■^■^ 
 
 
 
 
 
ciassJ:^Ji52_2:i 
 
 HHKSEXTKD BY 
 
 18T1 
 
DIARY, REMINISCENCES, 
 
 AND 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, 
 
 BARRISTER-AT-LAW, F. S. A. 
 
 SELECTED AKD KDITEI) BY 
 
 THOMAS SADLER, Ph.D. 
 
 TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HURD AND HOUGHTON. 
 
 QTambribg^ : ®l)e Wimtsihe l^xees. 
 
 1877. 
 
r'^ 
 
 l?a. 
 
 S3 
 
 A Man he seems of cheerful yesterdays 
 And confident to-morrows ; with a face 
 Not worldly-minded, for it bears too much 
 Of Nature's impress, — gayety and health, 
 Freedom and hope ; but keen withal, and shrewd* 
 His gestures note, — and hark ! his tones of voice 
 Are all vivacious as his mien and looks." 
 
 T/te Excursion^ Book VII. 
 
 W. I*. Shoemaker 
 f » '06 
 
DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND 
 CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, 
 
 BAERISTEE-AT-LAW, F. S. A. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE materials placed in the hands of the Editor, 
 from which to make selections for the following 
 work, were: 1. Brief journals reaching as far as 1810, 
 inclusive ; 2. A regular and full home Diary, begun in 
 1811, and continued till within five days of Mr. Eobin- 
 son's death, forming thirty-five closely written volumes ; 
 3. About thirty volumes of Journals of tours ; 4. Eem- 
 iniscences, reaching down to the year 1843, inclusive; 
 5. Miscellaneous papers ; . 6. A large number of letters. 
 It. was Mr. Eobinson's intention to very materially re- 
 duce the number of letters, and to leave only those which 
 were valuable. This sifting he regarded as a chief work 
 of his later years, and he was fond of quoting respecting 
 it the saying of Dr. Aikin when struck by paralysis: 
 " I must make the most of the salvage of life." But al- 
 though he destroyed a vast number of letters, the work 
 of selection and arrangement was very far from com- 
 pleted. 
 
 The part of his papers of which he himself contem- 
 plated the posthumous publication, was a selection from 
 his Reminiscences, with some letters. Many friends re- 
 peatedly urged him to make the necessary preparation for 
 such a publication. Among these were Eogers and 
 Wordsworth. On the recommendation of the latter, Mr. 
 Eobinson laid special stress, for he said : " Wordsworth 
 must be aware that there are many interesting particulars 
 respecting himself, which I should wish to preserve, if I 
 preserved anything." And the recommendation was, 
 therefore, interprieted as a sanction to including these 
 particulars with those relating to Goethe,, Wielaud, and 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 others. To his executors, Mr. Eobinson used to say : " If 
 you were to print all that you find" (referring to the 
 Reminiscences), " I should think you would show great 
 want of judgment ; and I should think the same if you 
 came to the conclusion that there is nothing worth print- 
 ing/' About six weeks before his death, he met Mr. Mac- 
 millan, the publisher of these volumes, who, as they were 
 going down to lunch, gave him his arm, and on the stairs 
 said : " Mr. Eobinson, I wonder that you have never been 
 induced to undertake some great literary work." Mr. 
 Eobinson stopped, and, placing his hand on Mr. Macmil- 
 lan's shoulder, answered : " It is because I am a wise man. 
 I early found that I had not the literary ability to give 
 me such a place among English authors as I should have 
 desired; but I thought that I had an opportunity of 
 gaining a knowledge of many of the most distinguished 
 men of the age, and that I might do some good by keep- 
 ing a record of my interviews with them." And writing 
 to his brother in 1842, he said : ''When you complain of 
 my not being so copious as I ought on such occasions, 
 you only remind me of what I am already sufficiently 
 aware, and that I want in an eminent degree the Boswell 
 faculty. With his excellent memory and tact, had I ear- 
 ly in life set about following his example, I might, beyond 
 all doubt, have supplied a few volumes superior in value 
 to his ' Johnson,' though they would not have been so 
 popular. Certainly the names recorded in his great work 
 are not so important .as Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Wie- 
 land, the Duchesses Amelia and Louisa of Weimar, and 
 Tieck, — as Madame de Stael, La Fayette, Abbe Gregoire, 
 Benjamin Constant, — as Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, 
 Lamb, Eogers, Hazlitt, Mrs. Barbauld, Clarkson, &c., &c., 
 &c., for I could add a great number of minor stars. And 
 yet what has come of all this ? Nothing. What will 
 come of it ? Perhaps nothing." 
 
 From the year 1811 the Diary is entitled to the most 
 prominent place. The Eeminiscences were not begun 
 till Mr. Eobinson had nearly reached threescore years 
 and ten ; and even if they had been written in the fresh- 
 ness of his memory, and in the fulness of his mental 
 
PREFACE. VU 
 
 vigor, they would still hardly have had equal value with 
 the daily record, which breathes the air of the scenes 
 and incidents to which it relates. 
 
 In the execution of his tasl^, the Editor has kept two 
 objects especially in view : first, to preserve interesting 
 particulars respecting distinguished men, both in England 
 and on the Continent; and, secondly, to keep unbroken 
 the thread of Mr. Eobinson's own life. One reason why 
 the materials were put into his hands rather than those of 
 one possessing more literary experience was, that he had 
 been himself a student at German Universities, and was 
 interested in German literature ; but the chief reason was 
 that, from various circumstances, he was likely to give 
 due prominence to Mr. Eobinson's own modes of thinking 
 and mental characteristics, liis independent unconforming 
 ways; wdtliout which those who knew him best would 
 feel that they had not a faithful portrait of their friend. 
 If this were not secured, the executors would consider 
 that they were not carrying out his own aim, in leaving 
 the selection of editor to them, without guidance or re- 
 straint. The Editor has, therefore, felt it to be his duty 
 to take all the care he could that the unpopular, or com- 
 monly uninteresting, subjects of Mr. Eobinson's thought 
 and interest should not be suppressed, in order to make 
 the book more in accordance with the public taste. 
 
 The Editor cannot venture to hope that, in the first edi- 
 tion of the work, there will not be many mistakes. Mr. 
 Eobinson often excited surprise by his wonderful mem- 
 ory in the narration of personal incidents ; but in re- 
 gard to dates and names, it was not altogether without 
 grounds that he called himself an incorrigible blunderer. 
 
 Of the mass of MS. which remains after selection, it will 
 be enough to say, that it, for the most part, refers simply 
 to the ordinary matters of private life, but that there are 
 some parts which, though they could not, with propriety, 
 be published now, may in time have a public interest and 
 value.* It may, perhaps, not be out of place tc give very 
 
 * ^Ir. Robinson's papers will be carefully preserved with a vie\y to any histor- 
 ical value they may acquire by the lapse of time. It may be stated, as a 
 rough guess, that the selections, not taking into account the letters, do not 
 amount to more than a twenty-fifth or thirtieth part of the whole. 
 
yui PREFACE. 
 
 briefly some of the most marked impressions of Mr. 
 Eobinson, which have been left on the Editor's mind, 
 after reading the whole. 
 
 In Holcroft's "Hugh Trevor" there is a passage in 
 which Mr. Eobinson was greatly interested, because he 
 felt it to be singularly applicable to himself : " I was pos- 
 sessed of that hilarity which, when not regulated by a 
 strong desire to obtain some particular purpose, shows 
 itself in a thousand extravagant forms, and is then called 
 animal spirits ; but when once turned to an attainment 
 of some great end, assumes the more worthy appellation 
 of activity of mind." Of this passage Mr. Eobinson says : 
 " I have through life had animal spirits in a high degree. 
 I might, under certain circumstances, have had more." 
 When he was in his seventieth year, Mrs. Clarkson said 
 of him, that he was "as much a boy as ever." Words- 
 worth called him " a healthy creature, who talked of com- 
 ing again in seven years as others would of seven days." 
 And the first line of the Dedication to H. C. E. of the 
 " Memorials of the Italian Tour " is : — 
 
 " Companion ! By whose buoyant spirit cheered." 
 
 This was, doubtless, in some measure owing to a health- 
 ful and vigorous constitution. Very rarely does so long 
 a life pass with so little interruption from illness. Even 
 so late as 1831, when he was in Italy, he made an excur- 
 sion with three gentlemen, one of whom, before their 
 return, volunteered this confession : '' When I heard that 
 you were to be of the party, I, at first, refused to go ; ' For,' 
 I said, ' Mr. Eobinson is an old man, and the rest of us 
 shall have to accommodate ourselves to his infirmities ' ; 
 but you have already knocked up two of us, and all but 
 me also," 
 
 Mr. Eobinson was a voracious devourer of books. He 
 read before he got up, and after he went to bed. On his 
 journeys, whether on foot or on a stage-coach, he was in 
 the habit of spending much of his time in reading. The 
 most attractive scenery had to share his attention with a 
 book. He said : " I could have no pleasure at the seaside 
 without society. That is the one great want of my life, 
 or rather the second, — the first being books." In a 
 
Christmas visit to Rydal, for a month or five weeks, he 
 would read from ten to twenty volumes of such works as 
 those of Arnold, Whately, and Isaac Taylor. Nor was he 
 one of those who think they liave read a work when they 
 have only skimmed through it, and made themselves ac- 
 quainted with its general contents. Sometimes he gives, 
 in the Diary, an account of what he read, and there is a 
 large bundle of separate papers, containing abstracts of 
 books, plots of stories, and critical remarks. 
 
 In his case, however, there was no danger of becoming 
 so absorbed in literature as to lose his interest in men. 
 He was eminently social. But he liked to have to do 
 with persons who had some indimduality. It was an af- 
 fliction to him to be obliged to spend several hours with 
 one of those colorless beings who have no opinions, 
 tastes, or principles of their own. Writing from Ger- 
 many to his brother, he said, " I love characters extreme- 
 ly." The words, " He is a character," are frequently the 
 prelude to an interesting personal description. Of one 
 whom he knew, he says : " AH his conversation is ostenta- 
 tious egotism ; and yet it is preferable to the dry talk 
 about the weather, which some men torment me with. 
 The revelations of character are always interesting." 
 This interest in character seems to have given him an in- 
 tuitive power of finding out noticeable men. Wherever 
 he was, — in London, Germany, or Eome, — a secret affin- 
 ity was almost sure to bring him into contact with those 
 who were most worth knowing, and to lead to a lasting 
 acquaintance with them. AVhen compelled, by Napo- 
 leon's soldiers, to fly from Hamburg, and to take refuge in 
 Stockholm, he formed a friendship with the veteran 
 Arndt, and there was no diminution in the warmth of 
 their greeting after an interval of twenty -seven years. 
 
 Mr. Eobinson's name is widely known as that of a cap- 
 ital talker. There is a saying that a man's strength is 
 also his weakness, and in this case there are not wanting 
 jokes about his taking all the conversation to himself. It 
 is reported that one day at a breakfast-party at Sam 
 Eogers's, the host said to those assembled : " 0, if there 
 is any one here who wishes to say anything, he had bet- 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 ter say it at once, for Crabb Robinson is conaing." But 
 there is no subject on which he more frequently re- 
 proaches himself, than with this habit of taking too large 
 a share of the talk. When his strength was beginning to 
 fail, his friend Edwin Field urged him in a letter to re- 
 frain from talking " more than two hours consecutively." 
 He notes this in the Diary^ and adds : " Is this satire ? It 
 does not offend me." Yet he was too candid not to ac- 
 knowledge that conversation was the one thing in which, 
 in his own estimation, he excelled. It was, he said, his 
 power of expression which enabled him to make his way 
 as a barrister, notwithstanding his deficiencies in legal at- 
 tainment.* He not only had a copious vocabulary, but 
 could also convey much meaning by his manner, and by 
 a playful exaggeration in his words. 
 
 Of this last use of speech he says in a letter to his 
 brother : '' What I wrote about the parson's alleging 
 that he had never seen me at church, was not altogether 
 a joke, but was a real feeling, exaggerated into a joke, 
 which is very much my habit in company, and, I may 
 say, is one of the secrets of conversational tact. There 
 is not a better way of insinuating a wholesome but un- 
 palatable truth, than clothing it in language wdlfuUy be- 
 yond truth, so that it may be taken as a satire on those 
 who gravely maintain the same doctrine, by all w^ho per- 
 haps would not tolerate a sober and dry statement of it. 
 I have the vanity to think I know how to do this, but I 
 may sometimes fail, of course. The intelligent always 
 understand me, and the dull are puzzled." It is not too 
 much to say, that to the great majority of those who 
 were in the habit of meeting him his conversation was a 
 real delight. The Editor well remembers the secret pleas- 
 ure witii which he invariably saw him come into the 
 room, and the feeling which the announcement of his 
 death caused, as of a loss which, in kind, could never be 
 made up. There were veins in his conversation, from which 
 more good was to be gained in a pleasant hour after din- 
 ner, than from many a lengthened serious discourse. 
 
 * Whatever amount of truth there may be in Mr. Robinson's own idea of 
 his legal attainments, he, at all events, as'the Diary shows, was a great reader 
 of legal books, while he was in practice at the bar. 
 
PREFACE. ^ XI 
 
 Throughout life Mr. Eobinson was a man of unusual 
 activity. He himself would hardly have admitted this. 
 A title that suggested itself to him for his Eeminiscences 
 was, " Eetrospect of an Idle Life." When on one occa- 
 sion he was told by his medical attendant that he had 
 been using his brain too much, he exclaimed, " That is 
 absurd." He would say of himself, that while he talked 
 too much he did nothing. But, in truth, men ''who have 
 nothing to do " are very serviceable members of society, 
 if they only know how to employ their time. . 
 
 Those who knew him best, protested against the self- 
 reproaches he heaped upon himself for not being of more 
 use. Miss Denman says in a letter : " I must scold 
 you in good earnest. What can you mean by complain- 
 ing of being useless in the world, when you must be con- 
 scious that every human being you ever called friend has 
 found you one in any and every emergency where your 
 kindness and services could be made available ? Do we 
 not all feel and acknowledge this, and are you the only 
 forgetful person ? I '11 tell you what you should do. 
 When the uncomfortable discourasrin^:^ idea is takino^ hold 
 of your mind, call over the names of the persons you 
 have been most intimate with, and ask yourself before 
 you dismiss each name, Have I never done a service, 
 given useful advice or pecuniary aid, to this person ? 
 Try this, and I think your mind will be relieved from the 
 fancied evil." He was, as he himself expressed it, '' a 
 busy idle man." 
 
 In the early part of his life, simple habits and a very 
 limited expenditure were necessary to " make both ends 
 meet." But when his means became considerable he had 
 no desire to alter, materially, his mode of living. He did 
 not covet the kind of rank and station which are attained 
 by a costly establishment and a luxurious table. He had 
 not a single expensive habit ; but he said, '' My parsi- 
 mony does not extend to others." He would rather help 
 some widow to bring up her children, or some promising 
 young man to obtain superior educational advantages. 
 But he had his own method of giving. It was rather in 
 the spirit of generosity, than of charity, in the narrower 
 
Xii PREFACE. 
 
 sense of that word. He had his pensioners among the 
 poor, but he had a wholesome fear of encouraging a spirit 
 of dependence, and was conscientiously on his guard 
 against that kind of liberality which is easily taken in. 
 There were friends to whom he used to say, " If you know 
 of any case in which money will do good, come to me ! '' * 
 And he did not like to be much thanked ; he felt humili- 
 ated by it, when he had simply followed the natural dic- 
 tates of kindness and good-will. He was especially fond 
 of promoting the enjoyment of the young. " In the hap- 
 piness of the young," he said, in a letter to his brother, 
 " we, the aged, if we are not grossly selfish, shall be able 
 to take pleasure." If it were rumored that the students 
 of University Hall wanted the relief of a dance, towards 
 the close of a session of hard study, they would presently 
 hear that an anonymous friend had presented £ 50 for the 
 purpose. He took great pains with his gifts. He would 
 often get some friend to choose a wedding present, and the 
 value was " not to be less than a sum named," — always a 
 handsome amount. With a book-gift, he would some- 
 times send a long and valuable letter about the best way 
 to read it. In Rome, on the birthday of Pepina, Miss 
 Mackenzie's adopted child, he put into her hands a pres- 
 ent of money, with a kind letter of advice, Which he 
 hoped would be valuable to her in after life. There was 
 often peculiar delicacy in his acts of generosity. In one 
 of his tours, he found his old friend Charlotte Serviere 
 somewhat narrowed in her circumstances, and, calling at 
 Frankfort on his way back, he begged her to do him the 
 favor of relieving him of a part of the too large balance 
 which his tour had left in his hands, and to excuse a 
 pecuniary gift from an old friend. He would not let her 
 express the gratitude she felt ; but on leaving the house, 
 on a subsequent visit, he could not prevent the old ser- 
 vant from seizing him by the hand and saying, " I thank 
 you for the great joy you have given to the Fraulein." Some 
 who are now thriving in fortune, and holding a prominent 
 place in the literary world, will remember the little " sealed 
 
 * Mr. Robinson often said to E. W. Field : " You cannot think what a trou- 
 ble it is to me to spend a shilling on myself; but if you know of any good 
 way of using my money, come to me." 
 
PREFACE. XIU 
 
 notes," containing a valuable enclosure, for which he 
 would fain have it believed that a volume or two of the 
 author's works, or a ticket to a course of lectures, was am- 
 ple return. Nor was his generosity by any means con- 
 fined to pecuniary gifts and personal exertions. 
 
 Not a few of his best anecdotes have got, prematurely, 
 into print. This was inevitable with a good talker. And 
 he would not have avoided it, if he could, by putting a 
 restraint oh the sociability of his nature, though he did 
 like to have his anecdotes told as they ought to be. Not 
 only, however, did some of his best anecdotes get abroad, if 
 sometimes in an imperfect form, but he seems to have had 
 no disposition to keep back other matter, though strictly 
 under his own control. When he heard that Moore w^as 
 preparing a " Life of Byron," he wrote a letter, which, it 
 appears, never reached its destination, giving a full ac- 
 count of those highly interesting interviews, in which 
 Goethe's opinions of Byron were expressed. Mrs. Aus- 
 tin, in her " Characteristics of Goethe," and Mr. Gilchrist, 
 in his " Memoirs of Blake," not to mention others, re- 
 ceived valuable contributions from Mr. Eobinson ; and 
 this, notwithstanding that recollections of his own would, 
 in all probability, be some day published. 
 
 His love for the young showed itself, not only in his 
 thoughtfulness for their pleasure, but also in the allow- 
 ance he made for their faults.* Jean Paul says, that in 
 the young man the wing feathers (the impulsive energies) 
 are chiefly developed, and that the tail feathers (the bal- 
 ancing power, or judgment) are the growth of later years. 
 Accordingly, Mr. Eobinson, though himself of the widest 
 toleration, thought " intolerance not inexcusable in a 
 young man. Tolerance comes with age." His own large 
 experience of diversity of opinion, taste, and feeling, 
 combined with excellence of character, had made him 
 thoroughly catholic in spirit ; and with his tendency to 
 self-depreciation, he was (to borrow Dr. King's expres- 
 sion) " too modest to be tolerant." But there were two 
 
 * Not indeed for the faults of the young only. " Dr. E. spoke with spirit 
 about T. I defended poor T. as well as 1 could, with more love than logic. 
 He is indefensible. Amyot cheered me on. who loves all his old friends; h« 
 gives up none." — H. C. R., October 22, 1-32. 
 
XIV PREFACE. 
 
 classes of persons who formed exceptions. One consisted 
 of those who spoke disrespectfully of his demigods ; the 
 other class is indicated by his own words : ''I cannot tol- 
 erate the toleration of slavery." Of these two forms of 
 intolerance, the first, which cost him some friendships, he 
 acknowledged as a fault, and, on various occasions, ex- 
 pressed his deep regret at it, as arising from a want of 
 control over his temper ; the second he felt to be a vir- 
 tue. To one who was satirical on the subject of slavery, 
 he said : " Lord John is fair game, and the Times, and the 
 Whigs too, if by Whigs you mean the great Whig fam- 
 ilies ; but humanity is too sacred a subject for irony." 
 
 Mr. Eobinson used to lament that he had not the fac- 
 ulty of giving a graphic account of the illustrious men 
 with whom he came into contact. He had, at all events, 
 one qualification for interesting others, — he was inter- 
 ested himself. The masters of style have no arts which 
 can take the place of a writer's own enthusiasm in his 
 subject. Mr. Eobinson's descriptions are often all the 
 more effective from their very naturalness and simplicity. 
 The Italian tour, with Wordsworth, may be cited as an 
 example. What was written on the journeys is, on the 
 whole, hardly equal to the ordinary home Diary. Nor is 
 that tour one of the best, so far as the record is concerned. 
 And yet the few notes jotted down day by day are ad- 
 mirably illustrative of Wordsworth's mind and character, 
 and are strikingly confirmed by the " Memorials " written 
 by him afterwards. The poet's love for natural beauties 
 rather than works of art, for the country rather than the 
 towns, for fresh life in bird, or flower, or little child, 
 rather than for the relics of the things of old, — his an- 
 noyance at the long streets of Bologna, — his eagerness 
 to depart from the fashionable watering-place of Ischl, — 
 the wide difference in his interest in those places which 
 have influenced the character and works of a great man, 
 and those Avhich have only been outwardly associated 
 with him, — his being allured by the sound of a stream, 
 and led on and on till midday, notwithstanding that he 
 was expected back to breakfast, and the relief his anxious 
 friend felt as soon as he heard the same sound, knowing 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 that it would be likely to be irresistible to the truant, 
 and tracking him out by this clew, — these and kindred 
 touches of cliaracter have in them the material and col- 
 oring of genuine biography. 
 
 The time spent by Mr. Eobinson in Germany, as a 
 young man, was a turning-point in his life. And he did 
 not derive the advantage of between four and five years' 
 study there, in the best society, without leaving a very 
 favorable impression on many, whose esteem and friend- 
 ship were, in the highest degree, honorable to him, as well 
 as a rich possession. He must have been a tolerable 
 German scholar to have been able to personate Professor 
 Fichte to the lionizing landlord and the confidential 
 priest. What warm greetings he invariably received at 
 Jena and Weimar, Frankfort and Heidelberg ! So thor- 
 oughly had he entered into the thoughts and customs of 
 his German friends, that they felt themselves to be under- 
 stood by him, and fully trusted him to represent them on 
 his return to his native country. And certainly if he 
 were a " missionary of English poetry in Germany,'' he 
 was also a missionary of German literature in England. 
 This is amply acknowledged in the " Memoirs of Frederick 
 Perthes." * Besser, the partner of Perthes, writing from 
 England in 1814, says : "Such men as Eobinson are of 
 rare occurrence in England. A better medium than this 
 remarkable and most attractive man it would be impossi- 
 ble for Germany to find. I unconsciously place him, in 
 my mind, by the side of Villers, and then the different 
 influence which a thorough German education has had 
 on the Frenchman and on the Englishman is very strik- 
 ing." 
 
 Mr. Robinson's breakfast and dinner parties were char- 
 acteristically interesting. He did not seek to gather 
 about him either the lions or the wits of the day. There 
 were witty men and eminent men at his table, but not as 
 such were they invited. None were allowed to come there 
 who sliowed themselves to be either intolerant or subser- 
 vient. He liked to gather around him cultivated and 
 earnest representatives of various phases of political and 
 
 * Vol. I., ch. xix., p. 258. 
 
XVI PREFACE. 
 
 religious thought. "His house" (Mr. Taylor said in his 
 address at Highgate) "was a centre 'of attraction for 
 minds from the most opposite points in the wide horizon 
 of opinion. Softened by his genial spirit, and animated 
 by his cheerful flow of kindly and interesting talk, Tories 
 and Liberals, High-Churchmen and Dissenters, found 
 themselves side by side at his hospitable board, without 
 suspecting that they were enemies, and learned there, if 
 they had never learned it before, how much deeper and 
 stronger is the common human heart, which binds us all 
 in one, than those intellectual differences which are the 
 witness of our weakness and infallibility, and sometimes 
 the expression of our obstinacy and self-will." It was, 
 indeed, no small privilege to hear the passing topics of 
 the day, and the chief questions of literature, talked over 
 by able men of such widely differing points of view, and 
 in a spirit of mutual respect and kindness. And the 
 host, who was as free in the expression of his own opin- 
 ions as he was ready to listen to the opinions of others, 
 seldom failed to bring to bear on the question under con- 
 sideration some recollection from Weimar or Highgate, a 
 walk with Wordsworth at Eydal, or an evening with 
 Charles Lamb. 
 
 To those who were not intimate with Mr. Eobinson 
 what he says respecting religion may sometimes be puz- 
 zling. There are occasions when his words seem to imply 
 that with him belief was rather hoped for than an actual 
 possession. He thought there was more real piety in the 
 exclamation of the anxious father in the Gospels, " Lord, 
 I believe ; help thou mine unbelief," than in the confident 
 and self-satisfied assertion of the longest creed. His 
 sympathy in opinions was with those who have exercised 
 the fullest liberty of thought. He had traversed far and 
 wide the realms of theological speculation, and in every 
 part he had found sincere and devout men. But he was 
 always interested and touched by genuine religious feel- 
 ing, wherever he found it, — whether in the simple and 
 fervent faith of the Moravians at Ebersdorf, or in the 
 blessings which the old Catholic woman at Bischoflfsheim * 
 
 * Where Christian Brentano had been at school. 
 
PREFACE. XVU 
 
 poured upon Christiau Brentano, or in the vesper service 
 at the wayside inn in the Tyrol, or in the family worship 
 at Ambleside, where " sweet Jessie " Harden " read the 
 prayers." He thoroughly entered into the sentiment of 
 the author of the " Eeligio Medici," — "I cannot laugh at, 
 but rather pity, the fruitless journeys of pilgrims, or con- 
 demn the miserable condition of friars ; for though mis- 
 placed in circumstances, there is something in it of devo- 
 tion. I could never hear the Ave Mary bell without an 
 elevation, or think it a sufficient warrant, because they 
 erred in one circumstance, for me to err in all, — that is, 
 in silence and contempt. AVhilst, therefore, they directed 
 their devotions to her, I offered mine to God, and recti- 
 fied the errors of their prayers by rightly ordering mine 
 own." looking to the church of the future, he hoped 
 there would be found in it " the greatest quantity of relig- 
 ion founded on devotional sentiment, and the least quan- 
 tity of church government compatible with it, and con- 
 sistent with order." The concluding paragraph of his 
 obituary of his friend Anthony Eobinson, written in 
 1827, is strikingly applicable to himself: "Could Mr. 
 Eobinson be justly deemed a religious man ? If religion 
 be a system of confident conclusions on all the great 
 points of metaphysical speculation, as they respect the 
 universe and its author, — man and his position in the 
 one, and relation to the other, -tTTr it must be owned Mr. 
 Eobinson laid no claim to the character. But if the reli- 
 gious princiijle be that which lays the foundations of all 
 truth deeper than the external and visible world ; if reli- 
 gious feeling lie in humble submission to the unknown 
 Infinite Being, who produced all things, and in a deep 
 sense of the duty of striving to act and live in conform- 
 ity with the will of that Being ; if, further, Christianity 
 consist in acknowledging the Christian Scriptures as the 
 exposition of the Divine will, and the guide of human 
 conduct, — then, surely, he may boldly claim to be a 
 member of that true Christian Catholic Church, accordincj 
 to his own definition of it, — 'An association of men for 
 the cultivation of knowledge, the practice of piety, and 
 the promotion of virtue.' " * 
 
 ♦ Monlhly Repositor*', ^ 827. -d. 293« 
 
XVlll PREFACE. 
 
 Mr. Robinson was an earnest thinker on the profound- 
 est and most difficult religious subjects. This was espe- 
 cially the case in his old age. As we like to look up to 
 the stars, though we may not be able to tell their magni- 
 tude or their distance, and to behold the majesty of the 
 sea, thougli we may not be able to fathom its depths, 
 so he seemed to be attracted to the great problems of re- 
 ligion, as if he liked to feel their infinitude, rather than 
 hoped to find their solution. He stated as his experi- 
 ence, that " Religion in age supplies the animal spirits of 
 youth." His old age had its pathetic side, as, indeed, 
 every old age must have. 
 
 Those who, in his later years, met him in society, and 
 saw how full of life he was, with what zest and anima- 
 tion he told his old stories, merely requiring, 'how and 
 then, help as to a name or a date, may easily have im- 
 agined his strength greater than it really was. 
 
 But though few, perhaps, have ever so closely watched 
 the approach of infirmity, and though he was in the 
 habit of saying, " Growing old is like growing poor, a sort 
 of going down in the world," his frequent expression was, 
 " This does not make me melancholy." And when, at 
 last, "everything seemed to tire," there was, with this 
 feeling of mortal weariness, another feeling, which was 
 that he was 
 
 " On the brink of being bom." 
 
 T. S. 
 
 Hampstead. 
 
 The Editor desires to acknowledge the valuable assist- 
 ance he has received ; and would especially mention 
 James Gairdner, Esq., of the Record Office ; George 
 Scharf, Esq., one of Mr. Robinson's intimate and highly 
 valued friends ; and J. Morley, Esq., author of " Burke : 
 a Historical Study," &c. Mr. Gairdner made the selec- 
 tions in some of the years. The proofs have had the ad- 
 vantage of additional notes, especially in connection with 
 art, by Mr. Scharf, and of excellent suggestions by Mr. 
 Morley. Dr. Wagner has rendered a like service, in re- 
 
PREFACE. XIX 
 
 gard to those parts which relate to Germany. The ad- 
 mirable paper by Mr. De Morgan, at the end of the second 
 volume, speaks for itself. In acknowledging the kind- 
 ness of Lady Byron's relatives, in regard to the letters 
 by her, the Editor cannot but add the expression of a 
 hope, that, before long, the public may have the oppor- 
 tunity of a fuller acquaintance with the correspondence 
 of one capable of writing such letters. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I 
 
 V w »- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 1789. 
 Family and Childhood 
 
 Pagb 
 . 1 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 1790-95. 
 Articled Clerk at Colchester • .10 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 1795. 
 Interval at Bury 1® 
 
 0-,.; CHAPTER IV. 1796-1800. 
 
 Unsettled Life in London. — Correspondence with Robert Hall . . 22 
 
 CHAPTERS v., VL, VIL, VIIL, IX. 1800-5. 
 In Germany 44 
 
 CHAPTER X. 1805-6. 
 In London. — Acquaintance with Mrs. Barbauld, and C. and M. Lamb 144 
 
 ^ CHAPTER XL 1807. 
 
 In Holstein, as " Tzmes Correspondent " . ... . . 148 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 1807-9. 
 
 In London, as Foreign Editor of the Times. — Acquaintance with 
 
 Wordsworth.-^ At Conmna, as " Times Correspondent" . .168 
 
 .CHAPTER XIIL 1810. 
 In London. — Acquaintance with Coleridge and Flaxman . . 191 
 
XXU CONTKNTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 1811. 
 
 In London. — Debating Societies. — Coleridge's Lectures. — Southey. 
 
 — Resolution to study for the Bar 204 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 1812. 
 
 In London. — Studies for the Bar. — Lectures by Coleridge and Haz- 
 
 litt ... 235 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 1813. 
 
 Acquaintance with Talfourd. — Madame de Stael in London. — 
 
 Circuit. — Takes Chambers 260 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 1814. 
 
 European Politics. — Practice at the Bar. — Tour in France. — La 
 Fayette. — French Courts of Justice. — Madame de Stael. — 
 Benjamin Constant. — Schlegel. — " The Excursion " . . 273 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 1815. 
 
 "The Excursion." —Buonaparte's Escape from Elba. — Death of 
 H. C. R.'s Father. — Tour in Belgium and Holland. — Visit to 
 Waterloo. — Progress at the Bar 300 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 1816. 
 
 Flaxman. — Lamb. — The Clarksons at Playford. — Wordsworth. 
 
 — Southey. — De Quincey. — Coleridge ' 327 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 1817. 
 
 On Circuit. — Treason Trials. — Coleridge and Tieck. — Journey to 
 
 Paris. — Hone's Trials • 354 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 1818. 
 
 Lectures by Hazlitt and Coleridge. — Visit to Germany. — The 
 
 Court at Weimar. — Knebel. — On Circuit .... 379 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 1819. 
 
 Clarkson. — J. P. Collier and Mr. Walter. — On Circuit. — Benecke. 
 
 — New Chambers 402 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 1820. 
 On Elton Hamond 417 
 
CONTENTS. XXIU 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 1820. 
 Flaxman. — Lamb. — Swiss Tour with the Wordsworths . . 428 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 1821. 
 Mrs. Barbauld. — Flaxman. — Tour to Scotland . . . . 456 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 1822. 
 
 Wordsworth's Memorial Poems. — Visit to Paris. — Charles and 
 
 Mary Lamb in Paris 468 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 1823, 
 
 Southey. — Wordsworth, Coleridge, Moore, Lamb, and Rogers. — 
 Abernethy. — Acquaintance with Irving. — Schlegel. — Flax- 
 man . . 481 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. II. 
 
 CHAPTER L 1824. 
 
 Pags 
 
 Sir John Franklin. — Lamb. — Coleridge and Irving. — Athenaeum 
 Club opened. — Lady Morgan. — Tour in Normandy. — Visit 
 to the Trappists 1 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 1825. 
 Julius Hare. — Sir James Stephen. — Blake's Conversations . .17 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 1826. 
 
 Blake. — Lamb. — Irving. — Coleridge. — Tour in Ireland. — Jour- 
 ney with O'Connell. — Visit to Derrynane. — Wordsworth. — 
 Visit to Dawson Turner. — Macaulay. — Death of Flaxman . 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 1827. 
 Death of Blake. — Lamb at Enfield 73 
 
Xxiv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 1828. 
 
 Goethe. — Opening of the London University .— Repeal of Test and 
 
 Corporation Acts. — Bishop Stanley. — H. C. R. quits the Bar 79 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 1829. 
 
 Antiquarian Society. — Linnsean Society. — Lamb's Hoax and Con- 
 fession. — With Lamb at Enfield. — Mrs. Clarkson. — Words- 
 worth. — Croker 87 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 1829. 
 Tour in Germany. — Visits to Benecke, Knebel, Goethe, Tieck, &c. 98 
 
 CHAPTER Vin. 1829-31. 
 In Italy. — Winter in Rome. — Tour in Sicily. — Stay in Florence 117 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 1831. 
 
 In England again. — The Reform Bill. — Visits to Lamb and the 
 
 Clarksons. — Jeremy Bentham 158 
 
 CHAPTER X. 1832. 
 
 ^ Reform Bill. — Goethe's Death. — Lady Blessington. — Fatal Acci- 
 dent to W. Pattisson and his Bride . . . . . ' . 168 
 
 CHAPTER XL 1833-35. 
 
 Hudson Gurney. — First Railway Journey. — At the Lakes. — 
 Scotch Tour with Wordsworth. — Visit to Heidelberg. — Theo- 
 logical Talks with Benecke. — Death of Lamb. — ^ First Christ- 
 mas at Rydal 179 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 1836. 
 Dr. Arnold. — Sydney Smith. — W. S. Landor and Wordsworth . 220 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 1837, 1838. 
 
 Italian Tour with Wordsworth. — Journey to the West of England 
 with Wordsworth. — Copyrijrht in America. — Clarkson and 
 Wilberforce Controversy —Journey to Paris with Southey . 237 
 
CONTENTS. XXV 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 1839, 1840. 
 
 At Rydal. — H. C. R. removes to 30 Russell Square. — Visit to 
 
 Playford. — The Non-con. Club. — Tour to Frankfort . .271 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 1841. 
 Death of H. C. R.'s Nephew, and of many Old Friends . . .289 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 1842. 
 
 Christmas at Rvdal (1841). — Death of Dr. Arnold. — Christmas at 
 
 Rydal (1842). — Talks with Faber 291 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 1843, 1844. 
 
 On Church Questions. — Correspondence with Quillinan. — Christ- 
 mas at Rydal. — Visit to Playford. — Archaeological Association 302 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 1844. 
 Dissenters' Chapels Act . . . 328 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 1845. 
 At Rydal. — Rogers. — Wordsworth. — Robinsoniana . . . 334 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 1846. 
 
 Donaldson. — Visit to Heidelberg. — Acquaintance with F. W. Rob- 
 ertson 343 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 1847. 
 
 Visit to Devizes. — University Hall. — Deaths of Mary Lamb, Mrs. 
 Quillinan, and J. Walter. — F. W. Robertson. — University 
 College and Flaxman's Works. — Sad Christmas at Rydal . 351 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 1848. 
 
 Political Crisis. — Bunsen. — Emerson. — On the Punishment of 
 
 Criminals. — Christmas at Rydal 366 
 
Xxvi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXni. 1849. 
 The Circle at Eydal. — University Hall opened . . . . 383 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 1850, 1851. 
 
 Wordsworth's Death. — Trip to Paris. — Visit to Mrs. Wordsworth. 
 — Flaxman Gallery at University College. — Death of Habak- 
 kuk Robinson. — Tour to Germany. — Arndt .... 394 
 
 ^ CHAPTER XXV. 18.52-1857. 
 
 Death of Robertson. — Lady Byron. — Dr. Kin^. — Mrs. Clarkson 
 and Mrs. Wordsworth. — Visit to France. — Death of H. C. R.'s 
 Grand-nephew. — On the Study of Wordsworth . . . 420 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 1858-1862. 
 
 At Bury. — Mrs. Wordsworth's Death. — Death of Thomas Robin- 
 son. — More Deaths. — At Lulworth Cove. — Anecdotes and 
 Bons Mots . . . . 464 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 1863-1866. 
 
 At Stratford-on-Avon. — Last Continental Journey. — Putting Pa- 
 pers in Order. — Resigning Trusts. — Death . . . ,481 
 
 Appendix . . . • 509 
 
 Index 521 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD. 
 
 IT is one of the evidences, or shall I say consequences, of a 
 happy frame of mind, that I am capable of deriving pleas- 
 \u-e from things, the absence or even loss of which does not 
 give me pain. I should have rejoiced had I been well born, 
 could I have reckoned historical characters among my ances- 
 tors ; but it has never occasioned me any serious imeasiness 
 that my family are of as insignificant a class as can be im- 
 agined. Among the Robinsons I cannot find a single individual 
 who appears to have acquired any distinction, and among the 
 Crabbs only a remote probability of an affinity to a single in- 
 dividual of the name, who has ever been heard of, — and that 
 is the Poet. 
 
 My father used to say that his great-grandfather was a 
 tanner at Bildeston in Suffolk, and that his name was Henry. 
 My great-grandfather was Thomas. He was a tanner at Sud- 
 bury, where he is said to have attained the dignity of Mayor. 
 
 Some circumstances concerning the marriage of my father 
 and mother are worth writing down. I have forgotten from 
 whom I heard them. My mother, Jemima Crabb, was the 
 eldest daughter of a large family, and when of an age to be 
 useful she left her father's crowded house to reside at Bury 
 -with a family very intimate with her own. Mr. Bullen, the 
 head of this family, being a Dissenter, it was quite a matter 
 of course that Miss Crabb should be known to the Robinsons. 
 My grandfather was reputed wealthy, and was certainly one 
 of the most respectable of the Dissenters. Jemima Crabb 
 could have very little fortune, and my grandfather did not 
 consent to a love-match between her and his second son Henry. 
 
 VOL. I, 1 A 
 
2 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 She therefore returned to Wattisfield. One day her brother 
 Zachariah seeing Henry Robinson in the market-place, said to 
 him, " Not yet married. Master Henry 1 I expected to hear 
 of your marriage before this time." Henry answered, " No, 
 Mr. Zachary, as I cannot have your sister Mimie I won't 
 marry at all." A few days after this, a letter came to him 
 from Miss Crabb, in which she. said she was sorry for what she 
 had heard from her brother, — that it would be sinful in him 
 not to marry, for it is God's ordinance, and h? should not re- 
 fuse to do so because he could not have the first woman he 
 had taken a liking to. It would be undutiful to his father 
 also, who did not approve of his marrying her. She hoped 
 to hear that he had thought better of this, and that he would 
 make a happy marriage in conformity with his father's wishes. 
 This letter Henry showed to his brother Thomas, who can-ied 
 it to his father. The old gentleman was so pleased with its 
 tone that he withdrew his objection. Henry immediately went 
 over to Wattisfield with the good news, and the marriage soon 
 followed. It took place in 1766. 
 
 There were born two children, w^ho died in infancy ; and 
 besides these, Thomas, born January 25, 1770; Habakkuk, 
 born June 4, 1771, and Henry Crabb, the writer of these 
 Reminiscences, born May 13, 1775. 
 
 When I was about twenty-one years of age, I met on a 
 stage-coach a very gentlemanly man, who, hearing my name, 
 asked me whether my father was not a tanner, and whether 
 my mother's name w^as not Crabb. Surprised at the question 
 from a stranger, I inquired why he asked. He thus explained 
 himself : "^ More than twenty years ago I attended the 
 Gentlemen's Club at the Angel, when the chairman gave as a 
 toast, ' The Handsome Couple ' ; I was from the country, and 
 it was then related to me that that morning there had been 
 married a couple said to be the handsomest pair ever known 
 to have lived at Bury. I recollect that the names were Rob- 
 inson and Crabb, and that he was a young tanner." 
 
 In general, it is not easy to fix a date to the earliest recol- 
 lections. My mother's pocket-books supply a few. The very 
 earliest that I am aware of is the being taken out one night 
 in the arms of the nurse to see an illumination. I recollect 
 being frightened at the report of a gun, or some fireworks, and 
 that advantage was taken of my crying to carry me home. 
 Now my mother writes under February 15, 1779, "The 
 town (Bury St. Edmunds) illuminated in honor of Admiral 
 
1775-89.] FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD. 3 
 
 Keppel." I was then three years and nine months old, being 
 born May 13, 1775. 
 
 I recollect going to a dame's school, to a Mrs. Bard who 
 lived in a very small honse in the South Gate Street. I find 
 a payment of five shillings to Mrs. Bard, — one quarter, for 
 H. C. R. This was in July, 1780. 
 
 • I have a very clear recollection of seeing my aunt William- 
 son enter the keeping-room one morning and lift up her hands 
 in a melancholy way, on which my mother exclaimed, " My 
 father 's dead ! " In her pocket-book she has written, February 
 25, 1781 : *' My dear father died. 26th, Sister here by break- 
 fast." This same aunt Williamson had a doleful tone of voice 
 which I used to make game of ; I recollect being reproved for 
 crying out on her coming one day from W^attisfield, " Behold, 
 the groaner cometh." 
 
 I find that these are not the very earliest recollections, for 
 it appears that my grandmother Crabb died June 22, 1779 ; 
 now I very well recollect hearing it discussed with my mother 
 whether the departed would be known in the other world, and 
 saying, *' I shall know my grandmamma in heaven by the green 
 ribbon round her cap." 
 
 Another very early, but also faint recollection is of going 
 with my mother to see the camp on Fornham Heath, of being 
 lost there, and taken into a tent by some officers and feasted, 
 and while there seeing my mother pass, and calling out to 
 her with great joy. This must have been in the summer of 
 1778. 
 
 Of early education and religious instruction I recollect next 
 to nothing. I was an unruly boy, and my mother had not 
 strength to keep me in order. My father never attempted it. 
 I have a faint impression of having learnt a catechism, in 
 which there was this : " Dear child, can you tell me what you 
 are ] " A. " I am a child of wrath like unto others." I have 
 never found this precisely in any catechism, — but I was 
 brought up with Calvinistic feelings. 
 
 It appears from my mother's pocket-book that I went to 
 school in the year 1781 to old Mr. Blomfield. He w^as the 
 grandfather of the present Bishop of London. My brothers 
 went with me for a short time. They went to a boarding- 
 school in 1782, and then, I incline to think, I was removed 
 to an inferior English and Writing School kept by a Mr. Lease. 
 
 One really interesting occurrence I recollect which I have 
 often thought of as significant. There used to be given to the 
 
4 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 boy who was at the head of his class a box and ring, and he 
 had a present if he could keep it a certain number of days. 
 On one occasion I lost it, to my great sorrow, and as I thought, 
 very unjustly ; therefore next day I went boldly to young 
 Blomfield, who was an usher under his father, and with a book 
 in my hand, and with a consciousness of injured innocence, said, 
 
 " Sir, you turned me down for. spelling the word so, but 
 
 I was right after all. There, see ! I was right." Mr. Blom- 
 field smiled, patted me on the head, and said : " Well, Henry, 
 as you read it in a printed book you are not to blame, but 
 that 's printed wrong." I was quite confounded, I believed as 
 firmly in the infallibility of print as any good Catholic can in 
 the infallibility of his church, I knew that naughty boys 
 would tell stories, but how a book could contain a falsehood 
 was quite incomprehensible. 
 
 I will here mention what is the most important of all my 
 reminiscences, viz. that in my childhood my mother was to 
 me everything, and I have no hesitation in ascribing to her 
 every good moral or religious feeling I had in my childhood or 
 youth. Had she possessed more knowledge and more activity 
 she might have made a much better character of me. But she 
 was guided by the instinct of motherly love and pious feelings. 
 It was, I dare say, with a purpose, that w^hen I had one day 
 brought home a pin from Mrs. Ling's (an old lady with w^hom 
 she used to drink tea) she made me carry it back with an apol- 
 ogy, my excuse being that I did not think it was of any value : 
 she thus gave me a respect for property. This same Mrs. Ling 
 had an engraving in her parlor. She told me it was Elisha 
 raising the Shunamite's son. And what story was that, I 
 asked her. " I thought. Master R, you had been better edu- 
 cated," she replied, very formally. I was much affronted, but 
 set about reading the Bible immediately. 
 
 My mother's mantua-maker was a Roman Catholic. I was 
 one day told to go to her, but was unwilling to do so ; I said I 
 was afraid of her, I was told she was a Pope and would do me 
 a harm. My mother scolded me as a silly boy and forced me 
 to go. I believe she gave Mrs. Girt a hint, for the latter bribed 
 me to religious tolerance by giving me shreds of silk and satin 
 to clothe pictures with, which was a favorite employment. 
 This reminds ine that I had very early a great horror of 
 Popery, my first notions of which were taken from a ballad 
 relating how 
 
 " As Mordecai the Jew one day 
 Was skating o'er the icy way," 
 
1775-89.] ' FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD. 5 
 
 he fell in, and would have been drowned, but a Popish priest 
 
 came by. The Jew called for help. " You, a Jew ! I won't 
 
 help a Jew." ^' If you will help me out I w411 be baptized." 
 
 ^' You must be baptized first." The Jew consented, and then 
 
 begged to be taken out. " No," said the priest, ^' if I let you 
 
 out you will relapse into Judaism and so be damned. I will 
 
 rather save your soul." 
 
 " And saying this he in a trice 
 Clapped Mordecai beneath the ice." 
 
 Could and would men closely examine they would probably 
 find that their most inveterate religious prejudices, which they 
 think their most valuable religious convictions, are of such 
 origin. But Mrs. Girt's bits of silk went far to counteract 
 the ballad. 
 
 When a child, like other children, my faith was implicit in 
 what I was told to be true by my mother, and I have no sense 
 of devotion now, which I did not catch from her. 
 
 The name of the minister whose religious services my father 
 and mother attended w^as Lincolne. He was a gentlemanly per- 
 son and inspired respect, especially by a very large white wig. 
 He was often at our house, and his two daughters were my 
 mother's very gi^eat friends. When he came I used to be kept 
 at a distance, for I was always running about as well as talk- 
 ing, and he was afraid for his gouty toes. When I set about 
 reading the Bible I used to ask my mother questions. Her 
 prudent answer frequently was, '^ Ask the minister, my dear." 
 I recollect hearing some anecdotes told of me and the minister, 
 and some I seem to recollect myself, one especially. I had taken 
 a great fancy to the Book of Revelation ; and I have heard, but 
 this I don't recollect, that I asked Mr. L. to preach from that 
 book, because it was my favorite. '' And why is it your favorite 
 book, Henry V " Because it is so pretty and easy to under- 
 stand." 
 
 I had a happy childhood. The only suffering I recollect was 
 the restraint imposed upon me on Sundays, especially being 
 forced to go twice to meeting ; an injurious practice I am satis- 
 fied. To be forced to sit still for two hours, not understanding a 
 word, was a grievance too hard to be borne. I was not allowed 
 to look into a picture-book, but was condemned to sit with my 
 hands before me, or stand, according to the service. The con- 
 sequence was that I was often sent to bed without my supper 
 for bad behavior at meeting. In the evening my father used 
 to read aloud Mr. Henry's Commentarv, and in winter it was my 
 
6 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 agreeable occupation to turn the apple-pie that was in a Dutch- 
 oven before the fire, which was a great relief from Mr. Henry. 
 Once I recollect being whipped by my mother for being naughty 
 at meeting. A sad preparation for a religious life. 
 
 Now and then, by way of treat or reward for good behavior, 
 I was allowed to go to the Independent meeting to hear Mr. 
 Waldegrave preach. Mr. W. as I afterwards knew, was an 
 ignorant, noisy, ranting preacher; he bawled loud, thumped 
 the cushion, and sometimes cried. He was, however, a kind 
 man, and of course he was a favorite of mine. It belongs per- 
 haps to a later time, but I well recollect he repeatedly used the 
 phrase, " But as the 'Postle Paul say " (say is Suffolk grammar). 
 And after all I could carry away a thought now and then from 
 him. 
 
 To return to my mother's instructions ; I recollect a prac- 
 tice of hers, which had the best effect on my mind. She never 
 would permit me (like all children, a glutton) to empty the 
 dish at table if there was anything particularly nice, such as 
 pudding or pie. '^ Henry, don't take any more ; do you not 
 suppose the maids like to have some ? " A respect and atten- 
 tion to servants and inferiors was a constant lesson ; and if I 
 have any kindness and humanity in my ordinary feelings I 
 ascribe it all to her, and very much to this particular lesson. 
 
 Of my schooling at Mr. Lease's I have little or nothing to 
 say. I was an ordinary boy and do not recollect acquiring any 
 distinction at school. The sons of Mr. Lease I knew and the 
 children of some other Dissenters who w^ent there ; but some 
 others of my acquaintance went to the grammar school. This 
 set them above the rest of us, and I believe I should have 
 wanted to go to the grammar school too, but I had heard 
 that Mr. Lawrence was a flogging master, and I was therefore 
 glad to escape going there. 
 
 It was either in 1782 or 1783, the Annual Register of the 
 year will say which, that there was a very hard winter through- 
 out the country. To raise a fund for the poor of the town, the 
 grammar-school boys were induced to act plays at the thea- 
 tre. I have a distinct recollection of some of the boy actors ; 
 the principal play was Venice Preserved. There is nothing 
 worth noticing in the acting of the tragedy, but it is a significant 
 circumstance, and one that belongs to the state of moral and 
 religious feeling in the country between sixty and seventy 
 years ago,* that the farce acted with Venice Preserved was 
 
 * This was written in 1845. 
 
1775-89.] FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD. 7 
 
 Foote's Minor, the performers being school-boys ! It would 
 seem impossible, but it becomes less surprising when one rec- 
 ollects that the hatred of the clergy was still active against 
 the Methodists, that Dr. Squint um (Whitfield) was vigorously 
 satirized, and that the religious classes were the object of de- 
 rision to all the genteel part of the community, especially to 
 the clergy. I only wonder that I was allowed to be present, 
 but probably the Dissenters, certainly my parents, knew noth- 
 ing about such plays. 
 
 How much I understood of the farce I cannot now tell. 
 Perhaps little clearly. But children are content with confused 
 and obscure perceptions of a pleasurable character. 
 
 When very young indeed, my mother delighted me by sing- 
 ing a ballad which must be in some of the popular collections. 
 It was about the rich young lady who lived " in the famous 
 town of Reading," and fell in love with a poor lawyer. She 
 challenges him and he is forced to fight or marry her in a mask. 
 He consults a friend who answers : — 
 
 " If she 's rich you are to blame, 
 If she 's poor you are the same." 
 
 Of course it ends happily. I used to delight in this story. 
 Children's moral feelings are not more dehcate than those of 
 the people or their poets. 
 
 I recollect too the coming out of John Gilpin, and rather 
 think I had a sixpence given me for learning it by heart. 
 
 My mother's sister married a Dissenting minister, Mr. Fen- 
 ner, who kept a boarding-school at Devizes. I was accordingly 
 sent to his school, where I remained three years. The time 
 passed pleasantly enough, but L have often regretted that my 
 educational advantages were not greater at this period of my 
 life. Among the places in the neighborhood where I spent 
 some happy days was a gentleman's seat called Blacklands. 
 At that time it was occupied by an old gentleman named 
 Maundrel, one of whose sons was at the same school with me. 
 The old gentleman was burly and bluff, very kind and gen- 
 erous, but passionate ; once or twice he did not scruple to box 
 the ears of his young visitors. Not far from the house was a 
 horse cut out of the chalk hill. I believe it exists still. 
 Maundrel set us boys — there were some seven or eight of 
 us — to weed it, and very good workmen we were. He used 
 also to make us carry logs of wood for the fires up stairs, telling 
 us that we must work for our living. But he fed us well. 
 
 During my school life I obtained among my school-fellows 
 
8 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap.. L 
 
 the reputation of being a good talker, and was put forward as 
 a speaker on public matters in school, such as a combination 
 against a head-boy. And I was also noted as an inventor of 
 tales, which I used to relate to the boys in bed ; but this fac- 
 ulty did not grow with me, and has utterly died away. I had 
 no distinction in any branch of school exercise but one, and 
 this was French. I did not like learning it at first, and wrote 
 to my mother to beg that I might be relieved from the task ; 
 but she wisely took no notice of my letter. Before I left school 
 I liked French above everything, and was quite able to read 
 with pleasure the French classics, as they are called. 
 
 I did not once go home during the three years of my school 
 life at Devizes, but in the summer of the second year my 
 mother came to see me. The sensation which I most distinct- 
 ly recollect is that of seeing her at the Turnpike gate of the 
 Green. I thought her altered, or rather for a moment did not 
 know her, and that pained me ; but she gradually became to 
 me what she had been. 
 
 Though Mr. F^enner was a minister I received no religious 
 instruction at his school. What I fancied to be religion was 
 of my own procuring. I had fallen in with De Foe's Family 
 Instructor, and I became at once in imagination a religious 
 teacher. I had an opportunity of trying my power, for during 
 one of my last holidays I was left with a few Irish boys when 
 Mr. and Mrs. Fenner went a journey. I was the older and 
 placed in authority over the other boys, and I was not a little 
 pleased with myself for my mode of governing them. On the 
 Sunday I read a sermon to them, and I made the boj^s and 
 servants attend prayers. But I scorned reading a prayer ; I 
 prayed extempore, and did not hold my gift in low estimation. 
 
 In the summer of 1789 I returned home with Mr. Fenner 
 and my aunt. My uncle Crabb had a few years before accept- 
 ed the office of pastor at the Wattisfield meeting, and as he 
 intended to open a school there, I went to him for the next 
 half-year. Our numbers were so few that we were subject to 
 little of the ordinary restraint of school. 
 
 It was while here that I had a letter from my brother 
 Thomas directed to '' Mr.Eobinson, Attorney at Law." I had 
 to ask Mr. Crabb to explain to me the nature of an attorney's 
 profession, which had been chosen for me without my knowl^ 
 edge. 
 
 So entirely have I lost all recollection of the few months 
 spent at Wattisfield that I cannot call to mind anything 
 
1775-89.] FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD. 9 
 
 I studied or read. I only recollect having a sentiment of re» 
 sjDect and regard towards Mr. Crabb. 
 
 I recollect too that it was Avhile I was with Mr. Crabb that 
 the French Revolution broke out, that every one rejoiced in 
 it as an event of great promise, and that Popery and absolute 
 government were both to be destroyed. Though I had no 
 proper p)litical knowledge, yet I had strong party feelings. 
 In my childhood I had always heard the Church spoken of as 
 an unjust institution, and thought Dissenters a persecuted 
 body. 
 
 I can testify to this fact, that very strong prejudice may be 
 raised without any degree or sort of knowledge in justification 
 of the sentiment. I knew too I was, or rather that my friends 
 were Presbyterians, and I had a vague notion that the Inde- 
 pendents were more orthodox than was reasonable, and that 
 there was a degree of rationality compatible with sound doc- 
 trine. Mr. Lincolne, too, our minister, was much more of a 
 gentleman and scholar than Mr. Waldegrave, the Independent 
 minister. 
 
 Among my letters are a number by my dear mother. Her 
 memory is very dear to me, but I would not have these letters 
 survive me. They would not agTeeably impress a stranger, 
 but they express the warm aifections of a fond mother, full of 
 anxiety for the welfare of her children. Her mother-love was 
 combined with earnest piety. She had no doctrinal zeal, and 
 seems, though educated in a rigidly orthodox family, to have 
 had very little knowledge of religious controversy. 
 
 It is worth mentioning that I have found my mother's Ex- 
 perience, that is the paper she delivered in before she was ad- 
 mitted a member of the church at Wattisfield. The paper is 
 in one respect ciu4ous ; it shows that at that time even among 
 the Independents, doctrinal faith was not the subject of a for- 
 mal profession, though of course inferred. In this paper there 
 is no allusion to the Trinity, or any other disputed doctrine. 
 Indeed, the word belief scarcely occurs. The one sentiment 
 which runs throughout is a consciousness of personal unworthi- 
 ness, with which are combined a desire to be united to the 
 Church, and a reliance upon the merits of Christ. Therefore 
 her orthodoxy was indisputable. But when in after life her 
 brother (the minister, Mr. Habakkuk Crabb) became heretical, 
 either Arian or Unitarian, and his son also professed liberal 
 opinions, she was not disturbed by these things of which she 
 had a very slight knowledge. 
 1* 
 
10 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 AN ARTICLED CLERK AT COLCHESTER. 
 
 WHILE I lived as an articled clerk with Mr, Francis of 
 Colchester, I learned the ordinary routine of an attor- 
 ney's office and was absorbed in newspaper and pamphlet read- 
 ing, in which religious controversy was included. 
 
 On religious subjects I seem very quietly to have given up 
 my orthodoxy, and to have felt strongly' for Dr. Priestley on 
 account of the Birmingham riots ; but even the orthodox Dis- 
 senters became sympathizing on that occasion. I attended a 
 meeting of Dissenters at Chelmsford to appoint deputies to go 
 to London to concert measures for the repeal of The Corpora- 
 tion and Test Act ; we dined together, and among the toasts 
 given was one in honor of Dr. Priestley and other Christian 
 sufferers. I recollect that I was irritated by the objection of 
 one who was present that he did not know Dr. Priestley to be 
 a Christian. I replied that if this gentleman had read Priest- 
 ley's Letter to the Swedenborgians he would have learned 
 more of real Christianity than he seemed to know. I had my- 
 self, however, not formed any distinct religious opinions, but 
 felt deeply the importance of religious liberty and the rights 
 of conscience. 
 
 Through Mr. Dobson, who afterwards became a distinguished 
 mathematician at Cambridge, I formed an acquaintance with 
 a number of French emigrants on their escape from France 
 during the horrors of the Revolution, and my compassion for 
 them modified my Jacobinical feelings. I was, however, a 
 Jacobin notwithstanding, and felt great interest in one Mrl 
 Patmore, who was indicted for selling some of Paine's works, 
 and ultimately escaped through a defect in the indictment. 
 But my Journal records my shock at the death of the King 
 of France. My French attachment expired with the Brisso- 
 tine party, though in my occasional pious moods I used to 
 pray for the French. 
 
 At the spring assizes of 1791, when I had nearly attained 
 my sixteenth year, I had the delight of hearing Erskine. It 
 was a high enjoyment, and I was able to profit by it. The 
 subject of the trial was the validity of a will, — Braham v. 
 
1790-95.] AN AKTICLED CLEKK AT COLCHESTER. 11 
 
 Rivett. Erskine came down specially retained for the plaintiff, 
 and Mingay for the defendant. The trial lasted two days. 
 The title of the heir being admitted, the proof of the will was 
 gone into at once. I have a recollection of many of the cir- 
 cumstances after more than fifty -four years ; but of nothing do 
 I retain so perfect a recollection as of the figure and voice of 
 Erskine. There was a charm in his voice, a fascination in his 
 eye, and so completely had he won my affection that I am sure 
 had the verdict been given against him I should have burst 
 out crying. Of the facts and of the evidence I do not pretend 
 to recollect anything beyond my impressions and sensations. 
 My pocket-book records that Erskine was engaged two and a 
 half hours in opening the case, and Mingay two hours and 
 twenty minutes in his speech in defence. E.'s reply occupied 
 three hours. The testatrix was an old lady in a state of im- 
 becility. The evil spirit of the case was an attorney. Mingay 
 was loud and violent, and gave Erskine an opportunity of 
 turning into ridicule his imagery and illustrations. For in- 
 stance, M. having compared R. to the Devil going into the 
 garden of Eden, E. drew a closer parallel than M. intended. 
 Satan's first sight of Eve was related in Milton's words, 
 
 *' Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
 In every gesture dignity and love " ; 
 
 and then a picture of idiotcy from Swift was contrasted. But 
 the sentence that weighed on my spirits was a pathetic excla- 
 mation, " If, gentlemen, you should by yoiu* verdict annihi- 
 late an instrument so solemnly framed, / should retire a troubled 
 man from this court.'''' And as he uttered the word courts he 
 beat his breast and I had a difficulty in not crying out. When 
 in bed thq following night I awoke several times in a state of 
 excitement approaching fever, the words "' troubled man from 
 this court " rang in my ears. 
 
 A new trial was granted, and ultimately the will was set 
 aside. I have said I profited by Erskine. I remarked his 
 great artifice, if I may call it so ; and in a small way I after- 
 wards practised it. It lay in his frequent repetitions. He had 
 one or twp leading arguments and main facts on which he was 
 constantly dwelling. But then he had marvellous skill in 
 varying his phraseology, so that no one was sensible of tautol- 
 ology in the expressions. Like the doubling of a hare, he was 
 perpetually coming to his old place. Other great advocates I 
 have remarked were ambitious of a great variety of arguments. 
 
 About the same time that I thus first heard the most perfect 
 
12 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 of forensic orators, I was also present at an exhibition equally 
 admirable, and which had a powerful effect on my mind. It 
 was, I believe, in October, 1790, and not long before his death, 
 that I heard John Wesley in the great round meeting-house 
 at Colchester. He stood in a wide pulpit, and on each side of 
 him stood a minister, and the two held him up, having their 
 hands under his armpits. His feeble voice was barely audible. 
 But his reverend countenance, especially his long white locks, 
 formed a picture never to be forgotten. There was a vast 
 crowd of lovers and admirers. It was for the most part pan- 
 tomime, but the pantomime went to the heart. Of the kind 
 I never saw anything comparable to it in after life,* 
 
 The following letter enters a little more into particulars 
 respecting this interesting occasion : — 
 
 October 18, 1790. 
 Dear Brother : — 
 
 .... I felt a gTeat Satisfaction last Week, on Monday, in 
 hearing (excuse me now) that veteran in the Service of God, 
 the Rev. John Wesley. I was informed in the Afternoon that 
 he was in Towoi and would preach that Evening. Unfortu- 
 nately a sick Man had sent to have his Will made directly, 
 and it was given to me to write. But Mr. Francis, seeing how 
 mortified I appeared, gave it to some one else, and I went to 
 the Chapel. At another time, and not knowing the Man, I 
 should almost have ridiculed his figure. Far from it now. I 
 lookt upon him with a respect bordering upon Enthusiasm. 
 After the people had sung one Verse of a hymn he arose, and 
 said : " It gives me a great pleasure to find that you have not 
 lost your Singing. Neither Men nor Women — you have not 
 forgot a single Note. And I hope that by the assistance of 
 the same God which enables you to sing well, you may do all 
 other things well." A Universal Amen followed. At the End 
 of every Head or Division of his Discourse, he finished by a 
 kind of Prayer, a Momentary Wish as it were, not consisting of 
 more than three or four words, w^hich was always followed by 
 a Universal Buzz. His discourse was short — the Text I 
 could not hear. After the last Prayer, he rose up and ad- 
 dressed the People on Liberality of Sentiment, and spoke 
 much against refusing to join with any Congregation on ac- 
 
 * I have heard j\Ir. R. tell this more than once at his own table, with the in- 
 teresting addition that so greatly was the preacher revered that the people 
 stood in a double line to see him as he passed through the street on his wn y to 
 the chapel. — G. S. 
 
1790-95.] AN ARTICLED CLERK AT COLCHESTER. 13 
 
 count of difference of Opinion. He said, '' If they do but fear 
 God, work righteousness, and keep his commandments, we 
 have nothing to object to." He preached again on Tuesday 
 Evening, but I was out of Town with Mr. Francis all day, hold- 
 ing a Court Baron 
 
 I remain, &c., 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 1793. 
 
 On the 8th of January in this year died my dear mother, 
 an excellent woman I firmly believe, though without any supe- 
 riority of mind or attainments. Her worth lay in the warmth 
 of her domestic affections, and in her unaffected simple piety. 
 After fifty-two years I think of her with unabated esteem 
 and regard. 
 
 1794. 
 
 Among my Colchester acquaintance there is one man of 
 great ability whom I recollect with pleasure, though I was 
 but slightly acquainted with him. This is Ben Strutt. He 
 was a self-educated man, but having been clerk to a provincial 
 barrister, the Recorder of the town, where he had a great deal 
 of leisiu-e, he had become a hard reader and so acquired a great 
 deal of knowledge. He was a man of literature and art, and with- 
 out being an attorney knew a great deal of law. He was a sort 
 of agent to country gentlemen, particularly in elections. He 
 published an edition of the poems of Collins, whom he praised 
 and declared to be much superior to Gray. And I think (though 
 I have lost the book) that it contains additional stanzas by him- 
 self to the Ode on Superstition. Strutt also painted in oil, and 
 was skilful as a mechanic. I recollect once having a peep into 
 his bedroom, in which were curious figures and objects which I 
 beheld with some of the awe of ignorance. I looked up to him, 
 and his words made an impression on me. One or two I recol- 
 lect. When I went to Colchester I was very desirous of study- 
 ing, but I had no one to direct me, and therefore followed the 
 routine practice and advice given to all clerks. I bought a 
 huge folio volume to be filled with precedents, and copied 
 therein my articles of clerkship. One evening I was writing 
 very industriously in this volume when Ben Strutt came in. 
 " I 'm sorry to see you so lazy, young gentleman ! " " Lazy ! 
 I think 1 'm very industrious." " You do 1 Well now, what- 
 ever you think, let me tell you that your writing in that book 
 
14 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 is sheer laziness. You are too lazy to work as you ought with 
 your head, and so you set your fingers at work to give your 
 head a holiday. You know it is your duty to do something, 
 and try to become a lawyer, and just to ease your conscience 
 you do that. Had you been really industrious you would have 
 studied the principles of law and carried the precedents in your 
 head. And then you might make precedents, not follow them." 
 I shut up the book and never wrote another line ; it is still in 
 existence,^ a memorial of Strutt. Yet Mephistopheles might 
 have given the advice, for in my case it did harm, not good. S. 
 was cynical, a free-thinker, I think an unbeliever. Yet one day 
 he said something that implied he was a churchman. '' What ! " 
 I exclaimed, ^' you a churchman ! " He laughed : " Let me give 
 you a piece of advice, young man. Whatever you be through 
 life, always be of the Act of Parliament faith." 
 
 I recollect a wise word of Strutt's about law. I had been 
 repeating to him some commonplace saying that governments 
 ought to enounce great principles, and not to interfere with 
 men's actions or details. '' Just the contrary," growled 
 Strutt, " government has to do with nothing but details ; 
 of course it ought to do the right, not the wrong thing, and it 
 makes many blunders. There is no use in prating about ab- 
 stract rights. It is the business of government to counsel 
 people to do what is right." In the same spirit at another 
 time he said, I having uttered some commonplace saying as if 
 Locke's principles had produced the Revolution : " That 's all 
 nonsense, Locke's book was the effect, not the cause of the 
 Revolution. People do not rebel and overset governments be- 
 cause they have any ideas about liberty and right, but because 
 they are wretched, and cannot bear what they suffer. The new 
 government employed Locke to justify what they had done, 
 and to remove the scruples of weak, conscientious people." I 
 believe I owe a great deal to Strutt, for he set me thinking, and 
 had he been my regular instructor might have really educated 
 me. But I saw him only now and then. I once saw him by 
 accident in London a few years after I had left Mr. Francis. He 
 was going to the Opera ; I mentioned that I had no ear for 
 music, least of all for Italian music. ^^ Get it as soon as you 
 
 * Yes. It was found among his books by his executors after his death. It 
 gives evidence of great industry, accuracy, and neatness as well as order and 
 method. On page 76 of the book is the following memorandum at the end of 
 one of the precedents : '* Wrote this April 1st, 1791, the first year of my clerk- 
 ship being then finished." The book is continued to page 120, and finally stop* 
 in the middle of a precedent. 
 
1790-95.] AN ARTICLED CLERK AT COLCHESTER. 15 
 
 can. Yoii must one day love Italian music, either in this or 
 another life. It is your business to get as much as you can 
 here, — for, as you leave off here you must begin there ^ This, 
 if seriously said, implied a sort of hope of immortality very 
 mucb like that of Goethe. 
 
 Ben Strutt has been many years dead. He had a son who 
 survived him and became a painter. He made a portrait of 
 me, a disagreeable but a strong likeness. 
 
 On my becoming clerk at Colchester, only thirteen miles 
 from Witham, I had frequent opportunities of visiting my rela- 
 tives, the Isaacs, and through them I became acquainted with 
 others. Among these was Mr. Jacob Pattisson. He had a wife 
 whom he married late in life, — a cousin, deformed in person and 
 disfigured by the small-pox, but there was a benig-nity and moral 
 beauty in her face which rendered her a universal favorite. Mr. 
 Pattisson had only one child, who became my most intimate 
 friend for many years, and our regard has never ceased. He is 
 a few months younger than myself His education had been 
 much better than mine ; wheii young he was at Mr. Barbauld's 
 school. But his Dissenting connections had not been favorable 
 to his forming acquaintance superior to himself, though his own 
 familv were wealth v. So that when he and I met at Witham, 
 each thought the other a great acquisition. Being of the same 
 profession, having alike an earnest desire to improve, and being 
 alike ignorant how to set about it, we knew no better expedient 
 than to become correspondents, and I have preserved a formid- 
 able bundle of his letters, with copies of my own. I have glanced 
 over those of the first year, — we began to write in the spring, 
 — I had hoped to find in them some references to incidents that 
 occurred, but there is nothing of the kind. They are mere essays 
 on abstract subjects, mine at least very ill- written and evincing 
 no original thought whatever ; law questions are discussed and 
 criticisms on style fill many a dull page. There are also occa- 
 sional bursts of Jacobin politics. It was this friend who drew 
 my attention to the Cabinet, a Norwich periodical, and set me 
 on fleshing my maiden sword in ink. 
 
 It was in December, 1794, that my vanity was delighted by 
 the appearance in print of an essay I wrote on Spies and In- 
 formers. It was published in the Cabinet, which had been got 
 up by the young liberals of the then aspiring town of Norwich, 
 which at that time possessed two men of eminent abilities, — 
 William Taylor and Dr. Sayers. They, however, took very little, 
 or no part, in the Cabinet Charles Marsh, Pitchford, Norgate 
 
X 
 
 16 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 and Amelia Alderson were its heroes. My essay is very ill writ- 
 ten, only one thought rather pompously expanded, viz. that the 
 shame of being an informer ought to be transferred to the Law ; 
 for the detection of the breach of good laws ought to be honored. 
 My friend Will Pattisson was also a contributor to this periodi- 
 cal, under the signature of Rusticus. 
 
 Another friend of this period, with whom I have ever since 
 retained an intimate acquaintance, was Thomas Amyot. At 
 the time of my beginning a correspondence with Pattisson 
 he was already the correspondent of Amyot. He communi- 
 cated the letters of each to the other, and from first writing 
 on Pattisson's letters we began to write to each other directly, 
 and became correspondents without having seen each other. 
 Amyot's letters are far the best of the whole collection, as in 
 ability and taste he was far the superior of the three. He 
 was the son of a watchmaker in Norwich, and clerk in the 
 house of some eminent solicitors in that town. Our corre- 
 spondence had led to an invitation to visit Amyot, and Pattis- 
 son joining me in the visit, we met at the house of Amyot's 
 father on the 5th of December and remained there till the 
 9th. Within a few years of this time, Amyot married the 
 daughter of Mr. Colman, a Norwich surgeon. He was fortu- 
 nate enough to become the law agent of Mr. Windham, and when 
 the latter became War and Colonial Minister, he offered Amyot 
 the post of private secretary. This was readily accepted, and 
 when after the death of his patron this place was wanted for 
 some one else, he was appointed Registrar in London of the 
 West India Slaves, an office which still remains, though slav- 
 ery has been long abolished. Why this should be I could 
 never learn. He became an active F. S. A., and is now (1846) 
 treasurer of that learned and very dull body. 
 
 My visit to Norwich made me also acquainted with Mrs. 
 Clarkson, and that excellent couple Mr. and Mrs. John Taylor, 
 the parents of a numerous family, among whom is Mrs. 
 Austin. With several of the sons I am now in very friendly, 
 not to say intimate relations. I was also very civilly received 
 by Y>\ Alderson, the father of Amelia, who afterwards became 
 Mrs. Opie. I even now retain a lively recollection of this 
 young lady's visit to Bury, and of the interest excited by her 
 accomplishments and literary celebrity. Another person with 
 whom I became acquainted was William Taylor, of whom I 
 shall have occas^'o^i to write hereafter. 
 
 The perusal of my Journal for the year ^1794 has brought a 
 
1790-95.] AN ARTICLED CLERK AT COLCHESTER. 17 
 
 few facts to my recollection that deserve to be briefly men- 
 tioned. The chief of these are the famous State Trials of 
 Hardy, Home Tooke, and Thelwall. I felt an intense interest 
 in them. During the first trial I was in a state of agitation 
 that rendered me unfit for business. I used to beset the post- 
 ofiice early, and one morning at six I obtained the London 
 paper with " Not Guilty " printed in letters an inch in 
 height, recording the issue of Hardy's trial. I ran about the 
 town knocking at people's doors, and screaming out the joyful 
 words. 
 
 Thomas Hardy, who was a shoemaker, made a sort of cir- 
 cuit, and obtained, of course, many an order in the way of 
 his trade. In 1795 he visited Bury, when I also gave him an 
 order, and I continued to employ him for many years. His 
 acquaintance was not without its use to me, for his shop was 
 one in which obscure patriots (like myself) became known to 
 each other. Hardy was a good-hearted, simple, and honest 
 man. He had neither the talents nor the vices which might 
 be supposed to belong to an acquitted traitor. He lived to an 
 advanced age and died universally respected. 
 
 Thelwall, unlike Hardy, had the weakness of vanity, but he 
 was a perfectly honest man, and had a power of declamation 
 which qualified him to be a mob orator. He used to say that 
 if he were at the gallows with liberty to address the people 
 for half an hour, he should not fear the result ; he was sure 
 he could excite them to a rescue. I became acquainted with 
 him soon after his acquittal, and never ceased to respect him 
 for his sincerity, though I did not think highly of his under- 
 standing. His wife, who was his good angel, was a very 
 amiable and excellent woman. He was many years a widower, 
 but at last married a person considerably younger than him- 
 self. Thelwall's two sons, Hampden and Sydney, became 
 clergymen. 
 
18 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. S. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 INTERVAL AT BURY. 
 
 AFTER leaving Colchester at midsummer, 1795, I re- 
 mained at Bury till April in the next year. During 
 this time I had serious thoughts of being called to the bar ; 
 it was I believe Mr. Buck who put this into my head. He 
 had always a good opinion of me. My vivacity in conversa- 
 tion pleased him, and others like him entertained the very 
 false notion that the gift of words is the main requisite for a bar- 
 rister, — a Yulg2ir error, which the marvellous success of such 
 men as Erskine and Garrow had encouraged. I was invited 
 to meet Mr. Capel Lofft at dinner, that I might have the bene- 
 fit of his opinion. He was against my being called. My 
 acquaintance in general — among others not yet named, Wal- 
 ter Wright — concurred in this view, and the effect was that I 
 neglected being entered a member of an Inn of Court ; never- 
 theless I was averse to being an attorney, for which I was as 
 little qualified as to be a barrister. I determined, however, to 
 read law and occupy myself as well as I could, living mean- 
 while with the utmost economy. W^ith youth, health, high 
 spirits, and, alternating with a very low opinion of myself, a 
 vanity which was gratified by perceiving that I could readily 
 make my way in society, I was able to lead a busy idle life. 
 In me was verified the strenua inertia of Horace. And in so- 
 ciety I verified a line of the French Horace, as his country- 
 men term him, — 
 
 " Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui Tadmire.'* 
 
 I was now, as it were, entering society, and before I relate 
 the few incidents of the year, I will review the more remarka- 
 ble of the persons I then knew. 
 
 The TLOst noticeable person I had ever been in company 
 with w^^s Capel Lofft, — a gentleman of good family and 
 estate, — an author on an infinity of subjects ; his books were 
 on Law, History, Poetry, Antiquities, Divinity, and Politics. 
 He was then an acting magistrate, having abandoned the pro- 
 fession of the bar. He was one of the numerous answerers 
 of Burke ; and in spite of a feeble voice and other disadvan- 
 
1795.] INTERVAL AT BURY. 19 
 
 tages, an eloquent speaker. This faculty combined with his 
 rank and literary reputation made him the object of my admi- 
 ration. 
 
 Another of my acquaintances was Walter Wright. He was 
 rather older than myself, and the object of my envy for having 
 been at Cambridge. He had been trained for the bar, but ac- 
 cepted a colonial appointment, first at Corfu and afterwards 
 at Malta. Wright published a small volume of poems entitled 
 Horae lonicae, which Lord Byron praised w^armly in his first 
 satire. It was from his friend I used to hear of Lord Byron 
 when his fame first arose. W. was the friend of Dallas, a bar- 
 rister, and told me one day (this is anticipation) that he had 
 been reading a MS. poem, consisting of two cantos, entitled 
 " Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," which Lord B. offered to present 
 to Dallas if he thought it worth his acceptance. " I have told 
 him," said Wright, '' that I have no doubt this will succeed. 
 Lord B. had offered him before some translations from Horace, 
 which I told him would never sell, and he did not take 
 them." 
 
 Walter Wright was Recorder of Bury.* He always ex- 
 pressed a great interest in me ; and though at this time he 
 discouraged my going to the bar he approved of my doing so 
 some years later. 
 
 But of far greater influence over me was the family of Mr. 
 Buck. And among these the one to whom I was most devoted 
 was his eldest daughter, Catherine. She was three years older 
 than I. Being the playfellow of her brother John, who was 
 of my own age, I soon became intimate at the house ; as I was 
 perhaps the most promising of her brother's playfellows, Cath- 
 erine took me in hand to bring me forward. I have very 
 severe letters from her, reproaching me for slovenliness in 
 dress, as well as rudeness of behavior. But at the same time 
 she lent me books, made me first acquainted with the new 
 opinions that were then afloat, and was my oracle till her mar- 
 riage with the then celebrated Thomas Clarkson, the founder 
 of the society for the abolition of the slave-trade. After her 
 marriage she quitted Bury, but our friendship never ceased, 
 and her name will frequently occur in these reminiscences. 
 Catherine Buck was the most eloquent woman I have ever 
 known, with the exception of Madame de Stael. She had a 
 quick apprehension of every kind of beauty, and made her 
 
 * This seems to be an error. John Symonds, LL.D., was Recorder at this 
 period. 
 
20 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 own whatever she learned. She introduced me to Lamb, Cole- 
 ridge, Wordsworth, &c.'* 
 
 Catherine Buck had an intimate friend in Sarah Jane 
 Maling, a person rather older than herself and of much 
 originality of mind and character. She was also one of my 
 friends. 
 
 It was in the spring of this year and before I left Colchester 
 that I read a book which gave a turn to my mind, and in 
 effect directed the whole course of my life, — a book which, 
 after producing a powerful effect on the youth of that genera- 
 tion, has now sunk into unmerited oblivion. This was God- 
 win's Political Justice. I was in some measure prepared for it 
 by an acquaintance with Holcroft's novels, and it came recom- 
 mended to me by the praise of Catherine Buck. I entered 
 fully into its spirit, it left all others behind in my admiration, 
 and I was willing even to become a martyr for it ] for it soon 
 became a reproach to be a follower of Godwin, on account of 
 his supposed atheism. I never became an atheist, but 1 could 
 not feel aversion or contempt towards G. on account of any of 
 his views. In one respect the book had an excellent effect on 
 my mind, — - it made me feel more generously, I had never 
 before, nor, I am afraid, have I ever since felt so strongly the 
 duty of not living to one's self, but of having for one's soie 
 object the good of the community. His idea of justice I then 
 adopted and still retain ; nor was I alarmed by the declama- 
 tions so generally uttered against his opinions on the obliga- 
 tions of gTatitude, the fulfilment of promises, and the duties 
 arising out of the personal relations of life. I perceived then 
 the difference between principles as universal laws, and max- 
 ims of conduct as prudential rules. And I thought myself 
 qualified to be his defender, for which purpose I wrote a paper 
 which was printed in Flower's Cambridge Intelligencer. But 
 
 . * She felt it to be, as she herself expresses it, " a prodigious disadvantage 
 to a man not to have had a sister." But in Mr. Robinson's case she did her 
 utmost to make up the deficiency. Indeed, few elder sisters have done more 
 for her brother than she seems to have done for her friend. He had so much 
 esteem for her judgment and such a perfect reliance on the genuine kindness 
 which actuated all her conduct towards him that there was no danger of 
 offence or misunderstanding when she pointed out his weakness or faults, and 
 expressed her anxiety as to the effect of any pursuit on his character or on his 
 health. "There are' many points," she says, "in which from the circum- 
 stances in which you have been placed, the habit of feeling you have acquired 
 is not like that of other people " ; but she adds, " of all those whom I knew in 
 childhood or youth you are the only one who has retained any likeness to 
 myself; and you are so like that I wonder how it is possible that you can be 
 to different." 
 
1795.J INTERVAL AT BURY. 21 
 
 one practical effect of Godwin's book was to make me less in- 
 clined to follow the law, or any other profession as a means of 
 livelihood. I determined to practise habits of rigid economy, 
 and then I thought my small income would suffice with such 
 additions as might be gained by literature. 
 
 In the autumn of this year I was led to take a part in pub- 
 lic matters, and from its being the first act of the kind, I may 
 here relate it. In consequence of Kyd Wake's * attack upon 
 the King, two Acts were introduced, called the Pitt and Gren- 
 ville Acts for better securing the King's person. They were 
 deemed an infringement on the Constitution, and in every part 
 of the kingdom petitions were prepared against them and pub- 
 lic meetings held. The drawing up of the petition and ob- 
 taining signatures at Bmy were intrusted to Walter Wright 
 and myself I was very active, but nevertheless impartial 
 enough to see all that was foolish in the business, and it is a 
 satisfaction to me to recollect the great glee w^ith w^hich I read 
 Johnson's admirable satirical account of a petition in his 
 *^ False Alarm." I have pleasure also in remembering that 
 even while I was a partisan of the French Revolution I was an 
 admirer of Burke, not merely for his eloquence, but also for 
 his philosophy. It was after the Bury petition had been pre- 
 pared that a county meeting w^as held at Stowmarket. Mr. 
 Grigby was in the chair ; the Whig Baronets Sir W^. Middleton 
 and Sir W. Rowley attended ; but the hero of the day was 
 Capel Lofft. He spoke at great length, and as I thought, very 
 admirably. His voice was sweet, though feeble. He was the 
 only orator I had heard except at the bar and in the pulpit. 
 The Whig gentry became impatient and at length retired, but 
 by way of compromise, after Mr. Lofft's resolutions had been 
 passed, the Bury petition was clamorously called for. Towards 
 the end of the proceedings, I got upon the wagon and was 
 endeavoring to prompt Mr. Lofft to move a vote of thanks, 
 when he suddenly introduced me to the meeting, as one to 
 whom the county was greatly indebted as the author of the 
 petition. This little incident served as a sort of precocious 
 introduction to public Hfe. 
 
 ^ * Kyd Wake, a journeyman printer, was convicted for insulting the King in 
 his state carriage, and sentenced to stand an hour in the pillory each day for 
 three months and to be imprisoned for five vears. The "'Treason" and 
 *' Sedition" Bills were laid before Parliament November 6 and November 10, 
 1795. . ' 
 
 See Stanhope's " Life of William Pitt," Vol. II. p. 358. 
 
22 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1796-1800. UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 
 
 ON the 20th of April I went to London with the intention 
 of entering an attorney's office in order to qualify my- 
 self for practice. This step was taken, not on account of my 
 having less dislike to the law as a profession, but because 
 friends urged me, and because I was unwilling to remain idle 
 any longer. My lodgings were of a simple kind, in Drury 
 Lane, and my expenses not more than about a guinea a week ; 
 but a first residence in London cannot be otherwise than a 
 kind of epoch in life. 
 
 Among the new acquaintance which I formed there is one 
 of whom I was proud, and to whom I feel considerable obliga- 
 tion, — John Towill Eutt. He was the son of an affluent drug- 
 grinder, and might possibly have himself died rich if he had 
 not been a man of too much literary taste, public spirit, and 
 religious zeal to be able to devote his best energies to business. 
 He was brought up an orthodox dissenter, and married into a 
 family of like sentiments. His wife was an elder sister of Mrs. 
 Thomas Isaac, daughter of Mr. Pattisson of Maldon and first 
 cousin of my friend William Pattisson. I was therefore doubly 
 introduced to him. I had the good fortune to please him, and 
 he became my chief friend. He had become a Unitarian, and 
 was a leading member of the Gravel Pit congregation. Hack- 
 ney, of which Belsham was the pastor. Mr. Rutt was the 
 friend and biographer of Gilbert Wakefield and of Priestley. 
 He also edited the entire works of the latter. He was proud 
 of having been, with Lord Grey, an original member of the 
 Society of the Friends of the People. The eldest daughter of 
 his large family is the widow of the late Sir T. N. Talfourd. 
 
 My days were spent in attending the courts with very little 
 profit. I heard Erskine frequently, and my admiration of him 
 was confirmed ; but I acquired no fresh impression concerning 
 him. 
 
 I tried to procure a suitable situation but without success ; 
 and this, with an almost morbid feeling of my own ignorance, 
 made m6 more unhappy than I had been before, or ever wan 
 afterwards. Thus discouraged, I returned to Bury in the 
 
17^.6.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON- 23 
 
 summer. My brother's marriage, which took place soon after- 
 wards, was the cause of my being introduced to an entirely 
 new connection, — the Fordhams and Nashes of Royston. The 
 most prominent of the former for wealth and persimal charac- 
 ter was Edward King Fordham, a remarkable man, who re- 
 tained his bodily and mental vigor to a great age. Of all 
 these new friends the one to whom I became most indebted 
 was Mr. WiUiam Nash, an eminent sohcitor and a first-rate 
 character in the sphere in which he moved. Both of these 
 families were liberal in religious opinion and zealous for polit- 
 ical reform. There had been estabhshed at Royston a book- 
 club, and twice a year the members of it were invited to a tea- 
 party at the largest room the little town supphed, and a reg- 
 ular debate was held. In former times this debate had been 
 honored by the participation of no less a man than Robert 
 Hal]. My friend J. T. Rutt and Benjamin Flower, the ultra- 
 liberal proprietor and editor of the Cambridge Intelligencer, hs^A 
 also taken part. To one of these meetings my brother was 
 invited and I as a sort of satellite to him. There was a com- 
 pany of forty-four gentlemen and forty-two ladies. The ques- 
 tion discussed was, " Is private affection inconsistent with 
 universal benevolence ] " Not a disputable point, but it was 
 meant to involve the merits of Godwin as a philosopher, and 
 as I had thought, or rather talked much about him, I had an 
 advantage over most of those who were present. I have no 
 doubt that what I said was, in truth, poor stuff, but I was very 
 young, had great vivacity and an abundance of words. Among 
 the speakers were Benjamin Flower, Mr. Rutt, and four or five 
 ministers of the best reputation in the place ; yet I obtained 
 credit, and the solid benefit of the good opinion and kindness 
 of Mr. Nash. He was told of my unsettled state and my want 
 of an introduction in London. He did not offer to be of any 
 practical use, perhaps had not the means, but his advice was 
 emphatically given in the words, Fag, fag, fag." By laborious 
 fagging he had raised himself to wealth and distinction. 
 
 On my return to my old London quarters in October I en- 
 tered a solicitors office on the condition of nothing being paid 
 on either side. This was Mr. White's office in Chancery Lane. 
 My occupation was almost entirely mechanical, and therefore 
 of no great advantage to me. My leisure was devoted partly 
 to legal and miscellaneous reading, from which I derived little 
 profit, and partly to attending debating societies, which af- 
 forded me practice in public speaking, and thus materially 
 
24 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 contributed to my moderate success in life. At the meet- 
 ings of one of these societies I frequently had, as an adver- 
 sary, John Gale Jones. At those of another, to which Mr. 
 Eutt introduced me, and which was presided over by Belsham, 
 I formed a lifelong friendship with Mr. Anthony Eobinson, 
 whose powers of conversation were far greater than those of 
 any other of my acquaintance. 
 
 1797. 
 The Servile Year. 
 
 I have spent several days in deciphering a short-hand 
 journal, and looking over a collection of letters belonging to 
 this year ; an employment that must have humiliated me, if 
 after half a century it were possible to have a strong sense of 
 personal identity. Thus much I must say, that if " the child " 
 (in this instance the youth) be " father of the man," I must 
 plead guilty to the impiety of despising my parent. 
 
 How long I should have gone on in my mechanical work 
 there is no guessing, had not an accident relieved me. 
 
 There came to the office one day a clerk who was going to 
 leave his situation at Mr. Hoper's (Boyle Street, Saville Row), 
 and he advised me to apply for it, which T did, and was ac- 
 cepted as a conveyancing clerk at a guinea a week. I went 
 on the 5th of April. At the end of three weeks, however, 
 my employer told me he should no longer need my services, 
 but had recommended me to a better place than his. This 
 was in the office of Mr. Joseph Hill, of Saville Row, with 
 whom I remained from the 28th of April till my uncle's death 
 at the close of the year. Mr. Hill's name appears in the Life 
 of Cowper, whose particular friend he was. He had no general 
 law practice, but was steward to several noblemen. All I had 
 to do was to copy letters, make schedules of deeds, and keep 
 accounts. My service was light but by no means favorable to 
 my advancement in legal knowledge. I attended from half 
 past nine or ten till five, and had therefore leisure for reading. 
 The treatment I received was kind, though I was kept at a 
 distance. Mr. Hill seemed to have an interest in my welfare, 
 and gave me good counsel. He had a country-house at War- 
 grave, on the Thames, and was frequently absent for weeks 
 together in the summer. When he was in London he sent 
 me very nice meat hmcheons, which usually served me for 
 dinner. On the whole I was not at all uncomfortable, and 
 
1797.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 25 
 
 should have been even happy if I could have kept out of my 
 thoughts the consideration that I was, after all, it was to be 
 hoped, fit for something better than to be a writing-clerk at a 
 guinea a week. 
 
 On going to Mr. Hoper's I removed from Drury Lane to 
 small and neat rooms on the second floor at 20 Sherrard 
 Street. One of my principal amusements was the theatre. 
 I had gi^eat pleasm^e in the acting of Mrs. Jordan and others, 
 but my admiration for Mrs. Siddons was boundless. One lit- 
 tle anecdote concerning her effect upon me has been printed in 
 Campbell's life of her. I had told it to Charles Young, and 
 he thought he was at liberty to repeat it for publication. 
 
 The play was " Fatal Curiosity," acted for her benefit. In 
 the scene in which her son having put into her hands a casket 
 to keep, and she having touched a spring it opens and she 
 sees jewels, her husband (Kemble) enters, and in despair ex- 
 claims, " Where shall we get bread 1 " With her eyes fixed 
 on the jewels, she runs to him, knocks the casket against her 
 breast, and exclaims, " Here ! Here ! " In Mrs. Siddons's tone 
 and in her look there was an anticipation of the murder which 
 was to take place. I burst out into a loud laugh, which occa- 
 sioned a cry of '' Turn him out ! " This cry frightened me, 
 but I could not refrain. A good-natured woman near me 
 called out, "' Poor young man, he cannot help it." She gave 
 me a smelling-bottle, which restored me, but I was quite 
 shaken, and could not relish the little comedy of "• The Deiice 
 is in him," though Mrs. Siddons played in it. I thought her 
 humor forced, and every expression overdone. By the by, 
 the title of the piece may have been '^ Diamond cut Dia- 
 mond." It is the only piece in which I did not admire Mrs. 
 Siddons. 
 
 The Forums were a source of great enjoyment to me. They 
 exercised my mind, and whatever faculty of public speaking I 
 afterwards possessed I acquired at these places. If the at- 
 tention my speeches received from others may be regarded as 
 a criterion, my progress seems to have been very considerable. 
 In general the speakers were not men of culture or refine- 
 ment. There was one, however, of extreme liberal opinions, 
 who was distinguished from all others by an aristocratic air. 
 His voice was weak but pleasing, and his tone that of a high- 
 bred gentleman. Some compliments paid me by him were 
 particularly acceptable. He was accompanied by his wife, 
 one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. On one 
 
 VOL. I. 2 
 
26 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 occasion I chanced to sit next to her and a very lively and 
 agreeable lady who accompanied her. No gentleman was 
 with them. She asked me whether I did not know Hardy 
 the patriot ; and as she seemed to know me, I ventured to 
 offer my services in procuring them a carriage. But none 
 was to be had, and so I saw them safely home. In a few days 
 I had a call from her husband, Mr. Collier, to thank me for 
 my attention. Thus began an acquaintance, which lasted 
 through life, and was to me of inestimable value. The Col- 
 liers passed through great changes of fortune, but if I had it 
 in my power to render them any service or kindness I have 
 always felt it to be very far below what they rendered to me. 
 Perhaps they thought otherwise, — it is well when persons 
 can so estimate their relation to each other. 
 
 In some money transactions that passed between Mr. C. 
 and me, the only dispute we ever had was that each wished 
 to give the other some advantage which he would not take. 
 The eldest son, John Payne Collier, the editor of Shakespeare, 
 is now one of my most respected friends. The parents have 
 long been dead. 
 
 At the Westminster Forum late in the year I made a suc- 
 cessful speech on the French Revolution, and among those 
 present was one of the most respectable inhabitants of Bury, 
 Gamaliel Lloyd, a gentleman of fortune, — a Whig of the old 
 school, a friend of Cartwright and Wyvill as well as Capel 
 Lofft. I knew him merely by meeting him at the Bury 
 Library. He complimented me on this occasion, and an in- 
 vitation to his lodgings was the origin of an acquaintance of 
 which I was proud. He was a fine specimen of the Yorkshire 
 gentry. He has long been dead, leaving as his present repre- 
 sentative William Horton Lloyd, a most respectable man. 
 Leonard Horner is the husband of G. L.'s second daughter. 
 One of her daughters will probably be hereafter Lady Bun- 
 bury ; another is married to Sir Charles Lyell. 
 
 My old friend Pattisson lodged in Carey Street. We saw 
 each other daily, and in order to avoid missing each other we 
 agreed always to pass through certain streets between our two 
 abodes. I recollect with tenderness how many hours of com- 
 fort and enjoyment I owed to his companionship. At his 
 apartments I became acquainted with Richard Taylor, the 
 eminent printer and common-council man. 
 
1798.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONIX)N. 27 
 
 1798. 
 
 On the first of January in this year I received the news of 
 the death of my uncle Robinson. He was good-natured and 
 liberal, and richer than any other relation. His property was 
 left to my brothers and myself. I soon ascertained that I 
 should have about a hundred pounds per annum. A very 
 poor income for a student aspiring to the bar ; a comfortable 
 independence to fall back upon for one content to live humbly 
 as a literary man. Between a legal and a literary occupation 
 I was unable at once to determine. All I resolved on for the 
 present was to quit Mr. Hill. With him I was idling away 
 my time and learning nothing. I remained with him till the 
 5th of March, when he was able to procure a successor. He 
 dismissed me with good advice, counselling me to lead a life 
 of business, and warning me against indulging in habits of 
 speculation. This he said in a parental way. I met him 
 afterwards in the streets, but was never recognized by him. 
 
 On the 6th of May I went down to Bury and did not re- 
 turn till October. In the interval I made a visit to Norwich 
 and Yarmouth. At the latter place I stayed four weeks. My 
 main inducement was to read to Harley, a blind man I became 
 acquainted with through Miss Maling. An interesting man in 
 humble circumstances. At Yarmouth also I fell in with 
 two young men about to go to Germany to study. One after- 
 wards became famous. Captain Parry, the traveller and dis- 
 coverer in the Polar regions. 
 
 But the most eventful occurrence of the year was an intro- 
 duction to William Taylor of Norwich, who encouraged in me 
 a growing taste for German literature. 
 
 I had already thought of a visit to Germany, and my de- 
 sire to go was very much strengthened. But it proceeded chiefly 
 from dissatisfaction with my present pursuits, and from a 
 vague wish to be where I was not. 
 
 What I have written about my general occupations in 1797 
 is applicable to a large part of this year. I went on reading 
 in a desultory way. Books were oddly jumbled together in 
 my brain. I took a few lessons in German. 
 
 In my visit to Bury I found I had already acquired a bad 
 character for free thinking. This led to a correspondence be- 
 tween the famous Robt. Hall and me. I heard that he had 
 told Mr. Nash it was disgraceful to him as a Christian to ad- 
 mit me into his house. I remonstrated with Mr. Hall for thia 
 
28 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 officious interference, and asked him why he had defamed me. 
 He answered me in a letter which I have preserved as a 
 curiosity. It is an excellent letter of the kind. He said he 
 believed me to be a professor of infidelity, of pantheism, and 
 therefore as became him he warned a Christian brother of the 
 peril of intercourse with me. On his own principles he was 
 right. My letter I have also preserved. It is as ill as his ia 
 well written. 
 
 To THE Rev. R. Hall. 
 
 Yarmouth, 30th August, 1798. 
 Sir, — Your own good sense will suggest every apology 
 necessary for troubling you with this unpleasant letter. Un- 
 pleasant it certainly is for me to write, and it will be more or 
 less so for you to receive, as your recollection may echo the 
 observations I have to make. I am informed that you have 
 of late distinguished yourself by displaying much zeal against 
 certain very prevalent speculative opinions. And I am also 
 told that in connection with such subjects you have thought 
 proper frequently and generally to introduce my name and 
 character. Recollecting probably the great secret of poetry, 
 where beauty and effect consist in the lively representation of 
 individual objects, you have, it seems, found it convenient to 
 point the sting of your denunciation by setting the mark of 
 censiu^e and reprobation on my forehead. I hear too that you 
 have travelled amongst my friends in a neighboring county, 
 urging them no longer to honor me with their friendship, and 
 declaring it to be a disgrace to them to admit me into their 
 houses. I will name but one person, and that a gentleman 
 for whom I feel the warmest sensations of esteem and love ; 
 and the loss of whose good opinion I should consider as a very 
 serious privation, Mr. Nash, of Royston. And this style I 
 understand you scruple not to hold in large and mixed com- 
 panies, where I am of course unknown, and where only, I flat- 
 ter myself, your labors could be successful. Indeed, sir, I as 
 little deserve the honor of such notice from you as I do the 
 disgrace of so much obloquy. But not having so much of the 
 childish vanity of being talked about, as of the honorable de- 
 sire to be esteemed by the truly respectable, I am compelled 
 to remonstrate with you, and call upon you for some reason 
 why you have thus made an attack, in its possible conse- 
 quences incalculably injurious to the reputation of a young 
 man, who is an entire stranger to you. Were I addressing a 
 
1798.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 29 
 
 man of the world, I know that what I have written is vague 
 enough to allow room for evasion and prevarication, for a 
 denial of having used the precise terms stated, and for a de- 
 mand of my authors. But I recollect that you have adopted 
 a profession of high pretensions, and that it is probable you 
 will excuse yourself on the ground of performing a religious 
 duty. As such you cannot scruple to inform me what more 
 and worse things you have said, — particularly what opinions 
 they are which excite so much anger, and what authority you 
 have for imputing them to me. I do not accuse you of per- 
 sonal malignity, but I charge you with wantonly casting 
 arrows and death. And it matters not to the sufferer whether 
 sport or false zeal direct the aim. I do not think you capable 
 of inventing calumny ; but it seems that you have heedlessly 
 built opinions on vague report, drawn unwarrantable inferences 
 from general appellations, and carelessly trifled with the hap- 
 piness of others as objects below yom* regard. ConstitutionaL 
 ly enthusiastic, I have warmly expressed, perhaps without 
 enow limitations, my high admiration of the '* Political Justice." 
 Hence, I suspect, all the misapprehension. I was told by a 
 gentleman who knows you well, that so inveterate was your 
 rage against Mr. Godwin, that when any incident of unnatural 
 depravity or abandoned profligacy was mentioned, your excla- 
 mation has been, ^'I could not have supposed any man capable 
 of such an action, except Godwin." Excuse me when I add, 
 that had this been told me of a stranger, I should have felt 
 great contempt for him. I could not despise Mr. Hall ; and 
 therefore it only added one more to the list of examples which 
 prove a most important truth, that the possession of the greats 
 est talents is no security against the grossest absurdities and 
 weaknesses. I do not choose to consider this as an exculpatory 
 letter, and therefore I will not state why I admire the " Politi- 
 cal Justice " ; but fis I understand that the sprinkling I have 
 felt is but a spray of the torrent cast on poor Godwin, it is hardly 
 irrelevant for me to remark, that such intemperate abuse will 
 be received by some with stupid and vulgar applause, and by 
 others with pity and regTet. I am anxious you should not 
 mistake me. I believe your motives, so far as you could be 
 conscious of them, were good ; that zeal (always respectable 
 whatever be its object) alone impelled you ; but I fear that, 
 like most zealots, your views were confined and partial, and 
 that, eager to do your duty towards your God, you forgot what 
 you owed to your neighbor ; that your imagination, forcibly 
 
30 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 excited by passion, waited not for the dull inquiry, the tedious 
 discrimination of your judgment ; and that you reasoned ab- 
 surdly, because you felt passionately. R. is a Godwinite — 
 therefore an atheist — therefore incapable of virtuous habits 
 or benevolent feelings — therefore disposed only to commit 
 crimes and make proselytes — therefore I ought to use my 
 appropriate weapons of excommunication by exciting against 
 him both his friends and strangers, and deprive him of all 
 power to do injury by blasting his reputation, and making him 
 an object of hatred and contempt. Thus, by the ruin of one, 
 I shall save many. Something of this kind, though certainly 
 short of its extent, has probably influenced 3^ou. However, 
 giving you credit for integTity and benevolence, of which I 
 shall be better able to judge hereafter, I remain, without en- 
 mity, and with respect for your general character, 
 
 Yours, &c., 
 
 H. C. K 
 
 To Mr. Henry Eobinson. 
 
 October 13, 1798. Cambridge. 
 
 Sir, — That I have not paid to your frank and manly letter 
 the prompt and respectful attention it deserved, my only 
 apology is a variety of perplexing incidents which have left 
 me till now little leisure or spirits. 
 
 Before I proceed to justify my conduct, I will state-^to you 
 very briefly the information on which it was founded, not 
 doubting that where I may seem to usurp the oflice of a cen- 
 sor you will attribute it to the necessity of self-defence. 
 
 I have been led to believe you make no scruple on all occa- 
 sions to avow your religious scepticism, that you have publicly 
 professed your high admiration of the " Political Justice," even 
 to the length of declaring, I believe at the Royston Book Club, 
 that no man ever understood the nature 'of virtue so well as 
 Mr. Godwin; from which I have drawn the following infer- 
 ence, either that you disbelieve the being of God and a fu- 
 ture state, or that admitting them to be true, in your opin- 
 ion they have no connection with the nature of virtue ; the 
 first of which is direct and avowed, the second practical athe- 
 ism. For whether there be a God is merely a question of cu- 
 rious speculation, unless the belief in him be allowed to direct 
 and enforce the practice of virtue. The theopathetic affections, 
 such as love, reverence, resignation, &c., form in the estima- 
 tion of all theists a very sublime and important class of vir- 
 
1798.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 31 
 
 tues. Mr. Godwin as a professed atheist is very consistent in 
 excluding them from his catalogue ; but how he who does so 
 can be allowed best to understand the nature of virtue, by 
 any man who is not himself an atheist, I am at a loss to con- 
 ceive. 
 
 A person of undoubted veracity assured me that on being 
 gently reprimanded by a lady for taking the name of God in 
 vain in a certain company, you apologized by exhibiting such 
 an idea of God as appeared to him to coincide with the system 
 of Spinoza, in which everything is God, and God is everything. 
 Since the receipt of your letter I applied to this gentleman, 
 who confirms his first information, but is concerned at having 
 mentioned the circumstance, as it might be construed into an 
 abuse of the confidence of private conversation. You will 
 oblige me by not compelling me to give up his name. Of this 
 you may rest satisfied, he will make no ungenerous use of this 
 incident, and that his character is at the utmost removed from 
 that of a calumniator. He will not afiirm the sentiments 
 you uttered were serious ; they might be a casual effort of 
 sportive ingenuity, but their coincidence with other circum- 
 stances before mentioned strengthened my former impres- 
 sions. 
 
 More recently I have been told your chief objection to the 
 system of Godwin is an apprehension of its being too delicate 
 and refined for the present corrupt state of society ; which 
 from a person of your acknowledged good sense surprised me 
 much, because the most striking and original part of his sys- 
 tem, that to which he ascends, through the intermediate stages, 
 as the highest point of perfection, — the promiscuous inter- 
 course of the sexes, — has been uniformly acted upon by all 
 four-footed creatures from the beginning of the world. 
 
 In another particular I am sincerely glad to find myself mis- 
 taken. From a late conversation with Mr. Ebenezer Foster, I 
 was induced to suppose you had been at pains to infuse into 
 his mind atheistical doubts. I retract this opinion with pleas- 
 ure as founded on misapprehension. Having no reason to 
 doubt of your honor, your disavowal of any opinion will be 
 perfectly satisfactory. I will repeat that disavowal to any 
 person whom I may have unintentionally misled. 
 
 In exonerating me from the suspicion of being actuated by 
 personal malignity, you have done me justice ; but you have 
 formed an exaggerated idea of those circumstances in my con- 
 duct which wear the appearance of hostility. Your moral 
 
32 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 character has been unimpeached. I have neither invented nor 
 circulated slander. On the contrary, when I have expressed 
 myself with the greatest freedom, I have been careful to pre- 
 mise that I had no personal acquaintance with you, that your 
 manners might for anything I knew be correct, and that all 
 the censiu-e attached or fear expressed was confined to the li- 
 centious opinions I understood you to embrace. I have never 
 travelled a mile on your account. My efibrts have been con- 
 fined to an attempt within a very limited circle (for it. is in a 
 very limited circle I move) to warn some young people against 
 forming a close intimacy with a person w^ho by the possession 
 of the most captivating talents was likely to give circulation 
 and eff'ect to the most dangerous errors. As you allude to a 
 conversation with Mr. Nash (whom in common with you I 
 highly esteem), I will relate it to you as nearly as my recol- 
 lection will serve. After a sort of desultory debate on heresy and 
 scepticism, he told me he designed at your next visit to Roys- 
 ton to request you to make his house your home. Warmed 
 in a degree, though not irritated by the preceding dispute, I 
 replied it was all very proper considering him as a man of the 
 world, but considering him as a Christian it was very unprin- 
 cipled, — an expression of greater asperity, I will allow, than 
 either politeness to him or delicacy to you will perfectly justi- 
 fy. I conceived myself at liberty to express my sentiments 
 the more freely to Mr. Nash because he is a member and an 
 officer in our Church. 
 
 I have ventured repeatedly to express my apprehension of 
 baneful consequences arising from your attendance at the 
 book club, where if your principles be such as I have supposed, 
 you have a signal opportunity, from the concourse of young 
 people assembled, of extending the triumph of the new phi- 
 losophy. 
 
 Such, as far as my recollection reaches, is the faithful sketch 
 of those parts of my conduct which have provoked your dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 To make an attack in its possible consequences incalculably 
 injurious, to seek the salvation of others by your ruin, are 
 the gigantic efforts of a powerful malignity, equally remote 
 from my inclination and ability. The rapid increase of irre- 
 ligion among the polite and fashionable, and descending of 
 late to the lower classes, has placed serious believers so entire- 
 ly on the defensive, that they will think themselves happy if 
 they can be secure from contempt and insult. 
 
1798.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 33 
 
 How far a regard to speculative opinion ought to regulate the 
 choice of oui' friendships is a delicate question never likely to 
 be adjusted harmoniously by two persons who think so differ- 
 ently of the importance of truth and the mischief of error. 
 Principles of irreligion, recommended by brilliant and seduc- 
 tive talents, appear to me more dangerous in the intercourse of 
 private life than licentious manners. 
 
 Vice is a downcast, self-accusing culprit ; error often assimies 
 an appearance which captivates and dazzles. The errors — or 
 rather the atrocious speculations — of Godwin's system are big 
 with incalculable mischief They confound all the duties and 
 perplex all the relations of human life : they innovate in the 
 very substance of virtue, about which philosophers of all sects 
 have been nearly agreed. They render vice systematic and con- 
 certed ; and by freeing the conscience from every restraint, and 
 teaching men to mock at futurity, they cut off from the crimi- 
 nal and misguided the very possibility of retreat. Atheism in 
 every form I abhor, but even atheism has received from Godwin 
 new degrees of deformity, and wears a more wild and savage 
 aspect. I am firmly of opinion the avowal of such a system, 
 accompanied with an attempt to proselyte, ought not to be tol- 
 erated in the state, much less be permitted to enter the recess- 
 es of private life, to pollute the springs of domestic happiness 
 or taint the purity of confidential intercourse. For the first of 
 these sentiments, Mr. Godwin's disciples will doubtless regard 
 me with ineffable contempt ; a contempt which I am prepared 
 to encounter, shielded by the authority of all pagan antiquity, 
 as well as by the decided support of Mr. Locke, the first of 
 Christian philosophers and political reasoners. 
 
 I appeal to a still higher authority for the last, to those 
 Scriptures which as a Christian minister I am solemnly 
 pledged not only to explain and inculcate, but to take for 
 the standards of my own faith and practice. 
 
 The Scriptures forbid the disciples of Christ to form any near 
 relation, any intimate bond of union, with professed infidels. 
 "Be ye not unequally yoked together with imhelievers ; for 
 what fellowship hath righteousness with imrighteousness, and 
 what communion hath light with darkness, and what concord 
 hath Christ with Belial, and what part hath he that helievcth 
 with an infidel ? Wherefore come out from amongst them 
 and be ye separate, saith the Lord." If it be urged that this 
 precept primarily respects the case of marriage with an infidel, 
 it is obvious to reply that the reason of marriaere with such 
 
34 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 persons being prohibited is the intimate friendship which such 
 union impHes. 
 
 I am, sir, 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 
 R. Hall. 
 
 1799. 
 
 When I became a professed follower of Godwin as a moral 
 philosopher I could not but be also an admirer of his ally 
 Holcroft, whose novels ''Anna St. Ives" and ''Hugh Trevor" 
 I had read with avidity ; and I had thought his conduct noble 
 in siH-rendering himself in court when the trial of Thomas 
 Hardy began. I was introduced to Holcroft by Collier, but 
 the acquaintance never flourished. I was present, however, 
 at a remarkable dinner at his house (14th March). Aicken, 
 of the Drury Lane company, highly respectable both as a 
 man and an actor, and Sharp the engraver, were there. The 
 latter is stiU named as one of the most eminent of English 
 engi^avers ; he is at the head of the English school. I possess 
 one of his works which is a masterpiece, — " The Doctors of 
 the Church," by Guide. I am no connoisseur certainly, and 
 perhaps have no delicate sense of the beauty of engraving ; 
 but I never look on this specimen without a lively pleasure. 
 Sharp was equally well known in another character which I 
 will exemplify by an anecdote from the lips of Flaxman. 
 "After Brothers had rendered himself by his insanity the 
 object of universal interest, to which publicity had been given 
 by the motion of Halked in the House of Commons, I had a 
 visit from my old friend Sharp. ' I am come,' said he, ' to 
 speak to you on a matter of some importance. You are 
 aware of the great mission with which the Lord has intrusted 
 Brothers 1 ' I intimated that I had heard what everybody 
 else had heard. ' Well,' he continued, ' perhaps you have not 
 heard that I am to accompany the Children of Israel on their 
 taking possession of their coimtry, the Holy Land. Indeed, 
 I think I shall have much to do in the transplanting of the 
 nation. I have received my instructions, and I have to in- 
 form you that you also are to accompany them. I know from 
 authority that you are of the seed of Abraham.' I bowed 
 and intimated my sense of the honor done me by the invita- 
 tion, but said it was quite impossible. I had other duties 
 set out for me. On my return from Rome I bought this 
 house, and established myself here, and here I must maintain 
 
1799.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 35 
 
 myself and my family. ' I am aware of all that, said Sharp, 
 ' and I have an-anged everything. I know very well yon are 
 a great artist, I know too that you are a -great architect as 
 well as a great sculptor. I shall have intrusted to me the 
 office of making all the chief appointments on this journey, 
 and I pledge myself that you shall have the rebuilding of 
 the Temple.' " The same mental delusion showed itself at 
 the dinner at Holer oft' s. On leaving the table Sharp called 
 his host out of the room to say that Buonaparte was quite 
 safe, — it was communicated to him last night by authority. 
 There had been a great battle yesterday in Germany. Sharp 
 was one of the objects of suspicion to the English govern- 
 ment during the famous trials of 1794. He was a violent 
 Jacobin and an extreme and passionate partisan of the Ee- 
 publicans. There is to be met with in the cabinets of the 
 curious an admired engraving by him of Thomas Paine, as 
 also of Brothers, whom he regarded as the messenger and 
 sent of God."^ 
 
 It is w^ell known that the French Revolution turned the 
 brains of many of the noblest youths in England. Indeed, 
 when such men as Coleridge, Wordsworth, Southey, caught 
 the infection, no wonder that those who partook of their sen- 
 sibility but had a very small portion of their intellect were 
 carried away. Many were ruined by the errors into which 
 they were betrayed ; many also lived to smile at the follie.s of 
 their youth. " I am no more ashamed of having been a re- 
 publican," said Southey, " than I am of having been a child." 
 The opinions held led to many political prosecutions, and I 
 natm-ally had much sympathy with the sufferers. I find in 
 my journal, February 21, 1799, ^* An interesting and memora- 
 ble day." It was the day on which Gilbert Wakefield was 
 convicted of a seditious libel and sentenced to two years' im- 
 prisonment. This he suffered in Dorchester jail, which he 
 left onlv to die. Originallv of the Established Church, he 
 became a Unitarian, and professor at the Hackney College. 
 By profession he was a scholar. His best kno^\Ti work was 
 an edition of " Lucretius." He had written against Porson's 
 edition of the '' Hecuba of Euripides." f It is said that Per- 
 son was at a dinner-party at which toasts were going round ; 
 
 * Sharp's engi-avincr of " Richard Brothers, Prince of the Hebrews." is a 
 small square, dated 1795. Belo\Y it is inscribed: " Fullv believing th.is to be 
 the Man whom God has appointed, I enorave his likeness.'— William Sharp." 
 
 t In Euripidis Hecubam Londini nuper publicatam Diatribe Kxtemporalis. 
 
36 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 and a name, accompanied by an appropriate sentence from 
 Shakespeare, was required from each of the guests in suc- 
 cession. Before Porson's turn came he had disappeared be- 
 neath the table, and was supposed to be insensible to what 
 was going on. This, however, was not the case, for when a 
 toast was required of him, he staggered up and gave, " Gilbert 
 Wakefield ! — what 's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba % " 
 Wakefield was a political fanatic. He had the pale com- 
 plexion and mild featiu-es of a saint, was a most gentle crea- 
 ture in domestic life, and a very amiable man ; but when he 
 took part in political or religious controversy his pen was 
 dipped in gall. The occasion of the imprisonment before 
 alluded to was a letter in reply to Watson, the Bishop of 
 Llandaff, who had written a pamphlet exhorting the people to 
 loyalty. Wakefield asserted that the poor, the laboring- 
 classes, could lose nothing by French conquest. Referring 
 to the fable of the Ass and the Trumpeter he said, " Will 
 the enemy make me carry two panniers '] " and declared that 
 if the French came they would find him at his post with the 
 illustrious dead. 
 
 The prosecution was not intemperate, but he gloried in 
 what he had done, and was actuated by the spirit of martyr- 
 dom. Nothing could be more injudicious than his defence, 
 though in a similar trial an example had been set him just 
 before by Erskine of what such a defence should be. My 
 friend Butt was one of Wakefield's bail. On being brought 
 up for judgment he spoke in mitigation, but in a way which 
 aggravated the offence. I accompanied him in a hackney- 
 coach to the King's Bench prison. While his friends were 
 arranging with the Governor about rooms there were brought 
 to the prison two young men named Parry, editors of The 
 Courier newspaper, who had been sentenced to six weeks' im- 
 prisonment for a libel on the Emperor of Bussia. The libel 
 consisted in a single paragraph, stating that the Emperor had 
 acted oppressively and made himself mipopular with the 
 nobility by a late decree prohibiting the importation of tim- 
 ber. Such was the liberty of the press in the days of William 
 Pitt! 
 
 H. C. B. TO T. BOBINSON. 
 
 (No date.) 
 
 Dear Thomas, — 
 
 .... One of the most interesting occurrences here has 
 been Wakefield's trial. How I wished that you had been 
 
1799] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 37 
 
 here then ! My acquaintance with him perhaps heightened 
 the effect ; but I think to a mere stranger his delivery of his 
 own defence must have been one of the most gratifying treats 
 which a person of taste or sensibihty could enjoy. His sim- 
 plicity quite apostolic, his courage purely heroic. The energy 
 and dignity with which he conducted himself have certainly 
 had no parallel of late years. You saw a report of his speech 
 in The Courier, It certainly was not a good defence, but as 
 Anthony Robinson observed, something better than any de- 
 fence, — a noble testimony. I dined in company with him on 
 Monday and yesterday. His spirits are not in the least de- 
 pressed. 
 
 Johnson, the Unitarian publisher in St. Paul's Churchyard, 
 was convicted of a libel for selling Wakefield's pamphlet ) 
 he was imprisoned in the King's Bench for a few months. 
 For a consideration he was allowed to occupy apartments 
 within the rules. My first visit to him in prison was in com- 
 pany with Mary Hays,'^ a very zealous political and moral re- 
 former, a friend of Mary WoUstonecraft, and author of a 
 novel called " Memoirs of Emma Courtney." I called on 
 Johnson several times and profited by his advice. He was a 
 wise man, and his remarks on the evil of indulging in melan- 
 choly forebodings were applicable to a habit of my own. He 
 described them as the effect of dreamy indolence, and as 
 liable to increase from the unhealthy state into which they 
 bring the mind. Though he did not cure me of my fault, 
 some of its consequences were mitigated. I was especially 
 unhappy from my inability to come to any satisfactory con- 
 clusion as to my plan of life. I hated the law, yet I knew 
 not how otherwise to attain any social station. I was am- 
 bitious of literary distinction, but was conscious that I could 
 never attain any reputation worth having. My desire to go 
 to Germany was rather a pis aller, than from any decided 
 preference of the comparative advantages of such a coiu-se. 
 
 One other political prisoner occasionally visited by me was 
 Benjamin Flower, who had been committed to Newgate by 
 the House of Lords for a breach of privilege. 
 
 _ * She professed Mary WoUstonecraft' s opinions with more zeal than discre- 
 tion. This brought her into disrepute among the rigid, and her character 
 suffered, —but most undesei-vedly. Whatever her principles may have been, 
 her conduct was perfectly correct. My acquaintance with her continued till 
 her death. — H. C. R. 
 
38 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother. 
 
 (About) June, 1799. 
 
 My dear Brother, — 
 
 .... I suppose the fame of " Pizarro " has akeady reached 
 you. It is unquestionably the most excellent play I ever saw 
 for variety of attractions. The scenery and decorations are 
 splendid and magnificent without being tawdry or puerile, 
 and these ornaments are made to heighten, not supersede, 
 real dramatic merit. The tragedy possesses scenes of the 
 most tender and pathetic kind, and others highly heroic. 
 Mrs. Siddons displays her usual powers in the character of 
 the mistress of Pizarro, — proud, haughty, with a true sense 
 of honor and a romantic passion for glory : in love with Pi- 
 zarro because he was great, she hates him when he degrades 
 himself by acts of meanness, — herself a criminal, her pas- 
 sion for humanity leads her to acts of heroism and despera- 
 tion. Kemble plays the Peruvian Chieftain in his very best 
 style. The lover of Cora, he voluntarily yields her to Alonzo, 
 and when they are married, devotes his life to their happi- 
 ness ; brave, generous, and pious, he is a kind of demi-god, — 
 and you know with what skill Kemble can " assume the god 
 and try to shake the spheres." The incidents are in them- 
 selves so highly interesting and extraordinary that far less 
 superiority of acting and pomp of machinery would have given 
 ordinary effect to the piece ; but, when united with the ut- 
 most efforts of the painter and machinist, they produce a dra- 
 ma absolutely without parallel. Were you a little richer I 
 should recommend a journey to London on purpose to see it. 
 
 I have also been greatly amused by hearing one of Mackin- 
 tosh's lectures. It was on the British Constitution. Though 
 his praise of the British Constitution was extravagant, he was 
 far from being uniformly favorable to the cause of government. 
 His favorite notion concerning the Constitution is, that it is 
 the most truly democratic of any that has ever existed. He 
 defines a real democracy to be a government where the opinion 
 of the body of the people influences and governs the state, 
 whatever the nominal legislature may be. And he boldly 
 asserts that a more formal democracy would lessen the real 
 democracy, because it is the nature of all mobs and public 
 assemblies to be under the secret guidance of factious dema- 
 gogues ; and that the people in such states never act, precisely 
 because they are the direct actors, and have a power nominally 
 
UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 39 
 
 given them which they cannot exercise. He urged the com- 
 mon argument in favor of Monarchy, that it took from the 
 ambitious the motives to be factious and breed dissension in 
 order to procure the principal stations ; and that the king, 
 sharing the honor of victory and the aftections of the soldiery 
 with the General, was not likely to become a military tyrant. 
 He defended Coalitions, Parties, and moderation towards ex- 
 Ministers, was eloquent against the French, but likewise hinted 
 at the danger to public liberty from not watching the govern- 
 ment. On the whole I was much pleased with the lecture, 
 which was well adapted to secure popularity. As to his poli- 
 tics, they are certainly moderate, nor do I know that he has 
 gone an inch beyond pure Whiggism. 
 
 Home Tooke has never been a favorite of mine, but I never 
 thought so well of his heart as I have done from his behavior 
 to Wakefield, which was kind and respectful ; and when we 
 consider, not how like, but how unlike their characters are, 
 his attentions do him the greatest honor. The day sentence 
 was passed he sent to Wakefield, and, in his jocular way, com- 
 forted him by observing that probably a year hence he and 
 Mrs. Wakefield would be congratulating each other on his sit- 
 uation, — " For, my dear, it has saved you," Mrs. Wakefield 
 will say ; " you see Tooke and the rest of them are half-way 
 on their voyage to Botany Bay." Home Tooke promised too, 
 old as he was, to visit him at Dorchester, though he said he 
 had not thought he should travel seven miles from Wimbledon 
 again. This looks well. You have heard, I dare say, that 
 Tooke's friends have lately raised him an annuity for life of 
 £ 600. This following Dr. Parr's and Fox's seems to show 
 
 that all regard for public characters is not at an end 
 
 Adieu. In haste. 
 
 Yours, &c., 
 
 H. C. R 
 
 I became acquainted about this time with George Dyer. 
 He was one of the best creatures morally that ever breathed. 
 He was the son of a watchman in Wapping, and was put to a 
 charity school by some pious Dissenting ladies. He afterwards 
 went to Christ's Hospital, and from there was sent to Cam- 
 bridge. He was a scholar, but to the end of his days (and he 
 lived to be eighty-five) was a bookseller's drudge. He led a 
 life of literary labor in poverty. He made indexes, corrected 
 the press, and occasionally gave lessons in Latin and Greek. 
 
40 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 When an undergraduate at Cambridge he became a hearer of 
 Robert Robinson, and consequently a Unitarian. This closed 
 the Church against him, and he never had a Fellowship. He 
 became intimate with the Nashes, Fordhams, and Rutt, and 
 was patronized by Wakefield and Mrs. Barbauld. He wrote 
 one good book, " The Life of Robert Robinson," which I 
 have heard Wordsw^orth mention as one of the best works of 
 biography in the language. Dyer also put his name to several 
 volumes of poetry ; but on his poems my friend Reid made an 
 epigram that I fear was thought just : — 
 
 " The world all say, my gentle Dyer, 
 Thy odes do very much want fire. 
 Repair the fault, my gentle Dyer, 
 And throw thy odes into the fire." 
 
 Dyer had the kindest heart and simplest manners imaginable. 
 It was literally the case with him that he would give away his 
 last guinea. He was not sensible of any impropriety in wear- 
 ing a dirty shirt or a ragged coat ; and numerous are the tales 
 told in illustration of his neglect of little every-day matters 
 of comfort. He has asked a friend to breakfast with him, and 
 given him coarse black tea, stale bread, salt butter, sour milk, 
 and has had to run out to buy sugar. Yet every one loved 
 Dyer. One day Mrs. Barbauld said to me, " Have you heard 
 whom Lord Stanhope has made executor'?" — "No! Your 
 brother ? " — " No, there would have been nothing in that. 
 The very worst imaginable." — "0, then it is Buonaparte." — 
 " No, guess again." — " George Dyer 1 " — " You are right. 
 Lord Stanhope was clearly insane ! " Dyer was one of six 
 executors. Charles James Fox was another. The executors 
 were also residuary legatees. Dyer was one of the first to 
 declare that he rejected the legacy and renounced the execu- 
 torship. But the heir insisted on granting him a small an- 
 nuity ; his friends having before settled another on him, he 
 was comparatively wealthy in his old age. Not many years 
 before his death, he married his laundress, by the advice of 
 his friends, — a very worthy woman. He said to me once, 
 " Mrs. Dyer is a woman of excellent natural sense, but she is 
 not literate." That is, she could neither read nor wTite. Dyer 
 was blind for a few years before his death. I used occasionally 
 to go on a Sunday morning to read to him. At other times a 
 poor man used to render him that service for sixpence an hour. 
 After he came to London, Dyer lived always in some viery 
 humble chambers in Clifford's Inn, Fleet Street. 
 
1799.] UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 41 
 
 Another interesting acquaintance I made at this period was 
 with William Hazlitt, — a man who has left a deservedly high 
 reputation as a critic ; but at the time I first knew him he 
 was struggling against a great difficulty of expression, which 
 rendered him by no means a general favorite in society. His 
 bashfulness, want of words, slovenliness of dress, &c., made 
 him sometimes the object of ridicule. It will be better, per- 
 haps, if I confine myself at present to describing him as he 
 was at this early period of our acquaintance. He was the 
 younger brother of John Hazlitt, the miniature painter. His 
 first design was to be a Dissenting minister ; and for that pur- 
 pose he went to the Unitarian New College, Hackney. He 
 afterwards thought of becoming a painter, and lived with his 
 brother. At our first interview I saw he was an extraordinary- 
 man. He had few friends, and was flattered by my attentions. 
 We were about the same age, and I was able to render him a 
 service by introducing him to Anthony Eobinson, who induced 
 Johnson to publish Hazlitt's first work, " The Eloquence of the 
 British Senate." Late in life, when our intimacy had been 
 broken off, he said to Mary Lamb, '^ Robinson cuts me, but I 
 shall never cease to have a regard for him, for he was the first 
 person who ever found out that there was anything in me." 
 I was alone in this opinion at the time of which I am speak- 
 ing. I recollect saying to my sister-in-law, "Whom do you 
 suppose I hold to be the cleverest person I know V — " Capel 
 Lofft, perhapsV' — "No."— ^'Mrs. Clarkson r' — " no." 
 — " Miss MaHng V' — " No." — " I give it up." — " William 
 Hazlitt." — " 0, you are joking. Why, we all take him to be 
 just the reverse." At this time he was excessively shy, espe- 
 cially in the company of young ladies, who on their part were 
 very apt to make fun of him. The prettiest girl of our parties 
 about this time was a Miss Kitchener, and she used to drive 
 him mad by teasing him. 
 
 I was under great obligations to Hazlitt as the director of 
 my taste. It was he who first made me acquainted with the 
 Lyrical Ballads and the poems generally of Wordsworth, Cole- 
 ridge, Lamb, and Southey. 
 
 Among those to whom Mary Hays introduced me was the 
 free-thinking, ultra-liberal Roman Catholic priest. Dr. Greddes, 
 translator of the Old Testament, — a man of fine person and 
 verv^ amiable manners. His wit was exhibited in macaronic 
 verses. He was a patron of two young ladies, the Miss Plump- 
 tres. Anne Plumptres made herself known as one of the first 
 
42 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 introducers of German plays, — she translated many of Kotze- 
 bue's. 
 
 During this summer my friend Miss Maling was in London, 
 living in the same house with the Archbishop of Aix, — a man 
 known to history ; he pronounced the oration at the corona- 
 tion of Louis XYL, and afterwards by the favor of Napoleon 
 obtained a cardinal's hat.* He was a zealous emigrant at this 
 time. Having conceived a great respect for Miss Maling, he 
 had destined for her the post of Lectrice to the Duchess of Or- 
 leans, had the Revolution succeeded, which was projected this 
 year. He was a man of letters and a poet. I had the honor 
 of an introduction to him, but a mere introduction. I had 
 only time to admire his majestic figure. His preaching I 
 thought magnificent. 
 
 I made in this year a pedestrian tour in Wales. On my 
 way I visited Stonehenge, — the first place I ever went to see 
 as an object of curiosity ; and I had all the enjoyment that 
 was to be derived from so novel and so sublime a scene. This 
 toiu-, of which I shall write little, afforded me the opportunity 
 of visiting two men, who suffered for political opinions, — 
 Gilbert Wakefield and John Thelwall ; the former was in pris- 
 on at Dorchester. A subscription of £ 3,000 had been raised 
 by his friends, who were thereby enabled to supply Mrs. Wake- 
 field with a very comfortable house in the vicinity of the 
 prison. Here she and the children dwelt, and a spare room 
 was always ready for some friendly visitor. During Wakefield's 
 imprisonment this room was almost always in use. I occu- 
 pied it several days, and found him suffering more in his spirits 
 than was expected. The distress he witnessed in jail, and 
 the presence of physical and moral evil, preyed on his mind 
 and seemed to crush him.f 
 
 John Thelwall, to w^hom I have already alluded, as having 
 had a narrow escape of conviction for high treason, had settled 
 down in a farm in a beautiful place near Brecon. His history 
 is known to all who care to inform themselves of the personal 
 occurrences of this eventful period. He had left his shop (that 
 of a silk mercer) to be one of the Reformers of the age. After 
 his acquittal he went about the country lecturing, and was ex- 
 
 * On the copy of a letter by the Archbishop, IMr. Robinson has written : 
 " Afterwards Cardinal Boisorelin, an emigi'ant nobleman who made his peace 
 with Buonaparte, and had his due reward in a cardinal's hat for preaching a 
 sermon on the Emperor's mamage." 
 
 t He "was released from prison May 30, 1801, and died on the 9th of Septem- 
 ber in the same year. 
 
l^.j UNSETTLED LIFE IN LONDON. 43 
 
 posed to great varieties of fortune. Sometimes he was attended 
 by numerous admirers, but more frequently hooted and pelted 
 by the mob. In order to escape prosecution for sedition he 
 took as his subject Greek and Roman History, and had ingenu- 
 ity enough to give such a coloring to events and characters as to 
 render the application to living persons and present events an 
 excitino: mental exercise. I had heard one or two of these lee- 
 tm-es, and thought very differently of him then from what I 
 thought afterwards. When, however, he found his popularity 
 on the wane, and more stringent laws had been passed, to which 
 he individually gave occasion, he came to the prudent resolution 
 of abandoning his vagrant habits and leading a domestic hfe in 
 the country. It was at this period that my visit was paid, 
 and I received a most cordial welcome. His wife was a very 
 pleasing woman, a great admirer of her husband, — never a re- 
 proach to a wife, though the kind of husband she has chosen 
 may sometimes be so. But Thelwall was an amiable man in 
 private life ; an affectionate husband, and a fond father. He 
 altogether mistook his talents, — he told me without reserve 
 that he believed he should establish his name among the epic 
 poets of England ; and it is a curious thing, considering his 
 own views, that he thought the establishment of Christianity 
 and the British Constitution very appropriate subjects for his 
 poem. 
 
 After a stay of a week, I left my friends with a strong sense 
 of their personal kindness. I may add here that when farm- 
 ing had succeeded as ill as political agitation, he took to the 
 teaching of oratory as a profession, and for a time succeeded in 
 it. For some years he had an establishment in Upper Bedford 
 Place, where he received boarders. But gradually his didactic 
 talents were directed more especially to the correction of de- 
 fects arising from the malformation of the organs of speech. 
 
 At Haverfordwest an unexpected pleasure awaited me. I 
 fell in with Robert Hall. He received me with apparent pleas- 
 ure, and was kind without being flattering. His countenance 
 indicated a powerful intellect and strong sensibility. In dis- 
 putation he expressed himself with his characteristic point, and 
 sometimes with virulence. He spoke of my sister-in-law with 
 unusual seriousness, and said she was the most extraordinary 
 instance he had ever known of a woman of superior talents 
 preserving universal respect ; abilities being so rare among 
 women, and when found so rarely accompanied by amiable 
 qualities. The only allusion he made to our correspondence 
 
44 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 was by saying of one who thought himself ill treated : " He 
 ought at once to have come forward, and in a manly way, as 
 you did, have made his complaint." 
 
 In passing through Wem in Shropshire I saw a very worthy 
 old Presbyterian minister, — not worse than an Arian, I pre- 
 sume, — the father of the Hazlitts. William, who had become 
 my friend, was not there, but John, the miniature-painter, 
 was.'^ I liked the good old man and his wife, who had all the 
 solidity (I do not mean stolidity) and sober earnestness of the 
 more respectable Noncons. There was also a maiden sister. 
 Altogether an amusing and agreeable group in my memory. 
 
 On my return from Wales I took Bath in my way. Seven 
 years had elapsed since I attended my mother in her last ill- 
 ness, and my desire to see the place of her interment was 
 increased by something Mrs. Fenner had related to me. My 
 mother had expressed pain at being buried at so great a dis- 
 tance from her children. She feared they w^ould never see her 
 grave. " But," she added, " I have no doubt Henry will come 
 though he walk." I did not need this stimulus, for my mother 
 was the sole object of my fondness as a child. It was a sub- 
 stantial gratification to me to find my mother's grave in one 
 of the most beautifully situated churchyards I ever saw, — a 
 long slip of land near Whitcomb Church. I have often visited 
 it since, and always with a sort of pleasure, f 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GERMANY. 1800 AND 1801. 
 
 I AM now come to an incident, which had a great influence 
 on my tastes and feelings, and therefore, I have no doubt, 
 on my character. In the course of this year I went to Ger- 
 many, where I remained more than five years, and pursued 
 something like study, and where I was brought into contact 
 with some of the most distinguished men of the age. 
 
 Mr. Aldebert, a German merchant with whom I had become 
 
 * An interesting but weakly painted portrait of Joseph Lancaster by John 
 Hazlitt is in the National Portrait Gallery. It is in oil, the size of li'fe, and 
 evidently the production of an artist accustomed to Avork on a smaller scale 
 with different materials. — G. S. 
 
 t This part of the Reminiscences was written in 1845 and 1846. 
 
1800.] GERMANY. 45 
 
 acquainted, undertook to convoy me as far as Frankfort. The 
 journey, which now may be accomplished easily and in a very 
 short time, was comparatively formidable at the beginning of 
 this century. We embarked at Yarmouth, on the 3d of April, 
 and on Friday evening I beheld that dismal fortress Heligo- 
 land, a scene which in my imagination might be appropriately 
 connected with Goethe's " Natiirliche Tochter." On the morn- 
 ing of the 6th we landed at Cuxhaven, and proceeded by land 
 to Hamburg. I have stDl a clear recollection of the flat, cold, 
 colorless country, which an instinctive feeling had led the in- 
 habitants to make as lively as possible by the bright green on 
 the sc^-ttered houses. 
 
 H. C. K TO HIS Brother T. K 
 
 We remained twelve days at the Kaiserhof, where we paid 
 75. a day for a dirty room on a second floor, 45. to the man 
 who waited on us at the hotel and attended us in the town, 
 and 1 s. 4 d. for breakfast ; in short, where, though we lived in 
 the plainest and most economical style, our daily bill was 
 nearly a guinea apiece. We then removed to private lodgings, 
 where the civility and honesty of the good family reminded us 
 of the family of Lot. 
 
 . • • • • 
 
 The houses at Hamburg perpetually suggest the idea that 
 you are looking at England as it was a century ago. The 
 original model of a farm-house (and farm-houses were the 
 primitive houses) as I have seen it in the wild parts of Han- 
 over, is that of one immense room, without chimney or di- 
 vision, — the various parts being allotted, as a farmer lays out 
 his different seeds or fruits. At one corner the fire, — here 
 the beds, — there the piggery, — there some furniture, — and 
 a good carriage-way all through. Now the progress of refine- 
 ment is this : after a time the sides are separated (like the 
 King's Bench and Common Pleas in Westminster Hall), glazed, 
 and adorned, for the women and children, — but still the cen- 
 tre is unpaved. I have seen several respectable houses of this 
 kind in the country near Hamburg. Refinement increases, 
 but still the old hall remains as in ancient English mansions. 
 Perhaps we have gone beyond the exact mark of propriety 
 through oiu" proud love of retirement, and by converting our 
 halls into narrow passages and large parlors, have injured our 
 houses as summer retreats and promoted the natural shyness 
 
46 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 of our tempers. In the houses near Hamburg the genteelest 
 families dine or drink coffee in their halls, and with the doors 
 open to observation and curiosity. In the town, too, most of 
 the houses have the narrow or gable end in front, which ne- 
 cessarily precludes the elegant uniformity of a Bath street, 
 bat at the same time allows of an infinite variety of ornament, 
 which gives an idea of distinctiveness, and is, I think, an ad- 
 vantage. As the stories rise, the curtain, if it may be so 
 called, is narrowed till it terminates in a pyramid. There is, 
 it must be confessed, a great waste of room in the lofty halls 
 and shops, which you see in the front of the Hamburg houses. 
 But perhaps it is more pleasing to witness resources and means 
 of future improvements, as necessities may arise, than to be- 
 hold, as in London, every inch occupied, and management and 
 economy put to their last shifts. The dress of the lower class- 
 es confirms the suggestion that Germany is now what England 
 was. Many a poor woman wears a tight black velvet bonnet 
 like that in which Mary Queen of Scots is painted. The Lu- 
 theran clergy appear to wear the cast-off ruffs of Queen Eliza- 
 beth. 
 
 After remaining a few weeks at Hamburg, we proceeded to 
 Frankfort, where Mr. Aldebert procured me lodgings near his 
 own house, and introduced me to his relations and partners. 
 I set about reading as hard as I could, dining at the various 
 hotels in the city, which were famed for their excellence. My 
 first object was to acquire a knowledge of the German lan- 
 guage, and I took lessons of an old man named Peile, who 
 confided to me that he had been when young a member of the 
 Illuminati, an order of which he gave me a better opinion than 
 I previously had, both in regard to their intentions and their 
 practical ability. 
 
 Frankfort was then a fortified town, much to its disadvan- 
 tage in regard to air and comfort, and without any adequate 
 compensation, for the fortification was next to useless. Now^ 
 in the place of the walls and ditches, there are beautiful walks 
 which render the place as agreeable as it was formerly dismal. 
 Though professedly neutral, its neutrality was violated on the 
 6th of July. 
 
 H. C. E. TO T. K 
 
 I believe were a cracker or squib to be let off in any town 
 in Great Britain, and were it thought to come from a French 
 
1800.] GERMANY. 47 
 
 hand, half the old women would be in fits. Now, I had so 
 much of the old woman in me that one day when I was sleep- 
 ing over my German grammar, and the maid burst into the 
 room, crying, " The French are at the gates," I made but two 
 skips down stairs, and flew into the principal street. It was a 
 false alarm, but I found all in confusion, — a body of Mayen- 
 gois troops had demanded entrance, and were then on their 
 march to support their allies, whom the French were attack- 
 ing a few miles off. They had cannon, with lighted matches. 
 The men were fine fellows, and without being sad were grave. 
 I knew they were going into the field, and I felt that sinking 
 within the breast which betrays the coward, — but they passed 
 aw^ay and my sinking too. The rest of the day nothing was 
 known. On the morrow we learnt that the French had been 
 thrice beaten back, but that early in the morning they had re- 
 newed the attack, and were now in the midst of the engage- 
 ment. I left my books, and hastened to the ramparts, which 
 were povered with idlers. Couriers passed backwards and for- 
 wards, but nobody knew what was going forward. Citizens 
 are mob, and soldiers are gentlemen at such times; and 
 Sterne's remark concerning Susanna and the women at a groan- 
 ing might be parodied here. Our ciu-iosity was not left, how- 
 ever, to starve for want of nourishment ; every now and then 
 a wagon slowly entered the town, and though covered with 
 straw or cloth, we generally could perceive something moving 
 underneath, — it was only a wounded man, — nothing more ! 
 By and by I ventured, with the doctor of the house, to make 
 an excursion. We walked up a hill, and were near enough to 
 hear the discharge of musketry, and see the smoke and flash 
 of the cannons, but that was all. And I was half angry with 
 myself for being so composed. It was probable that every in- 
 stant some horrid wound was inflicted, or some wretch sudden- 
 ly carried ofl*, and yet I ate cherries ! And how could it be 
 otherwise '? We are sympathetic ; and indifference, or the 
 want of passion, is catching as well as passion itself. The 
 persons around me were at their ease, and that made me so in 
 a great degree. I cannot forbear to make a remark, which 
 though simple is important. From the modern system of war 
 and politics, by which the civil and the military state are so 
 much separated, and the subject is so much distinguished from 
 the prince, this consequence has arisen, — that w^ar has ceased 
 to be a matter of national passion, and has become in a great 
 degree a professional business. At least in this neighborhood 
 it is so. 
 
48 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 Next day in the evening the French actually came, and I, 
 standing on the Avails, witnessed their entrance. The general 
 indifference at the event confounded me ; but it was in reality 
 an affair of money. They came not as an enemy. The sol- 
 diers were billeted in the town ; and a gentlemanly young 
 officer was in the house in which I lodged. With him I soon 
 became acquainted. He loved poetry, and we talked on va- 
 rious subjects. Nor did he take any exception to my being an 
 Englishman. At this moment the war was flagging. 
 
 Of those to whom I was introduced, there is one of whom ifc 
 is necessary that I should write a few words. This was Sophia 
 de la Roche, a sentimental novelist, and in her youth a friend 
 of Wieland, under whose auspices she became known as an 
 authoress. Her daughter married Brentano, a wealthy mer- 
 chant, who died young ; and among her grandchildren were 
 several with whom I had much to do during my residence in 
 Germany. She herself was never tired of talking of Eng- 
 land, of which she was a passionate admirer. An amusing 
 account of her is given in Madame d'Arblay's Memoirs.* In 
 extravagant language she poured out to me her love of this 
 country, declaring that on her death-bed she should thank 
 God for her journey hither, and expressing the wish that she 
 could offer up her soul to God in Richmond vale ! 
 
 My jom^nal mentions a circumstance worth recording in 
 connection with the drama in the wealthy city of Frankfort. 
 I saw the play of " Hamlet " performed by actors of repute ; 
 but the catastrophe was changed. As Hamlet is about to 
 drink the poison the Queen's illness is perceived, — his hand 
 is stayed, — he rushes on the King and slays him, — he is at- 
 tacked, — thunder is heard, — the Queen confesses, — he for- 
 gives Laertes, — and all 's well that ends well. This I have 
 told to Germans, who have wished to deny the fact. 
 
 In July I wrote to my brother : " My last letter told you 
 that I had ceased to be a traveller. The effect produced on 
 the mind by the knowledge that you are but the inhabitant 
 of a day is "really astonishing. It quickens the observation 
 and animates the spirits exceedingly. While I was on my 
 journey nothing escaped me. It was a second childhood. I 
 was once more gay, impetuous, inquisitive, and adventurous ; 
 but as soon as I had fixed myself I became the same dull, 
 phlegmatic, and sometimes hyppish soul, which I was often in 
 
 * Diary and Letters of Madame d'Arblay. September, 1786. Vol. III. p. 
 136. 
 
1800.] GERMANY. 49 
 
 my lodgings in London. I am now so domesticated, so recon- 
 ciled to the slight varieties of manners, that nothing but the 
 language reminds me I am out of Old England." 
 
 In September I give this account of my life at Frank- 
 fort : — 
 
 " I breakfast at half past seven, and dme at twelve ; then 
 I go to a reading society, where I meet with a profusion of 
 German magazines (which are something between the English 
 magazines and periodical essayists), the Moniteur and French 
 journals, and the English Chronicle. This is an agreeable 
 addition to what my sister properly calls 'my comforts,' and 
 is my after-dinner dessert. Three times a week I go to a 
 respectable old gentleman who corrects my translations into 
 German, and from him i try to get an idea of German litera- 
 ture. It is, however, too soon to talk about it. I take soli- 
 tary walks about the town, which are pleasant, and generally 
 on the Sunday accompany some friends to one of the neigh- 
 boring villages, where we drink coffee or wine. This is the 
 universal custom, and I do not dislike it. These little parties 
 are not expensive. The company is very mixed, and there is 
 often music and dancing, — but the dancmg is unlike any- 
 thing you ever saw. You must have heard of it under the 
 name of waltzing, — that is, rolling or turning, though the 
 rolling is not horizontal but perpendicular. Yet Werter, after 
 describing his first waltz with Charlotte, says, — and I say so 
 too, — * I felt that if I were married, my wife should waltz (or 
 roll) with no one but myself Judge, — the man places the 
 palms of his hands gently against the sides of his partner, not 
 far from the arm-pits. His partner does the same, and in 
 stantly with as much velocity as possible they trn-n round and 
 at the same time gradually glide round the room. Now, as 
 Sir Isaac Newton borrowed his notion of attraction from an 
 apple falling, why might not Copernicus, who was a German,* 
 conceive his theory of the twofold motion of the earth from a 
 waltz, where both parties with great rapidity themselves turn 
 round and yet make the circuit of the room 1 " 
 
 It was my habit to make occasional excursions when I found 
 a suitable companion. On one of these occasions, when Mrs. 
 Aldebert was following her husband to England, I accompanied 
 her to the gates <5f Castel, a suburb of Mainz, and was left 
 without a passport. 
 
 At the inn at Hochheim I found three French officers. T 
 ^ Copernicus was a Pole. 
 
 VOL. I, 3 I> 
 
50 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 was startled, but as there was an armistice (it was the 16th 
 of August) I thought frankness the safest policy. I joined 
 them at the dinner-table. "A hot day, sir." — "Yes, sir." 
 (N. B. The French, like the Quakers, do not like to be called 
 " Citizen " but by a citizen, though, unlike the brethren, they 
 preserve the old forms of civility, and use " Sir " as much as 
 formerly to strangers.) I immediately told of my ride from 
 Frankfort, of my friends who were at Mainz, and of my inca- 
 pacity to follow them. "It is mortifying," said I, " to see a 
 fine town and rich country shut against one." — "Yes, to be 
 sure ; but it is not difficult to get a pass. You are a Ger- 
 man *? " — " No." — " Pray what countryman are you, then 1 " 
 — "Can I answer wdth safety*? If, now, I should be an 
 unlucky enemy by birth, are you bound officially to arrest 
 me *? " — "0 no ! " said they, and laughed ; and I found 
 that the Englishman was very welcome. So I stayed several 
 hours with them, and debated on politics. I found in these 
 and several other officers more respect than I should have ex- 
 pected for Mr. Pitt, who individually is fancied to be all in all 
 in the Cabinet ; they had a warm zeal for France as France, 
 without much care about its immediate government. 
 
 This spirit of patriotism unquestionably saved the nation. 
 Could Mr. Burke have persuaded the people of France that 
 " France was out of itself," the affiiir would have been over. 
 And the Revolution owed its success to the early creation of a 
 power which the people looked up to as its head. The first 
 Assembly, by calling itself the National^ gained the nation by 
 the word. 
 
 In the progress of familiarity I begged the officers to tell me 
 how I stood as to personal safety. They said unquestionably 
 liable to be arrested every moment, but not in any great 
 danger ; there were parties on the scout to pick up deserters 
 and examine travellers. Being on foot I should likely enough 
 be considered a native, but if questioned, as I had no passport, 
 I should certainly be taken before the Commandant at Mainz, 
 and they did not advise my going farther. 
 
 I did not, however, take alarm, and went on to the little 
 town of Biebrich, the residence of the Prince of Nassau. Here 
 I w^as very civilly treated at the only inn in the place. Next 
 day I made a circuitous walk back, taking in my way Wies- 
 baden, a small neat dull curious old German town, famous 
 only for its hot spring. It is noteworthy that this has become 
 f)ue of the most fashionable watering-places in Germany, much 
 
1800.] ^^^^^ GERMANY. ^^^^^ 51 
 
 frequented by English guests, with elegant gambling-houses 
 which have been a source of great wealth to the Prince. 
 
 The following letters will give some idea of the condition of 
 England at the close of the eighteenth century : — 
 
 ) 
 T. K. TO H. C, R. 
 
 Bury, December 18, 1800. 
 I cannot forbear speaking a word or two on the situation of 
 our own country. You cannot be aware, I think, to the 
 extent in which it exists, of the distress of all orders of people 
 amongst us on account of the high price of provisions. The 
 poor-rates have risen to an unexampled height, — they have 
 nearly doubled since you left England. The present rate at 
 Bury for the quarter is seven shillings in the pound, upon an 
 assessment of two thirds of the rental, — in short, as much is 
 paid to the poor as to the landlord. At the commencement 
 of the war the rate with us was not more than 1 5. 9 J. or 2 s. in 
 the pound. The burden which the circumstances have laid 
 upon the people will, I imagine, be scarcely credited in Ger- 
 many, and yet the situation of Bury is much less lamentable 
 than that of many other towns in the kingdom. The alarm 
 respecting a scarcity is so great that Parliament is now assem- 
 bled by special proclamation to take into consideration the 
 best means of relieving the nation in the present dearth. 
 High bounties are accordingly offered to encourage the impor- 
 tation of grain, and various plans of economy are recommended 
 to diminish the consumption of bread. The causes of the dis- 
 tressed state of the country are a subject of controversy both 
 within and out of Parliament. The Administration are, of 
 course, very strenuous in maintaining that the war has no 
 share in it, while the Opposition as loudly attempt to prove it 
 is the principal cause. The seasons have unquestionably been 
 very unfavorable. But besides these palpable reasons an idea 
 has been set afloat, and very eagerly caught at by vast num- 
 bers of people, that the scarcity is to be chiefly attributed to 
 monopoly. As a disciple of Adam Smith, you will probably 
 recollect his sentiments on the subject. He compares the 
 dread of monopoly, when a free trade is allowed in so bulky a 
 commodity as corn, to the terror of witchcraft. This opinion, 
 it is imderstood, has been adopted by our leading statesmen, 
 both on the Ministerial and Opposition side. And so much 
 
52 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 has this opinion prevailed till of late, that I understand the 
 old statute laws relating to forestalling, regrating, (fee., were 
 some few years since repealed. The common law, however, 
 still remaining in force, a prosecution grounded upon it was a 
 few months since commenced against Waddington^ a great hop- 
 merchant, for monopoly, and another against a contractor for 
 regrating. On one of their trials Lord Kenyon combated the 
 doctrine of Adam Smith ; and on the defendant being con- 
 victed, warmly applauded the jury for their verdict, and said 
 the country was much indebted to them. He was followed in 
 this opinion by the greater part of the judges, who, on the en- 
 suing circuit, declaimed against those hard-hearted persons 
 who made a prey of their fellow-creatures by withholding from 
 them the necessaries of life, and strongly in-ged the magistrates 
 to be vigilant to prevent the markets being forestalled. In 
 consequence of this recommendation associations were formed 
 in almost every county to carry it into effect. 
 
 Owing to these proceedings a violent clamor was excited 
 against corn-dealers and farmers, which being joined in by the 
 mob, artificial scarcity became the cry. Farmers were threat- 
 ened, and their barns and ricks in many places were set on 
 fire ; this has been particularly the case in the neighborhood 
 of Booking, where several wilful conflagrations have taken 
 
 place 
 
 January 27, 1801. 
 
 .... The times continue excessively hard with us, — indeed 
 the cloud of evil seems to threaten more and more every day. 
 Corn rises every market-day, and indeed alarm is spreading in 
 all directions, and not least among the friends of the adminis- 
 tration. I wish not to dwell upon political topics, but distress 
 has brought them home to everybody's bosom, and they now 
 produce all the interest of domestic incidents. With the 
 Funds falling, and trade very precarious, Mary and I some- 
 times talk of emigration, — but where to go is the question. 
 France is the only country which to my mind presents any 
 temptation. The language, however, is an insuperable* objec- 
 tion. Buonaparte seems as if he would make the assumed title 
 of great nation a valid^ claim, and I fear it is as clear that the 
 sun of England's glory is set. Indeed I am become quite an 
 alarmist, which I believe is equally the case with the demo- 
 crat and the aristocrat. Such is the state of the country in the 
 prime article of life, flour, that the millers are prohibited 
 under very heavy penalties from making any but coarse flour, 
 
ISOI.] GEKMANY. 53 
 
 and instead of any restraint being laid upon them against mix- 
 ing of grains, encouragement is given them to do it. Speaking 
 on the state of the country the other day to Garnham, he ex- 
 claimed, "A very pretty state we are reduced to, — our pockets 
 filled with paper and our bellies filled with chicken's meat 1 " 
 
 March 9, 1801. 
 
 .... If you have noticed in the papers you are no doubt in- 
 terested in the circumstances of Home Tooke having obtained 
 a seat in the House of Commons as representative of the fa- 
 mous borough of Old Sarum. This he efi'ected through the 
 patronage of the eccentric Lord Camelford, A very interest- 
 ing debate is expected to-morrow on a motion of Lord Temple 
 to inquire into the eligibility of a priest to a seat in Parlia- 
 ment. Lord Camelford, it is said, told Lord Grenville that if 
 the black coat were rejected he would send a black man, re- 
 ferring to a negro servant of his, born in England, whom he 
 would qualify to take a seat. 
 
 . . . .When we were in London Mary and I had lodgings in 
 Newgate Street. The theatre was the only amusement which 
 interested me. We were, of course, desirous of seeing the 
 present nine days^ wonder, Mr. Cooke. We were so lucky as 
 to see him in Richard, his favorite character. Nature has as- 
 sisted him greatly in the performance of this part, — his fea- 
 tures being strongly marked and his voice harsh. I felt at the 
 time that he personated the ferocious tyrant better than 
 Kemble could have done. There is besides a sort of humor 
 in his manner of acting which appeared very appropriate, and 
 which I think Kemble could not have given ; and I think it 
 likely the latter would be surpassed in Shylock. Cooke's pow- 
 ers of expression are strong and coarse. I am persuaded that 
 in dignified and refined character, — in the philosophical hero, 
 - — he would fall infinitely short of Kemble. He had the 
 effrontery to play the Stranger, but, if I mistake not, he ap- 
 peared in it but once 
 
 Early in 1801 I became acquainted with a very interesting 
 and remarkable person, — Baron Hohenfels, the Dom-dechant 
 von Speyer. He had a somewhat quixotic figure, — tall and 
 gaunt, with marked features. Though careless about his dress, 
 he had a distinguished gait. He was an elderly man who ha(J 
 been for many years chancellor of the Elector of Treves, an(i 
 as such, had he continued in office, would have been the Elec- 
 
54 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 tor's successor. He was also, as he used to tell me, a bishop 
 in partihus. But he was a very liberal and philosophic 
 churchman, and preferred a life of literary leisure. He had 
 been in England, to which he was warmly attached, and had 
 a strong liking for Austria. Everything French and Prussian 
 he hated in an equal degree. To the Austrian state and the 
 Eomish Church he was attached politically. He was living 
 an idle life, and in order therefore to gratify as well his indo- 
 lence as his taste for everything English, — he loved our 
 poets not less than our politicians, — he was glad to have even 
 my acquaintance. We frequently walked together, and he 
 taught me much by the questions he was in the habit of put- 
 ting to me. On one occasion he was very particular in inquir- 
 ing what the Unitarians believed. What did Priestley be- 
 lieve'? On my mentioning some orthodox doctrines rejected, 
 he asked '' Did Priestley believe the resurrection V — " Yes." 
 On this, with a very significant expression, he said : " This re- 
 minds me of an anecdote of Ninon de I'Enclos. Being asked 
 one day by a Parisian lady, whether she believed that St. Denys 
 walked all the way to Paris with his head under his arm, 
 ' Pourquoi pas. Mademoiselle ] ' Ninon said ; ' ce n'est que le 
 premier pas qui coute.' " 
 
 The Baron was more fond of asking than of answering ques- 
 tions ; but when I pressed him, he did not shrink from a reply 
 which, without compromising himself, seemed to me intelligi- 
 ble. I had before drawn from him the remark that Christianity 
 is a great fact, — that the fact being admitted it allowed neither 
 of criticism nor of argument ; and now in reference to the claims 
 of Roman Catholicism, I asked whether the evidence of the 
 later miracles was as strong as that of the earlier. His answer 
 was again in the form of an anecdote : ''In the time of Pope 
 
 there were some saints w^ho were called the new saints. 
 
 On one occasion his Holiness exclaimed, 'These new saints 
 make me doubt the old.' You will excuse my not giving a 
 more direct reply." I ought to add that some years afterwards, 
 when the Baron died, he left all his property to the Boman 
 Catholic church at Frankfort. 
 
 I had not known this interesting man many days before he 
 said he would introduce me to two young ladies " qui petil- 
 laient cV esprit ^ These were Charlotte and Paulina Serviere. 
 They were persons of small fortune and carried on a little 
 business, but lived on terms of intimacy with one of the most 
 distinguished families in Frankfort, — that of Brentano. Char- 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 55 
 
 lotte Serviere was not handsome, but was attractive to me by 
 singular good sense and sweetness of disposition, though the 
 latter quality was generally assigned in a higher degree to the 
 younger sister, Paulina, who was a joyous, kind creature, 
 naive, sportive, voluble, — liked by every one. In their house 
 I became intimate, and there I soon saw the ladies of the 
 Brentano family, — to whom I was introduced on the very 
 same day by Mad. de la Eoche. By them also I was received 
 as a friend. Mad. Brentano, a beautiful Viennese, the eldest 
 daughter Kunigunda, — afterwards the wife of Savigny, the 
 great Prussian lawyer and statesman, — were my present com- 
 panions. They proposed that I should read English to them, 
 and that they should initiate me into German poetry, in other 
 words into Goethe, with whom they were personally acquainted, 
 and of whom they were all devoted worshippers. During the 
 first four months of 1801 I made considerable progress in the 
 study of Goethe, and imbibed a taste for German poetry and 
 literature, which I have always retained. 
 
 H. C. K. TO T. R. 
 
 Goethe is the idol of the German literary public. The 
 critics of the new school assert that since the existence of 
 letters there have been only four of those called geniuses, on 
 whom Nature and Art seem to have showered down aU their 
 gifts to form that perfection of intellect, — a Poet. Virgil, 
 Milton, Wieland, Klopstock, Ariosto, Ossian, Tasso, &c., &c., 
 are singers of various and great excellence, but the sacred 
 poetic fire has been possessed in its perfection only by Homer, 
 Cervantes, Shakespeare, and Goethe. Nay, some of this new 
 school have even asserted that the three great " tendencies " 
 of the late century are the French Revolution, the Fichtian 
 Philosophy and " Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahre." 
 
 This valuable addition to my acquaintance had been made 
 only a few days, when it was increased by that of the brother, 
 Clemens Brentano, — then known only by irregular ballads 
 and songs inserted in a very irregular novel, but a poet in 
 character, as that term is generally understood, and a man of 
 genius, though not an artist ; and after many years the author 
 of fairy tales which brought him eclat. He was on terms of 
 intimacy with the Schlegels, Tieck, and others of the romantic 
 school ; but on account of peculiarities of temperament wa^ 
 
56 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY ORABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 rather difficult to get on with. As I shall have little to say 
 of him hereafter, I may add that he married a poetess named 
 Sophie Mereau, who however died after a short time. Late in 
 life he took a religious turn, and published a strange book, 
 professedly relating from the lips of a diseased nun her visions 
 of the sufferings of Christ ; but the Bishop of Ratisbon, Seiler, 
 would not allow the work to be printed without being accom- 
 panied by the declaration that the visions were given as the 
 pious contemplations of a good woman, and not as preternat- 
 ural revelations. 
 
 Personally I had more to do with a younger brother, whose 
 education was unfinished, and who, learning that I was un- 
 settled, proposed that I should accompany him on foot into 
 Saxony, where I could go on with my study, while he com- 
 pleted his. In my entirely isolated state an offer much less 
 agreeable than this would have been acceptable. I should 
 visit a country which I longed to see. Several months how- 
 ever elapsed before our plan was carried into effect. In the 
 mean while I pursued my studies with something like system ; 
 devoting myself steadily to Gei-man poetry and philosophy. 
 All my vacant time was spent either with the Servieres or the 
 Brentanos. The manners of this little society were very free 
 and easy ; and my character as an Englishman contributed to 
 my being treated as a pet. 
 
 Before my departure I made a short join-ney with Herr 
 Mylius and his sister Mad. Kohl to Wetzlar, — a town of some 
 importance because, under the old German constitution, it was 
 the seat of a court of appeal from courts held in all the small 
 states of Germany ; in other respects an insignificant place. 
 The noblesse of this old-fashioned ^*free city" were the big- 
 wigs, the lawyers. Our journey lay through a pleasing coun- 
 try, and this three days' excursion made me acquainted with 
 the simple manners of a people who seemed to belong to a 
 former age. The tribunal has been abolished, and the town 
 no doubt lost its privileges as a free city. 
 
 My tour with Christian Brentano began on the 14th of June. 
 Our first object was to see his brother Clemens, who was then 
 residing at Gottingen. I will not stop to give particulars of any 
 of the places through which we passed. On our arrival I was 
 received with kindness, and introduced to Clemens Brentano's 
 friends. Of these the principal was a young man of great 
 promise, — a poet and scholar. He lectured on poetry, and 
 strengthened the interest I already felt in German philosophy 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 57 
 
 and literature. His name was Winckelmann. He died a few 
 years later, still a young man. It was he who first distinctly 
 taught me that the new German philosophy — in connection 
 with which Fichte was the most celebrated living teacher, and 
 Schelling was rising into fame — was idealism. Winckelmann 
 urged me to study Fichte's " Wissenschaftslehre," which he 
 said was in its elements the philosophy of Plato, Spinoza, and 
 Berkeley. 
 
 These two days, like the preceding weeks, served as a hot- 
 bed to me. In my letter to my brother, I noticed what then 
 was a novelty to me : '^ I must not forget a curious trait of 
 the new school. They are all poetico-metaphysical religionists. 
 Clemens Brentano declared religion to be ^ philosophy taught 
 through mystery.' And the heading of one of Winckelmann's 
 lectures on poetry was, * the Virgin Mary as the ideal of female 
 beauty and perfection.' " 
 
 Christian Brentano and myself next proceeded to visit the 
 celebrated mine mountains of the Harz, belonging to Hanover ; 
 and some of our Gottingen friends accompanied us a day on 
 the road. We stayed successively at Osterode and St. An- 
 dreas berg. At this place I gratified my curiosity by descend- 
 ing a mine, learning thereby that it is a fatiguing and partic- 
 ularly uninstructive and uninteresting spectacle. Generally 
 speaking I know no sight which so ill repays the labor. Two 
 things have fixed themselves on my mind : first, a number of 
 men in narrow slanting passages knocking off" bits of soil 
 mixed with metal ; and, secondly, the motion of boxes up and 
 down perpetually. I could hardly be angry with the vulgar 
 inscription of an English " my lord " in the album : " De- 
 scended this d d old hole." 
 
 We spent a night on the Brocken or Blocksberg, and I 
 ought not to forget when mentioning this famous mountain 
 that it has been from time immemorial the seat of witch- 
 craft ; the witches of the Blocksberg tiU the present age being 
 the most illustrious in Germany. The historians assign a 
 reasonable cause. The region of the Harz was the very last con- 
 verted to Christianity, and the heathen religious rites w^ere for 
 the last time performed on the Blocksberg. When the coun- 
 try was at last subdued, troops were stationed in the principal 
 avenues up the mountain to prevent the natives exercising 
 unlawful and ungodly ceremonies. Some of the more zealous, 
 however, disguised themselves in various frightful forms, came 
 at midnight, and fi:ightened away the superstitious soldiery. 
 3* 
 
58 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 Since that time the Brocken has been in ballads and old 
 stories the seat of ^* monsters, hydras, and chimeras dire." 
 
 Passing over other local matters which afforded me much 
 pleasure, I proceed to that part of my Diary in which I say : 
 We had this day entered the Saxony which Goethe in his 
 ** Wilhelm Meister" so significantly terms den gehildeten aher 
 audi hildlosen Theil von Deutschland, We lose the play of 
 words when we render this " the cultivated but imageless part 
 of Germany." ^ 
 
 While I was staying at Frankfort I seldom ventured to 
 speak German when I was with those who spoke either Eng- 
 lish or French ; but during this journey I made as it were a 
 spring, and found that I was very well able to make myself 
 understood in the language of the country. 
 
 The place at which Christian Brentano was studying, and 
 at which I was for a time to reside, was Grimma, a small town 
 not very far from Leipzig and on the Mulde, — a very agree- 
 able residence for a student. It had a large gymnasium or 
 Prince's school, one of the feeders of the Leipzig University. 
 The mathematical teacher at this school was one Topfer, who 
 received Brentano into his house. The family lived in a very 
 plain way, and I was kindly received by them. 
 
 The chief person in the town was a Mr. Riese, a large 
 manufacturer. I had seen him at Frankfort. He was very 
 attentive to me, and offered me the use of his house ; but I 
 thought lodgings would for the present be preferable. My 
 prospect was a satisfactory one. I had access to Mr. Riese's 
 very respectable library ; such society as the town afforded 
 was open to me, and I should have Brentano as a frequent 
 companion in my walks, f 
 
 * Goethe's meaning is not easily understood without the context. The 
 whole sentence is: '' Er kam in dengebildeten, aber auch bildlosen Theil von 
 Deutschland, wo es zur Verehrung des Guten und Schonen zwar nicht an 
 Wahrheit, aber oft an Geist gebricht." Carlyle has translated this as follows: 
 *' He came into the polished but also barren part of Germany, where, in wor- 
 shipping the good and the beautiful there is indeed no want of truth, but 
 frequently a grievous want of spirit." Bildlos is not much used in modern 
 literature, in fact Grimm knows only this instance from Goethe besides those 
 which he gives from writers of the 16th and l7th centuries. The meaning 
 according to him is imagine carens. Gebildet corresponds with Wahrheit, 
 ?nd bildlos with want of Geist. If so, Goethe meant to say that the Saxons 
 were indeed apt to acquire knowledge from others, but were wanting in origi- 
 nal productiveness. 
 
 t Our tour seems to be insignificant on the map, but, with all our devia- 
 tions, was not less than sixty German miles, at least 300 English miles. Our 
 expenses together nine guineas; deducting therefore what I should have paid 
 at Frankfort, my journey has cost me only two and a half guineas. And 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 59 
 
 Of the two months passed at Grimma at this time, and of 
 the short period I spent there later in the year, when I took 
 up my quarters at the house of Mr. Riese, I will say no more 
 than that I was very happy, and began to read Kant, at the 
 recommendation of Topfer, who was a zealous Kantianer. I 
 looked also into the VvTitings of Jacobi. 
 
 In a short tour which I made by myself in order to test my 
 power of finding interest in solitary travel, I availed myself 
 of the opportunity which offered itself of visiting a Moravian 
 establishment at Ebersdorf ; and I had a great deal of pleas- 
 ure, — the pleasure of sympathizing with a very benevolent 
 and truly Christian society. The day on which I was there 
 was Sunday, and I heard three sermons in one day with less 
 than usual ennui, and was introduced to the well-bred, 
 accomplished presidentess, Fraulein Gerstendorf Without at- 
 tempting to give a detailed account of the constitution of these 
 Moravian institutions, I may describe them as a kind of Prot- 
 estant monasteries. They are distinguished from those of the 
 Roman Catholics by these two striking features : First, there 
 is no compulsion to stay, either openly enforced by the law, 
 or through a vow or secret understanding binding on the con- 
 science. Any one may leave when he pleases. Secondly, 
 there are no idlers, — all are workers. The immarried live 
 together, and sleep in two huge apartments. Going through 
 these two vast dormitories I was struck by their perfect clean- 
 liness and sweetness. The married live in apartments by 
 themselves. They have private property, and have few or 
 many comforts according to their respective means. The ser- 
 mons I heard were evangelical, perhaps Calvinistic ; but in 
 one respect contrasted very advantageously with our English 
 orthodoxy. Little importance seemed to be attached to doc- 
 trine. I heard nothing about belief, but a great deal about 
 love. They had such set phrases as " the love of the Lord," 
 " the faith of the heart." I would add that this is in perfect 
 correspondence w4th Goethe's confessions of a beautiful soul 
 in " Wilhelm Meister " ; and, if the bringing together of things 
 so unlike may be permitted, my own dear mother's written 
 Experience when she was received into the Wattisfield church, 
 in which there is nothing about theological opinions, but 
 
 when it is considered that we included in our tour one of the most fashionable 
 and famous resident towns, and one of the celebrated districts of Germany, it 
 must be allowed that travelling is for me a cheap pleasure. Thanks to my 
 ^ood health and sound limbs, I hope to see a great part of Germany and 
 France at a trifling expense. — H. C. R.'s Journal. 
 
60 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5 
 
 much about love, a consciousness of guilt, &c. It occurred to 
 me that this institution seemed to come nearer to an apostolic 
 body than any I had ever seen, and that the Gospel age 
 seems to have had no presentiment of the legal and political 
 establishment of Christianity, but to have contemplated 
 rather a multiplication of brotherhoods resembling these of 
 the Herrnhuter. The founders named their first establish- 
 ment in Moravia Herrnhut, i. e. the Lord's heed or guard.* 
 
 The chmrchyard, to which the kind-hearted attendant who 
 showed me about the place took me, was very prettily orna- 
 mented with shrubs and flowers, and I was much struck by 
 the unfeigned joy with which he talked of death, as, with a 
 childlike simplicity and almost gayety, he jumped on the grave 
 in which the remains of his wife had been recently laid. 
 Fraulein Gerstendorf was a woman of ability, exemplifying 
 the compatibility of practical wisdom with a devout spirit. 
 
 At Schneeberg I fell in with Anton Wall's '^ Amatonda," a 
 fairy tale which much delighted me.f 
 
 At Chemnitz I met with a Welshman, whose history in- 
 terested me. He w^as by trade a w^atchmaker, living at Holy- 
 well, where he had great difficulty in supporting his wife and 
 three children ; but he was a mechanic and understood the 
 
 steam-engine. Graf — was then travelling for the Elector 
 
 of Saxony, and made the man an offer of a fair stipend if he 
 would leave his country. " I know," said he, " that if I were 
 to attempt to go back to England, I should be hanged ; but I 
 do not want to go. I am at the head of a manufactory here, 
 and my employer gives me £ 200 per annum, besides perqui- 
 sites. My wife and children are here. Besides, the Elector 
 has given me a bond for £ 100 per annum during my life. 
 The only condition is that I remain in the country. I need do 
 nothing ; I may spend my time in a public-house if I like ; 
 I should still be entitled to my hundred a year." He told me 
 of several persons who were paid for living in the country, 
 with a perfect freedom of action. 
 
 ■ On the day on which I expected to reach Grimma an agree- 
 able incident detained me at Colditz. It was late in the 
 evening when I fell in with a parish clergyman, who having 
 found that I was what is here called an English Gelehrter, 
 and bound for Grimma, invited me to take a bed at his par- 
 
 * The Colony settled at the foot of the Hutberg, or pasture hill. The name 
 has a double meaning, — Hut signifying " guard " as well as " a place where 
 flocks are guarded." 
 
 t This tale was afterwards translated by Mr. Robinson. 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 61 
 
 sonage. He had a name singularly in contrast with his 
 character, — Hildebrand ; for he was very liberal in his opin- 
 ions, and very anti-church in his tastes. We had many hours' 
 talk' on subjects equally interesting to him and to me. He gave 
 me an account of the state of rehgious opinion among the 
 Saxon, i. e. Lutheran clergy. He professed himself to be a 
 believer in miracles, but evidently had no unfriendly feeling 
 towards the free-thinkers, whom he called NatiiralUten, but 
 who are now better known under the name of Rationalists. 
 He declared that their ablest men were Socinians, if not 
 Naturalists. On my saying that Michaelis's " Introduction to 
 the New Testament " had been translated into English, he 
 said : '' That work is already forgotten here ; we have a more 
 learned commentary in the work of Paulus." On my inquir- 
 ing whether the clergy had no tests, "0 yes," he rephed, 
 " we affirm our belief in the symbolical books ; but we have 
 a very convenient saving-clause ' as far as they are not con- 
 tradictory to the word of God.' The fact is, we pay very lit- 
 tle attention to the old orthodox doctrines, but dare not 
 preach against them. We say nothing about them." This I 
 believe to be true. I recollect relating to my host the retort 
 which Wilkes is said to have made to a Roman Catholic, who 
 had asked, " Where was your religion before Luther 1 " The 
 answer was, " Where were your hands before you washed 
 them ] " Hildebrand said that that very retort is to be found 
 in one of the pamphlets published in Germany at the time 
 of the Reformation. 
 
 During my tour I met with a young Saxon nobleman, Herr 
 von Carlo witz, a pupil of the Fiirsten-Schule, who invited me 
 to accompany him to his mother's house. This plan left me 
 so little time at Grimma that I was barely able to write a few 
 letters and show myself to my friends. 
 
 Falkenstein, the seat of young Carlowitz's mother, was only 
 a walk of about four leagues. As we were not expected, we 
 found no one but the servants in the house. In the evening, 
 however, came my lady, with friends, who were staying with 
 her, and I had a specimen of the proverbial stiffness of the 
 Saxon nobility. She was a stately dame, and had but a short 
 time back been beautiful ; she was rich, and was addressed 
 with formal respect by all about her. At night on taking 
 leave every one kissed her hand, excepting myself; and I 
 omitted the ceremony through nay ignorance, and gave of 
 fence. At supper grace was said in verse. 
 
62 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 My intention was to proceed to Dresden and Prague, and I 
 reached the former place after two more nights on the way. 
 I was dehghted with the coup (Toeil from the bridge, includ- 
 ing noble edifices, and the views up and down the river. 
 There was also a stillness which soothed me. I will copy a 
 remark or two I made at the time respecting the impression 
 made on me by Dresden : " One sees more of elegance and 
 the amusing formality of innocent aristocracy, than of the 
 luxury of upstart wealth. One is neither oppressed by great' 
 ness, nor confounded by bustle. Many an Excellency riden 
 in a carriage which in London would be thought a shabb}? 
 hackney-coach ; and the distinctions of rank are announced 
 by formal appendages, — sword, big wig, &c., not costly attire. 
 
 " The most famous of the sights of Dresden is the Grune 
 Gewolbe, or Green Vaults, the most illustrious warehouse of 
 jewelry and other toys in the world. Augustus, the lavish 
 and the strong king of Poland, was the founder of this col- 
 lection, consisting of all sorts of things wrought in ivory and 
 gold, vessels of every form. I saw these in company with a 
 French lady and her husband. Her raptures rose to some- 
 thing like hysterics. 
 
 ^' The picture gallery was the first of great excellence I had 
 ever seen. It contains the picture, which now that I have 
 seen all that Rome and Florence, Naples, Venice, and Paris 
 have to exhibit, I still look back upon as the one which has 
 afforded me the highest delight, — the Madonna di San Sisto, 
 or Vierge aux Anges. When I first saw it, I exclaimed unin- 
 tentionally, ' Looking at this, it is possible to believe the Im- 
 maculate Conception.' The Roman Catholic custode who was 
 present looked offended, with no reason. I possess a fine 
 copy of MUller's engraving. There are few pictures for 
 which I would exchange it."* 
 
 ''One other source of especial pleasure at Dresden was an 
 almost daily visit to the Catholic chapel, for church music 
 (though I am insensible to ordinary music) I can enjoy." 
 
 I did not omit to make an excursion, occupying a day, to 
 Pillnitz, which has a castle of doubtful or disputed celebrity ; 
 
 * This copy of Miiller's engraving was given by Mr. Robinson's will to 
 E. W. Field. ' 
 
 This picture, unlike all Raphael's other altar-pieces, is painted on canvas, 
 which gave rise to an opinion, strongly contested by Professor Hiibner, Keeper 
 of the Gallery at Dresden, that it was originally intended to serve as a Pro- 
 cessional Banner. The picture was purchased by Augustus, King of Poland 
 and Elector of Saxon v from the monks of the church of San Sisto, at Pia' 
 cenza, in 1754, for about £ 10,000. — G. S. 
 
^ 
 
 leoi.^j GERMANY. 63 
 
 it being still a question whether the treaty which bears the 
 name of Pillnitz was ever entered into among the great powers 
 in 1792 to partition France. 
 
 At the distance of a few miles fi'om Dresden is a knot of 
 little valleys, known by the name of the Saxon Switzerland. 
 This district is about fifteen miles in length and two or three 
 broad, and it affords in miniature every variety of mountain 
 and valley scenery. The first place I came to, the little towTi 
 of Pirna, detained me by its attractions. I had parted from 
 my young companion, and was left here to myself in a country 
 so beautiful, and in an inn so comfortable, that I stayed four 
 days. One of the largest rocks in this neighborhood is the 
 insulated and famous Konigstein. It is said to have been 
 rendered impregnable. Certainly it has never been taken. 
 During the long French possession of Germany, Buonaparte 
 could never obtain possession of this fortress from the other- 
 wise obsequious King of Saxony, who retained it as a place of 
 deposit for his green- vault and other' treasures. It is too 
 small to hold a large garrison, and therefore might be spared 
 by Buonapai-te. Amidst the recesses of a mountain forest is 
 a vast mass of rocks, some eighty feet in height, with a natural 
 cavity or hollow called the Kuhstall (Cowstall), and which, 
 according to the legendary tales, was a place of refuge for the 
 Saxon peasants from the imperial troops during the Seven 
 Years' War. It might well be so now, for the brushwood and 
 stunted trees would render the passage of troops impossible. 
 This wild and desolate spot I crossed ; and when I found my- 
 self again in the beautiful valley of the Elbe, I was in Bo- 
 hemia. 
 
 The difference between a Roman Catholic country and that 
 I had hitherto been in was apparent at once in the salutation 
 of the peasantry. Every one who naet me muttered, '' Gelobt 
 sei Jesus Christus " (Praised be Jesus Christ). To which I 
 invariably answered, " In Ewigkeit " (To eternity). '' Amen" 
 was the rejoinder. Then the ordinary talk about weather or 
 inquiry about roads follow^ed. Had I not responded like a 
 good Christian, I should have had no other greeting. The 
 first night I slept at Teschen, in a small house w4th worthy 
 people, and my first ev^ening in Bohemia is worth recording. 
 I have often told the story. In a large kitchen lay a bedrid- 
 den old woman near the fire. She began questioning me : 
 ^' Are you a Christian T' — " Yes." — " A Cathohc Christian ] " 
 The landlord came up : " Don't trouble the gentleman with 
 
64 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 questions ; you know he is an Englishman, and cannot be such 
 a Christian as we are." — "I know only one sort of Christian," 
 muttered she. " Why, mother I don't you know the priest 
 says it is the duty of everybody to remain of the religion they 
 are born in ] " This looked like indifference at least, and I got 
 into talk with him. I asked him about the Hussites. " 0, 
 they are the most loyal and peaceable of all our people." — 
 "It did not use to be so." — "0 no ! they were always 
 breeding disturbances, but the Emperor Joseph put an end to 
 that. Their priests were very poor and lived on the peasants ; 
 one man gave them a breakfast, another a dinner, another a 
 bed ; and so they went from house to house, beggars and pau- 
 pers. When the emperor came to Prague to be crowned, 
 among the decrees which he issued the first day was one that 
 the Hussite priests should be allowed the same pay as the 
 lowest order of the Catholic clergy. And since then we have 
 never had a disturbance in the coimtry." I thought then, 
 and have often said, that had I ever been in the House of 
 Commons I would have related this as an instructive lesson 
 on the Irish priest question. 
 
 Next day I dined at Aussig. There I fell in with a travel- 
 ler who, finding I was going to the watering-place Teplitz, 
 recommended me to a private lodging at the house of an 
 honest shoemaker. In the afternoon I was there. 
 
 Teplitz is a small but beautiful watering-place, in which is a 
 chateau, occupied at the time by the Prince de Ligne, who is 
 known as the friend of Madame de Stael. In this ver}^ agree- 
 able little spot I took up my residence for six days. Here 
 I found a circulating library (prohibited in other Bohemian 
 towns), and in the beautiful country numberless walks. The 
 season for drinking the waters was over, so that I found my- 
 self quite in retirement ; but the residence of the Prince 
 afforded me an unexpected pleasure the day after my arrival. 
 I was told that there was an amateur theatre, at which the 
 Herrschaften, the noble inhabitants of the chateau, performed ; 
 and to which any one decently dressed might go, — the nobles 
 in the pit below, the citizens in the gallery above. I pre- 
 sented myself at the door of the pit. " Sind Sie adelig, mein 
 Hen'l" (Are you noble'?) said the doorkeeper. "I am Eng- 
 lish," I said, " and all English are noble." — " I know it, sir," 
 he replied, and opened the door to me. This I said, not 
 meaning a joke, for everywhere in Germany English travellers 
 are treated as if they were noble, even at the small courts, 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 65 
 
 where there is no ambassador. No inquiry is made a^ut 
 birth, title, or place. 
 
 At the theatre a French comedy was acted, as it seemed to 
 me with perfect good-breeding. The little I saw in this per- 
 formance of the Princess and the rest of the family was in 
 harmony with the character they possess as being among the 
 most amiable and respectable of the higher French noblesse. 
 
 I lived a week of great enjoyment, — a sort of hermit's life. 
 My breakfast consisted of grapes and cream, — and certainly 
 I never lived at so little cost. I soon formed an acquaintance 
 with a young man — a Herr von Schall — who, like myself, 
 seemed to have nothing to do. With him I spent my days in 
 walking. In the course of talk he used the expression " one 
 of my subjects " (Unterthan). " Unterthan '] " I exclaimed ; 
 " why, you are not a sovereign ? " — ^' Yes, I am," he said ; 
 and then he explained that he was a knight. I thought he 
 had been a Suabian knight, but my journal calls him a Sile- 
 sian. According^ to the now-abolished old German constitu- 
 tion these knights were sovereigns, though they might be very 
 poor. They had the power of appointing judges, in whom was 
 the prerogative of life and death, — a jurisdiction the knights 
 could not personally exercise. I did not stand in any awe of 
 my new companion, nor did he claim any deference on account 
 of his princely dignity. He w^as a light-hearted young man, as 
 may be seen by an anecdote he told me of himself. A few 
 weeks before I met him, he had the misfortune, on his way to 
 Teplitz, to be robbed of his purse. He was forced to take his 
 portmanteau on his back and bring it to Teplitz, selling a pair 
 of stockings on the road, in order to get food. Arrived here, 
 and not expecting a remittance for some time, he announced 
 himself as a painter, being an amateur artist. He waited on 
 Count Briihl with his papers and testimonials, and solicited 
 employment. The Count gave him a miniature to copy ; this 
 was finished in a day and a half, and three ducats paid for it. 
 He went home, dressed, and in the evening went to a ball, 
 where he met his employer the Count. Von Schall spent two 
 ducats that evening, — worked two days longer, and earned 
 four ducats more. He then received a remittance from home, 
 shut up his portfolio, told his story to everybody, the ladies 
 he danced with included, and figured away as one of the beaux 
 of the season. 
 
 When I left Teplitz and my worthy host and hostess. Yon 
 Schall accompanied me over a mountain till we came within 
 
 £ 
 
66 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 sight of Lobositz and Leitmeritz, when I entered the plains of 
 Bohemia. I slept the first night at Budin, a poor little town ; 
 but I met there with a sort of adventure which I have often 
 looked back upon with pleasure. 
 
 I was inquiring in the street for a circulating library, — an 
 idle inquiry, by the by, — when a very handsome young Jew 
 came up and offered me a book for the evening. He accom- 
 panied me to the inn, and was my very agreeable companion, 
 but would not suffer me to treat him. He had a fine manly 
 expression, and talked with gTeat freedom, which I encouraged 
 by speaking of Moses Mendelssohn and Lessing, whom he 
 naturally held in reverence. He seemed to have a taste for 
 free-thinking books ; and when I remarked that these books, 
 if they were successful against Christianity, must be still more 
 so against Judaism, he was embarrassed. He professed to hold 
 Jesus Christ in the highest respect, but would not allow that 
 he had ever claimed to be the Messiah. "Moses," he said, 
 " if his claim to inspiration be waived, must still be allowed to 
 be one of the greatest of men." On my asking whether the 
 odium frequently cast on the Jews operated as a temptation 
 to embrace Christianity, he replied : " You forget that we are 
 brought up to that, and that we^re trained to return contempt 
 with hatred. All those I love are Jews. Were I to go over 
 to your church, I should become an object of hatred and con- 
 tempt to all I love. My father and mother would die of 
 shame ; and, after all, by the respectable Christians converted 
 Jews are more despised than those who remain firm. Fortune 
 has made me what I am, and whatever difficulties my religion 
 may have I know of none better." He said he did not believe 
 there was anything miraculous in the Israelites' passage of the 
 Red Sea. This young man lent me the continuation of " Na- 
 than der Weise." The title of this continuation is " The 
 Monk of Lebanon," and its object to counteract the effect of 
 Lessing's work. 
 
 Next day eight hours' hard walking brought me to Prague, 
 — an imposing city, ancient and stately, containing 70,000 in- 
 habitants. I have seldom seen a spot so striking as the bridge 
 over the Moldau, with its thirty high statues. The view from 
 this bridge of the cathedral on the hill is exceedingly fine. 
 But, on the whole, I found little to detain me at Prague. 
 Contrasting its churches with those at Dresden, I wrote to 
 my brother : "The nine paintings in the Chapel at Dresden 
 delight the eye, — the hundreds at Prague only oppress the 
 
 I 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 67 
 
 senses, — the more so, as there is no classification or harmony 
 in their arrangement. Old paintings, curious perhaps for their 
 antiquity, are paired with flashy pieces glaring with varnish. 
 A colossal statue stands by the side of a rotten relic ; in one 
 place there was a complete skeleton, the skull covered with 
 satin, and the ribs adorned with crimson ribbon and tinsel. 
 
 ' One would not sure look frightful when one's dead.' 
 
 Still more offensive were a long row of rotten teeth. Not all 
 the objects, however, were of this class. At the high altar in 
 St. Nicolai Church, I saw four colossal statues, not less than 
 fourteen feet high. They impressed me solemnly, and I recol- 
 lected the opinion expressed by Wieland, that size w^as proba- 
 bly the great charm which rendered so illustrious the Jupiter 
 of Phidias." 
 
 On my way back to Pirna I was amused by the slyness of an 
 inscription on a newly built w^all. It was in verse, and its im- 
 port as follows : " This house is in the hand of God. In the 
 year 1793 was the wall raised ; and if God will turn my 
 heart to it, and my father-in-law will advance the needful, I 
 will cover it with tiles." 
 
 I found I had still unseen beauties to explore in the Saxon 
 Switzerland. Hohnstein I thought among the finest objects 
 of this very delightfid country. 
 
 On the last day of my tour, when I was at Hubertsburg, I 
 met a party of show-folk and pedlers, and was treated both by 
 them and the landlord as if I were one of them. A few 
 months before I had dined at the same inn, as a gentleman 
 visitor to the chateau. Then my dinner cost me \s.2d.\ 
 now I paid for my afternoon luncheon, supper, bed, and break- 
 fast. Is. 9d., — a difference more agreeable to my pocket than 
 flattering to my vanity. But travelling on foot, I found that 
 my journey, as a whole, cost me only a trifle more than I paid 
 for my ordinary board and lodging at Frankfort. 
 
 With respect to the society in this district — the cultivation 
 and manners of the higher classes — I have every reason to 
 speak favorably. As far as I myself am concerned, I never 
 before experienced from strangers so much civility ; and my 
 external appearance was certainly not inviting, for I went as 
 usual in black. My coat, which I brought with me from Eng- 
 land, had necessarily lost much of its original brightness ; and 
 it was rather eclipsed than set off by velvet pantaloons and 
 gaiters, which I wore out of convenience, though they attracted 
 
68 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 now and then a smile from the honest villagers. I met uni- 
 formly with civil treatment in the public-houses, where I was 
 always in high spirits, and by my gayety generally gained the 
 good- will of my host and his other guests. 
 
 T. R TO H. C. R 
 
 Bury, October 20, 1801. 
 
 .... The Peace is an event which has excited a tumult of 
 joy such as I never before saw equalled. The effect was the 
 stronger as the event was totally unexpected, — indeed, for two 
 or three days preceding, it was totally despaired of The 
 Funds were falling, and the expectation of an invasion was 
 very general. All parties are therefore willing to give the 
 Ministry great credit for the secrecy with which they con- 
 ducted the negotiation. The demonstrations of joy have risen 
 almost to madness. Illuminations have been general through- 
 out the kingdom, and in London and some other places have 
 been repeated several times. Last Friday we illuminated at 
 Bury. 
 
 The papers will inform you of the reception which was given 
 by the London populace to the French general who brought 
 over the ratification of the preliminaries. It is said that " Long 
 live Buonaparte ! " was repeatedly cried in the streets ; and 
 among the transparencies exhibited in London his portrait was 
 shown with this inscription : ^' The Saviour of the World.^^ 
 Indeed it is curious to observe the change of style in the gov- 
 ernment newspapers. The ^'Corsican adventurer," "the athe- 
 istical usurper," is now "the august hero," ''the restorer of 
 public order," (fee. &c. ; in fact, everything that is great and 
 good. It reminds one of the transformation in a pantomime, 
 where a devil is suddenly converted into an angel. The bless- 
 ings of peace begin already to be felt. An abundant harvest 
 promised a considerable reduction in the price of provisions, 
 but the fall in corn has been rapid beyond example. In the 
 course of about eight or ten weeks wheat has fallen in our 
 market from 9 2 5. to 305. the coomb, and it is expected to sink 
 lower 
 
 On my return to Grimma, at the beginning of November, I 
 became an inmate in the house of Mr. Riese ; and there I re- 
 mained during the winter. I spent my time pleasantly, partly 
 in reading, and partly with friends. The best society of the 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 69 
 
 place was freely open to me ; and at about this period I 
 became acquainted with a very remarkable person, of whom 
 there is an account in the '^ Conversations-Lexicon," and to 
 whom I became indebted for a great pleasure. His name was 
 Seume, the son of a poor woman who kept a public-house near 
 Leipzig. She meant to make her boy a parson, as he was 
 clever ; but he was wild, and after making some progress in his 
 studies, left his books and took up a musket. He served in 
 the American war as a private, and was afterwards a non-com- 
 missioned officer among the Hessians. He then went to the 
 West Indies, and at lengih entered the Russian service, — was 
 lieutenant under Suwarrow, and was present at the infamous 
 storming and sacking of Praga, near Warsaw. Meanwhile he 
 pursued his studies, and became occasionally a tutor to young 
 noblemen. For some years he corrected the press at Leipzig. 
 He also printed some volumes of poetry, and gave lessons in 
 Greek, English, &c. He knew almost all the European lan- 
 guages. His countenance was very striking. Herder remarked 
 to me that he had the physiognomy of a Greek philosopher. 
 With Seume I was to pay a visit to Weimar and Jena. At 
 Leipzig we were joined by Schnorr, whose son has since at- 
 tained great eminence as a painter. The father was, I believe, 
 the master of the government drawing-school at Weimar. We 
 left Grimma on November ITth, and on the 19th I visited the 
 most famous of the Flirsten-Schulen. The establishment had 
 L50 scholars. The only particular I thought worthy of notice 
 and imitation was a body of poor students called collahorateurs, 
 and who assist the more wealthv but less advanced students, 
 receiving for their trouble a salary of 200 dollars. 
 
 We aiTived late the same day at the Eagle Hotel, Weimar ; 
 and the two next days belong to the most interesting in all 
 my life. They were devoted to visits to the most eminent men 
 of their age and country. 
 
 Our first call was at the house of the aged Wieland. The 
 course of my late reading had not led me to form terrifying 
 ideas of his mental greatness, though as a litterateur he is one 
 of the first writers of his country. He is not less universally 
 read and admired in Germany than Voltaire was in France. 
 His works amount to more than fifty volumes, all written for 
 the many. He resembles the French wit in the lightness of 
 his philosophy, in the wantonness of his muse (though it is by 
 no means so gross), and in the exquisite felicity of his style. But 
 he surpasses Voltaire in learning, if not in philosophy ; for 
 
70 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 Wieland is no school-philosopher, — he belongs to the sensual 
 school of Locke. And his favorite opinions are those of the 
 common-sense, sceptical school. He is a sworn foe to the Kan- 
 tian metaphysics, and indeed to all others. In his writings, as 
 in his person and manners, he is a perfect gentleman. He re- 
 ceived us with the courteous dignity of a sage, who accepted 
 without hauteur the homage of his admirers. I have already 
 printed an account of this my first and subsequent interviews 
 with him in a note to Mrs. Austin's "- Characteristics of 
 Goethe." * I shall in substance repeat what I have there said. 
 He had already shrunk into the old man. His pale and deli- 
 cate countenance was plain, and had something of the satyr in 
 it. He wore a black skull-cap. The marble bust by Schadow, 
 which I have the good fortune to possess, is an exact resem- 
 blance of him. I ventured to refer to his philosophical writ- 
 ings, and especially to his '' Agathodamon," w^hich gives'but a 
 sad view of Christianity and its influence on mankind. In this 
 book he draws a parallel between Jesus Christ and ApoUonius 
 of Tyana, whom he considers as alike generous enthusiasts, 
 willing to make use of superstition in order to teach a benefi- 
 cent morality. I ventured to express my regret at the 
 mournful conclusions at which he had arrived. He admit- 
 ted that his hopes of any great improvement in mankind were 
 faint. 
 
 To refer to another subject, the best if not the only advan- 
 tage which in his judgment may be expected from the French 
 devolution is the promotion of the fine arts and the sciences ; 
 for he holds the French nation absolutely incapable of forming 
 a Republic. He vindicated the administration of Buonaparte, 
 and did not censure the restoration of the Roman Catholic 
 Church. What he said on this point is worth reporting : " We 
 Protestants allow ourselves a great deal of injustice and ha- 
 bitual falsehood towards the Catholics. We forget that Roman 
 Catholicism is, after all, real Christianity, and in my judgment 
 preferable to the motley things produced by the soi-disant 
 Reformation." 
 
 Speaking further of the Reformation, Wieland asserted that 
 it had been an evil and not a good ; it had retarded the progress 
 of philosophy for centuries. There were some wise men among 
 the Italians who, if they had been permitted, would have ef- 
 fected a salutary reform. Luther ruined everything by making 
 the people a party to what ought to have been left to the 
 
 ♦ Vol. II. p. 227. 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 71 
 
 scholars. Had he not come forward with his furious knock- 
 down attacks on the Church, and excited a succession of horri- 
 ble wars in Europe, liberty, science, and humanity w^ould have 
 slowly made their way. Melanchthon and Erasmus were on 
 the right road, but the violence of the age was triumphant. 
 It is needless to add that Wieland is a supporter of national 
 religion. 
 
 He spoke with great feeling of his wife, who had died a few 
 weeks before. '^ I help myself with illusions," he said; ^' he 
 whom I have once loved never dies to me. He is absent only 
 from my outward senses ; and that to be sure is painful. 
 My wife was my good angel for thirty-five years. I am no 
 longer young, — the recollection of her will never be weak- 
 ened." He spoke in a faint half-whisper, as from the bottom 
 of his throat. 
 
 My next call was on Bottiger, — a very laborious boot-maker 
 and honest fagging scholar, noted for his courtesy to strangers, 
 of which I both now and afterwards had the benefit. He had 
 a florid complexion, and seemed to be in the possession of rustic 
 health. 
 
 My companions then took me to Professor Meyer, who in- 
 troduced us into the presence of Goethe, — the great man, the 
 first sight of whom may well form an epoch in the life of any 
 one who has devoted himself seriously to the pursuit of poetry 
 or philosophy. 
 
 I had said to Seume that I wished to speak with Wieland, 
 and look at Goethe, — and I literally and exactly had my de- 
 sire. My sense of his greatness was such that, had the oppor- 
 tunity offered, I think I should have been incapable of entering 
 into conversation w^ith him ; but as it was, I was allowed to 
 gaze on him in silence. Goethe lived in a large and handsome 
 house, — that is, for Weimar. Before the door of his study 
 was marked in mosaic, SALVE. On our entrance he rose, and 
 with rather a cool and distant air beckoned to us to take seats. 
 As he fixed his burning eye on Seume, who took the lead, I had 
 his profile before me, and this was the case during the whole 
 of our twenty minutes' stay. He was then about fifty-two 
 years of age, and was beginning to be corpulent. He was, I 
 think, one of the most oppressively handsome men I ever saw. 
 My feeling of awe was heightened by an accident. The last 
 play which I had seen in England was " Measure for Measure," 
 in which one of the most remarkable moments was when Kem- 
 ble (the Duke), disguised as a monk, had his hood pulled off 
 
72 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. o. 
 
 by Lucio. On this, Kemble, with an expression of wonderful 
 dignity, ascended the throne and delivered judgment on the 
 wrongdoers. 
 
 Goethe sat in precisely the same attitude, and I had precisely 
 the same view of his side-face. The conversation was quite 
 insignificant. My companions talked about themselves, — 
 Seume about his youth of adversity and strange adventures. 
 Goethe smiled, with, as I thought, the benignity of condescen- 
 sion. When we were dismissed, and I was in the open air, I 
 felt as if a weight were removed from my breast, and exclaimed, 
 '' Gott sei Dank ! " Before long I saw him under more favora- 
 ble auspices ; but of that hereafter. 
 
 Goethe has been often reproached for his Jiauteur, and 
 Burger made an epigram which the enviers and revilers of 
 the great man were fond of repeating. I believe, however, 
 that this demeanor was necessary in self-defence. It was his 
 only protection against the intrusion which would otherwise 
 have robbed him and the world of a large portion of his life. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. K 
 
 Goethe's " Iphigenia in Tauris " is perhaps the most perfect 
 drama ever composed. I have read it three times within a 
 month, and believe it has not a faulty line. W. Taylor has 
 translated it. Do lay out half a crown on my judgment, — 
 fancy Mrs. Siddons to be Iphigenia, — and you will feel that 
 she is the most perfect ideal of the female character ever con- 
 ceived, rivalling in that point of view even Milton's Eve. You 
 wiU admire the solemn repose, the celestial tranquillity of her 
 character, as well as of the events themselves ; and this is, in 
 my mind, the characteristic of Goethe. His better and more 
 perfect works are without disorder and tumult, — they resem- 
 ble Claude Lorraine's landscapes and Raphael's historical 
 pieces. Goethe's Songs and Ballads and Elegies all have the 
 same character ; his Ballads in particular have a wildness of 
 fancy which is fascinating, but without turbulence. No hurry- 
 scurry, as in Burger's " Leonora." Apropos, I beheve you will 
 find in Monk Lewis a translation of a baUad called the " Erl- 
 King," — hunt for it and read it. Goethe knows his own 
 worth. In the whole compass of his works I believe not a 
 single preface, or an article in which he speaks of him- 
 self, is to be found, — it is enough that his works are 
 there. .... 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 73 
 
 The same evening 1 had an introduction to one who in any 
 place but Weimar would have held the first rank, and who in 
 his person and bearing impressed every one with the feeling 
 that he belonged to the highest class of men. This was Her- 
 der. The interview was, if possible, more insignificant than 
 that with Goethe, — partly, perhaps, on account of my being 
 introduced at the same time with a distinguished publicist, to 
 use the German term, the eminent political writer and states- 
 man Friedrich Gentz, the translator of Burke on the French 
 Revolutiou, author of several Austrian state papers against 
 France, and the gTeat literary advocate of the Austrian cause. 
 I naturally kept in the background, contenting myself with 
 delivering a letter which Madame de la Roche had given me. 
 But Herder sent for me next day. He had a fine clerical 
 figure, and reminded me of Dr. Geddes. His expression was 
 one of great earnestness. Though he filled the highest eccle- 
 siastical office the little state of Weimar affbrded, yet the 
 greatness of Goethe seemed to throw him into the shade ; and 
 this, perhaps, prevented him from appreciating Goethe's genius. 
 For the present I shall content myself w4th saying that we 
 had some controversial talk, — I not assenting to his con- 
 temptuous judgment of the English lyric poets, and he de- 
 claring the infinite superiority of Klopstock's Odes to all that 
 Gray and Collins had ever written. We talked also about our 
 English philosophers, and he gave me a shake of the hand for 
 my praise of Hartley. Herder was a partisan of Locke. 
 
 Before I left Weimar I called on the one other great poet, 
 Schiller, of whom unhappily I have as little to say as of the 
 others. Indeed we were with him but a few minutes. I had 
 just time to mention Coleridge's translation of Wallenstein, 
 of which he seemed to have a high opinion. The translator 
 was a man of genius, he said, but had made some ridiculous 
 mistakes. Schiller had a wild expression and a sickly look ; and 
 his manners were those of one who is not at his ease. There 
 was in him a mixture of the wildness of genius and the awkward- 
 ness of the student. His features were large and irregular. 
 
 On Satm-day night we went to the theatre, where I saw 
 " Wallensteins Tod " performed in the presence of the author. 
 Schlegel somewhere says : " Germany has two national theatres, 
 — Vienna with a public of 50,000 spectators, Weimar with a 
 public of 50." The theatre was at this time unique ; its man- 
 agers were Goethe and Schiller, who exhibited there the works 
 which were to become standards and models of dramatic litera- 
 
 VOL. I. 4 
 
74 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 ture. Schiller had his seat near the ducal box, Goethe an 
 arm-chair in the centre of the first row of the pit. In general, 
 theatres, whatever their size and beauty may be, are after all 
 mere places where people, instead of sitting to enjoy them- 
 selves at their ease, are crowded together to see something at 
 a distance, and it is considered a sort of infringement on the 
 rights of others to take knee or elbow room. Here, on the 
 contrary, I found myself in an elegant apartment, so lightly and 
 classically adorned, and so free and easy in its aspect, that I 
 almost forgot where I w^as. In the pit the seats are aU num- 
 bered, each person has his own, and each seat has arms. The 
 single row of boxes is supported by elegant pillars, under which 
 the pit loungers stroll at pleasure. The boxes have no divis- 
 ion except in front. They are adorned, too, by elegant pil- 
 lars, and are open below ; instead of the boards commonly 
 placed in front are elegant iron palisades. There are no fixed 
 seats, only chairs, all of which, in front, are occupied by ladies. 
 The gentlemen go into the pit when they do not, as courteous 
 cavaliers, wait behind the chairs of their fair friends. The 
 box in front is occupied by the Duke and Duchess with their 
 suite, of course without the dull formality attending a Royal 
 presence at Drury Lane. I beheld Schiller a great part of the 
 evening leaning over the ducal box and chatting with the fam- 
 ily. In the performance of this evening, I was pleased with 
 Graff as the representative of the hero, and with Mademoi- 
 selle Jagermann as Thekla. She was a graceful and beautiful 
 creature, the first actress of the company. 
 
 One other noted character we visited, — the one who, ac- 
 cording to William Taylor of Norwich, was the greatest of all. 
 This was August von Kotzebue, the very popular dramatist, 
 whose singular fate it was to live at variance with the great 
 poets of his country while he was the idol of the mob. He 
 was at one time (about this time and a little later) a favorite 
 in all Europe. One of his plays, " The Stranger," I have 
 seen acted in German, English, Spanish, French, and I believe 
 also Italian. He was the pensioner of Prussia, Austria, and 
 Russia. The odium produced by this circumstance, and the 
 imputation of being a spy, are assigned as the cause of his 
 assassination by a student of Jena a few years after our visit. 
 He was living, like Goethe, in a large house and in style. I 
 drank tea with him, and found him a lively little man with 
 small black eyes. He had the manners of a petit ma cere. He 
 was a married man with a large family, and seemed to be not 
 
1801.] GERMANY. 75 
 
 without the domestic feelings which he has so successfully 
 painted in his works. We were ushered through a suite of 
 rooms by a man-servant, and found Mr. President in state. 
 Nor is it unworthy of remark that his house had thirty-seven 
 windows in front. Indeed, the comfortable style in which all 
 the poets I have mentioned lived would make me imagine the 
 poet's fate must be singularly good in Germany, if I did not 
 recollect that those I saw were the prime, and elect of the 
 German geniuses, — the favorites and idols of their nation. 
 Wieland and Goethe both gained a fortune by their writings, 
 and Schiller supported himself entirely by his pen. 
 
 Weimar * is an insignificant little town, without an object 
 of beauty or taste but its park ; and even that among parks 
 has no great excellence. It has been immortalized by many a 
 passage in Goethe's poems. His house will no doubt be pre- 
 served for the sake of its associations, and so probably will be 
 the residences of the other chief poets. These, alas, have 
 aU passed away ! f 
 
 On Sunday, amid snow and rain and wind, we left the seat 
 of the Muses for the school of the philosophers, — W^eimar 
 for Jena. The University at the latter place has all the ad- 
 vantage of site, lying in a beautiful valley. The town itself, 
 as approached from Weimar, looked interesting and promising 
 as we descended the winding road called the Snake, but within 
 it is a beggarly place. I at once made use of a strange letter 
 of introduction given me at Gottingen by Winckelmann to a 
 student here, — a character, — one KoUe, who, having passed 
 through the ordinary years of study, continued to live here at 
 the least possible expense, sauntering his time away, but by 
 his conversation amusing and instructing others. He re- 
 ceived me very cordially, though my introduction consisted 
 only of my name with some verses from Goethe. Kolle took 
 me to a concert-room, where I saw the students in genteeler 
 trim than I had seen before. His enthusiastic talk about the 
 poets and philosophers awakened in me the desire, which was 
 afterwards gratified, of residing among them. We soon left 
 Jena, and my companions, Seume and Schnorr, set out on that 
 " Spaziergang nach Syrakus," an account of which was pub- 
 lished. Seume in the first sentence says :^^ A few kind friends 
 accompanied us a short distance." I was one of those friends. 
 
 * A very interesting and detailed description of Weimar as it appeared in 
 the eighteenth century will be found in G. H. Lewes's " Life of Goethe," 
 Vol. I. p. 311. 
 
 t Written in 1847. 
 
76 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GERMANY. 1802. 
 
 I FINALLY left Grimma on May 4, 1802. Brentano had 
 finished his preparatory studies for the University, and 
 wished me to accompany him to Frankfort. We intended to 
 have gone thither by Carlsbad, but on my applying to Mr. 
 Elliott for a certificate that I was an Englishman, he refused it 
 very civilly on the ground that I had not a single letter or 
 paper to corroborate my declaration. He said he had no doubt 
 that I was what I declared myself to be, and he would speak 
 in my behalf to the proper authorities. But Brentano objected 
 to the delay, and we therefore changed oiu- route, and took the 
 opportunity of visiting some romantic scenes among the 
 Fichtelgebirge, or Fir Mountains, the birthplace of Jean Paul 
 Richter. Here are some very curious rocks, well known and 
 celebrated by travellers in search of the picturesque. Houses 
 of entertainment have been erected, and are adorned with ar- 
 bors, which are furnished with inscriptions. On a lofty rock, 
 under which there is a rich spring, there are two hexameters, 
 which I thus translated : — 
 
 " Here from the rock's deep recesses, the nymph of the fount pours her 
 treasures ; 
 Learn, man, so to give, and so to conceal, too, the giver." 
 
 On our arrival at Ansbach, which had recently been brought 
 under the dominion of Prussia, we found in the peasantry an 
 antipathy to the new government, on account of their becom- 
 ing subject to military conscription, from which the subjects of 
 the ecclesiastical states and of the small German princes were 
 free. I could not but notice that the peasants under the eccle- 
 siastical princes were unquestionably, in general, in a far better 
 condition than those under the secular Protestant princes. 
 The Calvinists and Lutherans had certainly the advantage in 
 intelligence, but they had worse bread and less meat than 
 their superstitious brethren, who doffed the hat at the wayside 
 shrines and repeated the Pater Noster and Ave Maria three 
 times a day. It was my observation on this and subsequent 
 occasions that the peasantry in the bishoprics of Bamberg and 
 Wiirzburg appeared to be in a state of more ease and comfort 
 
1802.J GERMANY. 77 
 
 than any I saw in Germany, excepting, perhaps, the Saxon 
 peasants in the Mine mountains. 
 
 In passing through the University town of Erlangen, I was 
 pleased with the gentlemanly appearance of the students, 
 though they had not the dashing impudence of the Cantabs or 
 Oxonians. We supped at the head inn, where there were 
 about fifty young men. Our polite host placed me by the side 
 of Professor Abicht, and I was again struck by the concurrence 
 of opinion among the German philosophers as to the transcen- 
 dent genius of Shakespeare, Goethe, and Dante, — the triple 
 glory of modern poetry, and by the diversity of opinion as to 
 the great principles of metaphysics. Abicht was the first 
 German whom I had heard avow belief in Priestleyan neces- 
 sity. 
 
 I also visited Nuremberg, famous for the manufactory of 
 toys ; and itself one of the most curious and national of cities. 
 On the morning after our arrival, I arose early and walked out 
 of the gates, and on my return was arrested by the guard ; 
 who ordered me to accompany him to the Governor. I ob- 
 served that he carried some irons in his hand. The Governor 
 received me courteously, examined my pass, asked me a few 
 questions, and finding I was at the principal inn, dismissed me 
 with the assurance that he was satisfied that I was an Ehren- 
 mann (as we should say, a gentleman) ; " though," he added, 
 " the sentinel was not to blame." In the course of the day he 
 sent a powdered lackey to me with the message that he hoped 
 I should not think worse of the city for what had happened. 
 I asked the servant to explain the cause of my arrest, and he 
 showed me a hue and cry after a merchant who had become a 
 fraudulent bankrupt and fled. The signalemeiit stated that 
 the fugitive had on pantaloons and cloth gaiters ! 
 
 At BischofFsheim, where Brentano had been at school, I was 
 amused by the cordial simplicity with which the old women 
 greeted him whom they had known as ^'little Christian" ; one 
 old woman exclaiming perpetually, " thou holy Mother of 
 God ! thou holy Antonius of Padua ! " Another good 
 creature said she had never forgotten to pray for him, but now 
 that he had visited her, she would do it ten times oftener. I 
 could not but notice that Catholic piety seemed more lively as 
 well as more poetical than Calvinistic. I saw here in a poor 
 cottage an edifying book, which delighted me by the beautiful 
 simplicity of its style. It was entitled " Gnadenbilder " 
 (Grace-working Images), and was a collection of tales of mira- 
 
78 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 cles wrought by images. The facts were briefly stated, with 
 no assertion of their truth, and no dogma or imprecation 
 against unbelievers ; and each tale had its prayer. The prayers 
 addressed to the Virgin were in a style of naive and simple 
 affection, quite touching ; such as, "^0 thou chaste Dove, 
 who feddest with holy crumbs the heavenly Babe ! " — "0 
 thou pure Swan, who sailest on the lake of Divine Grace ! " — 
 " thou Arch of triumph, through which alone the Lord of 
 Glory was permitted to pass ! " Brentano afterwards became a 
 zealous Romanist, and perhaps the circumstances of his early 
 education had something to do with this change. 
 
 In a certain sense, many of us mutilate the mind and ren- 
 der it impotent, for there is in the nature of man an irresist- 
 ible tendency to religion ; it is founded in our wants and 
 passions, in the extent of our faculties, in the quality of mind 
 itself. Akenside's description of the untired soul darting 
 from world to world is a noble image of the restless longing 
 of the mind after God and immortality. The stronger his 
 sensibility, the more exalted his imagination, the more pious 
 will every man be. And in this inherent and essential quality 
 of our minds can we alone account for the various absurd and 
 demonstrably false dogmas believed so honestly and zealously 
 by some. Men run headlong into superstition in the same 
 way as young boys and girls run into matrimony. 
 
 On reaching Frankfort I took up my abode there for a short 
 time, and enjoyed the renewal of the society of the Servieres, 
 the Brentanos, and other former friends. The only incident I 
 have to mention is, that once or twice I was in the company 
 of Frau Rathinn Goethe,* who is almost an historic character 
 through the supreme eminence of her son. She had the mien 
 and deportment of a strong person. This impression of her is 
 confirmed by the anecdotes related of her in the " Briefwechsel 
 von Goethe \iit einem Kinde," and indeed by every account 
 of her. She spoke of her son with satisfaction and pride. In 
 the course of her conversation she remarked, that Werter is 
 not in the beginning the Werter of the end, and that it is 
 only in the latter part of the work he may be said to repre- 
 sent Jerusalem, — a young man who really killed himself be- 
 cause he received an aifront in public. She spoke also of the 
 origin of " Gotz von Berlichingen." Her son came home one 
 evening in high spirits, saying, " mother, I have found 
 su€h a book in the public library, and I will make a play of 
 
 * Known under the appellation of Frau Rath Goethe in German literature. 
 
^''^^'] IMRf GERMANY. ^VRHRp *^^ 
 
 it ! What great eyes the Philistines will make at the Knight 
 with the Iron-hand ! That 's glorious, — the Iron-hand ! " 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Frankfort, June 6, 1802. 
 
 A few days since I had the pleasure of conversing with F. 
 Schlegel, one of the first living poets, and a great ^sthetiker ; 
 he is the brother of the translator of Shakespeare. He seemed 
 much pleased with one or two pieces by Wordsworth. W^e 
 talked of our English poets. He holds Spenser to be the 
 greatest in respect to the melody of verse. "When I read 
 him," says he, "I can hardly think it is a Northern language, 
 much less English." He holds his " Pastorals " to be his best 
 work, and yet this is a book of which neither you nor I have 
 read a word. I am resolved to leave my favorite authors and 
 study those I have through mistaken notions or absurd preju- 
 dices neglected. 
 
 I met lately with a declaration by Wieland concerning 
 Shaftesbury : " The author," says he, " to whom I owe more 
 of my cultivation than to any other writer, and of whom I 
 never think without humility when I reflect how far below 
 him I now am." And yet I believe Shaftesbury is quite un- 
 known to you. Mendelssohn calls him the English Plato for 
 richness of style, and for the genial poetic character of his 
 moral philosophy. 
 
 While I was at Frankfort I received an invitation from 
 Christian Brentano to join him at Marburg and accompany 
 him to Jena. One of the places I passed through was thr 
 University town of Giessen, which seemed to me a poverty- 
 struck and remarkably uninteresting town. It belongs to 
 Hesse, and has recently derived celebrity from its great chem- 
 ical professor, Liebig. In five days I reached Marbiurg, also 
 the seat of a University, and beautiful and romantic in situa- 
 tion. Delightful apartments had been taken for me in the 
 house of Professor Tiedemann, the author of a learned His- 
 tory of Philosophy. But I saw nothing of him or his family. 
 His house was nearly at the top of the town, and from my 
 pillow I had towards the east a glorious view of a long valley. 
 I lay on a sofa of metal rings, covered with hair, the most 
 elastic of couches, and to me a novelty. Adjoining this apart- 
 ment were the rooms of the then Doctor Docens, or perhaps 
 Professor Extraordinarius, von Savigny, who was commencing 
 
80 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 the professional career which ended in his being placed in the 
 highest position in Prussia, that of Minister of State for the 
 Law Department, — a kind of Chancellor. He became the 
 head of the historical school of law as opposed to the codify- 
 ing school, of which in modern times Bentham was the most 
 eminent advocate. Savigny's great work is a History of Eo- 
 man Law. At the time of w^hich I speak he was known by a 
 learned work on Real Law, " Uber Besitz " (on Possession). 
 A dinner for four w^as brought up to his apartments every day, 
 for him, the two Brentanos, and myself ; and we usually spent 
 the rest of the day together, Savigny was altogether differ- 
 ent in his manner from the Brentanos, — rather solemn in his 
 tone. In the contests which constantly arose between them 
 and me, I always found him on my side. He had a firue face, 
 which strongly resembled the portraits of Raphael. At this 
 very time he was paying his addresses to the eldest of the 
 Miss Brentanos, Kunigunda by name. Several of her letters 
 to him were sent under cover to me. I am ashamed to con- 
 fess that, though I was fully sensible of the solidity of his 
 attainments and the worth of his character, I had so little 
 discernment as not in the least to foresee his great future 
 eminence. Of his conversation I recollect only one thing 
 that is characteristic. He said that an English lawyer might 
 render great service to legal science by studying the Roman 
 Law, and showing the obligations of English Law to it, which 
 are more numerous than is generally supposed. One day I 
 mentioned our fiction of a wager in order to try an issue, 
 and he informed me that that was borrowed from the Roman 
 Law. 
 
 After an agreeable residence of between five and six weeks 
 at Marburg, I set out on foot with Christian Brentano for 
 Jena. The only incident on the journey w^hich I recollect, is 
 a visit to the celebrated castle of Wartburg, where Luther im- 
 derwent his friendly imprisonment, and made part of his 
 famous translation of the Bible. On arriving at Jena I took 
 up my residence in agreeable apartments,* and was at once 
 introduced to a social circle which rendered my stay there, till 
 the autumn of 1805, one of the happiest periods of my life. 
 
 Having resolved to become a student at the University, 
 I matriculated on the 20th of October, the Prorector being 
 Geheimerath (Privy Counsellor) Voigt. 
 
 It required only a few dollars to become enrolled among the 
 
 * My lodgings cost yearly somewhat less than seven pounds! — H. C R. 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 81 
 
 Academischen Biirger. The fees amounted to little more than 
 half a guinea ; but for the honor of Old England I contrived 
 to spend nearly a guinea by increasing the gratuities to the 
 under officers. I received in return a large piece of printed 
 paper, with a huge seal, announcing in Latin that, on due 
 examination, I had been found worthy to study all the arts 
 and sciences. I had also acquired a variety of legal privileges, 
 and contracted certain obligations. I solemnly promised not 
 to knock anybody on the head, which I never felt any inclina- 
 tion to do : to enter into no clubs and societies, which never- 
 theless exist with the knowledge and connivance of the 
 authorities : to employ all the knowledge I should gain to the 
 advantage of religion and society, — a promise which might 
 be kept without, I fear, sensibly advancing either. And yet 
 1 took pains enough to get wisdom, for I went to school four 
 times a day, and heard lectures on experimental physics, on 
 aesthetics, on speculative philosophy, and on physical anthro- 
 pology. The shortest way of giving an accoimt of my uniform 
 occupation during five days of the week will be by an extract 
 from a letter : — 
 
 " About six o'clock the man who brushes my clothes and 
 cleans my shoes will open my bedroom, or rather closet, door, 
 and light my candle. I shall instantly jump out of my 
 wretched straw hammock and go into my room, where in half 
 an hour our pretty chambermaid wdll bring my dried carrots, 
 called coffee, w^hich I shall drink because I am thirsty, but 
 not without longing after tea and toast. This done, I shall 
 take up Schelling's * Journal of Speculative Physics/ and, com- 
 paring the prmted paragraphs with my notes taken last Fri- 
 day, try to persuade myself that I have understood something. 
 Then I shall listen to another lecture by him on the same 
 subject. What my experience will then be, I can't say ; I 
 know, what it has been." 
 
 I will interpose a sad but true commentary on the text. 
 I very lately read, in the Prospective Review, an article by 
 James Martineau, in which he says, " This is the age of meta- 
 physical curiosity without metaphysical talent." In every 
 age, I believe, there have been students of whom this might 
 be said, and I do not repent of being one of them. T would 
 rather have failed in the attempt than not have made it. 
 
 ^^ Precisely at ten I shall run to the Auditorium of his 
 ' Magnificence,' the Prorector Yoigt, and hear his lecture on 
 Experimental Physics, which we call Natural Philosophy. I 
 
 4* » 
 
82 REMINISCENCES OF HENKV CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6 
 
 shall admire his instruments and smile at the egregious ab- ^ 
 
 surdity of his illustrations of the laws of nature, and at his 
 attempts to draw a moral from his physical lessons. He may 
 possibly repeat his favorite hypothesis of two sorts of fire, 
 male and female ; or allude to his illustration of the Trinity, 
 as shown in the creative or paternal, the preserving or filial, 
 the combining or spiritual principles of nature. Or he may 
 liken the operation of attraction and repulsion in the mate- 
 rial world to the debit and credit of a merchant's cash-book. 
 (N. B. These are all facts.) Wearied by the lecture, I shall 
 perhaps hardly know what to do between eleven and twelve 
 o'clock, when I shall reluctantly come home to a very bad 
 dinner. Jena is famous for its bad eating and drinking. Then 
 I shall prepare myself for a lecture at two from Geheimer-Ho- 
 frath Loder, on Physical Anthropology, by far the best de- \ 
 
 livered and most useful of the lectures I attend. I shall do | 
 
 my best to conquer my dislike of, and even disgust at, ana- j 
 
 tomical preparations, and my repugnance to inspect rotten car- \ 
 
 casses and smoked skeletons. And I expect to learn the 
 general laws and structure of the human frame, as developed 
 with less minuteness for general students than he employs on 
 his anatomical lectures for students of medicine." 
 
 I add here that the museum of Loder enjoyed as high a 
 reputation in Germany as that of John Hunter in England, 
 and that the museum and its professor were together invited 
 soon after this time to the Russian University of Dorpat, — 
 the malicious and envious afiirming that the professor went 
 as accessory. 
 
 **From Loder I shall proceed to Schelling, and hear him 
 lecture for an hour on Esthetics, or the Philosophy of Taste. 
 In spite of the obscurity of a philosophy in which are com- 
 bined profound abstraction and enthusiastic mysticism, I shall 
 certainly be amused at particular remarks (however unable to 
 comprehend the w^hole) in his development of Platonic ideas 
 and explanation of the philosophy veiled in the Greek my- 
 thology. I may be, perhaps, a little touched now and then 
 by his contemptuous treatment of our English writers, as last 
 Wednesday I was by his abuse of Darwin and Locke. I may 
 hear Johnson called thick-skinned, and Priestley shallow. I 
 may hear it insinuated that science is not to be expected in a 
 country where mathematics are valued only as they may help 
 to make spinning-jennies and machines for weaving stockings. 
 After a stroll by the riverside in Paradise, I shall at four 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 83 
 
 attend Schelling's lecture on Speculative Philosophy, and 
 I may be animated by the sight of more than 130 enthusiastic 
 young men, eagerly listening to the exposition of a philosophy 
 which in its pretensions is more aspiring than any publicly 
 maintained since the days of Plato and his commentators, — 
 a philosophy equally opposed to the empiricism of Locke, the 
 scepticism of Hume, and the critical school of Kant, and which 
 is now in the sphere of Metaphysics the Lord of the Ascend- 
 ant. But if I chance to be in a prosaic mood, I may smile at 
 the patience of so large an assembly, listening, because it is 
 the fashion, to a detail which not one in twenty comprehends, 
 and which only fills the head with dry formularies and rhap- 
 sodical phraseology. At six I shall come home exhausted 
 with attention to novelties hard to understand ; and after, 
 perhaps, an unsuccessful attempt to pen a few English iambics 
 in a translation of Goethe's ' Tasso,' I shall read in bed some 
 fairy tale, poem, or other light work." 
 
 This account of my first Semester studies may suffice for the 
 present. Soon after writing the letter from which the above 
 is taken, I was invited to a supper-party at Schelling's. The 
 evening was a jovial one, and showed that philosophers can 
 unbend as well as other folk ; and as it was only in a convivial 
 way I could expect to be listened to by a great metaphysician, 
 I ventured to spar with the Professor. Some strange and un- 
 intelligible remarks had been made on the mythology as well 
 of the Orientalists as the Greeks, and the important part 
 played by the Serpent. A gentleman present exhibited a 
 ring, received from England, in the form of a serpent. " Is 
 the serpent the symbol of English philosophy 1 " said Schelling 
 to me. • *' no ! " T answered, *' the English take it to apper- 
 tain to German philosophy, because it changes its coat every 
 year." — '* A proof," he replied, " that the English do not look 
 deeper than the coat." Though I shall have occasion again to 
 speak of Schelling, I will here add that he had the counte- 
 nance of a white negro, if the contradiction may be pardoned, 
 — that is, the curly hair, flat nose, and thick lips, without the 
 color of the African. After a time he was dethroned from his 
 metaphysical rank by Hegel, who must have been his pupil.* 
 Of him I have no recollection, though I find among my papers 
 some memoranda of him. His philosophy was stigmatized as 
 
 ♦ Hegel and Schelling were fellow-pupils at Tiibino-en. The former was 
 five years the elder; nevertheless Scliellino^ seem^ pt fi -st to !iave taken the 
 lead in philosophy, and to have been of service to his friend. 
 
84 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 Pantheistic ; Schelling managed to keep on better terms with 
 Christianity. His learning is unquestionable, and he ranks 
 among the first of German thinkers. Like his predecessors, he 
 was fond of tracing a trinity in his scheme. The Absolute 
 Being or All in All appears sometimes as the finite or nature, 
 symbolized by the Son, who, according to the Christian revela- 
 tion, is subject to the conditions of Time, like all natural and 
 material things, and therefore dies ; sometimes as thought or 
 the infinite, having no form, the Spirit j and the union of the 
 two, matter and spirit, is the Father. And thus who knows 
 but that after all the Athanasian Creed will be resolved into 
 high metaphysical truth ] 
 
 It may be thought that these metaphysical puzzles have no 
 business in a paper of personal recollections ; but, in fact, these 
 subjects occupied much of my time while in Jena, — and never 
 more than now. 
 
 The old student Kolle, to whom I have already referred, in- 
 troduced me to Professor Fries, the most distinguished Kan- 
 tianer at that time, when the idealists of the Fichte and 
 Schelling schools had nearly destroyed the Critical Philosophy. 
 Fries was brought up among the Moravians, fond of talk, but 
 of the simplest habits, — a shy man. Almost the only treat 
 he allowed himself was a daily walk to Zwatzen, a village about 
 two miles from Jena, in the charming valley of which Jena is 
 the metropolis. Around Fries collected a number of young 
 men ; and of his party I was considered an ordinary member. 
 By him and by others I w^as well received, my chief merit 
 being, I believe, there as elsewhere in Germany, that I was 
 *^ der Englander." Nearly the whole of my time at Jena I was 
 the only Englishman there. It was a passport everywhere. I 
 could give information, at all events, about the langiiage. 
 With Fries I used to talk about the English philosophers, held 
 very cheaply by him ; but he wanted historical knowledge 
 about them, which I was able to give. And he, in return, 
 tried to inoculate me with Kantianism. The little I ever 
 clearly understood I learned from him. 
 
 On passing through Schlangenbad I fell in with a Major 
 K , a gentlemanly man, who gave me a card to two stu- 
 dents who were connected with him, — Frederick and Christian 
 Schlosser. Christian, the younger, had a commanding intel- 
 lect, and was a partisan of the new poetical school, as well as 
 of the newest school of medical philosophy. His profession 
 was that of medicine. He became a Roman Catholic, and his 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 85 
 
 elder brother followed him. He died young. At the time of 
 my writing this, Frederick is still living, and resides at Heidel- 
 berg, in a handsome house called the Stift, an ancient con- 
 vent ; he and his wife are both highly esteemed. The Stift is 
 his own property ; but he told me that as it had been Church 
 property, and was confiscated at the Reformation, he did not 
 purchase it until he had obtained the approbation and license 
 of the Pope. 
 
 Before the end of the year I left off dining at home, and 
 became an abonne at the Rose, the head inn, where my dinner 
 cost five shillings a week. Here were the Schlossers and other 
 students of the higher class, and the conversation was in the 
 best University tone. I was often applied to, to read passages 
 from Shakespeare. Christian Schlosser remarked one day at 
 the Rose table-d'hote, that in the " Midsummer Night's 
 Dream," the pervading idea is mesalliance^ — among the super- 
 natural beings and on earth, matrimonial dissensions, — in the 
 comic characters also, when the mechanics presume to ally 
 themselves to fine art. The Schlossers looked down upon the 
 Kantian school, and therefore upon Fries. They and he, how- 
 ever, were united to a certain degree by a common love and 
 admiration of Goethe. A third Schlosser, a cousin, was a 
 nephew of Goethe, and there was a friendly acquaintance be- 
 tween the Schlossers and Clemens Brentano. 
 
 I may here relate a curious phenomenon of which I myself 
 was a witness. The house in which I lived was large, and a 
 number of students occupied apartments in it. There was no 
 resident family, nor any female except a middle-aged woman, 
 Aufwarterinn (waitress), and a very pretty girl, Besen (broom), 
 in the cant language of the Burschen, — both respectable in 
 their situation. It was the business of these women to let in 
 the students at all hours of the night, and by so doing a habit 
 was contracted of rising and opening the door without awak- 
 ing. It became possible to maintain a conversation with both 
 the woman and the girl without their being properly awake. 
 Their condition seems to have been very much like what is 
 now known as the mesmeric sleep. The particulars which I 
 have to mention are still fresh in my memory, but I will copy 
 from an account written by me at the time : " Last night, 
 going into the kitchen for a candle, I saw the younger woman 
 of the house in this extraordinary state, and listened to a 
 dialogue between her and the elder : her answers were perti- 
 nent and even witty. One question put to her was, ' What 
 
86 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB RdniNSOX. [Chap. 6. 
 
 sort of a man is Brentano 1 ' She answered : * The little fellow 
 in the front parlor ? 0, he 's a comical fellow, — like his brother 
 Clemens, — but he was artig ' (polite). — ' And what of the 
 Englishman 'I ' — ' 0, he 's a guter Kerl (a good fellow), — he 's 
 so fond of talking.' So you see what she said in her sleep was 
 credible at all events. After several incidents, which I pass 
 over, I spoke in my own voice, and asked for a candle ; she 
 recognized me, and without awaking took the light and accom- 
 panied me to my room. A few days later I witnessed some 
 amusing but unwarrantable experiments on the elder woman, 
 when she was in the same state. The inquiry was made 
 whether she had any empty rooms. She replied, ' yes ! ' 
 and then in an artificial tone praised the rooms and named the 
 price. Some of the questions were of a kind which I could not 
 approve, and when at length she awoke she was very reason- 
 ably angry at the tricks which had been played on her." 
 
 On seeking for an explanation of these facts, I found that 
 animal magnetism, so far from being considered in Jena as 
 mere quackery, was received by the most esteemed natural 
 philosophers as an admitted fact, and an important chapter in 
 the natural history of man. 
 
 H. C. R TO T. R. 
 
 "On all points, natural philosophy, religion, metaphysics, 
 there seems to be a uniform opposition between German and 
 English opinion. You say with truth I am growing a mystic. 
 I rejoice to perceive it. Mystery is the poetry of philosophy. 
 It employs and delights the fancy at least, while your philos- 
 ophy, and the cold rational quibbles of the French and Eng- 
 lish schools, furnish nothing but negatives to the understand- 
 ing, and leave the fancy and the heart quite barren. After all, 
 what we want is strong persuasion, conviction, satisfaction ; 
 whether it be the demonstrated knowledge of the mathemati- 
 cian, the faith of the pietist, the presentiment of the mystic, 
 or the inspiration of the poet, is of less consequence to the 
 individual. And it seems that nature has sufficiently pro- 
 vided for this great blessing by that happy ductility of imagi- 
 nation which is called credulity." 
 
 So I wrote. But I should have thought more justly if I 
 had said that the best provision of nature or providence 
 (whichever name we give to the originating cause), for the fit 
 cultivation of the spheres of nature, physical and moral, lies 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 87 
 
 in the infinite varieties of human character. All the faculties 
 which man has are found, generally speaking, in all men ; but 
 with infinite degrees of strength and quantity, and with 
 varieties in combination. 
 
 One of my employments during a part of 1802-3 was 
 that of a contributor to a magazine entitled the Monthly 
 Register^ and edited by my friend Collier. The subjects on 
 which I wrote were German literature, the philosophy of 
 Kant, <kc. I also gave many translations from Goethe, 
 Schiller, and others, in order to exemplify the German theory 
 of versification. As an apology for my being so much at- 
 tracted to this subject, I quote on the epic hexameter : — 
 
 " Giddy it bears thee away, on the waves ever restless and rolling; 
 And thou, behind and before, seest but ocean and sky." 
 
 I sent one really wise paper, — a translation of an essay by 
 Herr von Savigny on German Universities j for the rest, I un- 
 affectedly declare that they attracted no notice, and did not 
 deserv^e any. 
 
 [This wil] be the best place for a letter from Savigny, though 
 written somewhat later, on the subject of Universitv teaching. 
 — Ed.] 
 
 Savigny to H. C. R. (Translated.) 
 
 Marburg, January 9, 1803. 
 
 Dear Robinson, — If you saw what a tremendous deal I 
 have to do this winter, you would forgive me that I have not 
 written to you before. Nevertheless I do not forgive myself, 
 for I have all this time not heard from you, and that through 
 my fault. 
 
 Moreover, in your letter you do me a wTong which I have to 
 endure from many ; you imagine you see in me a teacher full 
 of noble views with regard to you. God knows how I have 
 incurred this suspicion, — I, who perhaps am too off'-hand with 
 myself and others, and act and speak almost entirely accord- 
 ing to my mood, and consequently as I feel at the moment, 
 without any generous thought about the future. If I were 
 to keep silent at such an accusation, my relation to you would 
 be really a mockery ; I should then put on a serious face, and 
 could not help laughing at you in my heart. 
 
 About the oral lectures we are indeed of very different 
 opinions, although I quite agree with you as to the method 
 m which they are now given. If a rule is to be established 
 
88 BEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 on the subject, it is necessary first to leave out of considera- 
 tion those real geniuses who are great in practice, though even 
 these must find a place in the end. Such a genius Schelling 
 is not, — Fichte may partially have been ; I have known only 
 one such, and that was Spittler. To give one day full expres- 
 sion to my theory, and also to do something towards carrying 
 it out, is a matter w^hicli I have especially at heart. Its prin- 
 ciple is very simple : whatever man pursues, his own dignity, 
 as well as the interest of the work, and of the subject itself, 
 demands always that he should do it thoroughly. Thoroughly 
 to do a thing means so to do it that the work shall penetrate 
 our innermost being and thus become a part of ourselves, and 
 then be spontaneously reproduced. Thus arise master minds 
 who combine mastery of their subject with the maintenance 
 of their individuality. But the only way in which we can 
 make a thing our own is by thoroughly working it out. 
 Therefore the whole art of a teacher consists in methodically 
 quickening the productive energy of the pupil, and making 
 him find out science for himself. I am convinced, therefore, 
 that this is the one necessary method, and consequently that 
 it is possible. Our lectures, as they are at present, have 
 little resemblance to it ; even in outward form almost every- 
 thing must be changed. I see clearly the possibility of carry- 
 ing out a. great part of this plan, — the greatest difficulty 
 being without doubt to teach philosophy in this way, although 
 it may be supposed to have been the method of the ancients. 
 Nothing can be more opposfte than the diffuse way in which 
 Schelling authoritatively forces his ideas on crude understand- 
 ings, and this method, according to w^hich it ought to be the 
 highest glory of the teacher, if the pupils, with the greatest 
 love and veneration for him, should nevertheless stand to him, 
 the scientific individual, in no nearer relation than to any one 
 else. The manner of lecturing should be in the highest de- 
 gree unrestrained : teaching, talking, questioning, conversing, 
 just as the subject may require. There is no calculating 
 what must result from this ; unquestionably the greatest diffi- 
 culty would be to find a number of teachers adapted to it. 
 Yet nothing is impossible. You see that this whole idea 
 might be expressed from another side, by the demand that the 
 free activity of the mind should be rendered possible by the 
 complete mastery of the whole subject-matter. And, viewed 
 from this point, it stands in very decided connection with the 
 method of the excellent and enthusiastic Pestalozzi. 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 89 
 
 Last of all, because such is the custom, but in every other 
 respect first of all, I beg the continuance of your friendly 
 feeling. 
 
 Savigny. 
 
 [Here also may be added two extracts respecting the funda- 
 mental principles of Kant's philosophy.] 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Kantianism professes to have detected the basis of meta- 
 physical science, and to have established that science on a 
 similar but not the same footing of sure evidence as the 
 mathematical and natural sciences. It professes to annihilate 
 scepticism, which is an eternal reproach to reason, (for what 
 is scepticism but a confession of the impotence of reason Vj 
 by showing the precise limits of knowledge, and the extent 
 and degree of belief which we are compelled to give to notions 
 that are not susceptible of certain evidence. In the study of 
 Kant, independently of his grand result, I have learnt to 
 detect so many false reasonings in our school, and have ac- 
 quired so many new views of intellect, that I rejoice in having 
 undertaken the study of him, though it has caused me more pain 
 than I scarcely ever felt, and produced that humiliating sense 
 of myself, the free and unexaggerated expression of which you 
 have been pleased to consider as • chimerical. I have indeed 
 conquered one vast difficulty, and have at length pierced the 
 cloud which hung over his doctrine of liberty. I am con- 
 verted from the dogmatical assertion of philosophical necessity, 
 but on grounds of which the libertarians in England have 
 no conception. I will still support necessity against all the 
 world but Kant and the Devil. Don't ask me for these 
 grounds, — they would be quite unintelligible till you had 
 previously comprehended and adopted the Kantian theory of 
 conceptions a priori^ and of time and space. It was the fault 
 of my last letter that I tried to say too much. I will confine 
 myself at present to one single point, and I flatter myself 
 that I shall make that one point intelligible. And I have 
 hitherto found that to comprehend and to be a convert to 
 Kant were the same. This point is the refutation of Locke's 
 (or rather Aristotle's) famous principle, that there is nothing 
 in intellect which was not before in sense, or that all our con- 
 ceptions (ideas) are derived from sensation. 
 
90 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 According to the empirical system, as stated in its utmost 
 consistency by Home Tooke, man has but one faculty, that of 
 receiving sensation from external objects. But as it is certain 
 we have innumerable notions and ideas which are not the 
 copies of external object, the empirics, particularly Hartley, 
 explain how these super-sensible notions and ideas yet arise 
 [mechanically according to Hartley) from such sensations. But 
 here is a clear defect in the system ; every operation supposes 
 a power working and a power worked upon. Mere sensibility 
 can give us only sensations, but it is certain we have a thou- 
 sand notions which are not material and sensible. External 
 objects may be, and unquestionably are, necessary conditions, 
 — the sine qua non of ideas, but there must be something 
 more. There must be in us a capacity of being so affected, 
 as well as in external objects a capacity of affecting. And 
 this something is a priori : not that in the order of time the 
 conceptions (general ideas) exist before experience, but that 
 the source of such conceptions is independent of experience. 
 You will therefore not accuse Kant of supporting innate ideas, 
 of which he is the decided adversary. 
 
 What Kant asserts is, that in order to the arriving at 
 knowledge there must be a matter and form ; the former is 
 furnished by the sensibility, the latter exists in the faculty of 
 understanding. This word/orm is to you quite unintelligible. 
 It was a long while ere I learnt its import. It is the Ass's 
 Bridge of Kantianism. I will try to lift you over it. You 
 have seen, I hope, a magic lantern. It is the best illustration 
 I can find. In order to show off the figures, there must be a 
 bright spot on the w^all, upon w^hich the colored figures are ex- 
 hibited. This is an image of the human mind. Without fig- 
 ures, the luminous spot is an empty nothing, like the human 
 mind till it has objects of sense. But w^ithout the spot the 
 figures would be invisible, as without an a priori capacity to 
 receive impressions we could have none. The matter, there- 
 fore, of the dancing spectacle on the wall is the ever-shifting 
 figure ; its form is the bright spot which is necessary to its 
 being shown. According to Leibnitz, the figures are ready 
 made in the spot. According to Locke, no spot is necessary. 
 Kant is the first philosopher who explained the true mechan- 
 ism of that wonderful magic lantern, the human mind. When^ 
 therefore, it is said we have the conceptions (general ideas) a 
 "priori^ it is not meant that the actual conceptions lie in us, even 
 in a sort of dormant state, — which would be a position with- 
 
 t 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 91 
 
 out meaning, and hence equally incapable of being proved or 
 disproved, — but that they ^re, or arise from the pre-existent 
 capacity of the understanding, and are determined by the 
 natural power of thinking which the mind possesses. In 
 other words, conceptions a priori are but the forms of con- 
 ceptions a posteriori, i. e. conceptions whose matter is derived 
 from experience. Perceiving a ball on the edge of a table, 
 which lies still till pushed off and then falls to the ground, the 
 mind can observe this fact, remember it, and put it into words. 
 But how is the mind enabled by this observation to infer that 
 all bodies in a state of rest remain as they are till a foreign 
 substance operates on them, — or, in a more general form, that 
 all events must have a cause ? The pushing of a ball is not all 
 events. And the fact that something is, is essentially different 
 fi'om the knowledge that something must he. The latter 
 knowledge nature can never give, for nature gives only facts 
 and things, but we have the latter conception. Your Hartley ^ 
 shows the circumstances under which these super-sensible con- 
 ceptions are called forth. His facts are denied by no one, but 
 they do not prove the conceptions to be of sensible origin, any 
 more than the warmth necessary to hatch an eg^ proves that 
 the warmth is the principle of animal life. Conceptions them- 
 selves, which are essential to all knowledge, are a priori, — and 
 not only conceptions, even intuitions, — for instance 5^ac^, which 
 is yet generally considered as a general or abstract idea (i. e. con- 
 ception). Now it is the characteristic of conception (or gen- 
 eral idea) that it includes under it many individuals, — as 
 " man " includes Jack, Tom, and Harry ; but when we think 
 of space it is always as one whole. And different places are not 
 like individual persons, — distinct beings having only common 
 qualities ; but different places are only parts of space. How, 
 then, did we come by the a priori intuition, space ] You will 
 say by abstraction ; we unite all the places we have seen, 
 imagine an infinity of others, and call the whole space. But 
 on reflection, you will find this process requires that we should 
 set out with the notion of space, though your professed object 
 is to leave oft' with it ; for how could the mind have the con- 
 sciousness, '' I am in a place," or, " This is a place," if it had 
 not already a notion of space ? I will state the example in 
 another form. You have a conception of body. Most of its 
 requisites or component parts are empirical, and all that you 
 have acquired through experience you can imagine yourself not 
 to have ; for instance, you can dismiss at will color, hardness, 
 
92 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 irresistibility, &c., but you cannot possibly think away space. 
 In like manner you will find space to be included in all our 
 intuitions of external objects, of which it is the form or con- 
 dition a- priori. In like manner, time is the formal condition, 
 or sine qua noii, of all appearances whatever, for we cannot 
 think of any thought or event which does not take place in 
 time. 
 
 As time and place — which, however general they seem, 
 must nevertheless not be considered as general ideas (to use 
 our scandalously incorrect phraseology) — are a priori intui- 
 tions grounding all a posteriori intuitions (i. e. sensations of 
 experience), so all our conceptions (or general ideas) must be 
 gi'ounded by a priori conceptions, which conceptions are 
 grounded on the nature of the human mind and its laws of 
 thinking. The philosophy which shows how these a priori 
 conceptions and intuitions are the basis of all knowledge is 
 called the Transcendental (or, if you will, the high-flying) 
 Philosophy. 
 
 H. C. R TO T. R. 
 
 1. Experience gives us the materials of knowledge, of which 
 the form lies in the mind. 
 
 2. Consciousness is the ultimate source of all our notions, 
 beyond which we cannot go, for we cannot step out of our- 
 selves. This consciousness, when the subject of our thoughts, 
 teaches us that we have a primitive productive faculty : imagi- 
 nation^ whence everything is derived ; sense, which opens to 
 us the external w^orld ; understanding, which brings to rulie 
 the objects of sense ; and further, reason, which goes beyond 
 all sense and all experience, — a faculty by which we attain 
 ideas. (You know already the difference between idea and 
 thought, &c.) 
 
 3. (And here I beg you to be very attentive, for I enter on 
 a new topic, which I have hitherto not ventured to introduce.) 
 There is in man a perpetual conflict between his reason and 
 his understanding, whence all philosophical disputes arise, 
 and which a critical investigation of the mind alone can solve. 
 These disputes are of the following nature : The reason postu- 
 lates a vast number of truths which the understanding in vain 
 strives to comprehend. Hence the antinomies of pure reason. 
 Hence it is easy to demonstrate the eternity and non-eternity 
 of the world, — the being and no-being of God, — the existence 
 and non-existence of a free principle. Kant has placed these 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 93 
 
 contradictory demonstrations in opposition, and gave, more 
 than twenty years ago, a public defiance to the whole philo- 
 sophical world to detect a flaw in either side of these contradic- 
 tory demonstrations : and no one has yet accepted the challenge. 
 And the solution of the riddle is, — 
 
 All these ideas, as ideas, have their foundation in the nature 
 of the mind, and as such we cannot shake them off. But 
 whether these ideas out of the mind have any reality what- 
 ever, the mind itself can never know ; and the result is, 
 not scei^ticism^ which is uncertainty^ hut the certainty of our 
 necessary and inevitable ignorance. And here speculative rea- 
 son has performed its task. But now a second principle is 
 started by Kant. This is practical reason, 
 
 Kant proceeds on the same experimental basis of conscious- 
 ness, and grounds all his moral philosophy on the fact that 
 we are conscious of a certain moral feeling / onght. Kant 
 will not reason with him who disputes this fact, and excludes 
 such a one from the rank of a rational and moral agent. 
 
 But the idea / ought includes in it / can ; and as specida- 
 tive reason is quite neutral on all these ultimate points of 
 absolute knowledge, practical reason on this basis, weak as it 
 seems, raises the vast structure of moral philosophy and re- 
 ligion. And the want of knowledge is supplied hy faith, but a 
 faith that is necessary, and, to an honest sound mind, ir- 
 resistible. Its objects are God, immortality, and freedom, — 
 notions which all unsophisticated minds readily embrace, 
 which a certain degree of reason destroys, but which, accord- 
 ing to Kant, reason in its consistent application shall restore 
 again to universal acceptance. 
 
 The seeming scepticism of the great results of speculative 
 reasoning is favorable to the interests of religion and morality 
 by keeping the coasts clear. I cannot, says Kant, demonstrate 
 the being of God, nor you his non-existence. But my moral 
 principle — the fact that I am conscious of a moral law — is a 
 something against which you have nothing. This, as respects 
 the first principle of morals and religion, and the reality and 
 foundation of human knowledge, is the essence of the Kantian 
 philosophy. 
 
 Of the numerous students with whom my University life 
 brought me into contact I shall not speak in detail ; but 1 
 must say something about the student life, of which exag- 
 
94 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 gerated accounts are current. In spite of the wildness and 
 even coarseness of manners too generally prevalent, and 
 though I was too advanced in age to be more than a looker-on 
 at their amusements, yet I conceived quite an affection for the 
 class. I thought I had never seen young men combining so 
 many excellences of head and heart. Nearly all the under- 
 graduates belonged to societies which were called Landsmann- 
 schaften, — these Landsmannschaften being formed of the 
 natives of separate countries or districts. Each held an oc- 
 casional festival, called a Commerz, to which it was a great 
 privilege for an outsider to be admitted. I was never present 
 at more than two. The first was with the Rheinlander, — 
 generally speaking, a warm-hearted, rough set. At these 
 meetings only beer was drunk, but there was a great deal of 
 smoking. There was, however, no excess to signify. Many 
 Burschenlieder (student songs) were sung, some earnest, others 
 jocular ; but a gross song I never heard from a student, either 
 here or elsewhere. Among the frequent practices was that of 
 SchmoUis trinken, which consisted in knocking glasses together, 
 drinking healths, and kissing each other. After this the parties 
 became Dutzbruder, — that is, instead of greeting each other 
 in the ordinary way by the third person plural, they made use 
 of " thou " ; and it was a legitimate cause of duel if, after 
 Schmollis trinken, " Sie " was used instead of " Du." As I 
 had drunk with scores of these Rheinlander, I used, in order 
 to avoid all occasion of quarrel, when I met any one of them 
 to say, " Wie gehts '? " (How does it go 1) instead of " How do 
 you do '^ " which might be expressed in two ways. The only 
 other grand Commerz which I attended was with the Curlan- 
 der. A Garland nobleman, a very young man, brought with 
 him to the chief inn of Jena, where he stayed two days, an 
 English lady, whom he represented as his wife. He had 
 among the students personal friends, whom he invited to his 
 He was said to be a lieutenant-colonel in the Ensflish 
 
 mn 
 
 service ; at all events he was an Englishman in heart, had the 
 Anglomania in the highest degree, and for this reason invited 
 me to join his party. His companion was young and very 
 pretty, and as wild as a colt ; and as she knew no language 
 but English, she constantly applied to me to interpret the 
 cause of the merriment which was going on, — no slight task. 
 In honor of this gentleman a grand Commerz was given, which 
 made me intimate with the Curland body. 
 
 It is a remarkable circumstance that the two bodies of 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 95 
 
 students most opposed to each other in appearance and man- 
 ners were both subjects of the Russian Empire, — the Lieflan- 
 der* and the Curlander. 
 
 The former were the petits maitres, — they dressed more 
 smartly than any others, and were remarkably precise in their 
 speech. Their German was said to be ultra-correct. The 
 Curlander were the heartiest and most generous of youths, 
 not superior in ability or scholarship, but among the most 
 amiable. I find among my memoranda thirty-three Stamm- 
 blatter (album-leaves) of engraved and ornamented paper 
 signed by Curhinder alone. It is the practice of students on 
 leaving the University to exchange these tokens of remem- 
 brance. Those to which I have referred have revived tender 
 feelings, but on looking over them I feel the truth and force of 
 the words which fell from Madame de Stael on one occasion 
 when I was with her. Goethe's son, a lad, called on her and 
 presented to her his Stammbuch. When she had bowed him 
 out of the room she threw the book on the sofa, and exclaimed, 
 *' Je n'aime pas ces tables mortuaires ! " Mortuary tables 
 indeed they are. On one of those which I possess is written, 
 *' I shall never forget you, and I expect the same from you." 
 But not even this memorial brings the writer to my mind. 
 
 An account of a German University would be very imperfect 
 without some mention of duels, which, from the great exaggera- 
 tions generally circulated, have brought more reproach than is 
 deserved. Generally speaking, they are harmless. Very few in- 
 deed are the instances in which they are fatal, and not often is 
 any serious injury inflicted. I knew of only one case of the 
 kind ; it was that of a student who had received a wound in 
 the breast, from which he said he should never cease to feel 
 the effects. 
 
 Schelling said from the rostrum, " He that dares not boldly 
 on occasion set his life at stake and play with it as with a top, 
 is unquestionably one who is by nature unable to enjoy it, or 
 even possess it in its highest vigor," — a hint which it is true 
 was not wanted here, as in the course of the last six months 
 near a hundred duels were fought. 
 
 At Jena the weapon used was the rapier, which with its 
 three edges has certainly a murderous appearance ; but honor 
 is satisfied if a triangle appears in the flesh ; a very slight wound 
 is sufficient for that, and great care is taken that nothing more 
 serious shall be inflicted. The combatants, are made to stand 
 
 * From Liefland or Llvland, Livonia. 
 
96 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 at a distance from each other, and two seconds lie on the 
 ground with sticks to interpose the moment their principals 
 
 C 
 
 press too near. Thus A — 
 
 B, A and B are the duellists, 
 
 D 
 
 and C D the seconds, who beat down the swords when a wound 
 is likely to be dangerous. In ninety-nine cases out of a hun- 
 dred a flesh wound on the arm is all that is given. As the 
 issue is usually so unimportant, a very slight offence is con- 
 sidered a sufficient cause for fighting. There is a code of honor 
 among the students which might be derived from Touchstone's 
 famous code as to giving the lie. For instance, if A says of 
 anything that B says, " Das ist comisch " (that is comical) — 
 that is a Touche — an offence — which B must notice, or A 
 has the "' advantage " [Avantage) of him. Or if A says, ^* It 's 
 a fine day, upon my honor," and B says, '' Upon my honor it 's 
 a dull day," — that 's a Touche, for here the honor of one of 
 two Burschen is in imminent peril. But it is not to be sup^ 
 posed that a fight can take place per saltum. Wherever a 
 Touche has been received, the party sends his friend to the op- 
 ponent's room with a Ziegenhainer (a stick cut from a neighbor- 
 ing wood),* who, without pulling off his hat, asks Avhat was 
 meant. If the supposed offender says, " I meant nothing," or 
 *' No offence was intended," the affair is over ; but a Bursch 
 who is jealous of his honor, though he actually did mean 
 nothing, is ashamed to say so, and then the usual answer is, 
 " He may take it as he likes." Thereupon the second says, 
 " A desires me to tell you that you are a dummer Junge, or a 
 dummer Kerl " ; that is, " You are an ass or a fool," or, as we 
 should say in England, " You are no gentleman." This is the 
 offence which blood alone can redress. But then, as I said be- 
 fore, it is only arm blood, not heart's blood. During my stay 
 at Jena, it never happened but once that a man came to my 
 rooms with a Ziegenhainer. The student who came was a 
 sensible fellow, who volunteered in order to prevent a silly 
 young fellow sending as great a fool as himself The messen- 
 ger threw down his stick and his hat, and burst out laughing ; 
 but very gravely took back my answer that I meant nothing. 
 The sender was a young Hessian nobleman, and from that 
 time I refused to speak to him. 
 
 * This wood, Ziegenhain, was celebrated for the knotted sticks cut from a 
 kindof chen-v-tree (Corneliuskirschen). , . 
 
1802.] GERMANY. 97 
 
 On one occasion I was myself present when, in a beautiful 
 and romantic valley a few miles from Jena, some half-dozen 
 duels were fought with due solemnity, including one interme- 
 diate duel, which arose in this way : A wound having been 
 received, one of the seconds cried out, '' A triangle, on my 
 honor." " No triangle, on my honor," answered the other. On 
 this, the seconds, sam phrase, stripped and fought, and the 
 result being in favor of him who said, " A triangle," his view 
 of the matter was held to be established, and all four became 
 as good friends as ever. It is to be understood that in these 
 cases the parties still consider each other friends, though eti- 
 quette does not allow^ intercourse between them till the Ehren- 
 sache (affair of honor) is decided. 
 
 To connect great matters with small, as we constantly find 
 them in human life, these duels in the Rauhthal had eventu- 
 ally a mighty effect on the fate of Europe. For in the fa- 
 mous campaign of 1806, Buonaparte having heard that there 
 was a colonel in his army w4io had been a student at Jena, 
 and foreseeing that Jena would be the seat of war, sent for 
 him ; and he rendered most important service. Buonaparte 
 held the town, and on the high ground between it and Weimar 
 was the Prussian army. The colonel led the troops through 
 the Rauhthal, which he probably became acquainted with from 
 fighting or witnessing duels there. The Prussians were taken 
 in the rear, and this movement contributed to a victory which 
 for six years kept Germany in subjection to France. 
 
 During my stay at Jena I had the opportunity of seeing a 
 man of science whose name I have never heard in England, 
 but who is mentioned with honor in the " Conversations Lex- 
 icon," — Chladni, the inventor of a musical instrument called 
 the Clavi-cylinder, and the author of a work on the theory of 
 sound.* He travelled in Germany, Italy, and France in order 
 to make known both his instrument and his theory. All I 
 recollect is some curious experiments intended to show the re- 
 lation between vibration and form. A plate of glass was thin- 
 ly strewn with sand, the string of a fiddlestick was drawn 
 across the side of the plate, and instantly the sand flew to 
 certain parts, forming fig-ures which had been previously de- 
 scribed. 
 
 * His name is repeatedly mentioned in Professor Tyndall's work *' Oi> 
 Sound," where this very experiment is referred to. 
 
 VOL. I. 5 O 
 
98 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON- [Chap. 7. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GERMANY. 
 
 1803. 
 
 ON March 20, 1803, I attended the first performance of 
 Schiller's tragedy of " Die Braut von Messina." A visit 
 to the Weimar Theatre was the occasional treat of the Jena 
 students. The distance (from seven to ten miles) was such as 
 to allow those young men w^ho had more strength in their 
 limbs than money in their purses, to walk to Weimar and 
 back on the same day. This I have done repeatedly, return- 
 ing after the play was over. " The Bride of Messina " was an 
 experiment by the great dramatist, and it certainly did not 
 succeed, inasmuch as it led to no imitations, unless the repre- 
 sentations of " Antigone " a few years since, both in Germany 
 and England, may be traced to it. In this tragedy Schiller 
 introduced choruses, after the fashion of the ancients. The 
 bride had two lovers, who were he^- brothers; the catas 
 trophe is as frightful as the incidents are horrible. The double 
 chorus sometimes exchanged short epigrammatic speeches, and 
 sometimes uttered tragic declamations in lyric measure. I was 
 deeply impressed, and wrote to my brother that this tragedy 
 surpassed all Schiller's former works. But this feeling must 
 have been caught from my companions, for it did not remain. 
 It must, too, have been about this time that Goethe brought 
 out one of the most beautiful, though not the most popular, 
 of his dramas, " The Natural Daughter," — a play meant to be 
 the first of three in which he was to give a poetic view of his 
 own ideas on the great social questions of the day. Eugenia, 
 the well-born, is condemned to make an ignoble marriage for 
 reasons which are left unexplained ; otherwise she is to be 
 consigned to a barren rock. The lawyer to whom she is to be 
 married is represented as a worthy man, whom she respects. 
 When she gives her consent, she exacts from him a promise 
 that he will leave her mistress of her actions, and not intrude 
 on her solitude. With her words, " To the altar," the curtain 
 drops. Herder professed a high admiration of the piece, but 
 it is utterly unfit for a large audience. The character of Eu- 
 genia was beautifully represented by Jagermann, who combined 
 dignity and grace. On my complimenting her on the per- 
 
1803.] GERMANY. 99 
 
 formance she said, ^' If I played the part well it was by chance, 
 for I do not understand the character." 
 
 She would not have said this of another character in which 
 I beheld her, though I do not precisely recollect at what 
 time. I refer to Schiller's " Jungfrau von Orleans," which 
 came out in 1801. A glorious work ! It was well remarked 
 by Hofrath Jung of Mainz, that the characteristics of French 
 and German literature were well exemplified by the name and 
 the quality of the " Virgin of Orleans " by Schiller and '^ La 
 Pucelle d' Orleans " by Voltaire. Jagermann recited with great 
 effect the lyrical passages, both when the inspiration seizes 
 Joan, and the heroic conclusion. I suppose it is because the 
 English make such a bad fig-ure in this tragedy that it has 
 never been introduced on our own stage. 
 
 One other dramatic recollection I may mention. I saw at 
 Weimar Lessing's " Nathan der Weise." The author pro- 
 nounced a blessing on the town which should first dare to 
 exhibit it to the world. He thought the lesson of tolerance 
 would not be learned for generations. The play was adapted 
 to the stage by Schiller, and the greatest actor of the day 
 came to Weimar to perform the part of Nathan. Never 
 probably, in any language, was the noble and benignant Jew 
 more impressively represented than by Iffland. But the work 
 has no dramatic worth. AU one recollects of it is the tale of 
 the rings, which was borrowed from Boccaccio. 
 
 I went to Weimar twice in the beginning of 1803, to visit 
 Herder. What I had previously seen of him made me feel 
 that in spite of his eminence there were many points of agTce- 
 ment in matters of taste and sentiment, and caused me to 
 approach him w4th affection as well as fear. I lent him 
 Wordsworth's " Lyrical Ballads," my love for which was in no 
 respect diminished by my attachment to the German school 
 of poetry. I found that Herder agreed with Wordsworth as 
 to poetical language. Indeed Wordsworth's notions on that 
 subject are quite German. There was also a general sympathy 
 between the two in matters of morality and rehgion. Herder 
 manifested a strong feeling of antipathy to the new anti- 
 supernatm-al school of Paulus. With all his habitual toler- 
 ance, he could hardly bear with the Jena professor, or with 
 the government which permitted such latitudinarianism. Yet 
 he was attached to Wieland personally, who was certainly no 
 Christian. Herder was also tolerant towards anti-Christian 
 writers of past generations. He was a warm admirer of 
 
 ■ 
 
 LOFC. 
 
100 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 Shaftesbury, of whom the worst he had to say was that he 
 wTote like a lord. His repugnance to some of Goethe's writ- 
 ings was perhaps still stronger than to those of Paulus ; and he 
 reprobated with especial warmth " Die Braat von Corinth," 
 and " Der Gott und die Bajadere." Though in some respects 
 the anti-supernatural professor w^as as opposite as possible to 
 the poetic and anti-metaphysical divine, yet they were in 
 sympathy in their hostility to the modern German philosophy 
 of the Kantian and post-Kantian schools. 
 
 Of Paulus I myself had some personal knowledge. Not- 
 withstanding his well-known opinions, he was one of the regu- 
 lar theological professors and members of the senate in the 
 University of Jena. In the following year he was invited 
 by the Catholic King of Bavaria to the University of Wiirz- 
 burg. No wonder, it may be thought, for that would be an 
 effectual mode of damaging the Protestant Church. But he 
 did not long remain under a Roman Catholic government, for 
 he was soon called to occupy a high place in the University of 
 Heidelberg. He was a laborious scholar and a very efficient 
 teacher, and always respected for his zeal and activity. Dur- 
 ing the present session he lectured on the Epistles of St. Paul, 
 and on Dogmatic Theology, and held every Saturday a theo- 
 logical conversation. I went one day as a visitor to hear his 
 lecture, and having already received some kindness from 
 him, ventured to call on him afterwards, when the following 
 conversation took place. Referring to the lecture I had heard, 
 I said, ^' Herr Geheimer-Kirchen-Rath (Mr. Privy-Church- 
 Counsellor), will you oblige me by telling me whether I heard 
 you rightly in a remark I understood you to make 1 It was 
 this, that a man might altogether disbelieve in miracle, and 
 of course all prophecy and inspiration, and yet be a Christian." 
 His answer I distinctly recollect : ^' Don't imagine, Mr. Robin- 
 son, that I mean anything personally disrespectful when I say 
 that that seems to me a foolish question (eine dumme Frage)." 
 — " How 1 Is that possible T' — " Why, it implies that Chris- 
 tianity may have something to do with inspiration, with pro- 
 phecy, or with miracle ; but it has nothing to do with them. 
 (Es hat nichts damit zu thun.) " 
 
 Paulus, when a young man, visited England, and had cor- 
 responded with Geddes. He also told me that he saw Dr. 
 Parr, and had received letters from several of the bishops ; 
 but he said : *^ Your English theologians did not much please 
 me. I found but one man who really interested me, and him 
 
1803.] GERMANY. 101 
 
 I consider one of the most excellent men I ever saw. This 
 was Robert Robinson of Cambridge ; with me he is the bean- 
 ideal of a Christian minister.* I loved him even for his 
 weaknesses. With all his peculiarities, he was thoroughly 
 liberal. In his attachment to the Baptists there was a union 
 of childlike simplicity and kind-heartedness that was quite 
 charming." Paulus spoke of Priestley as superstitious. 
 
 Griesbach, the famous biblical scholar, was an older and 
 soberer man ; I visited him in his garden-house, but have re- 
 tained no particulars of his conversation. 
 
 Among those who held the office of Doctor docens at Jena was 
 one Kilian, who wrote as well as lectured on a system of med- 
 icine. The proof-sheet of the preface was shown me, from 
 which I extracted a sentence to this effect : •' The science of 
 medicine does not exist in order to cure diseases, but there are 
 diseases in order that there should be a science of medicine." 
 In the same book I was shown some verbal corrections made 
 by himself Wherever he had written *' God " he struck it out 
 and substituted " The Absolute." 
 
 Living at Jena, but neither as professor nor student, was 
 Gries, who afterwards acquired reputation as the best transla- 
 tor in rhyme of the romantic poets. He was chiefly known by 
 his versions of Ariosto and Tasso, but he also translated from 
 the great Spanish dramatist Calderon. 
 
 On the 4th of April I closed my academical term by setting 
 out student-fashion on a walking expedition, and had between 
 three and four weeks of high enjoyment ; for which, indeed, 
 nothing was requisite but health, spirits, and good-humor, all 
 of which I possessed in abundance. I determined to take the 
 opportunity of visiting Berlin, and on my way passed through 
 the University towns of Halle and Wittenberg. The latter is 
 known to every one as the place whence Luther promulgated 
 the Reformation. The town, however, with its sunken Uni- 
 versity, was disappointing ; but I still retain a recollection of 
 the portraits of Luther and Melanchthon. Both of them lived 
 and preached and are buried here. Their monuments are very 
 simple, — merely a brass plate on the ground with the common 
 inscription of dates, and the two full-length portraits. The 
 acute and sarcastic countenance of the one, and the bull-like 
 head of the other, are strikingly contrasted. Mildness is the 
 recorded virtue of Melanchthon ; but had subtletv and craft 
 
 * Robinsoniana by H. C. R., will be referred to in a later part of this 
 work. 
 
102 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 been his qualities, I should have thought the portrait expressed 
 them. 
 
 Berlin, as a city, gave me little pleasure. A city in which 
 the sovereign prince applies the revenues of the state to the 
 erection of opera-houses and palaces has never been an agree- 
 able object in my eyes. I hastened on my arrival to deliver a 
 letter of introduction to one of the Berlin notabilities, and in- 
 deed one of the remarkable men of the day. He is entitled to 
 a grateful notice from me for his generous hospitality ; and 
 what I have to say will not be altogether insignificant as illus- 
 trative of character. No one who has paid any attention to 
 the German literature of the eighteenth century can be igno- 
 rant of the name of Frederick Nicolai, the Berlin piiblisher. 
 And those who know of him merely as the object of the 
 satires of Goethe and Schiller, Tieck and the Schlegels, — that 
 is, of the most splendid writers in Germany, — may be excused 
 if they think of him as little better than an ass. But as he 
 would have greatly erred who took his notion of Colley Gibber 
 from Pope's ^' Dunciad," so would they who fancied Nicolai to 
 be the arch Philistine of the authors of the ^^Xenien." The 
 fact is, that Nicolai was really a meritorious and useful man 
 in his younger days ; but he lived too long. He was neither 
 more nor less than an active, clever fellow, — full of enterprise 
 in the pursuit of inferior objects which he attained, but desti- 
 tute of all sense of the higher and nobler ends of science and 
 literature. When I visited him he was in his seventieth year. 
 He had been brought up by his father to the bookselling busi- 
 ness, and had received a learned education. Early in life he 
 became the friend of Lessing — the most honored name of that 
 age — and of Moses Mendelssohn. In 1765 he established the 
 famous Allgemeine Deutsche Bihliothek (Universal German Li- 
 brary), a review which was as important in its day as, for so 
 many years, our Monthly Review was. But what that Review 
 now appears to be in comparison with the Edinhurghy the 
 Quarterly, and some others of a subsequent period, such is 
 the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek comipSiYed with numerous 
 works of the modern German schools. When Lessing was 
 gone, Nicolai could not engage men of equal rank to supply 
 his place, and, unable to discern the signs of the times, became 
 the strenuous opponent of the moderns. When age and youth 
 commence a warfare, which is to last, every one knows which 
 will be the conqueror. '' Denn der Lebende hat recht," says 
 Schiller (^' For he who lives is in the right"). Now it unfortu- 
 
 II 
 
1803 J GERMANY. 103 
 
 nately happened that Nicolai ventured to oppose himself — 
 and that in the very offensive form of coarse satire — to the 
 two great schools of philosophy and poetry ; of philosophy in 
 the persons of Kant and Fichte, and of poetry in the person of 
 Goethe. In a novel entitled ^^ Leben und Meinungen Sem- 
 pronius Gundiberts," which he gave me, the hero is a sort of 
 metaphysical Quixote, who, on Kantian principles, acts like a 
 fool. Nicolai's best book, '' Sebaldus Nothanker," was trans- 
 lated into English by Dutton. Nicolai also brought out a 
 squib against the " Sorrows of Werter,'' when at the height of 
 popularity, and called it " Werter's Joys." Werter's pistol- 
 shot only wounds him, — he recovers, marries Charlotte, and 
 sustains the most disgraceful calamity that can befall a hus- 
 band. Many years affcerwads Nicolai wrote a clever play, in 
 which Kotzebue's " Stranger" and the hero of Goethe's *' Stel- 
 la " are made to be the same, and the Stranger is represented 
 as compromising with his wife, receiving her back on condition 
 of her living with him in partnership with Stella. Such was 
 the Berlin publisher who attained a kind of literary notoriety. 
 I did not approach him with awe, but I found him a most 
 lively, active, and friendly man. His conversation was with- 
 out bitterness. I told him of my fondness for some of the 
 objects of his satire, which did not seem to displease him. He 
 was still editor of a periodical, a small insignificant monthly 
 magazine, entitled Neue Berliner Monatschrift. A number, 
 which he placed in my hands contained a very foolish paper 
 on the opinions of the English respecting the Germans, — full 
 of absurd, vulgar falsehoods about the English, such as that 
 they can sell their wives according to law by taking them to 
 market with a rope round their necks, &c. Nicolai said, 
 " Write me word what you think of it" ; and so I did. It was 
 my amusement on my return to Jena ; and I own I was 
 pleased to find, on receiving a parcel from Berlin, that my an- 
 swer was printed in full without corrections, and with a com- 
 plimentary preface by the editor. 
 
 While at Berlin I paid a visit to the Deaf and Dumb Insti- 
 tution. Some of the pupils evinced so much perception, that 
 I might have supposed the deafness feigned if there had been 
 any motive for deception. They are not all dumb, for many 
 of them, by imitating certain movements of the lips and tongue, 
 can produce sounds which they themselves do not hear, and 
 thus make themselves understood. In the dark, the pupils 
 write on each other's backs and feel the words. I observed 
 
104 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 that one young man did not understand me so well as he 
 did others. The preceptor said my foreign manner was puz- 
 zling. 
 
 Next day I met a pupil in the street, who smiled and took 
 me by the hand, when this dialogue took place : I said, " Which 
 
 is the way to St. 's Church 1 " He made a flourish in the 
 
 air with his hands, in imitation of a cupola with a spire above. 
 It was the form of the church. I nodded assent. He pointed 
 to a street, and stretching out his right arm, struck it twice, 
 with his left hand ; then for the outstretched right arm substi- 
 tuted the left, and finished by one stroke on the left arm with 
 the right hand. So that I at once understood that I had to 
 take the second turning to the right, and the first to the left. 
 Nothing could be clearer or more correct. I shook hands with 
 him at parting, and he appeared delighted at his success in 
 rendering me this little service. 
 
 I thought the Opera-house very splendid. I saw there 
 " The Island of Spirits," founded on Shakespeare's " Tempest," 
 with a skilful omission of everything beyond the story that 
 could recall the great draniatist to the mind. Prospero's char- 
 acter was ruined by his appearing to be dependent on a spirit 
 floating in the clouds, whose aid he implores ; and Caliban was 
 a sort of clown, unmercifully thrashed as the clown is in our 
 pantomimes. I saw also a comic vaudeville, with jokes of a 
 bolder character than I should have expected. A dispute 
 arises about geography, and an old map being brought, the 
 remark that Germany and Poland are terribly torn was warmly 
 applauded. I saw Iffland in a sentimental melodrama by Kot- 
 zebue, — " The Hussites before Naumburg." He charmed me 
 by his tender and dignified representation of an old man. 
 
 The only occurrence on my way back to Jena worth noting 
 took place at the little town of Altenburg, where I was asked 
 at the inn whether I would not call on Anton Wall. Now 
 Anton W^all was the nam de guerre of a writer of romances, in 
 which he availed himself of Oriental imagery and machinery 
 with humor and grace. Especially had his " Amatonda " 
 pleased me.* It is considered not an intrusion, but a compli- 
 ment, at all events by the minor writers, when a traveller calls 
 on an author. The singular habits of Anton Wall might ren- 
 der such a visit peculiarly acceptable ; for, though he did not 
 pretend to be ill, he had literally taken to his bed, and there 
 
 * Afterwards translated by H. C. R. Anton Wall is the noni de guerre of 
 Christian Leberecht Hevne. 
 
1803.] 
 
 GERMANY. 
 
 105 
 
 in a garret had lived for years. He had his books near, and 
 dreamed away his time, writing occasionally. I introduced 
 myself as an Englishman, and he was evidently flattered by 
 finding himself known to an Englishman. He inquired which 
 of his books I had read, and when T said " Amatonda," he told 
 me that the poetical brother was intended for Jean Paul. This 
 tale relates how a magician, dying, tells his three nephews 
 that the only way to secure happiness is by finding the fairy 
 Amatonda ; but he dies without keeping his promise to any 
 one of the three, that he would tell them where she is to be 
 found. The two elder brothers set out in search of her. The 
 eldest fancies she must be glory, and becomes a warrior and 
 statesman ; but adversity overtakes him, and in old age he 
 returns to his uncle's hoTise a cripple and in poverty. On his 
 way back he fails in with the second brother, who had pursued 
 the fairy in literary fame, and was equally unsuccessful and 
 wretched. They find the third brother at home with a wife 
 and children, and in the enjoyment of the happiness of which 
 they had gone forth in search. He said to them, " 1 did not 
 think it worth while to go out of my way in pursuit of the 
 fairy ; but she might come to me, if she liked, and she did 
 come. She made her appearance to announce that the true 
 Amatonda is a good wife." With Anton Wall I had a long 
 chat. He was remarkably clean in his person, and there was 
 an air of neatness and comfort in his apartment, which itself, 
 though a garret, was spacious. He himself was a compound 
 of kindliness and vanity. It was thought he was rather crazy, 
 but he was universally liked. He was fond of giving treats to 
 little children ; and girls used to come to him to receive les- 
 sons. In announcing his " Bagatellen," Schlegel in his Athe- 
 noeiim says, " These are genuine ' Bagatellen,' and that is not a 
 trifle," — a compliment which Anton Wall heard from me with 
 satisfaction. 
 
 I commenced my second session at the University of Jena 
 much more auspiciously than the first. My position was very 
 much improved, and I was in excellent health and spirits. As 
 to my studies, I determined to endeavor to make up for my 
 want of an early grammar-school education. It is not without 
 a feeling of melancholy that I recollect the long list of Greek 
 and Latin authors whom I read during the next two years.* 
 That I never mastered the Greek language is certain ; but I 
 am unwilling to suppose that I did not gain some nisight mtc 
 
 * The list includes the principal authors in both laiifrun^es. 
 5* ^' ^' 
 
106 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 the genius of Greek poetry, especially in its connection with 
 philosophy.* 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother. 
 
 Jena, June 2, 1803. 
 
 Dear Thomas : — 
 
 ..... I have changed my lodgings, and have at present one 
 of the best in the town. My sitting-room has four sash-windows 
 opening into a beautifid w^alk of lime-trees, and affording a fine 
 hilly prospect. Now, too, that spring is come, I find Jena one 
 of the most beautiful spots I ever dwelt in. It stands in the 
 centre of a valley of more than fifteen miles along the Saale, 
 which in its course has many a picturesque winding, and passes 
 through many pleasing villages. I have likewise remarked in 
 myself two very happy changes. The one is that I can amuse 
 myself without suffering ennui in mixed society, and that I 
 have lost that eager thirst after new books which is rather a 
 disease than a passion. I can now take a walk without a book 
 in my pocket, and can be at ease if I do not find on my desk a 
 new, unread publication.f .... 
 
 I have introduced among the students games at leap-frog 
 and jumping over ditches ; and I attribute much of my well- 
 being now to these bodily exercises. In short, I am without 
 care and very lively, and withal by no means idle. I write 
 or study attentively eight hours every day. 
 
 Notwithstanding my study of the ancient languages,^ I at- 
 tended a course of lectures by Schelling on methodology ; and 
 I fancied I had a glimpse of light every now and then. He 
 pointed out the relation of the several sciences to one another^ 
 but dwelt chiefly on religion and jurisprudence, and said but 
 little of the physical sciences. I will insert here a recollec- 
 tion, which seems to me important, and the accuracy of which 
 was corroborated by one who ranks among those who have 
 advanced the philosophy of science, and especially in connec- 
 tion with magnetism : I refer to Dr. Neeff. Schelling said : 
 " We are accustomed to consider magnetism, electricity, and 
 galvanism three distinct sciences ; and in a certain sense they 
 are, inasmuch as the facts belonging to them are arranged in 
 three classes. But in truth the magnetic, electric, and gal- 
 
 * Private lessons from an old student cost me three dollars six groschen for 
 two months. 
 
 t At all events during the last forty years of his life, Mr. Robinson never tools 
 a walk without a book in his. pocket. 
 
1803.] GERMANY. 107 
 
 vanic powers are only various forms of the same thing ; and 
 before many years have elapsed some experimental naturalist 
 will come forward and exhibit visible proofs of this fact." * 
 
 I kept up my acquaintance with Schelling by occasionally 
 calling on him ; and, during one of my visits, I ventured to 
 remonstrate with him on the contemptuous language he used 
 respecting our great English authors, even Bacon and Newton. 
 He gave the best turn he could to the subject by saying, 
 " Because they are so dangerous. The English empiricists are 
 more consistent than the French." (I doubt this, by the by, 
 so far as Locke is concerned.) ^' There is Bacon, a man of 
 vast talents, but a most mischievous philosopher. He and 
 Newton may be regarded as the great enemies and destroyers 
 of philosophy in modern times. But," he added, "it is no 
 small matter to be able to do so much harm." 
 
 The name of Voss will have a lasting place in the history 
 of German literature. He is known and prized as the greatest 
 of German translators from the Greek. Especially is his 
 " Homer " considered a masterpiece. To this he owes his fame. 
 The one drawback on his good name is the acrimony of his 
 polemical writings. He was an elderly man at the time I was 
 introduced to him, — in his person tall and thin, with a sharp 
 nose, and a sort of lanky figure, — a compound of subtlety 
 and naivete. He w^as living retired and quite domesticated. 
 He was the son of a Mecklenburg peasant, and used to be 
 called a " gelehrter Bauer " (a learned peasant). To this cir- 
 cumstance some ascribed the absence of good manners in con- 
 troversy : but I would rather ascribe a great portion of it to 
 his intense conscientiousness. He was a rigidly virtuous man, 
 and a Protestant ; and seemed hardly able to tolerate any de- 
 parture from w^hat he thought right and true. Roman Ca- 
 tholicism he called Jesuitism. When his noble friends, the 
 Counts Stolberg, whom in his youth he must have deemed it 
 a high honor to know, went over to the Eoman Catholic 
 Church, he treated the change as if it were hardly short of a 
 crime. Nor was he much better able to bear difference of 
 
 * '*In 1812 Oersted went to Germany, and whilst there he wrote his essay 
 on the Identity of Chemical and Electrical Forces, thus laying the foundation 
 for the subsequent identification of the forces of magnetism, electricity, and 
 galvanism. In 1819 he made the announcement of his great discovery of the 
 intimate relation existing between magnetism and electricity." — Eng. Cyclop.^ 
 Article " Oersted." " Faraday read liis first paper on Magiieto-electric Induc- 
 tion before the Royal Society on tlie 24tli November, 1831 " ; ''his paper on 
 Identity of Electricities on January 10th and 17th, 1833, also before the Royal 
 Society." — Faraday as a Discovtrer^ by John Tjmdall. 
 
108 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 opinion on matters of taste. Hence his furious disputes with 
 Heyne, the learned Gottinger, and (but that was later) with 
 Creuzer, the mythologist. The latter explained the Greek 
 and Roman mythology, as Voss thought, mystically. I was 
 quite unable to make him see the beauty of Dry den's exquis- 
 ite translations from Horace, — such as the ** Ode on For- 
 tune." Indeed, his love of English literature was nearly con- 
 fined to Shakespeare and Milton, of both of whom he always 
 spoke in high admiration. And he affirmed that Milton might, 
 had he pleased, have successfully introduced hexameters into 
 English poetry. 
 
 Voss's " Louisa " is the rival of " Hermann und Dorothea," 
 and has perhaps more admirers. He is delicate in his descrip- 
 tions, and paints and describes nothing but the simple, the no- 
 ble, the modest, and the good. But this turn of mind^ which 
 prevents his being a great poet, makes him one of the best 
 men imaginable. 
 
 It was understood that Voss's time for receiving callers was 
 after supper, and I frequently availed myself of the opportu- 
 nity of seeing him. For, with all his infirmities of temper 
 and his narrowness, there was in him an integrity, a simplici- 
 ty, a purity, which placed him in the very first class of men 
 combining great mental power with the highest moral quali- 
 ties ; and it was no slight merit in my eyes, that he loved 
 Goethe and Wieland, notwithstanding the extreme diff'erence 
 between his literary tastes and theirs. 
 
 I once saw at the house of Voss the accomplished scholar 
 Wolf, who had in Germany, in my time, as high a reputation 
 as at the same time Porson had in England. Wolf's com- 
 manding person and figure of themselves attracted attention to 
 him. His friendship with Voss was cemented by their united 
 opposition to Heyne. Voss told me that he and Wolf used to 
 dispute which owed most to Heyne. Both had been his pupils ; 
 one had subscribed to two courses of lectures, and heard a 
 single lecture, — the other had subscribed to only one course, 
 and had heard three lectures. Voss's attachment to Wolf may 
 be regarded as a great and rare act of liberality, seeing that 
 he altogether dissented from Wolf's theory concerning Homer. 
 Voss used to say, '' It would be a greater miracle had there been 
 many Homers, than it is that there was one." On the other 
 hand, Goethe has an epigram in which he gives the health of 
 him who freed the poets from the tyranny of the single-one, 
 with whom no one would dare to contend ; " but to be one of 
 
 < 
 
1S03.] GERMANY. 109 
 
 the Homeridee is beautiful." This he said in allusion to his 
 own " Achilleis," a continuation of the " Iliad." 
 
 Wolf frequently said good things. I heard Yoss relate this 
 mot of his against Meiners. He quoted some Latin book of 
 Meiners/ " Minertis de," &c., and remarked it would have been 
 better if the learned professor had written " Minertii de," but 
 he always through life thought proper to decline himself ac- 
 cording to iners. 
 
 When Madame de Stael came to Weimar, Yoss was told 
 that she wished to see him. He coolly replied that she might 
 come. But she would have been sadly perplexed if she had 
 taken him at his w^ord ; for he would not have spoken French 
 to her. He was indignant at the homage paid to foreigners 
 by speaking their language. " I should think it my duty," 
 he said, *Ho learn French before I went to France. The 
 French should do the same." 
 
 Out of his own peculiar line of philological and archaeologi- 
 cal study, he was not a man of great acuteness. When his 
 poetical works were reviewed by Goethe in the Jena Liter a- 
 rische Zeitung, I was afraid he would take offence at what 
 seemed to me some awkward compliments. For example, 
 *' While other poets raise to themselves the objects they de- 
 scribe, our amiable author descends to their level and becomes 
 one of them." Goethe was speaking of* the Idyllists, the 
 class to whom Yoss belonged. But my apprehension proved 
 to be groundless. Goethe praised affectionately, picking out 
 excellences and passing over defects, after his fashion, and 
 Yoss was well pleased. His "Louisa" is certainly a master- 
 piece, though I cannot but think Wordsworth greatly mis- 
 taken in prizing it more highly than ''Hermann und 
 Dorothea." 
 
 In the same house I once met the famous philosopher 
 Frederick Jacobi, w^ith whose personal dignity and beauty I 
 was much struck. He was, take him for all in all, one of the 
 handsomest men I ever saw. He was greatly respected. I 
 should have said universally, but for the odium he incurred 
 from the Romanist party. 
 
 He spoke with great respect of my friend Fries, and said, 
 " If he be a Kantianer, so am L" Jacobi is at the head of a 
 school of thought which has attracted men of feeling and 
 imagination, but which men of a dry and logical turn have 
 considered a corruption of philosophy. Yet opposed as he 
 was to the critical philosophy on account of its dryness, and 
 
110 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 to the poets for their supposed want of religion, he was to no- 
 one's taste precisely. Some accused him of intolerance. But 
 I believe it lay in his warm style, rather than in his heart. 
 Goethe, however, seemed never to be quite reconciled to his 
 way of showing religious zeal. 
 
 At the beginning of session 1803-4, the list of Jena pro- 
 fessors showed a serious loss, no less than seven having left, 
 including Schelling, Tennemann, Paulus, and Hufeland, a dis- 
 tinguished jurist. But another loss, which soon followed, 
 affected me personally still more. It arose out of the New 
 Year festivities. 
 
 It is a custom at Jena, as at other German Universities, to 
 celebrate the New Year by a midnight frolic. The Burschen 
 assemble in the market-place, and, when the town-clock strikes 
 twelve, they shout a pereat to the Old Year, and a vivat to the 
 New. Like base and disgraceful sycophants, they forget the 
 good and exaggerate the evil the departed year may have 
 brought, and dismiss it without ceremony to the shades. 
 They then hail the new-comer with the complimentary saluta- 
 tion, " Das neue Jahr soil leben ! " — as we should say, " The 
 New Year forever ! " Squibs and crackers frequently accom- 
 pany this celebration. Now it is obvious that the darkness 
 of night and the excitement arising from the Commerze which 
 have probably taken? place are not unlikely to lead to more or 
 less rioting, especially if during the year offence have been 
 given to influential Burschen. The previous year about thirty 
 houses had their windows broken without resistance, or subse- 
 quent notice by the authorities. On the present occasion I 
 did not anticipate any disturbance, and therefore, after sup- 
 ping with the Curlander, retired to my rooms before the stroke 
 of the clock. Unluckily, however, a tradesman had given 
 offence by sending a girl to Bridewell, and a body of students 
 showed their displeasure by breaking a few panes of glass at 
 his hotise. In an instant a number of hussars appeared, and 
 a skirmish arose, in which the students, few in number, and 
 these few more or less intoxicated, were driven out of the 
 market-place. The cry resounded, " Bursch heraus 1 " like 
 the cry of " Gown against Town " at Cambridge, and the stu- 
 dents came again into the field. The Prorector, who corre- 
 sponds to the Cambridge Vice-Chancellor, was called up, and 
 the demand was made that a wounded student who had been 
 taken to the watch-house should be set free This was re- 
 fused, and thfi hussars returned. The afifair was already biid 
 
GERMANY. Ill 
 
 enough, but the students made it worse by a most indecorous 
 memorial, which they called a petition, and in which they de- 
 manded an amnesty in behalf of the implicated students, com- 
 pensation for what was considered an insult in the calling out 
 of the military with fixed bayonets, and a pledge on the part- 
 of the government that on no occasion in future should troops 
 not garrisoned at Jena be sent from Weimar. In case these 
 demands were not complied with, two hundred and four stu- 
 dents pledged themselves to leave the University at Easter. 
 Among the subscribers were the Curl'ander, Rheinl'ander, and 
 nearly all my personal friends. I, being a sort of privileged 
 person, was not pressed for my name, though a blank was left 
 for it. On the part of the academical senate, the negotiation 
 was put into the hands of one who had no savoir faire. The re- 
 sult w^as that conference served rather to widen than to close 
 the breach. Both parties secretly wished for a reconciliation, for 
 the professors were unwilling to lose their pupils, and the stu- 
 dents w^ere aware that nowhere else could they enjoy so many 
 advantages at so little expense ; and yet neither were prepared 
 to make the necessary concessions. Thinking myself perhaps 
 a suitable person to interpose, I called on seven of the leading 
 members of the senate. But meanwhile the matter had been 
 laid before the Duke, whose pride was wounded by the insult 
 offered to his soldiers ; and he gave preparatory orders, which 
 rendered all reconciliation impossible. 1 shall mention more 
 in detail by and by an application made by me to Goethe in 
 behalf of the students. It was of no avail. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII 
 
 GERMANY. 1804. 
 
 THE prospect of losing so many friends was to me a real 
 sorrow, and I should have felt it still more deeply had 
 not my interest in University studies been weakened by other 
 pursuits, and especially by the very interesting acquaintance 
 which I formed in the month of January (1804) with a lady 
 who then enjoyed a European reputation, and who will have 
 a lasting place in the history of French literature. I received 
 a note from Bottiger, the curious beginning of which is worth 
 
112 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 translating : " Madame de Stael, from whose lips flow spirit 
 and honeyed speech (Geist und Honigrede) wishes to make 
 your acquaintance, dearest Sir and Friend. She longs for a 
 philosophical conversation with you, and is now busied with 
 the Cahier (notes) on Schelling's ' Esthetics/ which I possess 
 through your kindness. She has, indeed, translated some 
 portions of them with admirable skill." I was then requested 
 to fix a day for dining with her. I was delighted with this 
 invitation, and knew how to interpret Bottiger's flattering ex- 
 pressions in reference to myself. He further begged me to 
 draw up a sketch of Schelling's *' AU-philosophia," as he 
 termed it, adapted to the Verstandswelt, i. e. the world of the 
 ordinary understanding and common sense as opposed to the 
 philosophical reason. With this request I complied, not that 
 I imagined myself competent to write a sentence which would 
 satisfy a German philosopher, but I thought I might render 
 some service to a French lady, even though she were Madame 
 de Stael. 
 
 On the 28th of January I first waited on her. I was shown 
 into her bedroom, for which, not knowing Parisian customs, 
 I was unprepared. She was sitting, most decorously, in her 
 bed, and writing. She had her nightcap on, and her face was 
 not made up for the day. It was by no means a captivating 
 spectacle, but I had a very cordial reception, and two bright 
 black eyes smiled benignantly on me. After a w^arm expres- 
 sion of her pleasure at making my acquaintance, she dismissed 
 me till three o'clock. On my return then I found a very dif- 
 ferent person, — the accomplished Frenchwoman surrounded 
 by admirers, some of whom were themselves distinguished. 
 Among them was the aged Wieland. There was on this, and 
 I believe on almost every other occasion, but one lady among 
 the guests : in this instance Frau von Kalb. Madame de 
 Stael did not afl'ect to conceal her preference for the society of 
 men to that of her own sex. If I mistake not, this dinner 
 was followed by five others during her short stay at Weimar ; 
 but my memoranda do not enable me to assign the exact 
 dates of the conversations to which I have now to refer. 
 
 She said, " Buonaparte sent his Marshal to me " — I think 
 it was Caulaincourt — "to say that he would not permit me 
 to receive company ; that he knew I was his enemy, — and 
 that my house was open to all his enemies. I might remain 
 at Paris, if I liked, but I must live alone. Now, you must be 
 sensible that is impossible, and therefore I set out on this 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 113 
 
 journey. I do not think it prudent to go to England at pres- 
 ent. Buonaparte pretended, and it was asserted by order in 
 the government newspapers, that his displeasure with me was 
 not on account of himself, but because I was a partisan of 
 foreign literature, and therefore a depreciator of the literary 
 glory of France." This I may say, that she had a laudable 
 anxiety to obtain a knowledge of the best German authors ; 
 and for this reason she sought my society, and I was not un- 
 willing to be made use of by her. She said, -and the general 
 remark is true, " The English mind is in the middle between 
 the German and the French, and is a medium of communica- 
 tion between them. I understand you better than I do any 
 German with whom I have ever spoken." But this, it must 
 be borne in mind, was at the beginning of her residence in 
 Germany, and long before her acquaintance with August Wil- 
 helm Schlegel. 
 
 One day after dinner the Duke came in. She introduced 
 me to him, saying, " J'ai voulu connaitre la philosophic alle- 
 mande ; j'ai frappe a la porte de tout le monde — Robinson 
 seul I'a ouverte." The day after she said to me, " How like 
 an Englishman you behaved yesterday ! When the Duke 
 came in you w^ere in the middle of a story, and after a slight 
 interruption you went on with it. No German would have 
 dared to do this. With a sovereign, it is always understood 
 that he is to begin every subject of conversation. The others* 
 answ^er questions and follow." I replied, " I see I was quite 
 wrong, — I ought not to have gone on." — " Perhaps not ; but 
 I was delighted with you for doing it." This subject was in- 
 troduced by her in connection with the remark that she could 
 at once see whether or not a German was accustomed to good 
 company, but not an Englishman. Then she abruptly said, 
 " Are you rich '? " I at once felt that this was not a compli- 
 mentary question, especially so introduced, so I answered 
 evasively, " As you please to take it ; I am either a rich man 
 of letters, or a poor gentleman," — and with that she was 
 content. She expressed her pleasiu-e at the manly and inde- 
 pendent tone of my conversation with the Duke, and her 
 contempt for the servile habits of some of the Germans. 
 
 When alone with her, it w^as my gi^eat aim to make her feel 
 the transcendent excellence of Goethe. But I failed. She 
 seemed utterly incapable of realizing wherein his excellence 
 lay. But she caught by sympathy a portion of that admi- 
 ration which every one felt for him. Among those excellences 
 
114 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, a 
 
 which she was unable to perceive was that of naivete. I read 
 to her some half-dozen of Goethe's most subtle and exquisite 
 epigrams. That, for instance, in which, after lamenting that 
 his mistress having jilted him, and the Muses done the same, 
 he, because he could not write, peered about for a halter or a 
 knife. " But thou camest," he concludes, " to save me. En- 
 nui ! Hail, Mother of the Muses!" Eniunerating the fine 
 arts w^hich he practised, '' Bringing one only near to perfec- 
 tion," he says ; ■' and so, miserable artist, I threw away my 
 art on the worst of materials, writing German ! " She could 
 not comprehend these. She was precisely what Charles Lamb 
 supposes all the Scotch to be, — incapable of feeling a joke. 
 Having tried her with a number of these ironical epigrams, 
 I read a commonplace one against the German sovereigns for 
 speaking French at their courts. " See what comes of it ] 
 Your subjects are only too fond of talking French," meaning 
 French principles. This she thought admirable, and took 
 down. Her success in spoiling a fine thing was strikingly 
 show^n in connection with a noble saying of Kant, which I 
 repeated to her : *' There are two things which, the more 
 I contemplate them, the more they fill my mind with admi- 
 ration, — the starry heavens above me, and the moral law 
 within me." She sprang up, exclaiming, " Ah, que cela est 
 beau ! II faut que je Tecrive," — and years after, in her ^' Alle- 
 mag-ne," I found it Frenchified thus : " Car, comme un philo- 
 sophe celebre a tres bien dit : Pour les coeurs sensibles, il y a 
 deux choses." ^ The grave philosopher of Konigsberg turned 
 into a " coeur sensible ! " 
 
 It is very apparent from the correspondence of Goethe and 
 Schiller that these two great poets regarded her visit to 
 Weimar as an infliction. Schiller would not go near her, and 
 Goethe made himself scarce. There was a report that she ex- 
 torted from the latter, by some advice on his " Natiirliche 
 Tochter," this reply, '^ Madam, I am more than sixty years 
 old ! " But this is not after his fashion. I know, however, 
 that she did speak irreverently of that masterly work, and 
 provoked me to the utterance of a very rude observation. I 
 said, '' Madame, vous n'avez pas compris Goethe, et vous ne le 
 comprendrez jamais." Her eye flashed, — she stretched out 
 her fine arm, of which she was justly vain, and said in an em- 
 phatic tone, " Monsieur, je comprends tout ce qui merite d'etre 
 compris ; ce que je ne comprends n'est rien." I bowed lowly. 
 This was said at table. After dinner she gave me her hand 
 
 \ 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 115 
 
 very kindly. " I was angry for a moment," she said, "but it 
 is all over now." I believe I owe the favor I experienced from 
 her to my perfect frankness, and even freedom. 
 
 One day, in the presence of Bottiger and others, she read a 
 translation of that " Scheussliches Gedicht " (according to Her- 
 der), the ^'Braut von Corinth." The most material point — 
 indeed I might say the peccant point — she had not perceived, 
 and therefore it was left out. When she ceased there was a 
 burst of praise from every one but myself. " Et vous, Robin- 
 son, vous ne dites rien." — " Madame, je m'occupe en pensant si 
 vous avez compris le veritable sens des mots." And then I read 
 the words significantly. Bottiger began, " Madame a parfaite- 
 ment rendu le vers." — " Taisez-vous ! " she exclaimed, paused 
 a moment, and then, giving me her hand, said, " Vous to us 
 ni'avez louee — Robinson seul m'a corrigee ; Robinson, je vous 
 remercie." Yet she had pleasure in being complimented, and 
 took it as a sort of right, — like a quitrent, not requiring 
 thanks, but a receipt. I must even quote one of the very few 
 gallant speeches that I have ever made. Before her journey to 
 Berlin, her court-dress for the King's birthday ball was pro- 
 duced at table after dinner. It w^as highly extolled by the 
 guests. She noticed my silence. " Ah, vous, Robinson, vous 
 ne dites rien V' — " Madame," I said, in a tone of assumed 
 gravity, " vous etes un pea exigeante. Je ne puis pas admirer 
 vous et votre robe au meme temps." — '^ Ah que vous etes aim- 
 able ! " she exclaimed, and gave me a smile, as if she had said, 
 " I know this means nothing, but then these are the things we 
 expect. You are really improving." For English frankness, 
 abstaining from all compliment, had been my habit. 
 
 My irregular recollection takes me back to the day when the 
 Duke joined our party. She was very eloquent in her declama- 
 tion, and chose as her topic an image which she afterwards in 
 her book quoted with applause, but which, when I first men- 
 tioned it to her, she could not comprehend. Schelling, in his 
 ** Methodology," calls Architecture " fi^ozen music." This she 
 vehemently abused as absurd, and challenged me to deny that 
 she was right. Forced to say something, I made my escape by 
 a compliment. '^ I can't deny that you have proved — que 
 votre esprit n'est pas gele." — "Fort bien dit," the Duke ex- 
 claimed ; and certainly any way of getting out of such a chal- 
 lenge was better than accepting it. There has appeared since 
 in English a treatise on Greek Architecture bearing the signifi- 
 cant title, "The Music of the Eye." 
 
116 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 I will conclude what I have to say of Madame de Stael per- 
 sonally, before 1 notice her companions. After some half-dozen 
 dinners, and as many or more tete-a-tetes, she went to Berlin, 
 from which place she wrote to me, proposing that I should re- 
 move to Berlin, take a lodging in her neighborhood, and be her 
 constant guest at table. She would introduce me to the liter- 
 ary world at Berlin. This proposal was too advantageous to be 
 declined. Such an introduction would have offered me prob- 
 ably more advantages than I could have profitably made use 
 of. I made up my mind to remove in the summer. It was, 
 therefore, with much sorrow that I heard, first, of the death of 
 her father, the minister Necker, and then that she had arrived 
 at Weimar, to stay a few days on her way to Switzerland. I 
 of course waited on her. She was loud in her expression of 
 grief at the loss which she had sustained. But her feeling was 
 sincere. It would be j udging uncandidly to infer that she did 
 not feel because she had leisure to be eloquent. Among her 
 declamatory bursts was this : " Oh ! il n'etait pas mon pere. 
 II etait mon frere, mon fils, mon mari, mon Tout ! " 
 
 I will now refer to those with whom I became acquainted 
 through her, or whom I saw in her company. Of these by far 
 the most eminent was Benjamin Constant. The slanderous 
 world, at least in France, has always affected to consider him 
 her lover. In a society so generally profligate as that of the 
 Parisian beau-monde, where the ascertained fact would be 
 scarcely a subject of blame, and where any expressed doubt of 
 the truth of the report would expose him who dared utter it to 
 contempt, no wonder that this amour was taken for granted. 
 It would never have occurred to me. She appeared to be the 
 elder, and called him " Mon Benjamin," as she might have done 
 a son or a younger brother. He, on the contrary, never spoke 
 of her lightly, but always with respect as Madame de Stael. 
 At her table he occupied the place of the master of the house ; 
 he was quite the aini de la maison. The worst thing about him 
 was that he was separated from his wife, to whom it was said 
 he had been a bad husband. He was a declared enemy to 
 Buonaparte, and was a member of the Tribunat which Buona- 
 parte abolished. After the Restoration he became a distin- 
 guished member of the Legislative Body. He was by birth a 
 Swiss. As a man of letters he was highly esteemed, and had a 
 first-rate reputation as a philosophical jurist. A zealous anti- 
 Romanist, he wrote on Christianity. I should call him rather 
 a sentimental than a Bible Christian ; but I should not be war- 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 117 
 
 ranted in saying that he was an anti-supernaturalist. A novel 
 of his, " Adolphe/' was said to favor free opinions on marriage. 
 I heard that he had translated Godwin's ^' Political Justice," 
 and inquired whether he had really done so. He said he had 
 made the translation, but had declined to publish it, because 
 he thought it might injure the good cause in the then state of 
 public opinion. Sooner or later, however, the work was to be 
 published, for he regarded the original as one of the master- 
 works of the age. In saying that his tone towards Madame de 
 Stael was respectful rather than tender, I do not mean that it 
 was deferential towards her opinions. On the contrary, his op- 
 position was unsparing, and though he had not her colloquial 
 eloquence, I thought he had always the advantage of her in 
 argument. One remark on the French national character was 
 made by him, which is worth quoting. I inquired whether 
 Buonaparte really possessed the affections of the French 
 people. He said, '^ Certainly not. But the French," he add- 
 ed, " are so vain, that they cannot bear the insignificance of 
 neutrality, and will affect to belong to the triumphant party 
 from an unwillingness to confess that they belong to the con- 
 quered." Hence Robespierre and Buonaparte have both, in 
 their respective times, had the tacit support of a nation which 
 in reality was not attached to either of them. 
 
 I have already said that Wieland was the most distinguished 
 of Madame de Stael's German visitors. He was frequent in his 
 attendance on her, and loud in his admiration. One day, when 
 she was declaiming with her usual eloquence, he turned to me, 
 and exclaimed, " Dass ich, in meinem hohen Alter, solche eine 
 Frau sehen soUte ! " (That I, in my old age, should see such 
 a woman ! ) I had remarked to her that of all the German 
 great writers his mind was the most French. *' I am aware of 
 it," she said, ''and therefore I do not think much of him. I 
 like a Geniian to be a German." 
 
 I, at the same time, told her that of all the then eminent 
 writers, the two Schlegels were those who possessed in a high 
 degree, and beyond all others, that peculiar mental quality 
 which the French call esprit, as distinguished from genius, 
 understanding, &c. ; and I advised her to cultivate the ac- 
 quaintance of A. W. Schlegel, who was then at Berlin. She 
 did what I advised, and more ; she engaged A. W. Schlegel to 
 reside with her in the character of tutor to her children. And, 
 in fact, the knowledge she would obtain from him was in every 
 respect so superior to anything I could communicate to her, 
 
118 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 that I take very little credit for any part I may have had in 
 supplying the materials of her book. There are, indeed, many 
 opinions in the book which Schlegel probably would have pro- 
 tested against being thought to have suggested. Yet she said 
 to me years after, '^ You know very well that I could never 
 have written that book without the assistance of Schlegel." 
 -But all that is best in that work, the section on life and man- 
 ners in Germany, came from herself alone. 
 
 Next to Wieland, the most eminent visitor whom I recollect 
 seeing at her table, was the famous Swiss historian, Johannes 
 von MUUer of SchafFhausen. I saw him frequently, and what 
 I remarked in him deserves to be noticed as bearing on his life 
 and conduct in middle age. He is the most illustrious of 
 literary turncoats on record, — if he deserve that degrading 
 character, which possibly he does not. 
 
 When he first made himself known as a political writer, he 
 was librarian to the Elector of Mayence ; and in that posi- 
 tion he wfote, in 1782, a famous pamphlet on the celebrated 
 visit of the Pope to Joseph 11. at Vienna. In this pamphlet, 
 entitled " Reisen der Pabste," he represented the Papal power 
 as exercised in favor of popular liberty against the great mili- 
 tary governments. His next and still more famous pamphlet 
 was the '* Fiirstenbund " (League of Princes), written in 1787, 
 and advocating the cause of the Princes of Germany against 
 the House of Austria. This was followed by his entering into 
 the service of the Emperor. In that service he remained many 
 years. During this time he continued the great work on 
 which his fame chiefly rests, ^' The History of the Swiss 
 League," which he commenced when young, and which was, in 
 fact, the business of his life. On the subject of his connection 
 with the Austrian government, I heard him say : " The gov- 
 ernment passed a law which was aimed at me particularly. It 
 was a prohibition of all subjects printing any book out of the 
 dominions of the Emperor. The moment this law was passed 
 I made my preparations for quitting Vienna. I began by 
 sending out of the country all my MSS. and my papers of 
 every description. I sent them in small parcels by many per- 
 sons, and not one was lost." When I saw him at Weimar he was, 
 as I learn from the ^^ Conversations-Lexicon," on his way to 
 Berlin. He at this time entered into the service of the King 
 of Prussia. Yet my impression was that the tone of his con- 
 versation was by no means favorable to the Prussian govern- 
 ment. And being, as he was, anti-French in his feelings, 
 
1804.1 
 
 GERMANY. 119 
 
 though perfectly liberal in his political opinions, and a sturdy 
 Protestant, he might well be hostile to that fatal policy which 
 for a time made Prussia the ally of France, and the tool of 
 Buonaparte. After the fall of the Prussian government, Miiller 
 went into the service of the King of Westphalia, in which he 
 died in 1809 ; and, as I heard, stayed by his death proceed- 
 ings against him for writings in opposition to the Gallo-German 
 government to which he belonged. Notwithstanding his hav- 
 ing served so many rulers of an opposite character, my im- 
 pression, from what I saw and heard of him, was, that he was 
 an honest and conscientious man, and that, like many others 
 who have incurred the reproach of inconsistency, he acted on 
 the maxim of doing all the good he could in any station in 
 which he might at the time be placed, — not hesitating to leave 
 that station when he found himself no longer able to do good 
 in it. 
 
 Miiller's German pronunciation was extremely disagreeable. 
 It was excessively Swiss, i. e. the guttural sounds were exag- 
 gerated in it. His French, on the contrary, w^as agreeable. 
 
 While he was at Weimar T witnessed the performance of 
 " W^ilhelm Tell," when the following incident took place. In 
 the last act an occurrence is introduced for the sake of a great 
 moral contrast, though at variance equally with history and 
 dramatic unity. Parricida, the murderer of the Emperor, is 
 coming on the stage, and the murder is spoken of On the 
 evening to which I refer, when Miiller was present, there was 
 introduced, as I understood for the first time, this passage : 
 " How do you know it '^ " — "It is certain ; a man worthy 
 of credit, Johannes Miiller, brought it from Schaffiiausen." 
 The name was pronounced aloud, and was followed by up- 
 roarious applause. It was talked of next day as a joke. But 
 in my edition the passage stands in the text without any note. 
 
 At Madame de Stael's house I first became acquainted with 
 several of the Weimar court, and so the way was prepared for 
 that introduction which in the following winter became of 
 some importance. My name was known pretty generally. A 
 prominent court lady was Fraulein von Geckhausen, a shrewd 
 lively little woman, who noticed me obligingly. Since her 
 death the gossiping books speak of her as malignant and in- 
 triguing ; for myself, however, I havfe none but agreeable rec- 
 ollections of her. She read to me a short note to Madame de 
 Stael, in which the compliments seemed to me to have an ex- 
 travagance bordering on insincerity. I therefore ventured to 
 
120 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8- 
 
 say, " Do me the favor, Fraulein, to read that in German." 
 She began, stammered, and stopped. " Das lasst sich nicht 
 Deutsch sagen." (You can't say theit in German.) — "1 know 
 you cannot ; shall I tell you the reason why 1 The German is 
 an honest language, and your German habits are honest. 
 When, therefore, you have anything to say of mere compli- 
 ment, which means nothing, you feel as you say, ' Das lasst 
 sich nicht Deutsch sagen.' " 
 
 In the present University session I saw a little of Schiller, 
 but not much. He had always the appearance of being un- 
 well. His amiable wife, and her very clever sister, and indeed 
 all those who were about him, appeared to watch over him as 
 an object of solicitude. While the admiration excited by 
 Goethe was accompanied by awe, that which was felt towards 
 Schiller was mixed wath love and pity. I may here mention 
 that at the end of a very early, if not the first, performance of 
 *^ Die Braut von Messina," a young doctor, son of the learned 
 Professor Schulz, the philologer, rose in the pit and exclaimed, 
 " Schiller der grosse Dichter soil leben '^ (Long live Schiller, 
 the great poet) ! The numerous students in the pit all joined 
 in the cry, and there was a regular three times three of applause. 
 But this was regarded as a great impropriety and breach of 
 decorum in the presence of the Duke and Duchess, and we 
 heard that young Schulz received a severe reproof from the 
 government. 
 
 In March, 1804, I had a re-introduction, and not a mere 
 formal one, as the first was, to Goethe. It was at the theatre. 
 He was sitting in his arm-chair, in the front row of the pit. 
 I had repeatedly taken a seat near enough to him to have 
 an occasional glimpse of his countenance, but I never pre- 
 sented myself to his notice. On the evening of which I 
 write, I was sitting immediately behind him. Benjamin Con- 
 stant came in with him, and after shaking hands with me, 
 whispered my name to Goethe, who immediately turned round, 
 and with a smile as ingratiating as his ordinary expression was 
 cold and forbidding, said, '^ Wissen Sie, Herr Robinson, dass 
 Sie mich beleidigt haben T' (Do you know, Mr. Eobinson, 
 that you have affronted me 1) — " How is that possible, Herr 
 Geheimerath V — '' Why, you have visited every one at Wei- 
 mar excepting me." I felt that I blushed, as I said, " You 
 may imagine any cause, Herr Geheimerath, but want of rev- 
 erence." He smiled and said, " I shall be happy to see you at 
 any time." I left my card, of course, the next morning, and 
 
 I 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 121 
 
 the next dav there came an invitation to dinner ; and I dined 
 with him several times before I left the neighborhood of Wei- 
 mar. 
 
 It was, I believe, on the very evening on which he spoke 
 to me in the theatre, that I asked him whether he was ac- 
 quainted with our " Venice Preserved." " 0, very well, — the 
 comic scenes are particularly good." I actually started at 
 so strange a judgment. " Indeed ! in England those scenes 
 are considered so very bad that they are never acted." — " I 
 can imderstand that ; and yet, on reflection, you will perceive 
 that those scenes are quite essential to the piece. It is they 
 alone which account for, and go near to justify, the conspir- 
 acy ; for we see in them how utterly unfit for government the 
 Senate had become." I recognized at once the truth of the 
 criticism, and felt ashamed of myself for not having thought of 
 it before. In all his conversation he spoke in the most simple 
 and unpretending manner, but there was in it remarkable 
 significance, — a quiet strength, a power without effort, remind- 
 ing me of what I read of a painting, in which a man was 
 wrestling with an angel. An ignorant man abused the picture 
 on the ground that in the angel there was no sign of effort, — 
 no muscle was strained. But this was designed to show the an- 
 gelic nature. It is the same in the Greek sculpture of the gods. 
 
 When Madame de Stael returned from Berlin, and brought 
 A. W. Sclilegel in her train, I dined at Goethe's with Schlegel, 
 Tieck the sculptor, and Riemer. JSTo one else but Madame 
 Goethe was present. I was struck by the contrast between 
 Schlegel and Goethe. Nothing could exceed the repose of 
 Goethe, whereas on Schlegel's part there was an evident striv- 
 ing after pun and point. Of these I recollect nothing but 
 that Bottiger was his butt, whom he compared to Bardolph. 
 From Goethe I remember a word or two of deep significance. 
 He said to Schlegel : '^ I am glad to hear that your brother 
 means to translate the ' Sakontala.' I shall rejoice to see that 
 poem as it is, instead of as it is represented by the moral Eng- 
 lishman." And there was a sarcastic emphasis on the word 
 ^'moralischen." He then went on, " Eigentlich aber basse 
 ich alles Orientalische." (But in truth, I hate everything Ori- 
 ental.) By which, probably, he meant rather that he infinitely 
 prefeiTed the Greek to the Oriental mind. He continued : " I 
 am glad there is something that I hate ; for, otherwise, one is 
 in danger of falling into the dull habit of literally finding all 
 things good in their place, — and that is destructive of all 
 
 VOL. I. 6 
 
122 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Cwaf. 8. 
 
 true feeling." This casts some light on his sentiments respect- 
 ing the two religions which had their origin in the East. And 
 yet this might have been a transient feeling, for in less than 
 ten years he withdrew himself from the contemplation of the 
 miseries which then surrounded him, and took refuge in the 
 study of Oriental literature. The result is given in his 
 " West-Eastern Divan." 
 
 Were I a yoimger man, and did I fancy myself competent to 
 the task, I would collect and translate all that Goethe has* 
 written on Judaism and Christianity. It should be published 
 without note or comment, — for it is unlike anything I have 
 ever met with from believer or unbeliever, and is absolutely 
 unique. In one of his private letters to Lavater, he makes a 
 distinction, for which our ordinary language has no equivalent. 
 He says, ^^ I am by no means antz-Christmn, not even 2^;i -Chris- 
 tian, but I am indeed nicht-Christian." The difference between 
 un-Christian and nicht-Christian may be conceived. 
 
 It was at no great distance from this time that I called on 
 Goethe to see whether I could induce him to act as a mediator 
 between the Duke and the students, in the quan-el that 
 threatened an Auszug, or withdrawal, of the best young men 
 of the University. Having listened to my representations, he 
 coolly said : '* So is it in these matters of police, in which both 
 parties are right. The students, seeing the matter from their 
 point of view, are perfectly in the right. But then the Duke 
 is equally in the right ; he has his own mode of looking at 
 things from his point of view as sovereign." 
 
 During these occasional visits, I saw the companion of 
 Goethe's table, the mother of his children. As is well known, 
 she afterwards became his wife. She had an agreeable coun- 
 tenance, and a cordial tone. Her manners were unceremoni- 
 ous and free. Queer stories are told of her undignified ways 
 and the freedom of her intercourse with him when she was 
 young ; but she had outgrown all such eccentricities when I 
 saw her. 
 
 I have already referred to Goethe's son coming to Madame 
 de Stael with his album. She allowed me to copy the two 
 first verses of the little volume. I have never seen them in 
 print. 
 
 In Goethe's hand were these distichs : — 
 
 *' Gonnern reiche das Biich, und reich' es Frennd und Gespielen: 
 Reich' es dem Eilenden hin, der sich voriiber bewegt — 
 VVer des freundlichen Worts, des Namens Gabe dir spendet 
 Haufet den edlen Schatz hoi den Erinnerns dir an." 
 
1804.] GERMANY. - 123 
 
 That is : — 
 
 *' Hand to the Patron the book, and hand it to friend and companion; 
 Hand to the traveller too, — rapidly passing away : 
 He who with friendly gift of a word or a name thee enriches," 
 
 [The last line is wanting in the translation. The meaning 
 is : — 
 
 " Stores up a noble treasure of tender remembrance for thee."] 
 
 In Schiller's hand were these lines : — 
 
 *' Holder Knab', dich liebt das Gliick denn es gab dir der Giiter, 
 Erstes, Kostliches, dich riihmend des Vaters zu Ireuen 
 Jetzo kennest du nur des Freundes liebende Seele. 
 Wenn du zum Manne gereift, wirst du die Worte verstehen. 
 Dann erst kehrst du zuriick mit reiner Liebe Gefiihle 
 An des Trefflichen Brust der dir jetzt Vater nur ist; 
 Lass ihn leben in dir, wie er lebt in den ewigen Werken, 
 Die er, der Einzige, uns bliihend unsterblich'erschuf, 
 Und das herzliche Band der wechselnden Neigung und Treue 
 Das die Vater verkniipft, binde die Sohne nur fort." 
 
 " Cherished boy I thou art the favorite of Fortune, for she gave thee the first 
 and most precious of gifts, to rejoice in the glory of thy father. Kow thou 
 knowest only the loving heart of the friend. When thou art ripened into 
 manhood thou wilt understand the words. Thou wilt then go back with 
 feelings of pure love to the bosom of the excellent who at present is merely 
 father to thee. Let him live in thee, as he lives in the eternal works which he, 
 the only one, produced for us in everlasting bloom; and may the heartfelt bond 
 of reciprocal inclination and confidence, which united the fathers, continue to 
 unite the sons! " 
 
 The son of Prorector Voigt was among the students with 
 whom I became most intimate. Later in life he became Pro- 
 fessor of Botany at Jena, and acquired reputation bj his 
 writings. Of the kindliness of his disposition I have a deep 
 sense ; our friendship has retained its original warmth for forty 
 years, and during that time there has been no interruption to 
 our correspondence. At the time of which I am now writing 
 he had completed his studies, and settled at Gotha with the 
 object of practising as a physician ; and there I paid him a 
 visit. An Englishman was then a phenomenon in the little 
 town, but I was cordially received in Voigt's circle of acquaint- 
 ance ; and I recollect that when I had danced with a lady 
 and handed her to a seat, she somewhat surprised me by 
 saying, " And now, sir, I have to tell you that you are the last 
 gentleman T shall ever dance with in company." — "Indeed, 
 madam. How is that V — " Why, sir, to-moiTow my daughter 
 is to be confirmed, and I have always been of opinion that 
 when a lady is so far advanced in life as to have a daughter 
 confirmed, it is time to give up dancing." 
 
124 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 But my object in referring to this visit to Gotha is to say- 
 something of a man whose name belongs to the history of the 
 last century, though it was raised to undue importance by the 
 malignant exaggerations of party spirit. 
 
 During the heat of the first Revolution in France, two 
 works appeared, one in England, by Professor Robison of Edin- 
 burgh, and the other, the more voluminous, in France, by the 
 Abbe Ban'uel, with the common object of showing that the 
 Revolution and all the horrors consequent on it were theeifect 
 of a conspiracy deliberately planned and carried out on the 
 Continent of Em*ope by an Order of Infidels, who, by means 
 of secret societies, planned to destroy all thrones, overturn all 
 altars, and completely upset the established order of things. 
 The society to which this scheme was ascribed had the name 
 of The Illuminati, They were supposed to have ramifications 
 everywhere. The Kantian philosophy was one of the instru- 
 ments. Indeed, more or less, every union of men, and every 
 variety of thought, opposed to monarchy and popery had about 
 it the suspicion of " Illumination." And of this tremendous 
 evil the founder and archdeacon was Adam Weishaupt. When 
 I found that this notorious man was leading a secluded life in 
 Gotha, I determined to call on him. On entering his room, 
 I remarked that he was both embarrassed and reserved, and it 
 was not till I had introduced myself as one anxious to see him, 
 though I knew of him only from his enemies, that he seemed 
 willing to enter into conversation with me. On my taking 
 leave, he even invited me to repeat my visit, and I went to 
 him three times. He frankly told me that I was let into his 
 house through the stupidity of a servant-girl, whom he was 
 on the point of tiu-ning away for it ; but he had forgiven her 
 on account of the pleasure he had derived from our interviews. 
 He said he held in abhorrence all travellers who made imper- 
 tinent calls, and especially Englishmen. He would not gratify 
 the curiosity of such men. But my candor and openness had 
 rendered him willing to make an exception in my case. In 
 saying this he was, perhaj)s, not departing from that char- 
 acter which his enemies ascribed to him. Indeed, as is 
 usual in such instances, the statements made concerning 
 him are founded in truth. The falsehood lies in the exag- 
 geration of some parts of his history, and in the omission of 
 others. 
 
 Weishaupt would not have denied that he was brought up 
 among the Jesuits, or that in his opposition to them he availed 
 
1804 J GERMANY. 125 
 
 himself of the resources which he acquired through his con- 
 nection with them. And he did form a secret Order at a time 
 when, especially in the South of Germany, an open expression 
 of free opinions would have endangered liberty, and perhaps 
 life. That the end was good according to his first intention, 
 and that there was at all times, perhaps, a mixture of good- 
 ness in his motives, may reasonably be conceded. Many emi- 
 nent men (Baron Knigge was one of the ablest) attached them- 
 selves to the Order. It has always been said that Maximilian, 
 the first king of Bavaria, was favorable to it ; nor does the 
 history of his reign contradict the report. The Church, the 
 courtiers, and the aristocracy were, however, too pow^erful for 
 the conspirators. The society was broken up, a fierce perse- 
 cution arose, and Weishaupt was happy in making his escape, 
 and obtaining the protection of the learned Duke of Saxe- 
 Gotha and the Duchess. When I saw him he was about fifty- 
 six years of age, and his appearance w^as in no respect prepos- 
 sessing ; his features were coarse, his voice harsh, and his 
 manners abrupt and awkward. But his conversation made a 
 strong impression on my mind. He shov/ed no great anxiety 
 to vindicate himself against the prevailing opinion respecting 
 him, or to dwell on those sentiments w^hich would be most 
 likely to gain popular favor ; on the contrary, he uttered things 
 w^hich it requires boldness and indifference to evil report to 
 express. Among his sayings, one was delivered with peculiar 
 emphasis : " One of my tests of character is what a man says 
 about principle. A weak man is always talking of acting on 
 principle. An able man does always the right thing at the 
 right moment, and therein he shows himself to be able." He 
 even went so far as to say that there are occasions when it is 
 foolish to be just. He took a desponding view of human life, 
 and seemed to think human society unimprovable. No won- 
 der ! He had himself failed as a reformer, and therefore 
 thought no one else could succeed. He said, " There is but 
 one schoolmaster whose teaching is always effectual, — Neces- 
 sity. Evil flourishes till it destroys itself So it was with 
 Popery ; so it will be with monarchy." And he added, some- 
 what diffusely, that there is a constant interchange of pro- 
 gressive evil and partial reform. I said, I could not believe 
 that his view was a correct one. He smiled and said, '' You 
 are quite right ; if you can help it, don't believe it." I said, 
 " You would not teach this to your children." — '' If I attempt- 
 ed it," he answered, " I should not succeed. The young, w^ith 
 
126 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 their good hearts, cannot believe it." — " But old men with 
 cold heads 1 " I said in a voice of inten-ogation. " I am sorry 
 for it," he said, " but it is true." 
 
 The practical writings of Weishaupt are of value ; the 
 speculative were never esteemed. He wrote against the Kan- 
 tian philosophy, but his works were not read. His " Pythag- 
 oras," as he said, contains all the statistics of Secret Societies. 
 But the vast extension of education since Weishaupt's time 
 has rendered this learning of less importance than it was eveu 
 then. He is said to have been an admirer of Buonaparte. 
 This is natural with his peculiar habit of thought. For the 
 French character he professed great contempt, and for the 
 English high admiration. To poetry and the fine arts he was 
 indiiferent. 
 
 At the Easter recess of 1804, the students who had threat- 
 ened to leave the University, unless the demands in their me- 
 morial were complied with, took their departure to pursue 
 their studies elsewhere. Jena seemed deserted ; I at least lost 
 the greater number of my younger friends and companions. 
 A large proportion of them repaired to the recently established 
 University of Wiirzburg. 
 
 It happened, fortunately for myself, that, soon after this 
 loss, I became intimate with one for whom, of all my German 
 acquaintance, I have felt the warmest regard : this was Major 
 von Knebel. He was at the time just sixty years of age. He 
 had a fine military figure, and his temper and character were 
 much better adapted to arms than to scholarship ; yet his 
 tastes were literary. A Franconian nobleman by birth, he en- 
 tered early into the service of Prussia, and was brought up 
 under the great Frederick. But the restraints and subordina- 
 tion of a military life were repugnant to him. He loved poetry 
 intensely, and even wrote verses. On a journey which he ac- 
 cidentally made through Weimar, when under the government 
 of the Duchess-Dowager Amelia, he had the good fortune to 
 make himself acceptable to the Duchess Regent. She obtained 
 from the King of Prussia his discharge from military duties, 
 and he accepted office in the Court of Weimar as governor 
 of the Prince Constantine, the second son, and becamp his 
 travelling companion in France. This was just at that genial 
 period when Goethe became, not precisely the governor, but 
 the intimate companion of the heir and subsequent Duke 
 of Saxe- Weimar who when I was at Weimar was the sover- 
 eign. 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 127 
 
 Knebel, therefore, was a participator in all those acts of ex- 
 travagance of Avhich public report was so full, and which have 
 formed a subject for so much political and literary gossip. 
 When his pupil died, which was in a few years, he had a pen- 
 sion allowed him, with the rank and emoluments of a Major ; and 
 thus he was sufficiently provided for till the end of his days. 
 He was without the early training of the scholar and the 
 habits of the literary man ; but he had the tastes of a delicate 
 organization, and all the feelings of a man of honor and re- 
 fined sensibility, with a choleric temperament. His sense of 
 honor rendered him very reserved on all matters connected with 
 the Court, especially with the Duke and Goethe. That sense 
 of honor at the same time also kept him aloof from the Court. 
 While he shared the admiration which was universallv felt to- 
 wards Goethe, there was something which prevented the perfect 
 feeling of cordiality which existed between Herder and him- 
 self In that division of literary men at Weimar, which placed 
 Goethe and Schiller at the head of one set, and Wieland and 
 Herder at the head of the other, there could be no question as 
 to which Knebel attached himself 
 
 His own taste led him to occupy himself with translations. 
 He published a German version of the '' Elegies of Proper- 
 tius," f^.nd devoted many years of his life to the production of 
 a German Lucretius. In the course of his studies he had 
 formed a high opinion of the critical taste of Gilbert Wake- 
 field, whose text he adopted ; and it added not a little to 
 my merit in his eyos, that I had known Wakefield. Ele- 
 giac tenderness and sententious wisdom were the directions 
 which his faculty of verse-making took. He was a moral 
 poet, and full of " natural piety," to borrow Bacon's expres- 
 sion. 
 
 From the momeiit of my being known to Knebel, I became 
 intimate in his house. There was none into which I went 
 with so much pleasure, and Knebel seemed to receive no one 
 with so much satisfaction. He had a great deal to learn from 
 me in English literature, and I from him in German. Though 
 our opportunities of intercourse lasted but a short time, I 
 yet attached greater value to his acquaintance than any 
 other I formed in Germany. He had not the means of giv- 
 ing expensive entertainments, nor was it the custom in 
 Jena to give them ; but he was by nature liberal and most 
 gentlemanly in all his feelings. He was an object of uni- 
 versal ]ove^ 
 
128 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother.* 
 
 Jena, December 12, 1804. 
 I met Knebel first at the house of Frau von Wollzogen, 
 and was immediately invited to visit him. I am now the 
 most intimate ami de la maison. If for three days I omit 
 calling, the servant comes with the Major's compliments to 
 inquire after my health ; and I find that I am never unwel- 
 come. We sometimes read Shakespeare, but oftener reason 
 about Lucretius. By what lucky mistake I know not, but the 
 Major looks on me as a Philolog, lays scruples and difficulties 
 before me, and listens to me with an attention that makes me 
 internally blush. He is chatty, has seen much of life and 
 literary men, and relates his anecdotes with pleasure. Nor 
 is this all. A few years since he married a A^ery pretty and 
 amiable woman, just half as old as himself She is lively and 
 naive in the highest degree, so that they often seem rather in 
 the relation of parent and child than of husband and wife. 
 He has besides a forward clever boy of ten, with whom I can 
 very well entertain myself Thus it needs no assurance of 
 mhie that in this house I am quite happy; indeed it is my 
 prime enjoyment this winter, — a new tie to Jena. When 
 persons of so excellent a character as Major Knebel attach 
 themselves to me, I am always led to inquire into the cause, 
 and that out of true modesty, for it seems a wonder to me. 
 And in this case it lies more in the virtues of Knebel than in 
 me. He loves the society of those to whom he can say every- 
 thing. And my betters here are not of that description, — 
 real scholars have not time, and have too much pretension. 
 I am a man of leisure. I am frank, and as I take liberties 
 myself, so others can take liberties with me. And then the 
 main point is, we ride one hohhy-horse. I know no source of 
 friendship so productive as this. I should further say that 
 Major Knebel is in other respects a most worthy man, — 
 generous and sincere, — a courtier without falsity, ^— a soldier 
 without frivolity. The worst fault I know in him is that he 
 admires Buonaparte. I lately dined with him in company 
 with the venerable Griesbach, whom you know as a theolo- 
 gian ; and the equally venerable Wieland. 
 
 I will here mention an interesting anecdote connected with 
 
 * This letter is given a little out of order as to time, but the reference in it 
 to Knebel could come in nowhere else so well as here. 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 129 
 
 " Reynard the Fox," though it is already contained in my 
 friend Naylor's translation of that work. One day, at KnebeVs 
 house. Herder said to Goethe, " Do you know that we have 
 in the German language an epic poem with as much poetry in 
 it as the ' Odyssey,' and more philosophy ? " 
 
 When " Reineke Fuchs " was named, Goethe said he had 
 been deterred from looking into it, by its being published by 
 Gottsched, a sort of evil spirit who presided over the infant 
 genius of German literature in the eighteenth century. Goethe, 
 however, took the book away with him on a visit to Carlsbad, 
 where he frequently passed the summer ; and in a few weeks 
 he wrote to Herder that his version of " Reineke " in hexame- 
 ters was in the press. 
 
 To soften the painful effect of taking leave at once of a 
 number of high-spirited and generous young men, I had 
 promised to pay a visit to WUrzburg. On two points, more- 
 over, my curiosity was not a little excited : first, as to how 
 the Deism of Paul us would amalgamate with the Romanism 
 of the Bavarian aborigines ; and secondly, whether the pecu- 
 liar character of a Jenaer-Bursche was fixed to the soil, or 
 might be transplanted by so numerous a colony to the Maxi- 
 milian school. 
 
 At the request of my new friend Knebel, I postponed my 
 journey from the 8th to the 10th of September, in order to 
 accompany his friend, Herr von Holzschuher. He was a 
 patrician of the imperial city of Nuremberg, and I found him 
 a most amiable and obliging man. His station and exterior 
 figure did not seem promising for a long expedition on foot ; 
 but, notwithstanding his shrivelled, swarthy face, slender 
 limbs, and shufling gait, he had an inborn nobility of legs 
 that secured my esteem, and enabled him to accomplish from 
 twelve to fourteen leagues a day during the short time we 
 were together. 
 
 My reception at Wiirzburg was a very cordial one, and I 
 found myself an object of interest to many former Jena 
 students, who crowded round me to hear tidings of a place 
 they loved more than their pride would allow them to con- 
 fess. When I repaired to my inn, my companions, bent on 
 fun, urged me to be the chief actor in playing off a trick on a 
 a foolish landlord. Indeed, without preparing me for what 
 they were going to do, they introduced me to him at once as 
 the illustrious philosopher Fichte. The man was so egregious 
 a simpleton, that the task on my part was an easy one. My 
 6* T " 
 
130 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 companions gravely put to me questions of casuistry, which I 
 answered sometimes with Delphic mysticism, i. e. sheer non- 
 sense, at others with pompous triteness, — a still more suc- 
 cessful method, perhaps, of befooling a fool. Our host was 
 delighted to have his house honored by the presence of so 
 great a man, and soon brought into the room a witness and 
 sharer of his felicity, a young Catholic priest on his w^ay to 
 the Arch-chancellor, the Elector Dalberg. After my friends 
 had left me, and when I was quite alone, this young priest 
 came to me for the second time, and begged to have the honor 
 of a few words in private with the great man. I thought I 
 might innocently indemnify myself for my trouble by learning 
 some of his sentiments. " Pray," said I, ''now that the young 
 people are away, let us talk openly. Men of our character 
 understand each other. How is it that a person of your 
 philosophic turn of mind can submit to the slavery of the 
 Roman Catholic system ? How do you dare to think philos- 
 ophy ] " He assumed a look that Hogarth might have bor- 
 rowed, and said : " To tell you the truth, Herr Professor, there 
 is not one of us who does not feel the yoke, and we envy you 
 Protestants ; but we are poor, and submit for the sake of a 
 maintenance. But I assure you we are more enlightened 
 than you are aware of" And then he said with a smile of 
 conceit : '' Perhaps, after all, we do not believe so much even 
 as you. In secret w^e are very enlightened." The style in 
 which he went on prevented me from feeling any scruple at 
 the joke to which I was a party. I have no doubt he was 
 saying what he supposed would recommend him to my favor- 
 able opinion. I inquired about the disputes then going on 
 between the King and the Bishop (of Wurzburg), and found 
 from his account, which now I could believe to be sincere, 
 that he and his brethren were anxious to steer between the 
 two powers ; for to the one they owed their subsistence, and 
 to the other their clerical character. The next morning, Pro- 
 fessor Fichte paid his bill, and took up his abode with one of 
 his friends. 
 
 In the course of the day I beheld a strange sight, — a man 
 beheaded for murder. He was of the lowest description of 
 character, sunk in brutal stupidity and despair. The specta- 
 tor could not but feel ashamed of such a degradation of 
 human nature. The place of execution in Germany is usually 
 a circular elevation, spacious enough to hold a chair and three 
 or four persons, i. e. some fifteen or twenty feet in diameter. 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 131 
 
 In the present instance the criminal, having rapidly performed 
 certain religious rites below, which I did not see, was blind- 
 folded, and, with a crucifix in his hand, led by two men to 
 the raised gTound, and there placed in a chair. The execu- 
 tioner then stepped from behind, holding a broad sword under 
 his cloak, and in an instant, with a back-handed blow, severed 
 the head jfrom the body. The headless trunk remained in the 
 chair unmoved, as if nothing had happened. A Capuchin 
 monk then came forward, and, lifting up a huge crucifix, ex- 
 claimed, '' See, my friends, that thing which was a man sits 
 there, and all because he neglected going to confession." A 
 Protestant in like circumstances would have ascribed the 
 catastrophe to the violation of the Sabbath. The address 
 which followed was delivered with eloquence, and, though dis- 
 gusting to me, was, I felt, well adapted to impress the sort of 
 audience collected to hear it. 
 
 I spent two days visiting various acquaintances, and both 
 days I had great pleasure in dining with Professor Paulus, an 
 agreeable companion, very acute as w^ell as clear-headed. 
 Whatever opinion I may entertain of his Christianity, which 
 is not so favorable now as it was then, I see no reason to 
 withhold the acknowledgment of his perfect sincerity and 
 integrity. He claimed the character of a Christian Pro- 
 fessor, and this during his long academical life was not denied 
 him by any official colleague, though refused to him by con- 
 troversial adversaries. I learned from him that Schelling had 
 already lost the favor of the government, and that a struggle 
 of parties was going on which threatened (and soon produced 
 its effect on) the infant University.* 
 
 The hope of being able to render service to a friend caused 
 me to extend my tour to Heidelberg and Carlsruhe. Of the 
 former I need not speak ; the latter did not please me. The 
 town is built in the shape of a fan, the palace forming the 
 handle, and the streets radiating from it. Of the famous 
 Bergstrasse I will only say, that I never felt more strongly 
 the effect of scenery in giving strength and resolution. It is 
 
 * It should be not infant, but rejuvenescent. The University of "Wlirzburg 
 was originally established in 1403, "bnt, having ceased to exist, was re-estab- 
 ilshed in 1582; and an attempt was made at the beginning of the present 
 century to widen its influence by the appointment of several very eminent 
 professors; and it seems that a Protestant element was introduced in the 
 theological staff of professors. At the present time Wiirzburg is a Roman 
 Catholic university. The Protestant university of Bavaria is that of Erlan- 
 gen, at which a large propoi'tion of the students are theological. 
 
132 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 said that a property of beauty is to enervate ; but this was 
 not my experience in the present journey. The road was 
 lined on both sides with fruit-trees of every description, es- 
 pecially walnuts, apples, and chestnuts. The principal har- 
 vest was over, but every variety of produce was left, includ- 
 ing, besides more familiar objects, flax, tobacco, and Indian 
 corn. I noticed one peach-tree standing by itself. The ap- 
 ples were not knocked down, but carefully gathered one 
 by one by means of an instrument combining a rake and a 
 basket. 
 
 While I was on this little tour Buonaparte paid a visit to 
 Mayence, of which all the papers were full. I was amused at 
 the prevailing timidity of the people in expressing their opin- 
 ions. I never met with an individual who had a word to say 
 in his favor, but no one ventured to speak against him. I 
 alone talked freely, and I could see that people envied me my 
 power of saying what I liked. One evening, at the table- 
 d'hote, I was rattling away as usual, when a well-looking man 
 who sat next me asked where I was going 1 I said, " On 
 foot to Frankfort." He took me by the hand, and in the tone 
 of one about to ask a serious favor, begged me to take a seat 
 between him and his wife in their carriage. " It will do my 
 heart good," he said, " to talk with an Englishman about that 
 vile people and their vile Emperor, who have thrust my nation 
 into such misery. I am from Berne ; my name is Von Hal- 
 ler." — " Probably of the family of the great physiologist ? " I 
 said. '' The same." The request was seconded by his very 
 nice little wife, who had hardly ever before been out of her 
 native place. I enjoyed my drive with my patriotic com- 
 panions, and the first day after our arrival at Frankfort I de- 
 voted to them. I then spent four days in calling on my 
 several acquaintance. But my visit was tantalizing rathet 
 than satisfying, and led to a reflection which on other occa- 
 sions has forced itself on me, and which I think worth writing 
 here. It is this, the sentiments we entertain for old friends 
 are sometimes endangered by a short visit after a few years' 
 absence. The recollection of the former intercourse with old 
 friends has about it a charm, which is broken when they are 
 seen for only a short time. If there be a second stay with 
 them sufficiently lengthened to form a new image, then a 
 double and strengthened attachment arises. Otherwise an 
 illusion is destroyed, and no substitute is produced. 
 
 In my notes of the Brentano family, I find that Bettina 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 133 
 
 ^pleased me this time better than before. Now I may venture to 
 mention Bettina, who has since gained a European notoriety 
 at least. When I first came to Frankfort she was a short, 
 stout, romping girl, the youngest and least agreeable of 
 Madame de la Roche's grandchildren. She was always con- 
 sidered a wayward, unmanageaVjle creature. I recollect seeing 
 her climb apple-trees, and she was a great rattling talker. I 
 recollect also hearing her speak in terms of extravagant ad- 
 miration of the Mignon of Goethe's *' Wilhelm Meister." 
 Clasping her hands over her bosom, she said, " I always lie 
 thus when in bed, in imitation of Mignon." I had heard 
 nothing of her for many years, when there appeared " Goethes 
 Briefwechsel mit einem Kinde " (Correspondence of Goethe 
 with a Child). In this book Bettina wishes to have it thought 
 that she was so much an object of interest to Goethe, that he 
 framed sonnets out of her letters. My friend Fritz Schlosser 
 says he is most certain that these letters were not written at 
 the date they bear, but are mere inventions founded on the 
 sonnets. My acquaintance at Frankfort are of the same opin- 
 ion, and it is not opposed by the family. 
 
 On the way back to Jena I passed through Fulda, the resi- 
 dence of a prince bishop, and saw a play entitled " Uble 
 Laune," by Kotzebue. I thought it did not justify the epi- 
 gram made upon it by A. W. Schlegel : — 
 
 *' Justly and wisely this piece by the author 's entitled ' 111 Humor '* ; 
 Though in the play 't is not found, still by the play 't is engendered." 
 
 I visited one Salzmann, a famous practical pedagogue, who 
 has established a large and distinguished seminary at Schnep- 
 fenthal.* This Salzmann has made himself generally known 
 by the very elaborate and solicitous attention he pays to the 
 gymnastical part of education, by the anti-disciplinarian prin- 
 ciples, and by the universal tendency and direction of the 
 studies. I saw that the boys were healthy, happy, and coura- 
 geous. And Salzmann seemed to have succeeded in the diffi- 
 cult task (which the French have found impracticable) of 
 giving liberty and repressing licentiousness. The boys are on 
 no occasions struck, — this is a fundamental law. Another is 
 to give them freedom in everything not obviously dangerous. 
 They botanize and study natural history, and take long jour- 
 neys with their preceptors on foot over the mountains. They 
 climb trees, jump over hedges, swim, skate, &c., &c., and, as far 
 
 * A village near Waltershausen, in the Duchy of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. 
 
134 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. L^hap. 8, 
 
 as general culture of the active powers is concerned, there is 
 much to be applauded, but I fear solid learning h neglected, 
 and the institution is not without affectation, and even what 
 looks like quackery. A newspaper is printed here containing 
 a history of all remarkable occurrences, prizes given, incidents 
 in the house, exercises performed, visits of strangers, &c. With 
 edifying improvements, Salzmann translated Mary WoUstone- 
 craft's " Rights of Women," and he was in correspondence with 
 her. One of her children's books is a translation of a work by 
 him. 
 
 After my return, Knebel was anxious to take me to Weimar 
 to see his sister, governess to the Hereditary Princess, and also 
 Fraiilein von Geckhausen, the Hofdame to the Duchess Dowa- 
 ger. We went on the 27th of October. I had the honor of 
 sipping chocolate in the presence of the young Princess. I also 
 visited Frau von WoUzogen, Schiller's wife's sister, afterwards 
 his biographer, and I witnessed the performance of '' Turan- 
 dot." * This fairy tale, by Schiller, an imitation of Gozzi, is 
 not considered one of his great works ; but it proved versatility 
 of talent, and afforded an opportunity of trying an experiment. 
 It was played with masks, and certainly gave pleasure as soon 
 as the spectators were reconciled to the novelty. At each per- 
 formance, for some time, the interest was enhanced by the in- 
 troduction of fresh riddles, by which the Chinese Princess tried 
 the skill of her unwelcome lover. 
 
 On the 24th of November, an occurrence took place which 
 at one time threatened me with serious consequences, but 
 which eventually was of service to me by occasioning my 
 introduction to the Duchess. Of all the Jena professors, the 
 
 most unpopular was E . He had the ear of the Grand 
 
 Duke, but was disliked both by his colleagues and the stu- 
 dents. He lectured this session on Homer and the Roman 
 satirists. One of the students had put into my hands a com- 
 mentary on Horace, from which we saw that the Professor read 
 
 page after page. As soon as the lecture was over, and E 
 
 had left the room, I called out to the students, " Gentlemen, I 
 will read you the lecture over again," and began reading ; I was 
 
 a little too soon, E was within hearing, and rushed back to 
 
 the room. An altercation ensued, and I was cited before the 
 Prorector. It was reported that I should be sent away, that is, 
 receive the consilium aheundi. My friend Knebel took up my 
 
 * Turandot, Prinzessin von China. Ein tragikomisches Mahrchen nach 
 Gozzi. 
 
1804.] GERMANY. 135 
 
 cause zealously. The Proreetor interrogated me, and I related 
 to him all that I could. In the Senate, my chief friend was the 
 great jurist Thibaut, who, next to Savigny, was one of the great 
 law authorities of the day in Germany. I soon learned that 
 
 E had succeeded in misrepresenting the affair ; and from 
 
 Thibaut I received the advice to draw up a formal statement, 
 and present it to the Proreetor, with the request that he would 
 lay it before the Senate. This I did ; and I added a letter from 
 a student corroborating every important fact, especially the fact 
 that E had merely read from Haverkamp. The Senate re- 
 quested the Professor to send in his answer. Thibaut said that 
 for his own part he would never consent to my receiving the 
 consilium, — for either I ought to be expelled with infamy as a 
 liar, or T had told the truth, and then the less said about the 
 
 matter the better. It was discovered that E was gone to 
 
 Weimar, with the object it was believed of obtaining a Ducal 
 order for my removal ; therefore my friends resolved to intro- 
 duce me to the Grand Duchess. 
 
 The Proreetor affected to be my friend, and said the matter 
 should be made up by the merely nominal punishment of a 
 rustication for two days. I said I should submit to no pun- 
 ishment. If there were a sentence against me, I should appeal 
 to the Duke ; and if that did not avail, I should leave the 
 University, and send a printed copy of my statement to all 
 the other Universities. In my paper, I stated that if I were 
 accused of making a false charge of plagiarism, I pledged my- 
 self to prove the charge. The Professor never answered my 
 memorial ; and so the matter ended. 
 
 In the mean while, however, it took me to Weimar. The 
 Dowager Duchess Amelia, a niece of Frederick, King of 
 Prussia, was a very superior woman ; and German literatm-e 
 is imder infinite obligations to her. She was the especial pa- 
 troness of Wieland and Herder, but was honored by Goethe, 
 Schiller, and indeed by every one. The first day I dined with 
 her I felt as much at my ease as the last. Wieland was always 
 at her table. On the present occasion she desired me to be at 
 the theatre in Schiller's box. I called on him, and went with 
 his party. The Duchess came and stood next me, and chatted 
 
 with me. E was in the pit, and it was supposed the sight 
 
 of me must have taken away his last hope of success. At all 
 events, all apprehension on my account was removed early in 
 the new year by my public appearance under the Duchess 
 Dowager's protection. 
 
136 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother. 
 
 March 2, 1805. 
 
 The Duchess is certainly one of the most estimable of the 
 German princesses, and is not unworthy of being a niece of 
 Frederick II. At the theatre I saw the wonder of the North, 
 and the object of every one's idolatry here, — the hereditary 
 Princess of Saxe- Weimar. As my residence here has given 
 you an interest in everything that concerns our little court, I 
 take for granted that you are not ignorant that a few months 
 since our Hereditary Prince brought home his bride, — the 
 sister of the Emperor of Russia, and a daughter of Paul. All 
 tongues are lavish of her praise, and indeed she seems to be 
 really an extraordinary person. She is young, and possesses a 
 most cultivated mind and accomplished address. I stood by 
 her some time, and smiled at myself at remarking the effect 
 she had on me, — since, excellent as I doubt not she is, I am 
 still sensible that the strange sensation I felt at hearing her 
 say common things was principally occasioned by the magic of 
 title and name. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GERMANY. 1805. 
 
 IN 1805 Jena was to sustain a fresh loss in the departure 
 of Voss, to whom a pension of 1,000 dollars a year was 
 offered on the simple condition of his living at Heidelberg. 
 On the other hand, there came to live at Weimar Mr. and 
 Mrs. Hare Nay lor, whom I found a very valuable addition to 
 my circle of acquaintance. He was the son of the Whig- 
 Bishop Hare, and she the daughter of Bishop Shipley, brother 
 of the patriotic Dean of St. Asaph, whom Erskine defended in 
 the prosecution for publishing Sir W. Jones's famous Dialogue. 
 The Hare Naylors had young children, of whom, at the time I 
 am writing, the Archdeacon Julius is the only sm'vivor. Miss 
 Flaxman lived with them as governess.* 
 
 I have now to mention an event which cast its shadow far 
 
 * Vide Memoir of Julius Hare prefixed to the last edition of " Guesses at 
 Truth." The property of Hurstmoiiceux came into the Naylor family in 1701, 
 and was sold by Francis Hare Naylor in 1807. The name Nay lor therefore was 
 doubtless assumed by Francis HaVe in order to inherit this property. 
 
1805.] vHi germanyT 137 
 
 and wide, but especially over the neighborhood of Weimar, — 
 the death of Schiller. 
 
 It has frequently been to me a subject of regret that during 
 my residence at Jena I did not take more pains to be received 
 into the society of the great poets of Weimar. I saw Schiller 
 occasionally, as well as the others ; but I did not push myself 
 into their notice. This indeed I cannot regret. The only 
 conversation I recollect having had with Schiller arose from 
 my asking whether he did not know English, as I saw German 
 translations of Shakespeare among his books. He said : '' I 
 have read Shakespeare in English, but on principle not much. 
 My business in life is to write German, and I am convinced 
 that a person cannot read much in foreign languages without 
 losing that delicate tact in the perception of the power of 
 words which is essential to good writing." I also asked him 
 whether he was acquainted with Lillo. He said he began a 
 play founded on the story of " George Barnwell." He thought 
 highly of Lillo's dramatic talent. I told him the story of 
 " Fatal Curiosity," which he thought a good subject. By the 
 by, Werner after this \^T:-ote a mystical play with the same 
 plot, and called it " The 24th of February," on which day, 
 for several generations, horrible events take place in a doomed 
 family. 
 
 During all the time I was at Jena, Schiller was in poor 
 health, though at this time his gTeatest works were produced. 
 He lived in a very retired way ; and his habit was to write at 
 midnight, taking a great deal of coffee as a stimulant. The 
 report of his being in a dangerous state had already been 
 spread abroad. Friday, the 10th of May, was Fries's last day 
 at Jena, and as usual I went with him and others to take 
 after-dinner coffee at Zwatzen. I left the party early, to keep 
 an engagement to drink tea with Knebel at Fahrenkriiger's. 
 While I was there some one came in with the news, — " Schil- 
 ler ist todt." Knebel sprang up, and in a loud voice ex- 
 claimed, whilst he struck the table violently, " Der Tod ist der 
 einzige dumme Junge." It was ridiculous and pathetic. Dear 
 KnebeFs passions were always an odd combination of fury and 
 tenderness. He loved Schiller, and gave to his feelings imme- 
 diate and unconsidered expression. He had no other w^ord for 
 them now than the comic student word of offence, the prelude 
 to a duel, '' Death is the only fool." I had engaged to go to 
 a party in honor of Fries, and I went. We stayed up late, 
 student- songs were sung, but we could not be glad ; for there 
 
138 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 was not one of us who did not grieve for the loss of Schiller, 
 though perhaps no one was intimate with him. 
 
 I went next day to Weimar, where I remained till the 14th. 
 I spent the Saturday in various company, for I had now many 
 acquaintances. Schiller's death and character were the sole 
 subjects of conversation. At a party at Fraulein Geckhau- 
 sen's I was involved in a foolish squabble. I said unguardedly, 
 " The glory of Weimar is rapidly passing away." One of the 
 Kammerherrn (gentlemen of the chamber) was offended. 
 ^*A11 the poets might die," he said angrily, ^*but the court of 
 Weimar would still remain." The ladies took my part ; they 
 said, truly, that I was of course referring to no court glory. 
 I was alluding to that in which W^eimar threw into the shade 
 Berlin, St. Petersburg, and Vienna. 
 
 The interment of Schiller took place by night. Voss came 
 from Jena to be one of the bearers. It rained ; I was de- 
 pressed, and as there was to be no address or ceremony, I did 
 not attend. This I have since regretted. 
 
 Next day I dined quietly with Mrs. Hare. No one was 
 with her but Miss Flaxman. I found Mrs. Hare's conversation 
 very interesting. She had known Priestley ; and lent me the 
 life of her brother-in-law. Sir W. Jones, of her connection with 
 whom she was proud. 
 
 On the 13th I dined with the Duchess Dowager. Wieland 
 was present, and spoke of Schiller's poetical character, remark- 
 ing, with I believe perfect truth, that Schiller's excellence lay 
 more in lyrical poetry than in dramatic. In reference to him- 
 self, Wieland said he was a precocious child.. At four years 
 of age he began Latin ; at eight understood Cornelius Nepos 
 as well as if he had written it ; and at fourteen was well ac- 
 quainted with Horace. 
 
 One little incident I must not forget. The Grand Duchess 
 showed me a copy of Goethe's quarto volume, " Winckelmann 
 und sein Jahrhundert," which she had just received from him. 
 On taking it into my hand, there fell from it a slip of paper, 
 on which was written a distich. I never felt so strong a temp- 
 tation to commit a theft. But I brought away a copy of the 
 lines, without stealing : — I 
 
 " Freundlich empfan^e das Wort laut ausgesprochner Verehrung, | 
 
 Das die Parze mir fast schnitt von den Lippen hinweg." > 
 
 [" Kindly receive the expression of loudly avowed veneration, 
 Though from before my lips Fate nearly snatched it away."] 
 
 That Goethe's life was in danger when Schiller died is well 
 
 ] 
 
 4 
 
1805.] GERMANY. 139 
 
 known; and this distich shows that about this time his 
 " Winckelmann " was written. 
 
 On the 8th of June I dined with the Duchess for the fourth 
 time, and found Wieland very communicative. He spoke of 
 French Hteratiire, and I asked him to recommend some French 
 novels. He said, of Count Hamilton opera omnia. He praised 
 even the tales of Crebillon, — " Le Sopha," "■ Ah, quelle Conte," 
 and " Memoires d'un Homme de Qualite," and some works bv 
 Abb6 Prevost. He spoke also of English literature, to which 
 he confessed great obligations. I had mentioned that the first 
 book I recollected having read was the " Pilgrim's Progress." 
 " That dehghts me," he said, " for in that book I learned to 
 read English. English literature had a great influence on me ; 
 and your Puritan ^vriting-s particularly. The first book I at- 
 tempted to write was an imitation of Mrs. Rowe's ' Letters 
 from the Dead to the Living.' " This was one of the favorite 
 books of my own dear mother. Wieland went on to say : 
 ** The next work I read was a large didactic poem on Grace. I 
 said to myself, in future no one will speak of Lucretius. After 
 this I became acquainted with the lighter English poetry. I 
 made my ' Komische Erzahlungen ' in imitation of Prior. I was 
 fond of Gay." Wieland thought English literature had de- 
 clined since the age of Queen Anne. 
 
 On a later occasion I saw still more of Wieland. It was 
 when Knebel took me to Tieffurth, the country residence of 
 the Duchess. I rode with Wieland tete-a-tete to Tiefiurth, from 
 his own house ; and he spoke of his own works with most in- 
 teresting frankness. He considered his best work to be " Mu- 
 sarion." He had gone over it with Goethe line by line. He 
 was sensible that the characteristic of his prose style is what 
 the Greeks called (rrcofivXia, — not mere chatter, " Geschwatz," 
 but an agreeable diffuse iiess. 
 
 At dinner I told him of the new publication of Gleim's 
 Letters, and quoted a passage written by Gleim in Switzerland 
 when Wieland, a mere lad, was staying at the house of Bod- 
 mer : " There is a clever young man here now named Wieland, 
 — a great talker, and a great writer. It is a pity that, as 
 one can see, he will very soon have exhausted himself." " Ich 
 erschopft ! " (*' I exhausted ") Wieland cried out, clasping his 
 hands. " Well, well ! I am now in my seventy-fourth year 
 (or seventy-third), and, by the blessing of God, I will still write 
 more than he ever did, and it shall last longer too." This he 
 said of the poet of Frederick the Great, whom the last gen- 
 
140 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 eration used to regard as a Horace, and still more as a Tyr- 
 tseus. 
 
 After dinner I read aloud, among other things, a good trans- 
 lation by Schmidt of "Auld Robin Gray," which was much 
 admired. Wieland told us to-day of his early attachment to 
 Madame de la Roche. He said, " It was well it came to noth- 
 ing, for we should have spoiled each other." 
 
 Humboldt, the great traveller, on his return from America, 
 was presented to the Emperor Napoleon. Now, Humboldt 
 himself is a sort of Buonaparte among travellers, and expected 
 to be distinguished. '^ Vous aimez la botani([ue," said the Em- 
 peror to him, " et ma femme aussi " ; and passed on. Is it 
 not admirable'? There are many occurrences of great and 
 little moment in life which can only be understood from their 
 relation to the character of the actor. Was this address of 
 Buonaparte humor, or satire, or insolence, or impertinence] 
 Did he deserve a kick or a pat 1 Ask his lord in waiting. 
 
 At the close of my residence in Jena I became rather inti- 
 mate with a woman whose history is very remarkable, especial- 
 ly as given by herself in detail. This was Frau von Einsiedel. 
 Compelled to marry against her will, she found her husband 
 so unfit for a woman to live with, that she feigned death, and, 
 making her escape, caused a log of wood to be buried in her 
 stead. When the truth was discovered, a legal divorce took 
 place, and she became the wife of Herr von Einsiedel, who had 
 been the companion of her flight. She gave me an account of 
 her strange adventures, that I might not despise her in the 
 distant country to which I was about to return. All she said 
 was in language the most delicate, and was indicative of the 
 most refined sensibility. She was held in high esteem by 
 Knebel and Wieland, and retained the regard of the Duchess 
 Dowager. I saw her repeatedly with the Duchess when 
 she came to Jena, and took up her residence at the castle, in 
 order to attend a course of lectures on Craniology by Dr. Gall. 
 
 This science of Craniology, w^hich keeps its place in the 
 world, though not among the universally received sciences, 
 was then quite new. One or two pamphlets had appeared, 
 but the gloss of novelty w^as still upon it. Goethe deemed it 
 worthy of investigation, and, when a satire upon it w^as put 
 into the form of a drama, would not allow it to be acted. The 
 Duchess, who had a very active mind and a universal curiosity, 
 took a warm interest in the lectures, and was miremitting in 
 her attendance at them. 
 
1805.] GERMANY. 141 
 
 Gall, whom the Duchess invited me to meet at dinner, was 
 a large man with a florid countenance, — of the same general 
 complexion as Astley Cooper and Chantrey. He had not been 
 brought up in cultivated society ; and so utterly wanting in 
 tact was he, that on one occasion, having enumerated the dif- 
 ferent organs on a marked skull, he turned to the Duchess 
 and regularly catechized her as if she had been an ordinary 
 student. '' What 's the name of that organ, your Highness V 
 She gave me a very signiiicant look, and smiled : there was a 
 titter round the table, and the Professor looked abashed. Gall 
 was attended by Spurzheim, as his famulus, who received our 
 fee for the lectures. 
 
 It occurred to me that I might make this new science known 
 in England, and accordingly I purchased of Spurzheim, for 
 two Friedrichs d'or, a skull marked with the organs. I 
 bought also two pamphlets, one by Hufeland, and the other by 
 Bischof, explanatory of the system. And soon after my re- 
 turn to London I compiled on the subject a small volume, 
 which was published by Longman.* The best part of the 
 book was a happy motto from Sir Thomas Brown, for which I 
 take credit : " The finger of God hath left an inscription upon 
 all his works, not graphical or composed of letters, but of their 
 several forms, constitutions, parts, and operations, which, apt- 
 ly joined together, do make one word that doth express their 
 nature." The work itself excited hardly any public interest ; 
 but just at the time a new and enlarged edition of Kees's 
 Cyclopaedia was coming out, and the whole substance of the 
 article on Craniology was copied from my work, the source be- 
 ing suitably acknowledged. 
 
 My student life was rapidly drawing to a close, — or per- 
 haps I should say rather my life at Jena, — for I must confess 
 I owe more to the society I enjoyed there than to what I 
 learned in the lecture-rooms of the professors. My memoran- 
 da of my reading in Greek and Latin are to me a source of 
 mingled shame and consolation, — consolation that I did not 
 wholly neglect the great authors of antiquity, and shame that 
 so little of what I read remains. To German literature and 
 philosophy I continued also to devote a part of my time. But 
 latterly I attended fewer lectures, and read more with friends 
 and private tutors. 
 
 * Some Account of Dr. Gall's New Theory of Physiognomy, founded on 
 the Anatomy and Physiology of the Brain, and the Form of the Skull. With 
 the Critical Strictures of C". W. Hufeland, M. D. London: Loneman & Co. 
 1807. 
 
142 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 On the 8th of August, 1805, I went to Weimar to take 
 leave. The Duchess was exceedingly kind, as also was Wie- 
 land. When I called on him he was writing, and I apologized 
 for the interruption. " I am only copying," he said. On my 
 expressing some surprise that he had not an amanuensis, he 
 said : " I believe I have spent one sixth part of my life in copy- 
 ing, and I have no doubt it has had a salutary effect on me. 
 Having devoted myself to the composition of works of imagi- 
 nation, copying has had a sedative and soothing influence, and 
 tended to keep my mind in a healthy state." He was then 
 copying one of the comedies of Aristophanes. He said he 
 meant to translate all but two, which he deemed untranslata- 
 ble. One was " Peace " ; the title of the other I forget. 
 
 On the 15th of August I left Jena. It was my good fortune 
 to come to Jena while the ancient spirit was still alive and ac- 
 tive, and I saw the last not altogether insignificant remains of 
 a knot of public teachers who have seldom been surpassed in 
 any university. I have seen, too, a galaxy of literary talent 
 and genius, which future ages will honor as the poetical orna- 
 ment of the eighteenth century, and place above the more 
 showy but less sterling beaux-esprits of France who flourished 
 thirty or forty years before. Of my leave-taking at Jena I 
 will only say that I parted with no one with so much regret 
 as Knebel. My friend Voigt accompanied me three leagues. 
 On the 21st I reached Brunswick, and on the 24th took my 
 place in the Post-wagen to Hamburg. In this journey I had 
 a narrow escape of being taken prisoner. I travelled with a 
 passport, which I had procured as a Saxon. I was not with- 
 out anxiety, for I had to pass through the French army, which 
 was in possession of the north of Germany. Through the in- 
 terposition of the King of Prussia, Hamburg had been declared 
 neutral territory ; but I at that time spoke German fluently, 
 and did not fear detection by Frenchmen. A more wearisome 
 journey than the one I had now to make cannot be found, 
 certainly in Germany. One of the passengers was a French- 
 man, who rendered himself disagreeable to all the rest. I 
 afterwards found that he was even then in the French service. 
 On the way he and I had two or three rather angry discussions 
 in German. But I was not fully aware till afterwards of 
 the peril I encountered in his company. I read occasionally, 
 and as often as I could walked forward, wishing there had been 
 hills to give me more opportunity of walking. On one occa- 
 sion I had gone on a considerable distance, when I came to a 
 
1805.]. '^^K GERMANY. ^^^^Hl 143 
 
 turnpike, the keeper of which had a countenance which struck 
 me as remarkably like that of Erskine. Two soldiers were 
 riding at a distance. I said to the man, "Who are theyl" 
 
 " Gens-d'armes." 
 
 " What are they about ? " 
 
 " Looking after suspicious characters." 
 
 " Do you mean people who have no passes 1 " 
 
 " Ay, and those who have passes, — Englishmen who try to 
 pass for Germans." 
 
 He laughed, and so did I. It was evident he had detected 
 nie, but I was in no danger from him. He said also : " Perhaps 
 they are on the lookout for some one. They have their spies 
 everywhere." This I own made me feel a little uncomfortable, 
 and pat me on my guard. In the evening, about six, the second 
 day, we passed through LUneburg, which was full of French 
 soldiers. At length, about 1 a. m., we arrived at the Elbe, 
 where the military were stationed whose duty it was to ex- 
 amine our passports. But it was too much trouble to rise 
 from bed, and we were at once ferried over the river to the 
 Hamburg side, where we were under Prussian protection. As 
 soon as we were again in the carriage, and in motion, I felt un- 
 able to repress my feeling of triumph, and snapping my finger 
 at the Frenchman, said, " Nun, Herr, ich bin ein Englander " 
 (" Now, sir, I am an Englishman"). He did not conceal his 
 mortification, and said, " You ought to have been taken pris- 
 oner for your folly in running such a risk," — in which perhaps 
 he was not far wi'ong. Had he discovered me a quarter of an 
 hour before I should probably have been packed off to France, 
 and kept prisoner till 1813. I was afterwards told by several 
 of my fellow-passengers that they suspected me, and were ap- 
 prehensive on my account. 
 
 At Hamburg I saw Iffland in the comedy entitled " Auss- 
 teuer," — one of the most perfect pieces of acting I ever saw. 
 His character was that of a low-minded Amtmann, an incarna- 
 tion of apathy. I still recollect his look and voice. They were 
 not to be forgotten. It is the one character in which he ap- 
 peared most perfect, though I saw him in others of greater ce- 
 lebrity. 
 
 I remained at Hamburg but a short time, returning to Eng- 
 land by the ordinary way. 
 
 It was a critical moment. The very packet which took me 
 over to England carried the news of the fatal battle of Auster- 
 litz, which inflicted a deep wound on the already crippled power 
 
144 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 of Austria. This victory encouraged Buonaparte to fresh in- 
 sults on Prussia, which soon led to a Prussian war. And as 
 Prussia had looked on quietly, if not complacently, when the 
 battle of Austerlitz was fought, so Austria beheld with a kind 
 of resentful composure the victory gained by the French over 
 the Prussians at Jena. 
 
 On our very disagreeable voyage we were not without fear of 
 being attacked by a French privateer ; but, on the 1 7th of Sep- 
 tember, w^e arrived safely at Yarmouth, and on the 19th I pro- 
 ceeded to Bury. I enjoyed the drive, the excellence of the 
 roads, and the swiftness of the stage-coach ; and the revival of 
 home feelings delighted me. On the way I saw my father for 
 a moment ; and on arriving at Bury, between twelve and one 
 at night, I ran down to my brother's house to see whether by 
 accident any one of the family was still up. As this was not 
 the case, I went back to the Greyhound to sleep. In my walk 
 I was uncomfortably impressed with the lowness and smallnesa 
 of the Bury houses. And now I will confess to having indulged 
 myself in a little act of superstition. I had not heard of my 
 brother for some months ; and as a charm against any calamity 
 to him or his family, I enumerated all possible misfortunes, with 
 the feeling which I have had through life, that all calamities 
 come unexpectedly ; and so I tried to insure a happy meeting 
 by thinking of " all the ills that flesh is heir to." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 1805-1806. 
 
 AFTER my long absence in Germany, it was a great pleas- 
 ure to see my English friends ; and for some wrecks I 
 spent most of my time with them. To those who lived in 
 the country I paid visits. 
 
 In December I formed a new acquaintance, of which I was 
 reasonably proud, and in the recollection of which I still re- 
 joice. At Hackney I saw repeatedly Miss Wakefield,* a 
 charming girl. And one day at a party, when Mrs. Barbauld 
 had been the subject of conversation, and I had spoken of her 
 in enthusiastic terms, Miss Wakefield came to me and said, 
 
 * The daughter of Gilhert Wakefield. 
 
1805-6.] MRS. BARBAULD. 145 
 
 *' Would von like to know Mrs. Barbauld 1 " I exclaimed, 
 " You might as well ask me whether I should like to know 
 the angel Gabriel." — " Mrs. Barbauld is, however, much 
 more accessible. I will introduce you to her nephew." She 
 then called to Charles Aikin, whom she soon after married. 
 And he said : '' I dine every Sunday with my uncle and aunt 
 at Stoke Newington, and I am expected always to bring a 
 friend with me. Two knives and forks are laid for me. Will 
 you go with me next Sunday 1 " Gladly acceding to the pro- 
 posal, I had the good fortune to make myself agreeable, and 
 soon became intimate in the house. 
 
 Mr. Barbauld had a slim figure, a weazen face, and a shrill 
 voice. He talked a great deal, and was fond of dwelling on 
 controversial points in religion. He was by no means desti- 
 tute of ability, though the afflictive disease was larking in 
 him, which in a few years broke out, and, as is well known, 
 caused a sad termination to his life. 
 
 Mrs. Barbauld bore the remains of great personal beauty. 
 She had a brilliant complexion, light hair, blue eyes, a small 
 elegant figure, and her manners were very agreeable, with 
 something of the generation then departing. She received mc 
 very kindly, spoke very civilly of my aunt Zachary Crabb, and 
 said she had herself once slept at my father's house. Mrs. 
 Barbauld is so well known by her prose writings that it is 
 needless for me to attempt to characterize her here. Her ex- 
 cellence lay in the soundness and acuteness of her understand- 
 ing, and in the perfection of her taste. In the estimation of 
 Wordsworth she was the first of our literary women, and he 
 was not bribed to this judgment by any especial congeniality 
 of feeling, or by concurrence in speculative opinions. I may 
 here relate an ianecdote connecting her and Wordsworth, 
 though out of its proper time by many, many years ; but it 
 is so good that it ought to be preserved from oblivion. It 
 was after her death that Lucy Aikin published Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld's collected works, of which I gave a copy to Miss 
 Wordsworth. Among the poems is a stanza on Life, written 
 in extreme old age. It had delighted my sister, to whom I 
 repeated it on her death-bed. It was long after I gave these 
 works to Miss Wordsworth that her brother said, " Repeat me 
 that stanza by Mrs. Barbauld." I did so. He made me re- 
 peat it again. And so he learned it by heart. He was at the 
 time walking in his sitting-room at Bydal with his hands be- 
 hind him ; and I heard him mutter to himself, " I am not in 
 
 VOL. I. 7 J 
 
146 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 the habit of grudging people their good things, but I wish I 
 had written those Hues." 
 
 " Life ! we 've been long together, 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather: 
 'T is hard to part when friends are dear, 
 Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear: 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 
 Choose thine own time ; 
 Say not good night, but in some brighter clime 
 Bid me good morning." 
 
 My friend Collier had taken up his residence in a small 
 house in Little Smith Street, to the west of the Westminster 
 School. A bedroom was offered me, and here I was glad to 
 take refuge while I was equally without a home and without 
 employment. The most important of his engagements — im- 
 portant also to me eventually — was that of reporter to the 
 Times, under the management of John Walter, then the 
 junior.* 
 
 When the round of my acquaintance had been run through, 
 I set about finding some literary occupation, for I found my- 
 self unable to live with comfort on my small income, though 
 with my economical habits I needed only a small addition. 
 
 My first engagement was to translate a political work against 
 Buonaparte, for which a bookseller named Tipper, of Fen- 
 church Street, gave me a guinea and a half per sheet. My 
 friend King Fordham thought some diplomatic post abroad 
 would be suitable to me, and exerted himself in my behalf. 
 C. J. Fox wrote that he thought it probable he should soon 
 have occasion for the services of a person of my description. 
 I went so far as to offer myself to Mr. Fox, but nothing came 
 of it. And it is well, for I am not conscious of possessing 
 the kind of talent required for the position of a diplomatist. 
 Another thought was that I might be engaged as travelling 
 companion to some young man. And there was at one time 
 some prospect of my going to America in this capacity. 
 George Dyer suggested my name to a gentleman, whose sons 
 or nephews were desirous of visiting the New World ; and I 
 had several interviews with the celebrated American mechanist 
 Fulton, who invented the Catenarian and Torpedo, and of- 
 fered to Buonaparte to destroy the whole English fleet by 
 means of explosives. Dining with him one day, I spoke of i 
 
 the *' Perpetual Peace " of Kant. Fulton said, ^^ I believe in I 
 
 the * Perpetual Peace ' " ; and on my expressing surprise, he 
 
 * The father of the recent M. P. for Berkshire. 
 
r 
 
 1806.] THE FORUM. 147 
 
 added, " I have no doubt war will be put an end to by being 
 rendered so murderous that by common consent it w411 be 
 abandoned. I could myself make a machine by means of 
 which I could in a few minutes destroy a hundred thousand 
 men." After some time I was informed that the visit to 
 America was postponed, and I heard no more of it.* 
 
 It was natural that, after having been away six years, I 
 should be curious to see the old Forum where I had formed 
 the valuable acquaintance of the Colliers. They too were 
 desirous that I should go. The old place, the " old familiar 
 faces," were there. I have forgotten the question, but I spoke, 
 and was siurprised at the start I had taken. I went a second 
 time, and it was, I believe, this evening that an incident oc- 
 curred which gave me more pleasure than any other praise I 
 ever received. The subject was private theatricals, which 
 Gale Jones defended, and I successfully attacked. I say suc- 
 cessfully, for the success was proved by something more sig- 
 nificant than applause. As I left the room with Mrs. Collier, 
 when it was nearly empty, a little old man was waiting about 
 at the door with a fine young girl under his arm, and on my 
 coming up he stretched out his hand, .and in an agitated voice 
 said : ^' Will you allow me, sir, to take you by the hand, and 
 thank you for your speech to-night ? You have made me a 
 happy man, and I am under everlasting obligations to you." 
 The poor girl colored exceedingly, and I felt for her. I there- 
 fore contented myself with saying that I rejoiced if anything 
 that had fallen from me could be thought by him eventually 
 useful ; and I believe I added, that I wished him to know J 
 had spoken not for the sake of argument, but from my heart. 
 
 On the following week I went to the Forum once more. On 
 my walking up the centre of the room there was general clap- 
 ping, at which I felt so unaffectedly ashamed, that I turned 
 back, and never entered the place again. 
 
 On November 4th I saw '^ Coriolanus." It was a glorious 
 treat. I never saw Kemble so great. He played the aristo- 
 crat so admirably, and the democratic tribunes and the elec- 
 tors of Rome appeared so contemptible, that he drew down 
 
 * At this time Mr. Robinson had in contemplation a work on Kant's Philos- 
 ophy. Friends advised him not to translate any of Kant's works, but under 
 some original form to introduce a considerable 'portion of translated matter. 
 He accordingly proceeded so far as to fix on the following title : " Locke and 
 Kant: or, a Review of the Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century, as it respects 
 the Origin and Extent of Human Knowledge, by H. C. R." But the work was 
 never completed. 
 
148 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 hisses on them. The house was crowded, and I was forced to 
 stand. 
 
 In the month of December the ColUers removed from Little 
 Smith Street to a good house in Hatton Garden, and I accom- 
 panied them. 
 
 By this time I had become acquainted with Charles Lamb 
 and his sister ; for I went with them to the first performance 
 of " Mr. H." at Covent Garden, which took place in the month 
 of December. The prologue was very well received. Indeed 
 it could not fail, being one of the very best in our language. 
 But on the disclosure of the name, the squeamishness of the 
 vulgar taste in the pit showed itself by hisses ; and I recollect 
 that Lamb joined, and was probably the loudest hisser in the 
 house. The damning of this play belongs to the literary 
 history of the day, as its author to the literary magnates of 
 his age.* 
 
 I was introduced to the Lambs by Mrs. Clarkson. And I 
 had heard of them also from W. Hazlitt, who was intimate 
 with them.' They were then living in a garret in Inner Temple 
 Lane. In that humble apartment I spent many happy hours, 
 and saw a greater number of excellent persons than I had 
 ever seen collected together in one room. Talfourd, in his 
 " Final Memorials," has happily characterized this circle. 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 1807. 
 
 IN January, 1807, 1 received, through my friend J. D. Collier, 
 a proposal from Mr. Walter that I should take up my resi- 
 dence at Altona, and become the Times correspondent. I was 
 to receive from the editor of the Hamburger Correspondenten 
 all the public documents at his disposal, and was to have the 
 benefit also of a mass of information of which the restraints 
 of the German press did not permit him to avail himself The 
 honorarium I was to receive was ample with my habits of life. 
 I gladly accepted the offer, and never repented having done so. 
 
 * The farce of " Mr. H." was written by Lamb. Its absurdity turns on the 
 hero being ashamed of his name, which is'^only revealed at the end as Hogs- 
 flesh. 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 149 
 
 M J acquaintance with Walter ripened into friendship, and lasted 
 as long as he lived. 
 
 This engagement made me for the first time a man of busi- 
 ness. How I executed my task may be seen by a file of the 
 Times. My articles are from 'Hhe banks of the Elbe" ; the 
 first is dated in March and the last in August, but there 
 followed three letters from Stockholm and Gottenburg.* 
 
 Having defeated the Prussians at Jena, Napoleon had ad- 
 vanced into Poland, and the anxious attention of all Europe 
 was directed to the campaign now going on there. Hamburg 
 was in the possession of the French. Holstein, appertaining 
 to the kingdom of Denmark, was a neutral frontier province ; 
 and Altona, its capital, was to be my residence as long as it 
 continued to be secure, and as the intelligence of the campaign 
 had interest for English politicians. 
 
 I soon made my arrival known to my one only acquaintance, • 
 Dr. Ehlers, w^ho, however, was sufiicient for all purposes, as he 
 forthwith initiated me into the best society of the place, and 
 provided for my personal comforts by obtaining for me a lodg- 
 ing in a very agreeable family. I lived in the Konigstrasse, in 
 the house of Mr. Pauli, a mercantile agent, who had not been 
 prosperous in business, but who w^as most happy in his wife, 
 — a very sensible and interesting woman, the sister of Poel, 
 the proprietor of the Altona Mercury, a political newspaper in 
 which liberal principles were asserted with discretion and pro- 
 priety. Poel's wife was also a woman of great personal worth, 
 and even of personal attractions, a daughter of the celebrated 
 Professor Busch of Hamburg. These ladies had a friend, 
 Madame Sieveking, who formed with them a society which in 
 few places is equalled. She w^as a widow, residing at Ham- 
 burg, and was a daughter of the well-know^n Reimarus. On 
 the borders of the Elbe, Poel had a country-house, where, 
 especially on Sundays, there used to be delightful dinner- 
 parties. In this house my happiest hours w^ere spent. 
 
 Among the most interesting of those, whose images still live 
 in my memory, is the Count d'Angiviller. He had held in 
 the court of Louis XVI. the office of Intendant of the Palaces, 
 i. e. w^as a sort of Minister of Woods and Forests. His post 
 
 * This correspondence, from "the banks of the Elbe," has reference to the 
 hopes and fears and reports, which ended in the fall of Dantzic, the Battle of 
 Friedland, and the Treaty of Tilsit. The immediate cause of Mr. Robinson's 
 leaving Altona was that naval coalition against England, which rendered it 
 necessary for the British government to send Lord Cathcart to Copenhagen to 
 secure the Danish fleet 
 
150 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 gave him extensive patronage among artists and men of let' 
 ters, with all of whom he had lived on terms of intimacy. 
 His tall person, very dignified manners, rank, and advanced 
 age, combined to render him an object of universal interest. 
 I was proud when I could get into conversation with him. 
 One evening, at a party, I chanced to make use of the phrase, 
 *' Diderot et D'Alembert." He instantly put his hand on my 
 shoulder, and said, " Je vous prie, monsieur, de ne prononcer 
 jamais ces noms au meme temps dans ma presence. Yous 
 me blessez les oreilles." I will not answer precisely for the 
 words, but in substance he continued, " Diderot was a mon- 
 ster, guilty of every vice, but D'Alembert was an angel." 
 
 At the hotel I first saw George Stansfeld,* a young man from 
 Leeds, who came to learn German and to qualify himself for 
 mercantile life. We became intimate and mutually service- 
 able ; and my friendship with him extended afterwards in 
 England to all the members of his family. 
 
 I met one French man of letters, who has a name in con- 
 nection with German philosophy. I thought his manners 
 agreeable, but he did not appear to me likely to recommend 
 the Kantian philosophy successfully to his countrymen. Yet 
 his book, an account of Kant's philosophy, supplied for many 
 years the sole information possessed by the French on that 
 subject. His name was Charles Yillers. 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother. 
 
 Altona, March 23, 1807. 
 
 Dear Thomas : — 
 
 .... My time has been spent very pleasurably indeed. 
 I have seldom in so short a time made the acquaintance of so 
 many excellent persons. My usual good fortune has brought 
 me into the most intelligent circle in Altona ; so that my 
 second residence in Germany yields as much enjoyment as my 
 former. I have at the same time been able to renew my old 
 acquaintances by letter. I have heard from Herr von Knebel 
 and Dr. Yoigt. Both of them have had the good fortune to 
 suffer little or nothing personally by the war ; and Yoigt 
 seems rather to have enjoyed the scenes he has witnessed. 
 Napoleon took up his lodgings in Yoigt's father's house, and 
 dwelt in a room where I have lounged many an hour. This 
 at once secured the house from being plundered, and at the 
 
 * The uncle of the present M. P. for Halifax. 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 151 
 
 same time gave Yoigt an opportunity of seeing most of the 
 Marshals of France and the ruling men of the only ruling 
 power in Europe. Knebel writes with more feeling, but with 
 the resignation of a philosopher, who had foreseen all that has 
 happened, and whose sensations are corrected by an admira- 
 tion of Buonaparte, which was a source of contention between 
 us, and a contempt of the German constitution and Princes, 
 in which I joined with him 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother. 
 
 Altona, June 7, 1807 
 .... How do I spend my time ] I will give a sort of aver- 
 age journal. I rise at seven, and carry into a summer-house 
 in the garden my Italian books ; here I prepare my lesson till 
 nine, w^hen my master comes, and with him a fellow-scholar (a 
 very amiable man who holds an office under government, and is 
 also a man of letters). From nine to ten we receive our Italian 
 lesson, — that is, four mornings of the week. On Sundays and 
 the two post mornings (Wednesday and Saturday) my compan- 
 ion has letters of business to write, and therefore we cannot 
 have lessons. The rest of the morning is spent either in read- 
 ino: Italian or at the Museum. This is a sort of London In- 
 stitution in miniature, — here the newsmongers of the day 
 associate, — every member brings his quota of falsehood or 
 absurdity, reason or facts, as his good luck favors him. Un- 
 fortunately, the former are the ordinary commodities, and I 
 have no little difficulty in understanding or appreciating the 
 fables of the hour. There is more bonhomie than ill-will in 
 this. Every one feels what ought to take place, and every one 
 is apt to confound what ought to be, and what he wishes to 
 be, with what is. Hence we are as often taken in by certain 
 intelligence of Russian and Prussian victories as you can be. 
 Here, too, the politics of the English cabinet are reviewed ; 
 and I hear my old friends the Whig ministers derided and re- 
 proached for their scandalously weak, almost treacherous ad- 
 ministration, while I am unable to say a word in their defence, 
 and can only mutter between my teeth, " God grant that we 
 do not jump out of the frying-pan into the fire ! " At half 
 past one I dine in the house of a clergyman, who, having no 
 wife, keeps a table for a number of bachelors like himself. 
 Our dinner is not very good, but it is very cheap, and the 
 company is better than the dishes. We have two Danish 
 
152 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 officers, two physicians (one a man of talent, but a political 
 despairer, an ex- Jacobin), two jurists, two Englishmen. The 
 other is a young man from Leeds (his name is Stansfeld), for 
 whom I felt something like friendship when I found he is a 
 
 Presbyterian After dinner I either lounge with a book 
 
 on the Elbe, or play chess with Mrs. Ltitchens, a clever woman, 
 the wife of LUfchens, whom I have before mentioned as an old 
 acquaintance of Mr. Clarkson. In the evening I am engaged 
 generally about three times a week in company. Otherwise I 
 go to Aders (Jameson's partner), a very clever, agreeable man ; 
 or he and one or two young men take tea with me. It is thus 
 that day after day has slipt away insensibly, and I have been 
 in danger of forgetting that the continuance of this most 
 agreeable life is very precarious indeed. I am of opinion that 
 it cannot possibly last long. In all probability we shall soon 
 hear of a peace with Russia, or of a general engagement, 
 which, it is ten to one, will end in the defeat of the Allies. 
 In either event I have no doubt the French will take posses- 
 sion of Holstein. I am tolerably easy as to my personal se- 
 curity in this event, and should I even be caught napping and 
 find a couple of gens-d'armes at the side of my bed when I 
 awake some morning, the worst would be an imprisonment. I 
 state the worst, hope the best, and expect neither the one nor the 
 other, x^s long as Russia continues to bid defiance to Buona- 
 parte, we shall be unmolested here. When this last protecting 
 power is crushed or prevented from interfering in the concerns of 
 the South, it is not difficult to foretell the measures the con- 
 queror will take. Austria will again be partitioned, the north- 
 ern maritime powers will be forced to shut up the Baltic, and 
 perhaps arm their fleets against us. And the blockade will 
 cease to be a mere bugbear. Then Napoleon will have to 
 choose between an invasion, which will be a short but hazard- 
 ous experiment ; or, being now (thanks to our Whig adminis- 
 tration) so closely allied to Turkey, he will turn his arms into 
 the East and destroy our Indian empire by an attack from the 
 interior. This latter undertaking would suit the romantic 
 valor and vanity of himself and his people. These things 
 may be prevented by more military skill on the part of the 
 Russians, more character and resolution on the part of the 
 Austrians, and more disinterested zeal in the general cause of 
 Europe on the part of the British administration, than I fear 
 any of these bodies severally possess. The world might be 
 saved if it did not still suffer under an infatuation which re- 
 
1807] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 153 
 
 sembles that of the Egyptian monarch, — " And the Lord 
 struck Pharaoh with bhndness." How many Pharaohs have 
 not sat as then twenty years on the thrones of Europe '? 
 
 But I have omitted some particulars in the account of my- 
 self here, which I must insert. Of all my acquaintances, the 
 most interesting is Mr. Poel. He is the brother of my land- 
 lady, proprietor of the Altona Mercury, a man of letters, afflu- 
 ent and hospitable. He keeps a good table, and gives dinners 
 and suppers several times a week. He was an ardent friend of 
 the French Revolution, but is now in all things an anti-Galli- 
 can. But he is one of the few who, like Mrs, Barbauld's lover, 
 will still '* hope though hope were lost." He is persuaded that 
 in the end the good cause will conquer. .... 
 
 In my attention to the incidents of the day I was unremit- 
 ting. I kept up a constant intercourse with England. On my 
 first arrival I learned that, notwithstanding the aftected neu- 
 trality of Denmark, the post from Altona to England was 
 stopped, and, in consequence, all letters were sent by Mr. 
 Thornton, the English minister there,* privately to Husum. 
 I called on him early, informed him I should regularly send 
 letters under cover to the Foreign Office, which he promised 
 should be pimctually delivered. And he kept his word. 
 
 The progress of the French arms in Poland was the object 
 of overwhelming interest, and the incessant subject of conver- 
 sation with all of us. As we had but one political feeling, — 
 for I cannot call to mind having met with a single partisan of 
 Napoleon, — our social intercourse was not enlivened by con- 
 test ; but I perceived that as the events became more disas- 
 trous, our cordiality increased, and that calamity served to 
 cement friendship. 
 
 I see from my notes that on the 20th of June the fatal news 
 arrived of the great victory obtained over the Russians at Fried- 
 land, on the 14th. In ten days we were further informed of the 
 armistice, which on the 7th of July was succeeded by the peace. 
 But afflicting as these public events were to all of us, it was not 
 till the middle of July that they began to affect me personally. 
 On the 1 4th 1 learned that Mr. Thornton was gone. We had 
 already heard reports that the English fleet was in the Sound, 
 and the seizure of the Danish fleet by the English was the sub- 
 ject of speculation. Had I left Altona then, I could not have 
 been reproached for cowardice ; but I made up my mind to re« 
 
 * He was Minister Plenipt)tentiarv to the Hanse Towns. 
 
 7* 
 
154 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 main where I was, until some act on the part of the govern- 
 ment rendered my departure absolutely necessary. 
 
 Among the persons whose acquaintance I made at Poel's, was 
 Major von Spat, the second in command in the town, under the 
 chief magistrate, the Burgermeister. With the BUrgermeister 
 himself I used to play whist at the Museum. After the depart- 
 ure of Mr. Thornton, and other Englishmen, who had followed 
 his example, I met the Major and said, " Do you not think. Ma- 
 jor, that I am a very bold man in staying here, now that our 
 minister is gone 1 " — " Not at all," he answered. " The Dan- 
 ish government is much too honorable to resent on individuals, 
 who are living in confidence in these dominions, the injustice 
 of a foreign power." But, in the mean while, I took care to put 
 my things in order, that, if necessary, I might decamp with the 
 least possible encumbrance. 
 
 On Sunday, the 16th, however, two days before the actual 
 bombardment of Copenhagen, an end was put to these uncer- 
 tainties, and to my residence in Holstein. In the forenoon I 
 had a call from Mr. Aldebert, my first German friend, with 
 whom T went to Germany in 1800, and who had property to a 
 considerable amount warehoused in this town. 
 
 He, his clerk (Pietsch), another German, and myself, dined 
 at Rainville's beautiful hotel. It was a fine day, and, as usual 
 on Sundays, the gardens of the hotel were full of company. 
 And here the Major renewed his assurance of my safety, '' even 
 should a war break out." After dinner I had a stroll with Stans- 
 feld, who had removed to Hamburg, but had come over to see 
 me. About five o'clock I paid a visit to Madame Lutchens, 
 whose husband was English, and in the service of the English 
 government, in the commissariat department. A month be- 
 fore, as I knew in confidence, he had proceeded to Stralsund. 
 After an hour's chat with her I was going home, when I saw 
 the BUrgermeister in the street, talking with an acquaintance ; 
 but, on my going up to them, he turned away abruptly, aifect- 
 ing not to see me. I thought this gross ill manners, and not 
 warranted even by the reported demonstrations of hostility to- 
 wards Denmark by England. By reference to the "Annual 
 Register" I find it was on the 12th that Lord Cathcart, with 
 a force of 20,000 men, joined the Admiral off Elsinore, and on 
 the 1 6th (the day of which I am now speaking) that the army 
 landed on the island of Zealand, eight miles from Copenhagen. 
 But, of course, the public at Altona knew nothing correctly of 
 these proceedings. On my way to Poel's in the evening I was 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 155 
 
 met by William Sieveking, one of the sons of the lady whom I 
 have mentioned. He had an air of anxiety about him. and told 
 me I was wanted immediately at Mr. Poel's. I must go at 
 once. — something was the matter, but he could not say what. 
 A large party of ladies were in the garden, and as soon as Ma- 
 dame Poel saw me, she exclaimed, '' Thank God, — there he 
 is, — he at least is safe ! " I was then informed that Major 
 von Spat had been there in great trouble. The BUrgermeister 
 had received an order to arrest every Englishman, and at mid- 
 night there was to be a visitation of all the houses occupied by 
 the English. The Major could not bear the thought of my 
 being arrested, for perhaps I had remained there trusting to 
 his assiu-ance of my safety. I was therefore told that I must 
 stay the night at Poel's country-house, and be smuggled next 
 day into Hamburg. But to this 1 would not consent. I in- 
 sisted on at least going back to my lodgings to put money in 
 my purse ; and, disguising myself by borrowing a French hat, 
 I immediately went back. Having arranged my own little 
 matters, I resolved to give notice to all my fellow-countrymen 
 with whose residences I was acquainted. And so effectual 
 were my services in this respect, that no one, whom I knew, 
 was arrested. Indeed the arrests were confined to a few jour- 
 neymen, who were not considered worth keeping. Of course 
 the Holsteiners had no wish to make prisoners, and therefore 
 did their work very negligently. 
 
 I will relate a few anecdotes which have dwelt in my memo- 
 ry ever since. I need not say that the apparent rudeness of 
 the BUrgermeister, which had so much annoyed me, was now 
 accounted for. 
 
 There was one Ogilvy, a merchant, who resided with a law- 
 yer, and to whom I sent the servant with a note. I was in a 
 flurry, and wrote on a slip of paper, which was kept as a curi- 
 osity, and laughed at. It was shown to me afterwards at 
 Hamburg. I had written on it these words : " They '11 catch us 
 if they can to-night. I mean the Danes. I 'm off. — H. C. R." 
 It was shown to the master of the house. " That Robin- 
 son is an arrant coward. It is nothing ; you may depend 
 on it." However, at midnight the police were at the door, 
 and demanded admittance. When asked whether Mr. Ogilvy 
 was at home, the servant, being forewarned, had a prompt 
 answer : *' I don't know. That 's his room. He often sleeps at 
 Hamburg." The police went in, and said to the sleeper, " You 
 are our prisoner." On which Ogilvy's " German servant '* 
 
156 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 awoke. " Why, who are you ] " — " Mr. Ogilvy's servant. My 
 master went to Hamburg last night, and as his bed is softer 
 than mine, I sleep in his when he is away." — '^0, that is it 1 
 Well, it is lucky for him, for we should have taken him. We 
 have nothing to say to you." — " The stupids ! " said Ogilvy ; 
 *' there was my watch on the table, and my clothes were about 
 the room." Rather say, '^ Good-natured fellows." 
 
 I sent a note to Pietsch also. He had more than a thou- 
 sand pounds' worth of Manchester goods in a warehouse. In 
 haste he removed them into a coach-house, and covered them 
 with loose straw. The police came, demanded the keys of 
 the warehouse, sealed the door and windows with the govern- 
 ment seal, and threatened Pietsch with imprisonment if he 
 broke the seal, or entered the warehouse. He solemnly prom- 
 ised he would not, and most honorably kept his word. In the 
 course of a few nights all the goods were transported over the 
 Elbe. The empty warehouse was formally opened by the gov- 
 ernment officers, after the seals had been carefully examined, 
 and it had been found that Pietsch had most conscientiously 
 kept his promise. 
 
 There was then at Altona a Leeds merchant, named Bis- 
 choff, a connection of Stansfeld's. I did not know the name of 
 the street in which he lived, and so was forced to go myself. 
 He was in bed. Young Stansfeld accompanied me, and we went 
 together into his room. After he had heard my story, he said 
 to Stansfeld, " 1st das wahr was er sagt 1 " {'' Is what he says 
 true r') I was half angry, and left him to give notice to one 
 who would receive it more gratefully. There was, however, 
 another Englishman in the house, and he thought it prudent 
 to give heed to the warning ; they went out and begged a 
 lodging in the stable of a garden-house in the suburb leading 
 to Poel's. There they slept. At daybreak, the morning was 
 so fine that they could not believe there was any evil going on. 
 The sunshine made them discredit the story, and they resolved 
 to re-enter the town. Fortunately they saw the servant of 
 Pauli at the gate. " Is Mr. Robinson at home V — " No, sir, 
 he went away last night, and it is well he did, for at midnight 
 there came some soldiers to take him up." This was enough. 
 Bischoff and Elwin took to their heels, and not daring to go 
 into Hamburg by the Altona gate, made a circuit of many 
 miles, and did not arrive at Hamburg till late in the day. 
 
 Having done all that patriotic good-nature required of me, 
 and left everything in order, I went back to Neuemuhle, v/her« 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 157 
 
 a bed was provided for me. Early in the morning Poel said : 
 ^' You cannot possibly remain here. You must go immediately 
 after breakfast to Hamburg. T have ordered a boat to be 
 here, and my children, and some of the Paulis and Sievekings, 
 shall go with yo i ; and if you are questioned you will be the 
 tutor." Accordingly there w^as a boat well filled by the tutor 
 and his pupils. We rowed towards the town, where I noticed 
 at the gate some soldiers sitting in a boat. This was unusual, 
 and seemed to me suspicious. So, as we were approaching, 1 
 said to the boatman, " I never saw Altona from the Hanover 
 side of the river. It must look very pretty from a distance." 
 — " Ay, sir, it does," said the man. "I should like to see 
 it. I '11 give you a klein Thaler (about 2 .s-.) if you will row us 
 to that side." — " Thankee, sir," said the man ; and instantly 
 we crossed the Thalweg, that is, the centre of the river. Now, 
 it would have been a breach of neutrality, — a crime, in any 
 police officers to make an arrest on the Hanoverian territory, 
 which included the left side of the river, — and I was there 
 safe. To be perfectly secure, I would not land at the first Ham- 
 burg gate, but was rowed to the second.* There the tutor 
 dismissed his pupils, and I went in search of Mr. Aldebert at 
 his lodgings. 
 
 I found a post-chaise at his door. Pietsch had informed him 
 of what he had been doing on the notice I had given him ; 
 and Mr. Aldebert was then going to Altona partly to look after 
 me. After thanking me for the service I had rendered him, he 
 said : '' I have provided for you here. I occupy the first floor, 
 indeed all the apartments not occupied by the family ; but 
 there is a very smill garret in which you can sleep, and you 
 can use my rooms a^. your own." No arrangement could*^ be 
 better ; and as on the same evening he left for several days, I 
 had the use of his handsome apartments. The house was in 
 the Neue Wall, one of the most respectable streets : it was 
 among those burnt down in the late conflagration. t But I 
 cannot pretend that my mind was quite at ease, or that I was 
 not sensible of the peril of my situation. 
 
 My clothes were brought piecemeal, and at last came my 
 empty trunk. Among the German merchants I had several 
 acquaintances, and I occasionally met my English fellow-refu- 
 gees. The French government at this nioment cared nothing 
 about us ; nor the Danish, as it seemed, though, as I after- 
 
 * The French took possession of Hamburor after the battle of Jena, in 1806 
 A This -was written in 1853; the fire took phice in 3842. 
 
158 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 wards learned, I was an exception to this general indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 I have a very imperfect recollection of the incidents of the 
 next few days, and I did not think it prudent to keep in my 
 possession letters or memoranda which might compromise my 
 friends. 
 
 H. C. R. TO J. D. Collier, Esq. 
 
 Hamburg, August 22, 1807. 
 My dear Friend : — 
 
 .... You may think that a long letter of gossip would be 
 very charming from a person in my situation ; it would be 
 absolutely romantic, and would be as far preferable to one from 
 an ordinary correspondent, as an elopement in the eyes of Miss 
 Lydia Languish to being asked at church. This is all very well 
 for the reader, but not so for the ^nriter. Give me leave to 
 assure you that a man who is a prisoner, or, what is much the 
 same thing, liable to become so every hour of his life, has 
 little inclination to sit down and, as the phrase is, open his 
 heart to his friends, because he is never sure that his enemies 
 
 may not choose at the same time to take a peep In the 
 
 mean while I shall be forced to abstain from the enjoyment of 
 almost all direct communication ^ith my friends at home. 
 .... Within the last three days nothing of importance has 
 occurred. 
 
 25th August Hitherto my good spirits have not often 
 
 left me ; and I assure you it is the reflected concern of 
 my different friends at home that most affects me. I must 
 add, too, that I feel my own personal affairs to be infinitely 
 insignificant compared with the dreadful calamity that over- 
 hangs us all. Never was England so nearly in the jaws of 
 
 ruin My late escape and that of my countrymen has 
 
 occasioned me to observe many interesting and gratifying 
 scenes. I, for my part, felt more flattered by being the object 
 of concern to so many charming women, than alarmed by the 
 personal danger. I have also made an observation curious to 
 the psychologist, and that is the perfect repose which arises 
 from the consciousness that nothing further is to be done by 
 one's self. Formerly, when I came now and then to Hamburg 
 to buy an old book or chat with a friend, it was done with 
 great anxiety ; and I was not at ease till again within the 
 Altona gates. Now I am quite comfortable, though the dan- 
 ger is ten times greater. I can do no more than I have done- 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 159 
 
 If I am taken, I shall bear as well as I can the positive evils 
 of imprisonment ; but I shall suffer no reproaches from myself 
 nor fear those of others. And it is this which I am most ap- 
 prehensive of If I had the means of escape, and was doubt- 
 ful whether I should avail myself of them, I should be in con- 
 stant alarm and perturbation ; but now I have nothing to do 
 but to amuse myself as well as I can, and watch for opportu- 
 nities of getting off, if any should offer. I am, generally 
 speaking, comfortable. I am not without companions. My 
 kind respects to all. 
 
 On the 19th I accompanied a merchant of the name of 
 Kaufmann to his country-house at an adjacent village. Ham, 
 and strolled about in an unsettled state ; and day by day I 
 gained courage ; but on the 25th I again narrowly escaped 
 capture. 
 
 My friend, the Major, called on me to warn me that I must 
 be on my guard. The governor, or BUrgermeister, Mr. Leve- 
 zow, had said to him that, excepting myself, he was very glad all 
 the English had escaped. The suspicion had entered his mind 
 that I was a secret agent of the government. I could not, he 
 thought, be living at such a place at such a time without some 
 especial purpose. " And I think " (added Yon Spat), " that 
 he has given a hint to the French authorities." I assured the 
 Major that the suspicion was unfounded, and explained to him 
 what might have given occasion to the mistake. " He was 
 glad," he said, " to know this, and he w^ould take care to inform 
 Mr. Levezow of what I had told him." 
 
 It was, however, too late ; for a few hours afterwards, as I 
 was returning home, after a short walk, my attention was ex- 
 cited by a sound — St ! st I But for the information I had 
 just received, I should hardly have noticed it. I looked and 
 saw a fellow, — the letter-carrier between Hamburg and Altona, 
 who knew me well, beckoning to some persons at a little dis- 
 tance ; and at the same time, he looked back and pointed at 
 me. At a glance I perceived that they were French gens- 
 d'armes. They were lolling by the side of a passage, and 
 within sight of my door. 
 
 In an instant I was off. I ran into a market-place full of 
 •people, and was not pursued. If I had been, I have no doubt 
 the populace would have aided my escape. I repaired to the 
 house of one of Mr. Aldebert's friends, a Mr. Spalding, a sena- 
 tor. There I dined. I told mv storv, and it was agreed that 
 
160 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 I should not sleep again at my lodgings. The next day but 
 one Mr. Spalding was going to the Mecklenburg watering- 
 place, Dobberan, with his family. He would take a passport 
 for his clerk, and in that capacity I might accompany him. 
 
 The intermediate day was spent in removing my clothes 
 and taking leave of my friends. Yet in that day I twice 
 thought I saw a suspicious person lurking in the vicinity of 
 my last asylum ; and next day, when I had left the town several 
 hours, my lodging was beset by the military. Some gens- 
 d'armes, without asking any questions, went to my garret, burst 
 open the door, and expressed great disappointment at finding 
 the room empty. They used violent threats towards the 
 women of the house, who told the truth with equal safety to 
 themselves and me. Through a friend I had obtained from 
 the French authorities a visa to my old Jena pass ; and I had 
 a passport from Netzel, the Swedish consul at Altona, with a 
 letter from him, which might, and in fact did, prove useful. 
 Dobberan was then a small village, with a few large houses to 
 accommodate the bathing guests ; but the sea was nearly three 
 miles off. Travelling all night, we arrived on the following 
 day, in time to dine at a table with one hundred and fifty 
 covers, at which the sovereign Duke, though absent this day, 
 was accustomed to take a seat. 
 
 I had now to ascertain what vessels were about to set sail 
 for Sweden. In the afternoon I took a solitary walk to the 
 seaside. There I found none of the " airy forces " which, 
 according to Dr. Watts's bad sapphic, " roll down the Baltic 
 with a foaming fury," but a naked sea-coast with a smooth 
 sea, enlivened by a distant view of several English men-of- 
 war, part of a blockading squadron. 
 
 Next day I took a walk of about ten miles to the little 
 town of Rostock, a university town, and also a seaport. But 
 no vessel was there ; nor had I any prospect of being able to 
 make my escape. In ordinary circumstances, indeed, escape 
 would be an unmeaning term, for I was known to the sov- 
 ereign, who had occasionally chatted with me at Altona. I 
 took an early opportunity of calling upon one of his house- 
 hold, and begged I might be excused for not waiting on His 
 Serene Highness, as I was aware of his position, and was 
 anxious not to embarrass him. This message was very cour- 
 teously received. I was assured of every protection in the 
 Duke's power ; but was requested not to call myself an Eng- 
 lishman, and excuse his affecting not to know me. 
 
180r.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 161 
 
 The good Duke, however, could not act on his own sage 
 counsel, for, as I was one day not far from him at the table- 
 d'hote, but carefully avoiding speaking to him or catching his 
 eye, I was surprised by hearing behind me in a loud whisper, 
 " Prosit Herr Englander." His Serene Highness had filled a 
 bumper, and leaning back behind the guests, drank to me as 
 an Englishman, though he had pretended to consider me an 
 American. And one morning, having walked to the seaside, 
 and jumped into the water from a long board built into the 
 sea (the humble accommodation provided in those days), I 
 was startled by a loud cry, which proceeded from the Duke at 
 the end of the board, — " Herr Englander, Herr Englander, 
 steigen Sie gleich aus — 10,000 Franzosen sind gleich ange- 
 kommen, und wenn Sie nicht aussteigen und w^egiaufen, wird 
 man Sie arretiren." (" Make haste out, Englishman, — 10,000 
 Frenchmen are just come, and unless you come out and run 
 for it, you will be made a prisoner.") 
 
 More good-nature than dignity in this certainly. But the 
 Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin was one of that class of petty 
 sovereigns in Germany, who, if they conferred no honor on 
 their rank and power, did not abuse them to the injury of 
 their subjects. I had a formal oifer from him to send me on 
 board the fleet, which was in the offing, if I would guarantee 
 the safety of his men. This offer I declined. I could be 
 more sure of being taken in than set down again. And mean- 
 while I relied on the friendly interest which every one took in 
 me ; for, though the Mecklenburg flag had been declared hos- 
 tile, I w^as satisfied that every one whom I saw was well dis- 
 posed towards me. 
 
 On the evening of the first of September, I received a letter 
 informing me that a ship was on the point of sailing from 
 Wismar to Stockholm. Next day I proceeded to Wismar, 
 where I remained till the 8th. The only circumstance which 
 made me remember these few days was the intercourse which 
 I had with the guests at the inn, and w^hich I recall w4th 
 pleasure as evidence of the kindness of disposition generally 
 found among those who are free to be actuated by their 
 natural feelings. 
 
 On the evening of my arrival the waiter laid me a cover 
 near the head of the table. Above me sat a colonel of Napo- 
 leon's Italian Guard, who was resting here for a few weeks 
 after the fatigues of the campaign ended by the recent peace. 
 At the head of the table was a Dutch general, then on his 
 
162 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 way to join Napoleon in Prussia. Other officers were present ; 
 and there were also civilians, chiefly merchants. 
 
 I passed myself for a German, talking bad French to the 
 Italians, with whom I soon became well acquainted, and re- 
 mained on the best terms till my departure. They were glad 
 to read a few very common Italian books, which I was able to 
 lend them. Without any hypocrisy, I could praise Italian 
 literature ; and I found I could with perfect safety abuse the 
 French. *^ Is it not to be lamented " (I said in one of our 
 walks after dinner) '' that Italy, which in former ages has been 
 the mistress of the world in different ways, should be over- 
 powered by a nation that never produced a great man ] " This 
 was strong, but not too strong. The eyes of my companions 
 glistened with pleasure. One of them exclaimed, " Don't sup- 
 pose it is the Italians who are conquered by the French. It 
 is the French who are governed by an Italian. As long as 
 Napoleon lives he will be master of Europe. As soon as he 
 goes, Italy will be independent ! " — "I hope to God it will be 
 so ! " Sometimes I ventured to touch on Buonaparte himself; 
 but that was tender ground. They looked gTave, and I 
 stopped. On general politics they talked freely. They had 
 liberal opinions, but little information, — were a sort of re- 
 publican followers of Buonaparte, — good-natured men, with 
 little intelligence, and no fixed principles of any kind, es- 
 pecially on religion. 
 
 One evening a Dutch merchant came. He looked me full 
 in the face and said : '' Napoleon is all but omnipotent ; but 
 there is one thing he cannot do, — make a Dutchman hate an 
 Englishman." I asked him to drink with me. 
 
 Among the stray visitors was a German who had formerly 
 studied at Jena. We became good friends at once. I had 
 told him at table that I was Jenenser (true in one sense). 
 After dinner, when we had gone aside, I said, " I am — " 
 ''You are," he said, interrupting me, ''an Englishman." 
 — " Who told you so T' — " Everybody. Were you not at 
 Rostock a few days ago 1 " — " Yes." — " And did you not sit 
 next a gentleman in green, a Forester 1 " — "I did." — "I 
 thought you must be the same from the description. My 
 father said you talked with admirable fluency, — quite well 
 enough to deceive a Frenchman, — but he had no doubt you 
 had escaped from Altona. I was here a few days ago, and 
 after you had left the room I said to the colonel, 'Who is that 
 gentleman ] ' He said, ' C'est un Anglais qui veut bien 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 163 
 
 jouer TAllemand, mais c'est un bon enfant, — nous le laissons 
 passer.' " 
 
 This information rather assured than alarmed me. From 
 my companions here I had no apprehension ; but I had letters 
 fi'om Stansfeld telling me on no account to return to Hamburg. 
 
 At length, on the 8th of September, after various disap- 
 pointments, the master of the little vessel in which I had 
 taken my passage came to me with the news that he should 
 weigh anchor in an hour. 
 
 I went to my landlady and paid my bill,- my portmanteau 
 being already gone. I said to her, " Do you know what coun- 
 tryman I am '? " — " Lord love you ! " she cried out, ^^ every one 
 knows you. When you walk in the streets, the children say, 
 *Da geht der Englander.'" — "And the Italian officers, do 
 they know who I am T' — " To be sure they do. I have heard 
 them speak about you when they did not suppose I understood 
 them. It is useful in our situation to know more than people 
 are aware of. They like you. I have heard them say they 
 had no doubt you had run away from the Danes. And I am 
 very sure that if they were ordered to take you up, they would 
 give you an opportunity of escape." This I believe. I sent a 
 friendly message to them, with an apology for not taking for- 
 mal leave. 
 
 I made my voyage in a poor little vessel with a cargo of 
 salt fish on board. The voyage lasted five long days. There 
 was no passenger but myself; and the crew consisted of only 
 four or five, including boys. One night we had a storm, and I 
 was shut up alone in the cabin. I never before felt such en- 
 tire wretchedness. 
 
 On the other hand, the pleasure was intense when the mas- 
 ter came to me in my cabin, and said I should have something 
 good for breakfast if I would get up. I had just begun to 
 have an appetite. On my rising he poured part of a bowl of 
 cream into my cup. I was quite astonished, and, hastening on 
 deck, found myself surrounded by picturesque and romantic 
 masses of rock on every side. We were on the coast of Swe- 
 den, not far from Dalaro, the port of Stockholm. On these 
 barren and naked rocks I saw some huts, and a momentary 
 feeling of envy towards the happy residents on those quiet 
 solid spots of earth caused me to laugh at myself 
 
 Dalaro is a miserable little village in a wild position at the 
 mouth of the winding river on which Stockholm is built. Here 
 passengers are accustomed to alight, as the windings of the 
 
164 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 river render the voyage long. My intention, however, was to 
 remain in the vessel ; but I was led to change my plan. My 
 portmanteau was brought to me quite wet. It had fallen into 
 the w^ater ; and this accident afforded me another opportunity 
 of witnessing the kindness of strangers. The collector of the 
 customs could speak Swedish only, but, through a person pres- 
 ent who knew English, he invited me to spend the evening at 
 his house. Calling his servants, and asking me for my key, he 
 opened my box, and all my clothes and linen were at once seized 
 and carried off by the women. My books and papers were care- 
 fully collected, and laid on a stove to dry. In a few minutes I 
 was told that my host was going to fetch his wife, who was on a 
 visit to a friend, and I w^as invited to accompany him. We 
 entered a stately boat, and were rowed by six men, through — 
 -what shall I say ? — streets and valleys of stone, a labyrinth 
 of rocks and water. We alighted at steps which led to a neat 
 house, surrounded by fir-trees, the only trees of the place. 
 There Madame had been, but she was gone. The master of 
 the house, a sea-captain, named Blum, spoke a little bad Eng- 
 lish, and regaled me with dried beef, biscuit, and brandy. It 
 was a scene, and my companions were fit for the characters of a 
 romance. On our return by another water-way we found the 
 lady and her sister had arrived. They w^ere pretty women, 
 and spoke a little French. My supper was nice, and consisted 
 chiefly of novelties ; dried goose (cured as w^e cure hams, and 
 as red), salt fish, oaten cakes, and hot custard. 
 
 After supper, seeing that I was fatigued, the lady of the 
 house took a candle, and said she would accompany me to my 
 room. Those who were present rose ; I w^as shown into a neat 
 room with a bed in an alcove, and they sat with me five 
 minutes, as if they were paying me a visit in my own apart- 
 ment. When I got up next morning, after a long and sound 
 night's sleep, I found in an antechamber all my clothes dry 
 and clean, the linen washed and ironed. 
 
 The next day, the 15th of September, I proceeded to Stock- 
 holm. The drive in a little wagon or open chaise, not broad- 
 er at the wheels than a sedan chair, was very amusing. I 
 passed a succession of rocky and wooded scenes, with many 
 pieces of water, — I could not tell whether sea or lake. In 
 addition to the fir, I noticed the birch, and a few oaks ; but 
 the latter seemed to languish. Few houses w^ere to be seen, — 
 all of wood bedaubed with red ochre, which at a distance gives 
 the appearance of a brick building. The road was most excel- 
 
 \ 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 165 
 
 lent, and the horses, though small, were capital goers. We 
 kept on in one trot without intermission, and made the jour- 
 ney in less than five hours. 
 
 '^ The entrance into Stockholm, through the southern sub- 
 urb " (I wrote at the time), " disappoints the expectation raised 
 by the brilliant view in the distance ; for the greater number 
 of the houses are low and poor, some even roofed with earth, 
 and the larger houses have an uncomfortable air of nakedness 
 and coldness from the absence of architectural decorations, — 
 the windows without sills, the fronts without cornice, pediment, 
 &c. But its position is singularly striking. In England — 
 but then it would be no longer Stockholm — it would be one 
 of the most remarkable cities in the world. In other words, 
 were English capital and English enterprise applied to it, it 
 would be unrivalled. It stands on seven islands, but is cut 
 into three great divisions by large basins of v/ater, two salt and 
 one fresh, which are not crowded with vessels, but are beautiful 
 streets of still water, exhibiting shores at various distances and 
 of diversified character. The island on which stand the royal 
 palace and the state buildings presents a remarkable mass of 
 picturesque and romantic objects." 
 
 More than thirty years ago I wrote this description in a let- 
 ter. I have since seen Edinburgh, Eome, Venice, Naples, and 
 Palermo ; and I now think, if I am not deceived by imperfect 
 recollection, that Stockholm would, for beauty of situation, 
 bear comparison with any of these. 
 
 Having fixed myself in the best hotel in the city, I delivered 
 a letter which had been given to me at Dalaro. It was ad- 
 dressed to a young man, named Tode, a merchant's clerk, who 
 I was assured knew English, was intelligent and obliging, and 
 would be proud to be my cicerone. I found him all this, and 
 even more. He was my companion to chiu'ches, palaces, and 
 public buildings, and was most kind and assiduous in his at- 
 tentions. 
 
 I also went in search of a lady not unknown in the literary 
 world, and who as a poetess is still recollected with respect un- 
 der the name of Amelia von Imhoff. She had been Maid of 
 Honor to one of the Duchesses of Saxe-Weimar, which office 
 she held when I visited Weimar in 1803-4. Her reputation 
 she owed chiefly to an Idyllic tale, " Die Schwester von Les- 
 bos." She had married a Swedish general. Yon Helwig. I 
 was received by her with great cordiality. During my stay at 
 Stockholm, Herr von Helwig was from home. I was almost 
 
166 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 the first Weimar acquaintance she had seen since her marriage, 
 and I had interesting facts to relate concerning her native 
 country. She was engaged to dine that day with a Polish 
 countess, wife of Herr von Engerstrom, an historic character ; 
 and she instantly wrote a note intimating that she should 
 bring with her an English gentleman, a personal friend, just 
 arrived. There came an answer, in which the Coimtess ex- 
 pressed her regret that her dinner was not such as she could 
 with propriety set before a foreign gentleman. She would re- 
 ceive me some other day. Frau von Helwig laughed at this, 
 and with reason. I went, and certainly never was present at 
 a more copious banquet, or one at which the company seemed 
 more distinguished, judging by title and appearance. I can- 
 not specify foreign dishes after thirty-six years, but I did make 
 a memorandum that I used eleven plates at the meal. One 
 national custom T recollect. The company being assembled 
 in the drawing-room before dinner, two large silver waiters 
 were brought in, one full of liqueur glasses of brandy, the other 
 of little pieces of bread and cheese. Whilst these were being 
 carried round to the gentlemen, the ladies went by themselves 
 into the dining-room ; and when we followed we found them 
 seated at table, every alternate chair being left vacant. This 
 was an interesting day, and I regret that I am not better able 
 to remember the conversation, which was indicative of the 
 state of opinion among the Swedish gentry and nobility at a 
 most critical period. 
 
 This was the 16th of September, and it should be borne in 
 mind that Copenhagen capitulated to the English on the 7th, 
 and that before very long (March, 1809) the King of Sweden 
 was driven from the throne. Partly by my own observation 
 at the dinner-party, and partly by the information given me 
 by Frau von Helwig, I became fully aware of the unpopularity 
 of the King. I was struck by the coldness with which every 
 remark I made in his praise was received ; but I was in some 
 measure prepared for this by what I had heard from the min- 
 ister at Altona. On my reading to him Wordsworth's sonnet, 
 his only comment was that the poet had happily and truly de- 
 scribed the King as "above all consequences"; and on my 
 eulogizing the King to Herr von Engerstrom for his heroic 
 refusal to negotiate with Buonaparte, the reply was, " Per- 
 sonne ne doute que le roi soit un homme d'homieur." 
 
 Among the company were two military men of great per- 
 sonal dignity, and having the most glorious titles imaginable. 
 
1807.] ALTONA, SWEDEN, ETC. 167 
 
 One was a knight of the " Northern Star " ; the other a knight 
 of the '' Great Bear/' the constellation. I had been intro- 
 duced as a German, and was talking with these Chevahers 
 when Frau von Helwig joined us, and said something that be- 
 trayed my being an Englishman. Immediately one of them 
 turned away. The cause was so obvious that my friend was 
 a little piqued, and remonstrated with him. He made an 
 awkward apology, and unsuccessfully denied her imputation. 
 This anti- English feeling was so general in Sweden at this 
 time that I was advised to travel as a German through the 
 country, and in fact did so. 
 
 On the 18th I dined with Frau von Helwig. She had in- 
 vited to meet me a man w^hom I was happy to see, and whose 
 name will survive among the memorable names of the last age. 
 I refer to the patriotic Arndt. He had fled from the pro- 
 scription of Buonaparte. His life was threatened, for he was 
 accused, whether with truth I do not know, of being the au- 
 thor of the book for the publication of which Salm had been 
 shot. My failing in with him now caused me to read his 
 works, and occasioned my translating entire his prophecy in 
 the year 1805 of the insurrection of the Spaniards, which 
 actually took place within less than a year of our rencontre in 
 Sweden. This I inserted in a review* of Wordsworth's 
 pamphlet on the convention of Cintra. I was delighted by 
 this lively little man, very spirited and luminous in his con- 
 versation, and with none of those mystifying abstractions of 
 which his writings are full. He spoke with great admiration 
 of our " Percy's Reliques." 
 
 On the 21st I set out on my journey to Gottenburg, having 
 bought a conveyance, with whip and other accompaniments, 
 which altogether cost me about £ 4. The peasants are obliged 
 to supply horses, and I paid 9 d, per horse for each stage of 
 about seven miles. My driver w^as sometimes a man or boy, 
 but sometimes also a w^oman or girl. I am not accustomed to 
 make economical statements, but it is worth mentioning that, 
 including the loss on the resale of my carriage, the whole ex- 
 pense of my journey, over 350 miles, during seven days, was 
 less than £ 6 ! I had been furnished with a card, not bigger 
 than my hand, and yet containing all the Swedish words I 
 should want. With this I managed to pass through the coun- 
 try, without meeting with any incivility or inconvenience ; 
 and, after what I have said as to expense, I need not add, 
 
 * In Cumberland's " London Review." 
 
168 llEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 without being imposed upon. How many Swedes will say the 
 same of a journey in England? The only occasion on which 
 I thought I had reason to complain, was when a peasant pro- 
 vided for my driver a child who could not hold the reins. 
 
 With the name of Sweden I had associated no other idea 
 than that of barren rocks ; but during the first four days of 
 my journey, in which I left behind me two hundred and fifty 
 miles, there was an uninterrupted succession of beautiful forest 
 scenery. The roads were admirable, needing no repair, for 
 the substance was granite. There was no turnpike from begin- 
 ning to end. The scenery was diversified by a number of lakes, 
 every now and then a small neat town, or a pretty village, and 
 a very few country-houses. The fir, or pine, and beech were 
 almost the only trees. 
 
 I reached Gottenburg on the 27th. The euAdrons of the 
 town consist of masses of rock with very scanty interstices of 
 meagre vegetation, — a scene of dreary barrenness ; yet com- 
 merce has enriched this spot, and the Gottenburg merchants, 
 as I witnessed, partake of the luxuries which wealth can trans- 
 port anywhere. 
 
 On the 30th I commenced my voyage homewards ; the age 
 of steam was not come, but after a comfortable passage of eight 
 days, I sighted the coast of my native country. We landed at 
 Harwich on the afternoon of the 7th of October. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Harwich, 7th October, 1807. 
 
 Thank God I once more touch English land. To-night I 
 mean to sleep at Witham. To-morrow I shall be in town. 
 And I suppose before long shall come to Bury. I shall in the 
 mean while expect your letter of congratulation. 
 
 Kind love to father, sister, httle Tom, and everybody. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 VERY soon after my return from Holstein, Mr. Walter pro- 
 posed that I should rem^ain in the service of the Times as 
 a sort of foreign editor ; that is, I was to translate from the 
 foreign papers, and write on foreign politics. This engagement 
 began at the close of the year ; and I entered on my duties in 
 high spirits. I could not easily find in my life a six months in 
 
1807.] FOREIGN EDITOR OF THE TIMES. 169 
 
 which I was more happy in every respect. I began to feel that 
 ^ had something to do, and could do it. In looking back on 
 my work, I see nothing to be proud of in it ; but it connected 
 me with public life, and that at least was agreeable. And 
 though I did not form a portion of the literary society of 
 London, I was brought into its presence. 
 
 It was my practice to go to Printing House Square at five, 
 and to remain there as long as there was anything to be done. 
 
 After a time I had the name of editor, and as such opened 
 all letters. It was my office to cut out odd articles and para- 
 graphs from other papers, decide on the admission of corre- 
 spondence, &c. ; but there was always a higher power behind. 
 While I w^as in my room, Mr. Walter was in his, and there the 
 great leader, the article that was talked about, was written. 
 Nor did I ever write an article on party politics during my 
 continuance in that post. I may, however, add, that in Feb- 
 ruary I inserted a letter wdth my initials, which was, I believe, 
 of real use to the government. It is to be found in the paper 
 printed on February 13th. It is a justification of the English 
 government for the seizure of the Danish ships. The Ministry 
 defended themselves very ill in the House of Commons. In my 
 letter, I stated the fact that the Holstein post-ofiice refused to 
 take in my letters to England, and alleged as a reason that 
 Buonaparte had obliged the government to stop the communi- 
 cation with England. The same evening, in the House of 
 Lords, this fact was relied upon by the Marquis of Wellesley 
 as conclusive. Indeed, it was more to the purpose than auy 
 fact alleged by the government speakers. 
 
 In the month of March I was invited to dine with Southey 
 at Dr. Aikin's. I was charmed with his person and manners, 
 and heartily concurred with him in his opinions on the war. I 
 copy from a letter to my brother : " Southey said that he and 
 Coleridge were directly opposed in politics. He himself thought 
 the last administration (Whig) so impotent that he could con- 
 ceive of none worse except the present ; while Coleridge main- 
 tained the present Ministry to be so corrupt that he thought it 
 impossible there could be a worse except the late." On poetry 
 we talked likewise : I bolted my critical philosophy, and was de- 
 fended by Southey throughout. I praised Wordsworth's " Son- 
 nets *' and preface. In this, too, Southey joined ; he said that 
 the sonnets contain the profoundest political wdsdom, and the 
 preface he declared to be '' the quintessence of the philosophy 
 of poetry." 
 
 VOL. I. 8 
 
170 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. tCHAP. 12. 
 
 A few days after this (viz. on March 15th) I was introduced 
 to Wordsworth. I breakfasted with him at Lamb's and ac- 
 companied him to Mr. Hcrdcastle's, at Haleham, Deptford, 
 with whom Mrs. Clarkson was on a visit. Wordsworth re- 
 ceived me very cordially, owing, I have no doubt, to a favor- 
 able introduction by Mrs. Clarkson, aided, of course, by my 
 perfect agreement with him in politics ; and my enthusiastic 
 and unconcealed admiration of his poetry gave me speedy ad- 
 mission to his confidence. At this first meeting he criticised 
 unfavorably Mrs. Barbauld's poetry, which I am the less un- 
 willing to mention as I have already recorded a later estimate 
 of a different kind. He remarked that there is no genuine 
 feeling in the line, 
 
 Li what brown hamlet dost thou joy ? * 
 
 He said, " Why brown ? " He also objected to Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld's line, 
 
 " The lowliest children of the gi'ound, moss-rose and violet," &c. 
 
 " Now," said he, " moss-rose is a shrub." The last remark 
 is just, but I dissent from the first ; for evening harmonizes 
 with content, and the brown hamlet is the evening hamlet. 
 Collins has with exquisite beauty described the coming on of 
 evening : — 
 
 " And hamlets brown, and dim discovered spires." 
 
 Wordsworth, in my first tete-a-tete with him, spoke freely 
 and praisingly of his own poems, which I never felt to be un- 
 becoming, but the contrary. He said he thought of writing an 
 essay on '' Why bad Poetry pleases." He never wrote it, — a 
 loss to our literature. He spoke at length on the connection 
 of poetry with moral principles as well as with a knowledge 
 of the principles of human nature. He said he could not re- 
 spect the mother who could read without emotion his poem, 
 
 " Once in a lonely hamlet I sojourned." 
 
 He said he wrote his " Beggars " to exhibit the power of 
 physical beauty and health and vigor in childhood, even in a 
 state of moral depravity. He desired popularity for his 
 
 *' Two voices are there, one is of the sea," 
 
 as a test of elevation and moral purity. 
 
 I have a distinct recollection of reading in the Monthly Re- 
 view a notice of the first volume of Coleridge's poems before I 
 
 * Ode to Content. 
 
1808.] COLERIDGE. 171 
 
 went abroad in 1800, and of the delight the extracts gave 
 me ; and my friend Mrs. Clarkson having become intimate 
 with him, he was an object of interest with me on my return 
 from Germany in 1805. And when he dehvered lectures in 
 the year 1808, she wished me to interest myself in them. I 
 needed, however, no persuasion. It was out of my power to 
 be a regular attendant, but I wrote to her two letters, which 
 have been printed, for want of fuller materials, in the '^ Notes 
 and Lectures on Shakespeare," edited by Mrs. Henry Cole- 
 ridge.* At the time of my attending these lectures I had no 
 personal acquaintance with Coleridge. I have a letter from 
 him, written in May, 1808, sending me an order for admission. 
 He says : '^ Nothing but endless interruptions, and the neces- 
 sity of dining out far oftener than is either good for me, or 
 pleasant to me, joined with reluctance to move (partly from 
 exhaustion by company I cannot keep out, for one cannot, 
 dare not always be ^ not at home,' or ' very particularly en- 
 gaged,' — and the last very often will not serve my turn) 
 these, added to my bread-and-cheese employments, -f- my 
 lectm-es, which are — bread and cheese, i. e. a very losing bar- 
 gain in a pecuniary view, have prevented me day after day 
 from returning your kind call. I will as soon as I can. In 
 the mean time I have left voiir name with the old woman and 
 the attendants in the office, as one to whom I am always ' at 
 home ' when I am at home. For Wordsworth has taught me 
 to desire your acquaintance, and to esteem you ; and need I 
 add that any one so much regarded by my friend Mrs. Clark- 
 son can never be indifferent, &c., &c., to S. T. Coleridge." t 
 
 * Pickering. 1849. 
 
 t I find among my papers two pages of notes of Coleridge's lecture, Febru- 
 ary5, 1808: — 
 
 Feb. 5th, 1808. Lecture 2d on Poetry (Shakespeare), «&c. 
 Detached Minutes. 
 
 The Grecian Mythology exhibits the symbols of the powers of nature and 
 Hero-worship blended together. Jupiter both a King of Crete and the per- 
 sonified Sky. 
 
 Bacchus expressed the organic energies of the Universe which work by 
 passion, — a joy without consciousness; while Minerva, &c., imported the 
 pre-ordaining intellect. Bacchus expressed the physical origin of heroic 
 character, a felicity beyond prudence. 
 
 In the devotional hymns to Bacchus the germ of the first Tragedy. Men 
 like to imagine themselves to be the characters they treat of, — hence dramatic 
 representations. The exhibition of action separated from the devotional feel- 
 ing. The Dialogue became distinct from tlie Chorus. 
 
 The Greek tragedies were the Biblical instruction for the people. 
 
 Comedy arose from the natural sense of ridicule which expresses itself 
 naturally in mimicry. 
 
 Mr. Coleridge, in Italy, heard a quack in the street, who was accosted by 
 
172 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap."i2. 
 
 In a visit to Bury, my friend Hare Naylor being a guest at 
 the house of Sir Charles Bunbury, my brother and I were in- 
 vited to dinner by this beau-ideal of an English sportsman, 
 who was also well known as a Whig politician and a man of 
 honor. A few months afterwards I met him in London, when 
 I was walking with Lamb. Sir Charles shook hands with me, 
 and asked where my regiment was. I evaded the question. 
 Lamb was all astonishment — "I had no idea that you knew 
 Sheridan." — " Nor do I. That is Sir Charles Bunbury." — 
 *' That 's impossible. I have known him to be Sheridan all 
 my life. That shall be Sheridan. You thief! you have 
 
 stolen mv Sheridan ! " 
 
 t/ 
 
 That I did not quite neglect my German studies is shown 
 by my having translated for the Monthly Repository Lessing's 
 '' Education of the Race."* 
 
 Though I had not the remotest intention now of studying 
 the law, yet during this spring I luckily entered myself a 
 member of the Middle Temple ; and I at the same time exer- 
 
 his servant-boy smartly; a dialop:ue ensued which pleased the mob; the next 
 day the quack, having perceived the good effect of an adjunct, hired a boy to 
 talk with him. In this way a play might have originated. 
 
 The modern Drama, like the ancient, originated in religion. The priests 
 exhibited the miracles and splendid scenes of religion. 
 
 Tragi-Comedy arose from the necessity of amusing and instructing at the 
 same time. 
 
 The entire ignorance of the ancient Drama occasioned the reproduction of 
 it on the restoration of literature. 
 
 Harlequin and the Clown are the legitimate descendants from the Vice and 
 Devil of the ancient Comedy. In the early ages, very ludicrous images were 
 mixed with the most serious ideas, not without a separate attention being paid 
 to the solemn traths; the people had no sense of impiety; they enjoyed the 
 comic scenes, and were yet edified by the instruction of the serious parts. Mr. 
 Coleridge met with an ancient MSl at Helmstadt, in which God was repre- 
 sented visiting Noah's family. The descendants of Cain did not pull off 
 their hats to the great visitor, and received boxes of the ear for their rude- 
 ness; while the progeny of Abel answered their catechism well. The Devil 
 prompted the bad children to repeat the Lord's Prayer backwards. 
 
 The Christian polytheism withdrew the mind from attending to the whisper- 
 ings of conscience; yet Christianity in its worst state was not separated from 
 humanity (except where zeal for Dogmata interfered). Mahometanism is an 
 anomaloiis corruption of Christianity. 
 
 In the pro:luction of the English Drama, the popular and the learned writers 
 by their opposite tendencies contributed to rectify each other. The learned 
 would have reduced Tragedy to oratorical declamation, while the vulgar 
 wanted a direct appeal to their feelings. The many feel what is beautiful, 
 but they also deem a great deal to be beautiful which is not in fact so: they 
 cannot distinguish the counterfeit from the genuine. The vulgar love the 
 Bible and also Hervey's " Meditations." 
 
 Tlie essence of poetry iiniversiiltty. The character of Hamlet, &c. affects 
 all men; addresses to personal feeling; the sympathy arising from a reference 
 to individml son'^ibilitv spurious. [N B. This applies to Kotzebue.] 
 
 * Monthly Repository, Vol. I., 1806, pp. 412, 467. 
 
1808.J CORUNNA. 173 
 
 cised myself in business speaking by attending at the Surrey 
 Institution. 
 
 During some weeks my mind was kept in a state of agita- 
 tion in my editorial capacity. The Spanish revolution had 
 broken out, and as soon as it was likely to acquire so much 
 consistency as to become a national concern, the Times, of 
 course, must have its correspondent in Spain ; and it was said, 
 who so fit to write from the shores of the Bay of Biscay, as he 
 who had successfully written from the banks of the Elbe ? I 
 did not feel at liberty to reject the proposal of Mr. Walter that 
 I should go, but I accepted the offer reluctantly. I had not 
 the qualifications to be desired, but then I had experience. 
 I had some advantage also in the friendship of Amyot, who 
 gave me letters which were eventually of service ; and I waa 
 zealous in the cause of Spanish independence. 
 
 I left London by the Falmouth mail on the night of July 
 19th, reached Falmouth on the 21st, and on the 23d embarked 
 in a lugger belonging to government, — the Black Joke, Cap- 
 tain Alt. The voyage was very rough, and as I afterwards 
 learnt, even dangerous. We were for some time on a lee 
 shore, and obliged to sail with more than half the vessel imdei 
 water ; a slight change in the wind would have overset us : 
 but of all this I was happily ignorant. 
 
 I landed at Corunna on the evening of Sunday, July 31st, 
 and was at once busily employed. I found the town in a state 
 of great disorder ; but the excitement was a joyous one, the 
 news having just arrived of the surrender of a French army in 
 the south under Marshal Dupont. This little town, lying in 
 an out-of-the-way comer of Spain, was at this period of impor^ 
 tance, because, being the nearest to England, it became the point 
 of communication between the Spanish and English govern- 
 ments. The state of enthusiastic feeling in Galicia, as well aa 
 in every other province of Spain where the French were not, 
 rendered the English objects of universal interest. I took 
 with me several letters of introduction, both to merchants and 
 to men in office, but they were hardly necessary. As soon aa 
 I could make myself intelligible in bad Spanish, and even be- 
 fore, with those who understood a little French, I was accept- 
 able everywhere, and I at once felt that I should be in no 
 want of society. I put myself ia immediate connection with 
 the editor of the miserable little daily newspaper, and from 
 him I obtained Madrid papers and pamphlets. There were 
 ^Iso a number of Englishmen in the place, — some engaged in 
 
174 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 commerce, others attracted by curiosity. And there was al- 
 ready ill the harbor the Defiance, a 74-gun ship, Captain 
 Hotham, with whom and his officers I soon formed an in- 
 teresting acquaintance. Of the town itself I shall merely say 
 this : it lies at the extremity of one horn of a bay, and is very 
 picturesque in its position. The rocks which run along the 
 tongue of land are exceedingly beautiful; on that tongue, 
 between the city and the sea, are numerous low windmills, 
 which, as I first saw them in the dusk of evening, made 
 me think that Don Quixote needed not to have been so very 
 mad to mistake them for giants. As I looked on the narrow 
 streets of the town, and the low and small houses with shoots 
 throwing the rain-water into the middle of the street, the 
 thought more than once occurred to me, that probably in the 
 times of good Queen Bess the streets of London presented a 
 somewhat similar appearance. The windows are also doors, 
 and every house has its balcony, on w^hich, when it is in the 
 shade, the occupants spend much time. The intrigues of 
 which the Spanish plays and romances are full are facilitated 
 by the architecture, — it being equally easy to get access by 
 the windows and escape from the roof. The beggars are 
 charmingly picturesque, and have in their rags a virtuosity 
 worthy a nation whose most characteristic literature consists 
 of beggar-romances. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 In the evening about seven all is life and activity. The 
 streets are crowded, especially those towards the bay, and it is 
 at this time that if everybody had a wishing-cap all the world 
 would fly to Spain for two or three hours. The beauty of the 
 evenings is indescribable. There is a voluptuous feeling in 
 the atmosphere, w^hich diffuses joy, so that a man need not 
 think to be happy. There is a physical fehcity, which renders 
 it superfluous to seek any other. And when we add the lan- 
 guor produced by the heat in the middle of the day (w^hich, 
 however, I have not felt so much as I expected), we can ac- 
 count for the indolence of the Spanish character. 
 
 My business was to collect news and forward it by every 
 vessel that left the port,* and I spent the time between the 
 
 * My letters to the Times lire dated " Shores of the Bay of Biscay" and 
 *'Corunna." The first appeared on August 9, 1808; the last on January 26, 
 1809. ^ .„ 
 
 An extract from Mr. Robinson's first communication, dated August 2, will 
 
1808.] CORUNNA. 175 
 
 reception and transmission of intelligence in translating the 
 public documents and in writing comments. I was anxious 
 to conceal the nature of my occupation, but I found it neces- 
 sary from time to time to take some friends into mj confi- 
 dence. 
 
 Among the earliest and latest of my Corunna acquaintance 
 were the officers of the Defiance, I became especially inti- 
 mate wath Lieutenants Stiles and Banks, and Midshipman 
 Drake. They seemed to have more than a brother's love fcr 
 each other. This perhaps is the natural consequence w^herc, 
 as in this instance, each felt tliat in the hour of danger he 
 might owe his life to his companions. I at length imagined I 
 could be happy on shipboard. These young men and I ren- 
 dered each other mutual service. My lodgings w^ere frequent- 
 ly their home, and they assisted me in the transmission of 
 letters. I introduced them to partners at balls, and gained 
 credit with the ladies for so doing. 
 
 There were several houses at which I used to visit ; occa- 
 sionally I was invited to a formal Tertulia. At these Tertu- 
 lias the ladies sit w^ith their backs against the w^all on an ele- 
 vated floor, such as we see in old halls. The gentlemen sit 
 before them, each cavalier on a very small straw -bottomed 
 chair before his dama^ and often w^ith his guitar, on which he 
 klimpers, and by aid of which, if report say truly, hs can 
 make love without being detected. The comjjany being seat- 
 ed, a large silver plate is given to each guest, and first a cup 
 of rich and most delicious chocolate is taken, — then, to cor- 
 rect it, a pint tumbler of cold water. Preserved fruits and 
 
 show the high spirits and the favorable prospects which animated the Spanish 
 people at the time of his arrival. ''When we consider, as is officially stated, 
 that not a Frenchman exists in all Andalusia, save in b<mds ; that in Portugal, 
 Junot remains in a state of siege; that all the South of Spain is free; and that 
 in the North the late victories of the patriots in Arragon have broken the com- 
 munication between the French forces in Biscay and Catalonia, we need not 
 fear the speedy emancipation of the capital, and the compression of the French 
 force within the provinces adjoining Bayonne. When this arrives it will be 
 seen whether the long-sufferin^r of the powers of the North, as well as of the 
 whole French people, may not find an end, and whether thus at length a period 
 may not be put to that tyranny which seemed so firmly established'* 
 
 The next communication (August 4) announced the surrender of Dupon<-'s 
 army; and the third (on August S) the flight of Joseph Napoleon from Madrid. 
 
 On September 26, Mr. Robinson writes: "The glorious and astonishing, 
 exertions of the Spanish Patriots, of which it is more correct to say tiiat tlie 
 Spaniards became soldiers in performing them, than that they performed them 
 because they were soldiers, ended in the capture or destruction of the greater 
 part of the immerous forces which had penetrated the interior of the country, 
 while the few that could effect their escaoe were driven to the Northern 
 provinces." 
 
176 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 other sweetmeats follow in abundance, and these in their turn 
 are corrected by a second pint of water. Nothing can exceed 
 the dulness of these parties, but I found them useful as les- 
 sons in Spanish. It was not till October that I had admission 
 to the tables of the Spanish gentry. I dined usually at the 
 Fontana d'Oro, the chief hotel, where the dinners were the 
 worst I was ever condemned to sit down to, — the meat bad, 
 and rendered intolerable by garlic. The only excellent meat 
 was the Spanish ham, cured with sugar ; and the only dish for 
 an epicure was the olla podrida, a medley to be compared with, 
 though diftering from, a Yorkshire pie. 
 
 Among my earliest English acquaintance was a Captain 
 Kennedy, \rho filled the office of Minister to the Galician 
 Junta. We became well acquainted, and were of use to each 
 other. He sang charmingly, and was a very handsome man ; 
 his mother was the famous Mrs. Kennedy, the actress. 
 
 On the 13th of October the first of a series of events took 
 place, w^hich mark one of the most memorable periods of my 
 life. On that day there arrived a detachment of English 
 troops under the command of Sir David Baird. Luckily for 
 myself, I had a few days before become acquainted with Gen- 
 eral Brodrick, and he had introduced me to Admiral de Courcy, 
 who was stationed in the Tonnant, a ship of the line. Captain 
 Hancock and I had received an invitation to dine with the 
 Admiral this day. In the morning, when I was over my books, 
 I was startled by the report of cannon, and, running to the 
 ramparts, beheld more than 150 vessels, transports, sailing in 
 a double row before a gentle breeze. It was a striking spec- 
 tacle, and I felt proud of it. But I remarked that the sight 
 was rather mortifying than gratifying to the pride of some of 
 the Spanish gentry, who were looking on, and who might feel 
 humiliated that their country needed such aid.* We had 
 dined, when, on a sudden, the Admiral rose and crie'd out, 
 ** Gentlemen ! open your quarters " ; on our doing which an 
 officer placed himself between each two of us. Among the 
 arrivals were Sir David Baird, General Crawford, &c. We had 
 half an home's formal chat and drank success to the expedition. 
 
 * Mr. Robinson says in his letter of the 22d of October: " In one respect I 
 was almost pleased to remark the indifference of our reception, — they do not 
 wnnt ns, thous:ht I, iant mieux ! and God grant they may not find themselves 
 mistaken ! There is great confidence on the part of the people; they have no 
 idea, apparently, that it is possible for them to be beaten; their rage is un- 
 bounded when the name of Buonaparte is mentioned; but their hatred of the 
 French is mixed with contempt." 
 
1808.] ARRIVALS FROM ENGLAND. 177 
 
 After remaining a few days in Corunna the troops proceeded 
 to the interior, to join the army under Sir John Moore. The 
 expedition, I have understood, was ill planned ; the result be- 
 longs to the history of the war. 
 
 On the 20th there was an arrival which, more than that of 
 the English, ought to have gratified the Spaniards. I wit- 
 nessed a procession from the coast to the Town Hall, of which 
 the two leading figures were the Spanish General Roman a and 
 the English Minister, Mr. Frere. Few^ incidents in the great 
 war against Napoleon can be refeiTed to as rivalling in roman- 
 tic interest the escape of the Spanish soldiers under General 
 Romana from the North of Germany ; but, on beholding the 
 hero, my enthusiasm subsided. Romana looked, in my eyes, 
 like a Spanish barber. I was therefore less surprised and 
 vexed than others were when, in the course < f events, he 
 showed himself to be an ordinary character, having no just 
 sense of what the times and the situation required from the 
 Spanish nation. On the other hand, I received a favorable 
 impression from the person and address of Mr. Frere. And 
 when, in a few^ months, the [. ublic voice in England was raised 
 against him as the injudicious counsellor who imperilled the 
 English army by advising their advance on Madrid, my own 
 feeling was that be was unjustly treated. 
 
 On November 3d there was an arrival from England, which 
 was to me a source of some amusement. Early in the morning a 
 servant from my friend Madame Mosquera * came in great 
 haste to request that I w^ould go to her immediately. I found 
 her full of bustle and anxiety. " There is just arrived," said 
 she, '-' an English grandeza, — a lord and lady of high rank. 
 They will dine on board their ship, and come here in the even- 
 ing. All the arrangements are made : I am to attend them in 
 a carriage on shore, and the Duke of Yeraguas is to accom- 
 pany me ; and there must be a second gentleman, and we hope 
 you will go with us. They are to take a refresco here, and to- 
 morrow they are to dine with the Countess Bianci. You are 
 to be invited to be at the dinner ; and what I want of you 
 now is that you instruct me how I am to receive my lord and 
 lady. ' My first inquiry was who these great persons were. 
 No other than my Lord and Lady Holland. My determina- 
 tion was at once taken. I told Madame that it was impossible 
 for me to attend her on shore ; I was not of noble birth, nor 
 a fit companion for the descendant and representative of Co- 
 
 * Mr. Robinson sometimes spells this name Moschera. 
 8* 
 
 » 
 
178 RExMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 lumbus. Colonel Kennedy, by birth no better than myself, 
 was, in virtue of his diplomatic position, the first Englishman 
 at Corunna, and must therefore be invited. (Poor Kennedy 
 received his invitation, and when he heard that he owed to me 
 the honor, he declared he would never forgive me, for he and 
 the Duke and the Baroness were made to sit in the carriage 
 between three and four hours waiting for the mistress of Hol- 
 land House.) As to the reception, I said, you have only to do 
 for them what you would do for the Spanish grandees of the 
 first rank, — and besides the usual chocolate and sweetmeats, 
 send up tea and bread-and-butter. That there might be no 
 mistake I requested a loaf to be brought, and I actually cut a 
 couple of slices as thin as wafers, directing that a plate should 
 be filled with such. The tea equipage I was assured was ex- 
 cellent, — procured in London. I said there would be no im- 
 propriety in my meeting my lord and lady at the house, and 
 therefore promised to attend. After a wearisome waiting on 
 our part, the noble visitors and their escort arrived. Lady 
 Holland, with her stately figure and grand demeanor ; my 
 lord, with his countenance of bonhomie and intelligence ; a 
 lad, said to be the second son of the Duke of Bedford, a Lord 
 Something Russell, — perhaps the present Prime Minister * of 
 England ; and a gentleman whom I have heard called satiri- 
 cally Lady Holland's atheist, a Mr. Allen, but better known as 
 an elegant scholar and Edinburgh reviewer, who in that char- 
 acter fell into a scrape by abusing some Greek that was by 
 Pindar. The party was a small one. In a few minutes after 
 the arrival of the guests the refresco was brought in. All the 
 servants were in gala dresses, and a table being set out in the 
 large reception-room, a portly man brought in a huge silver 
 salver, resembling in size the charger on which in Italian pic- 
 tures the head of John the Baptist is usually brought by Her- 
 od's step-daughter. This huge silver dish was piled up with 
 great pieces of bread-and-butter an inch thick, sufficient to 
 feed Westminster School. This was set down with great so- 
 lemnity. Next came a large tea-tray of green and red tin, such 
 as might have been picked up at Wapping. This was covered 
 with all sorts of indescribable earthenware. The teapot, which 
 was of tin, had probably not been in use for years, and there- 
 fore the moment Madame Mosquera took hold of it to pour 
 out the tea, the lid fell in and filled the room with steam. She 
 managed to pour out a cup, which she ran with to my lady, 
 
 * This was written in 1848. 
 
1808.] MADAME LAVAGGI. 179 
 
 who good-naturedly accepted it. This done, she ran with 
 another cup to Lord Holland. She was full of zeal, and her 
 little round figure perspired with joy and gladness. Mosquera 
 saw the ridicule of the exhibition and tried to keep her back, 
 twitching her gown and whispering audibly, " Molly, you are 
 mad I" She, however, ran to me ^ full of glee, " Have not I 
 done well ] " The gentlemen were glad to inquire of us, the 
 residents, the news of the day. Lord Holland was known to 
 be among the warmest friends of the Spanish cause ; in that 
 respect differing from the policy of his Whig friends, w^ho by 
 nothing so much estranged me from their party as by their 
 endeavor to force the English government to abandon the 
 Spanish patriots. 
 
 Before the events occurred which precipitated the departure 
 of us all, I had made the acquaintance of one highly interest- 
 ing and remarkable woman. This was Madame Lavaggi. Her 
 husband was the Treasurer of the kingdom, that is of Galicia. 
 He owed his place, and indeed everything, to her, — he was 
 younger than she, and a well-looking man. She was one of the 
 plainest women I ever saw, — I should say the very plainest. 
 The fortune was h rs, and she took the lead in all things. She 
 had character and energy, and I felt more interest in her con- 
 versation than in that of any other person. But she was alto- 
 gether uneducated. She spoke French very ill, and could hardly 
 write, — for instance, in a short note she spelt quand, cant, — 
 but her zeal against the French rendered her eloquent, almost 
 poetical. She was very religious, and loyal without being in- 
 sensible to the abuses of the government. Her father had been 
 Prime Minister under Charles VL, and she was fond of relating 
 that at one time six portfolios or seals of office were held by him. 
 At her house I was a frequent and favored guest, and I w^as able 
 to return these civilities by substantial services. 
 
 The time was approaching when these services would be 
 wanted. Before this occurred, however, I determined on 
 taking a holiday, and having made the acquaintance of Mur- 
 phy, the architect who ^Tote a book on ^' The Gothic Architec- 
 ture of Portugal,'' proposed that we should go together to Mad- 
 rid ; he agTeed to this, and went to buy a carriage for our jour- 
 ney, but returned with the information, w^hich was a great se- 
 cret, that it was not advisable to advance, for the English army 
 was on its retreat ! - This w^as on November 2 2d.* 
 
 * In his letter of November 12th, Mr. Robin<?on say?;: " Mv In^t let-*-er, which 
 was of the 9th, imparted to you the anxious feelings with which I was impressed 
 
180 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 As the intelligence became daily worse in December, others 
 were led to consider how their personal safety might be secured, 
 and left the place. This was the means of increasing my inti- 
 macy with the Lavaggis and the English officers in authority ; 
 I became known also to some of the Spaniards in office, including 
 members of the Junta, — that is, the Galician government, 
 which collectively had the quality of Majesty in formal ad- 
 dresses. 
 
 I was repeatedly in the company of Arguelles, the famous 
 statesman and orator, whose person and manners inspired me 
 with greater respect that those of any other Spaniard. 
 
 In the midst of these troubles I was learning the language 
 rapidly, and was able to read Spanish books ; and before the 
 close of the year I found myself able to take interest in general 
 society. But, excepting Madame Lavaggi, there was not a wo- 
 man who appeared to have any intelligence or strength of mind, 
 though all were warm patriots. There were several agreeable 
 women, but only one to be conversed with except on balls and 
 operas. When I received from England the famous pamphlet 
 of Cevallos, w^hich first exposed to Europe the infamous treat- 
 ment of the Spanish princes by Buonaparte, I carried it to a 
 Spanish lady who spoke French ; she looked at the title gravely, 
 and returned it saying, " I never look into any book that is not 
 given me by my confessor." The ordinary conversation of the 
 ladies was frivolous and undignified, but innocent, and their in- 
 
 when I wrote it. You learned from it that the campaign was opened by an 
 attack on several parts of the Spanish line by the French; and you were m- 
 formed that those attacks had been successful." ^ , r. ,, 
 
 ''November 25//?. — The intelhgence brought by the Lady Fellew packet 
 from Corunna is of an unfavorable complexion, yet such as we might perhaps 
 have expected from the first pppeararce of Buonaparte upon the theatre ot 
 war. General Blake's nrmv, after sustaining repeated attacks is said at last to 
 have been completely defeated, while the advanced body of the French have 
 even reached ValladoHd. _^ . . i j. 
 
 " The news from the English armv on its way from Portugal is no less dis- 
 tressing. It is said that 3,000 of the men under Sir John Moore are sick. 
 
 "Corunna, December Sih, — A serious responsibility is incurred by that 
 government, whichever it was, to which the lamentable delay is to be imputed, 
 which followed the arrival of those troops in the harbor of Corunna. The utter 
 want of all preparations for promoting the march of that army was seen with 
 deep affliction bv both British and Spaniards. No man pretends to fix the 
 culpability upon'anv one ; they can only judge of those who are privy to the 
 negotiations which preceded the expedition. ^The sad efiect. howcA'er, is very 
 obvious: for but for thi'^ delay the united British army would not have been 
 compelled to retreat before the foe, leaving him a vast reach of territory at his 
 command." . , 
 
 '' December lOfh. — A tale is current which, if not true, has been invented 
 by an Arragonese, that Buonaparte has sworn that on the 1st of January his 
 brother shall be at Madrid, Marshal Bessieres at Lisbon, and himself at Sara^ 
 gossa." 
 
1809.] MORALE OF ARMY COxMMISSIONERS. 181 
 
 delicacies were quite unconscious. Every Spanish woman is 
 christened Mary, and to this there is some addition by which 
 they are generally known. I was puzzled at hearing a very lively 
 laughing girl called " Dolores," but was told she was christened 
 Maria de los Dolores, — the Mother of Sorrows. One other was 
 always called ^' Conche " ; that I found to be an abridgment of 
 Conception, — Maria de la Conception being her proper name. 
 I had till the very last leisure to amuse myself occasionally 
 both with books and society, but as the year drew to a close the 
 general anxiety and trouble augmented ; and before it was at 
 an end I confidently anticipated the result, though I felt bound 
 in honor to remain at my post till the last ; and from the num- 
 ber of my acquaintance among the English officers and diplo- 
 matists, I felt no apprehension of being abandoned.* 
 
 1809. 
 
 My notes are too few to enable me to give a precise date to 
 some of the more interesting and notable occurrences of this 
 year. Several of these have a bearing on the morale of public 
 men, but I would not insert them here if I were not perfectly 
 sure of the substantial correctness of what I relate. 
 
 This I must state as the general impression and result, 
 that in the economical department of our campaign in Spain 
 there was great waste and mismanagement, amounting to dis- 
 honesty. One day came to me full of glee, and said : 
 
 " I have done a good day's work : I have put <£ 50 in my pocket. 
 
 C [who was one of the Commissariat] wanted to buy some 
 
 [I am not sure of the commodity]. He is bound not tQ make 
 the purchase himself, so he told me where I could get it and 
 what I was to give, and I have £50 for my commission." On 
 my expressing surprise, he said, "0, it is always done in all 
 pm^hases." 
 
 Another occurrence, not dishonorable in this way, but still 
 greatly to be regretted, must be imputed, I fear, to a very 
 honorable man. Only a very few days before the actual em- 
 barkation of the troops, there arrived from England a cargo of 
 clothing, — a gift from English philanthropists (probably a 
 large proportion of them Quakers) to the Spanish soldiers. 
 The Supercargo spoke to me on his arrival, and I told him he 
 must on no account unload, — that every hour brought fugi- 
 
 * On December 23d, Mr. Robinson savs: "A letter froni Salamanca an- 
 nounced that Joseph, the Usurper, is at Madrid, and issues his mandates as if 
 k Spain were already conquered, though uo one obeys him." 
 
 ' 
 
182 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 tives, — that the transports were collected for the troops, 
 whkh were in full retreat, — and that if these articles were 
 landed they would become, of course, the prey of the French. 
 He said he would consult General Brodrick. 1 saw the Super- 
 cargo next day, and he told me that the General had said that 
 the safest thing for him to do was to carry out his instructions 
 literally, — land the clothes, get a receipt, and then whatever 
 happened he was not to blame. And he acted accordingly.* 
 
 Some weeks before the actual embarkation Lavaggi applied 
 to me for assistance in placing in security the papers and 
 accounts belonging to Galicia, and held by him as Treasurer. 
 He could not let it be known that he was about to run away, 
 and therefore requested me to purchase the charter-party of 
 one of the merchant vessels lying-in the harbor. This I 
 effected. There w^as a vessel laden with a sort of beans called 
 caravanzes, the property of a well-known character, one Cap- 
 tain Ashe, w^ho held the charter-party. He became afterwards 
 notorious as author of " The Book " about the Queen of George 
 IV., which was the subject of so many rumors, and ultimately 
 suppressed. In the transaction with Captain Ashe I took care 
 to have all the legal documents. When the cargo was dis- 
 
 * In a letter to the Times, January 6 th, Mr. Robinson writes: ''Within a 
 single day everything has changed its appearance in this place ; and both Eng- 
 lish and Spanish seem to be seriously alarmed, not for the fate of the country 
 alone, or even the province, but of the town and themselves. 
 
 '' On whichever side we look, we see cause for distress ; the enemy advancing 
 in the front, Portugal abandoned to the right, the Asturias defenceless to the 
 left; and in the distance, uncertainty and obscurity." 
 
 " January 8tli. — The y^eril is drawing nigh, and the apprehensions and fears 
 of the unmilitary are therefore increased; but the danger is now unequivocally 
 perceived, and people begin to meet it manfully. As a public expression of 
 the sense of our situation, the theatre is this evening shut for the first time." 
 
 *' There is a strong sentiment in favor of the English troops, notwithstanding 
 their retreat. This has relieved our minds from a great embarrassment. A 
 Spanish populace, especially the female half of it, is no despicable power; and 
 it was apprehended by some, that in case the English were unsuccessful, the 
 people might rise in favor of the French. Hitherto, the contrary is apparent. 
 I have once or twice heard exclamations from the women which seem to tend 
 to a disturbance, exclaiming against the traitors, who had sent for the English 
 to be massacred, and then abandoned them." 
 
 '• During the day there has been a number of arrivals. Our streets swarm, 
 as a few weeks since, with English officers : but the gayety and splendor which 
 gi'aced their first entrance into Spain have given way to a mien and air cer- 
 tainly more congenial with the horrid business of war. I do not mean that 
 they manifest any unworthy or dishonorable sentiment; on the contrary, as far 
 as I can judge from the flying testimony of those I converse with, the army has 
 throughout endured with patience its privations and long suffering; and, since 
 its arduous and difficult retreat, displayed an honorable constancy and valor. 
 They speak with little satisfaction of all that they have seen in Spain, and 
 I fear are hardly just towards the people whom they came to protect and 
 rescue." 
 
1809.] ARRANGEMENTS FOR LEAVING CORUNNA. 183 
 
 charged at Plymouth, caravanzes were so high in price that all 
 the expense of the voyage to England, which was not contem- 
 plated, was defrayed. The ship was chartered to Cadiz, to 
 which place we were bound. I was the legal owner, and as such 
 passed to and fro. 
 
 On January 11th a number of troops arrived, and it was 
 announced that the French were near. Dm^ing this time the 
 Spaniards did not conceal their indignation at the retreat. It 
 was affirmed, with what truth I had not the means of judging, 
 that there were many passes capable of defence, and that the 
 enemy might have been easily stopped. Why this easy task 
 was not undertaken by General Eomana was never explained 
 to me. But I certainly heard from the retreating officers 
 themselves that the retreat was more properly a flight, and 
 that it was conducted very blunderingly and with precipita- 
 tion. I was assured that cannon were brought away, while 
 barrels of dollars were thrown down precipices ; and I wit- 
 nessed the ragged and deplorable condition of officers. One 
 day, going over to my ship, there was a common sailor, as he 
 seemed, most indecently ragged, who was going to a transport 
 vessel near mine. I began joking with ^' my lad," when he 
 tm^ned round, and I at once perceived in the elegance of his 
 figure and the dignity of his countenance that I was address- 
 ing one of the young aristocracy. He received my apologies 
 very good-humoredly ; told me that he had been subject to 
 every privation, and that he had on his flight been thankful 
 for a crust of bread and a pair of old shoes. On board a 
 transport he had a wardrobe awaiting him.* 
 
 As the time of departure approached, the interest of 
 Lavaggi in the ship became known, and on the 11th, one 
 
 * In the letter to the Times dated Januarys 11th, Mr. Robinson says: " In 
 the course of this day the whole P^nglish army has either entered within, or 
 planted itself before, the walls of this town. The French army will not fail to 
 be quick in the pursuit; and as the transports which were so anxiously expect- 
 ed from Vigo are still out of sight, and, according to the state of the wind, not 
 likely soon to make their appearance, this spot will most probably become the 
 scene of a furious and bloody contest. 
 
 " The late arrivals haye, of course, made us far better acquainted than we 
 possibly could be before with the circumstances of this laborious and dis- 
 honorable campaign, which has had all the suffering, without any of tlie hon- 
 ors of war. Without a single general engagement, — haying to fight an enemy 
 who always shunned the contest, — it is supposed that oui" army has lost up- 
 wards of 3,000 men, a larger number of whom perished by the usual causes, 
 as well as labors of a retreating soldiery." 
 
 ^' Jnjiuary 12ih. — An ahu'miiig symptom is the extreme scarcity of every 
 kind of provisions. The shops are shut, the markets are abandoned. Per- 
 haps the imperious wants of future importunate visitors are especially recol- 
 lected. If the transports aiTive, there will be abundance of every necessity; 
 .'f not, famine stares us in the face." 
 
184 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 of the Junta, Don Padre Gil, came to me in great distress, 
 imploring me to take him on board. He would die, he said, 
 rather than submit to the French. I let him come to me a 
 second time, having obtained permission to take him on board. 
 By way of trial, I asked him if he knew what it was to become 
 an exile. ^* yes ; I have a brother in America and friends 
 at Cadiz." — " But have you supplied yourself with the means 
 of living abroad and supporting yourself on the voyage ] " — 
 *' yes ; I have plenty of chocolate." The man at last ac- 
 tually went down upon his knees to me. This was irresistible, 
 — I took him, but did not scruple to try his feelings ; for I 
 made him in the evening put on a sailor's jacket, and take a 
 portmanteau on his head. I could command the sentinels to 
 open the gates of the town, which he could not. He w^ent on 
 board, but next day he was fetched away by another member 
 of the Junta, a priest named Garcia, a subtle if not an able 
 man. A few weeks afterwards I read in the French papers a 
 flaming address from the inhabitants of Corunna, gratefully 
 thanking the French General for having emancipated them 
 from their oppressors and tyrants the English, and the very 
 first name among the list of subscribers was that of Padre Gil. 
 It was on the 13th that I took on board Madame Lavaggi 
 and a handsome and amiable young officer, a native of Amer- 
 ica, named T , a relation of the D iike of Veraguas. There 
 
 were on board Lavaggi, Pyecroft, a gentleman named Pipiela, 
 with his wife, servants, of course, and, as I afterwards learned, 
 others of w^hom I had no knowledge. Madame Lavaggi I 
 heard was very ill during the night, and next day her hus- 
 band gave orders that we should return, in order that she 
 might be taken on shore. It was not until afterwards that I 
 discovered the real cause of our going back was that Madame 
 
 had found out that their young friend T had smuggled 
 
 on board some one who had no right to be there ; she there- 
 fore determined on quitting the vessel. I accompanied her to 
 her house, and as we approached the door a rich perfume of 
 cedar-wood was apparent, — it proceeded from the burning of a 
 costly cabinet which she much prized. The destruction of 
 this and other valuable articles of furniture had not been pre- 
 vented by the officers who were left in the house, and the poor 
 lady burst into tears as she told me that these gentlemen had 
 been most hospitably treated at her table.* 
 
 * Letter to the Times^ January 15tli. '* The last two days have materially 
 changed the appearance of things. Yesterday evening, the fleet of transports, 
 
1809.] THK BATTLE OF CORUNNA. 185 
 
 I slept in my old lodging, and the morning of the 16th I 
 spent in making calls and in writing the last letter to the 
 Times. The whole town was in commotion, — the English 
 hnrrying away, at least those of them who were not engaged 
 in protecting the embarkation of the others, — the Spaniards 
 looking on in a sort of gloomy anger, neither aiding nor op- 
 posing them. On going to dine at the hotel, I fonnd the table- 
 d'hote filled with English officers. After a time, on looking 
 round I saw that the room was nearly empty, — not a red-coat 
 to be seen. On inquiry of the w^aiters, one said : ^' Have you 
 not heard ^ The French are come : they are fighting." * Hav- 
 ing finished my dinner, I w^alked out of the town. Towns- 
 people, stragglers, were walking and loitering on the high road 
 and in the fields. We could hear firing at a distance. Several 
 carts came in with wounded soldiers. I noticed several French 
 prisoners, whose countenances expressed rather rage and men- 
 aces than fear. They knew very well what would take place. 
 I walked with some acquaintances a mile or more out of the 
 town, and remained there till dark, — long enough to know 
 that the enemy was driven back ; for the firing evidently came 
 from a greater distance. Having taken leave of Madame La- 
 vaggi, whom I sincerely esteemed, and of my few acquaintances 
 in the town, I went on board, and our vessel was judiciously 
 stationed by the Captain out of the harbor, but immediately 
 on the outside. There were numerous ships like ours sailing 
 about the bay. The Captain said to me overnight : '' You 
 may be sure the French will be here in the morning ; I will 
 take care to place the vessel so that we may have no difficulty 
 in making our escape." The morning was fine and the wind 
 favorable, or our position might have been perilous. Early in 
 the forenoon my attention was drawn to the sound of musket- 
 ry, and by a glance it could be ascertained that the soldiers 
 were shooting such of their fine horses as could not be taken 
 on board. This was done, of course, to prevent their strength- 
 
 wliicli had been dispersed in their passage from Vigo, began to enter the har- 
 bor, and the hearts of thousands were reUeved by the prospect of deliverance. 
 1 beheld this evening the beautiful bay covered with our vessels, both armed 
 and mercantile, and I should have thought the noble three-deckers, which 
 stood on the outside of the harbor, a proud spectacle, if I could have forgotten 
 the inglorious service they were called to perform." 
 
 * This was the celebrated battle of Corunna, at which Sir John ]Moore was 
 killed. In ^Ir. Robinson's memoranda, written at the time, he says that the 
 cannonading seemed to be on the hills about three miles from the'town. At 
 five o'clock he embarked, and though the vessel remained not far off till the 
 18tli, he does not appear to have heard of the death of the English commander, 
 or any particulars of the battle. 
 
186 REMINISCKNCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 eniiig the French cavalry. One very loud explosion brought 
 us all on deck. There was on the shore a large powder maga- 
 zine, which had been often the boundary of my walk. When 
 the cloud of smoke which had been raised was blown away, 
 there was empty space where there had been a solid building a 
 few moments before ; but this was a less exciting noise than 
 when, about one o'clock, we heard a cannonading from the 
 shore at the inland extremity of the bay. It was the French 
 army. They were firing on ships which were quietly wait- 
 ing for orders. I remarked the sudden movement in the bay, 
 — the ships before lying at anchor were instantly in motion. 
 I myself noticed three vessels which had lost their bowsprits. 
 The Captain told me that twelve had cut their cables. We were 
 not anxious to quit the spot, and therefore sailed about in the 
 vicinity all night. Two vessels were on fire, and next day I 
 was shocked at beholding the remains of a wTCck, and the glee 
 with which our sailors tried to fish them up as we passed. 
 Lavaggi was very desirous to go to Cadiz, but the Captain sol- 
 emnly declared that the ship was not sea-worthy for that 
 course, the wind being direct for England ; he would not risk 
 our lives by attempting it. Of course, as we could not dish 
 prove his assertion, we submitted, and proceeded straight to 
 Falmouth, which we reached on the 23d. 
 
 On my return to London I resumed my occupation at the 
 Times ofiice. But a change had taken place there ; Collier 
 had transferred his services to the Chronicle, In the mean 
 while I had less given me to do, but I did it with cheerful- 
 ness, and soon renewed my old habits and old acquaintance. 
 
 At this time, too, I was frequent in my calls on the Spanish 
 political agents. The names of Durango, Lobo, and Abeilla 
 appear in my pocket-book. I rendered a service to Southey 
 by making him acquainted with the last-named, who supplied 
 him with important documents for his history of the Spanish 
 war. 
 
 On the 13th of July I was invited to a small party at Mrs. 
 Buller's. There were not above half a dozen gentlemen. Mrs. 
 BuUer told me, before the arrival of Horace Twiss, that some 
 of her friends had heard of his imitations of the great orators, 
 and that he was to exhibit. The company being assembled, he 
 was requested to make a speech in thestyleof Mr. Pitt or Mr. 
 Fox, as he had done at Lady Cork's. Twiss was modest, not 
 to say bashful, — he could not do such a thing unless excited ; 
 but if Mr. Mallett or Mr. Kobinson would make a speech on 
 
1809.] ME. WALTER. 187 
 
 any subject, he would immediately reply. Unfortunately, both 
 Mr. Mallett and Mr. Kobinson were modest too, and their 
 modesty was inflexible. At length a table being set in the door- 
 way between the two drawing-rooms, the orator was so placed 
 that a profile or oblique view was had of his face in both 
 rooms, and he began : " Mr. Speaker ! " and we had two speech- 
 es in succession, in imitation of Fox and Pitt, — I think on 
 the subject of Irish union, or it might be Catholic emancipa- 
 tion. I have forgotten all but the fact that the lady who sat 
 next to me said, ^^ 0, the advantages you gentlemen have ! — 
 I never before knew the power of human oratory!''^ Human 
 oratory I will swear to. 
 
 On the 12th of August I received a letter from Mr. Walter, 
 informing me that he had no longer need of my services, and 
 on the 29th of September I formally laid down my office of 
 Foreign Editor of the Times. I left Mr. Walter on very good 
 terms ; he had a kindly feeling towards me, and his conduct 
 had been uniformly friendly and respectful. He had never 
 treated me as one who received his wages, and at his table no 
 one could have gTiessed our relation to each other. On two 
 occasions he wished me to undertake duties which are only 
 confided to trustworthy friends. Let me here bear my testi- 
 mony to his character. He may not have fixed his standard 
 at the highest point, but he endeavored to conform to it. 
 
 This is the proper place for me to mention two persons con- 
 nected with the Times while I wrote for it. The writer of the 
 gTcat leaders — the flash articles which made a noise — was 
 Peter Fraser, then a Fellow of Corpus Christi, Cambridge, 
 afterwards Rector of Kegworth, in Leicestershire. He used 
 to sit in Walter's parlor and write his articles after dinner. 
 He was never made known as editor or writer, and would 
 probably have thought it a degradation ; but he was prime 
 adviser and friend, and continued to wTite long after I had 
 ceased to do so. He was a man of general ability, and when 
 engaged for the Times was a powerful writer. The only man 
 who in a certain vehemence of declamation equalled or per- 
 haps surpassed him, was the author of the papers signed 
 " Vet us," — that is Sterling, the father of the younger Ster- 
 ling, the free-thinking clergyman^ whose remains Julius Hare 
 has published. 
 
 There is another person belonging to this period, who is a 
 character certainly worth writing about ; indeed I have known 
 few to be compared with him. It was on my first acquaintance 
 
188 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 with Walter that I used to notice in his parlor a remarkably 
 fine old gentleman. He was tall, with a stately figure and 
 handsome face. He did net appear to work much with the 
 pen, but was chiefly a consulting man. When Walter was 
 away he used to be more at the office, and to decide in the 
 dernier ressort. His name was W. Combe. It was not till 
 after I had left the office that I learned what I shall now 
 relate. At this time and until the end of his life he was an 
 inhabitant of the King's Bench Prison, and when he came to 
 Printing House Square it was only by virtue of a day rule. I 
 believe that Walter offered to release him from prison by pay- 
 ing his debts. This he would not permit, as he did not ac- 
 knowledge the equity of the claim for which he suffered im- 
 prisonment. He preferred living on an allowance from Walter, 
 and was, he said, perfectly happy. He used to be attended by 
 a young man who was a sort of half-servant, half-companion. 
 Combe had been for many years of his life a man of letters, 
 and wrote books anonymously. Some of these acquired a great 
 temporary popularity. One at least, utterly worthless, was 
 for a time, by the aid of prints as worthless as the text, to be 
 seen everywhere, — now only in old circulating libraries. This 
 is " The Travels of Dr. Syntax in search of the Picturesque." 
 It is a long poem in eight-line verse ; in external form some- 
 thing between Prior and Hudibras, but in merit with no real 
 affinity to either. Combe wrote novels ; one I recollect read- 
 ing with amusement, — the " German Gil Bias." He was also 
 the author of the famous *' Letters of a Nobleman to his Son," 
 generally ascribed to Lord Lyttelton. Amyot told me that 
 he heard Windham speak of him. '' I shall always have a 
 kindness for old Combe," said Windham, " for he was the first 
 man that ever praised me, and when praise was therefore worth 
 having." That was in "Lord Lyttelton's Letters." Combe 
 had, as I have said, the exterior of a gentleman. I understand 
 that he was a man of fortune when young, and travelled in 
 Europe, and even made a journey with Sterne ; that he ran 
 through his fortune, and took to literature, when " house and 
 land were gone and spent," and when his high connections 
 ceased to be of service. Of these connections, and of the adven- 
 tures of his youth, he was very fond of talking, and I used to 
 enjoy the anecdotes he told after dinner, until one day, when 
 he had been very communicative, and I had sucked in all 
 he related with greedy ear, Fraser said, laughing, to Walter : 
 " liobinson, you see, is quite a flat ; he believes all old Combe 
 
1809.] THE LONDON REVIEW. 189 
 
 gays." — *' I believe whatever a gentleman says till I have some 
 reason to the contrary." — "Well, then," said Fraser, "you 
 must believe nothing he says that is about himself. AVhat he 
 relates is often true, except that he makes himself the doer. 
 He gives us well-known anecdotes, and only transfers the 
 action to himself." This, of course, was a sad interruption to 
 my pleasure. I might otherwise have enriched these reminis- 
 cences with valuable facts about Sterne, Johnson, Garrick, 
 Mrs. Siddons, and other worthies of the last generation. 
 
 This infirmity of old Combe was quite notorious. Amyot 
 related to me a curious story which he heard from Dr. Parr. 
 The Doctor was at a large dinner-party w^hen Combe gave a 
 very pleasant and interesting account of his building a well- 
 known house on Keswick Lake ; he went very much into 
 details, till at last the patience of one of the party was ex- 
 hausted, and he cried out : " Why, what an impudent fellow 
 you are ! You have given a very true and capital account of 
 the house, and I wonder how you learned it ; but that house 
 w^as built by my father ; it w^as never out of the family, and is 
 in my own possession at this moment." Combe was not in the 
 least abashed, but answ^ered, with the greatest nonchalance : 
 " I am obliged to yoa for doing justice to the fidelity of my 
 description ; I have no doubt it is your property, and I hope 
 you will live. long to enjoy it." 
 
 The first occasion of my appearing in my own name as an 
 author was about this time. Tipper, who estimated my talents 
 as a wTiter by my reputation as a speaker, solicited me to be- 
 come a collahorateur, under Cumberland, the well-known drama- 
 tist, in getting up a new Review, called the London Revieiv, of 
 which the distinguishing feature was to be that each wTiter 
 should put his name to the article. I was flattered by the 
 application, and readily consented. Four half-crown quarterly 
 numbers were published. I dined once at Tipper's with Cum- 
 berland, and thought him a gentlemanly amiable man, but did 
 not form a high opinion of his abilities ; and I thought the less 
 of him because he professed so much admiration of my single 
 article as to direct it to be placed first in the number. This 
 was a review of the gTeat pamphlet on the " Convention of 
 Cintra," by Wordsworth. The only valuable portion of the 
 article was a translation of Arndt's " Geist der Zeit," which 
 treated of the Spanish character, and predicted that the 
 Spaniards would be the first to resist the tyranny of Buona- 
 parte. 
 
190 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 In November I began keeping mj terms at Middle Temple 
 Hall, but was unable to make up my mind to study the law 
 seriously, as I ought at once to have done. One of my severest 
 self-reproaches is that I did not, without delay, immediately be- 
 come the pupil of some pleader. It needed a special induce- 
 ment for that ; and all I did was merely to keep a term. On 
 November 18th I ate my first dinner, having deposited my 
 .£100 with the Treasurer. I entered the beautiful hall with 
 an oppressive sense of shame, and wished to hide myself as if I 
 were an intruder. I was conscious of being too old to com- 
 mence the study of law with any probability of success. My 
 feelings, however, were much relieved by seeing William Quayle 
 in the hall. He very good-naturedly found a place for me at his 
 mess. But this dining at mess was so unpleasant that, in keep- 
 ing the twelve terms required, I doubt whether I took a single 
 superfluous dinner, although these would only have cost 6 d. 
 each. 
 
 On the 23d of December Mr. Kutt, his nephew George 
 Wedd, and myself walked to Royston. There was a remark- 
 able gi'adation of age among us. We were on a visit to Mr. 
 Nash, who was fifteen years older than Mr. Rutt, who was 
 fifteen years older than myself, and I was in my thirty-fourth 
 year, and fifteen years older than George Wedd. Mr. Rutt 
 and I were proud of our feat, — a walk of thirty-eight miles ! 
 But old Mr. W^edd, the father ot George, was displeased with 
 his son. He was a country gentleman, proud of his horses, 
 and conscious of being a good rider. I was told that he dis- 
 liked me, and would not invite me to his house. I offered a 
 wager that I would gain his good-will. After dinner we talked 
 of books ; Mr. Wedd detested books and the quoters of books ; 
 but I persisted, and praised Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and 
 illustrated the beauty of his writing by citing that wise and 
 fine saying of his, "A fine man upon a fine horse is the noblest 
 object on earth for God to look down upon." Mr. Wedd de- 
 clared that he never thought Mr. Robinson could make him- 
 self so agreeable, and I was invited to his house. 
 
1810.] GODWIN. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 1810. 
 
 I REMAINED all the spring and summer in London, with 
 the exception of making short journeys ; and spent my 
 time at Collier's, keeping up all my old visiting acquaintance 
 and making new. I became more intimate with Godwin, w^ho 
 was keeping a bookseller's shop in his wife's name. I now and 
 then saw interesting persons at his house ; indeed, I saw none 
 but remarkable persons there. Among the most remarkable was 
 the great Irish orator, Curran. His talk was rich in idiom and 
 imagery, and in warmth of feeling. He was all passion, — fierce 
 in his dislikes, and not sparing in the freedom of his language 
 even of those with whom he was on familiar terms. One even- 
 ing, walking from Godwin's house, he said of a friend, " She is 
 a pustule of vanity." He was not so violent in his politics. The 
 short ministry of the Whigs had had the good effect of soften- 
 ing the political prejudices of most of us, though not of all the 
 old Jacobins, as is shown by a speech made by Anne Plumptre, 
 the translator of Kotzebue, whom I met at a dinner-party at 
 Gamaliel Lloyd's. She said : ** People are talking about an in- 
 vasion, — I am not afraid of an invasion ; I believe the country 
 would be all the happier if Buonaparte were to effect a landing 
 and overturn the government. He would destroy the Church 
 and the aristocracy, and his government would be better than 
 the one we have." 
 
 I amused myself this spring by writing an account of the in- 
 sane poet, painter, and engraver, Blake. Perthes of Hamburg 
 had written to me asking me to send him an article for a new^ 
 German magazine, entitled ^' Yaterlandische Annalen," which 
 he was about to set up. Dr. Malkin having in the memoirs of 
 his son given an account of Blake's extraordinary genius, with 
 specimens of his poems, I resolved out of these materials to com- 
 pile a paper. This I did, and it was translated into German by 
 Dr. Julius, who many years afterwards introduced himself to me 
 as my translator. The article appears in the single number of 
 the second volume of the *^ VaterJandische Annalen." For it was 
 at this time that Buonaparte united Hamburg to the French em- 
 pire, on which Perthes manfully gave up the magazine, saying, 
 
192 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 as he had no longer a *' Vaterland," there could be no '' Vater- 
 landische Annalen." But before I drew up this paper I ^vent to 
 see a gallery of Blake's paintings, which were exhibited by his 
 brother, a hosier in Carnaby Market. The entrance fee was 2 s, 
 6 d.j catalogue included. I was deeply interested by the cata- 
 logue as well as the pictures. I took four copies, telling the 
 brother I hoped he would let me come again. He said, *' 0, 
 as often as you please." * I afterwards became acquainted with 
 Blake, but will postpone what I have to relate of this extraordi- 
 nary character. 
 
 In the June of this year I made the acquaintance of Ayrton, 
 with whom I was intimate for many years ; and soon afterwards 
 the name of his friend Captain Burney occurs in my notes. They 
 lived near each other, in Little James Street, Pimlico. I used 
 to be invited to the Captain's whist parties, of which dear Lamb 
 was the chief ornament. The Captain was himself a character, 
 a fine, noble creature, — gentle, with a rough exterior, as be- 
 came the associate of Captain Cook in his voyages round the 
 world, and the literary historian of all these acts of circum- 
 navigation. Here used to be Hazlitt, till he affronted the Cap 
 tain by severe criticisms on the works of his sister, Madame 
 D'Arblay. Another frequenter of these delightful w^hist par- 
 ties was Rickman, the Speaker's secretary, and who then invited 
 me to his house. Rickman's clerk Phillips and others used 
 also to be present. 
 
 It was in the course of this summer that my friend Mrs. 
 Charles Aikin invited me to meet Sergeant Rough at dinner. 
 We became intimate at once. I ought to have made his ac- 
 quaintance before, for when I was at Weimar in 1805 Miss 
 Flaxman, then a governess in the family of Mr. Hare Naylor, 
 gave me a letter of introduction to him. His wife, a daughter 
 of John Wilkes, was a woman of some talents and taste, who 
 could make herself attractive. 
 
 During a visit I made to Burv^ about this time. Miss Words- 
 worth was staying with the Clarksons ; I brought her up to 
 London, and left her at the Lambs'. 
 
 Miss Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 Grasmere, November 6, 1810. 
 My dear Sir, — I am very proud of a commission which my 
 brother has given me, as it affords me an opportunity of express- 
 
 * This visit is referred to in Gilchrist's " Life of Blake," Vol. I. p. 22«. 
 
 I 
 
1810.] LETTER FROM MISS WORDSWORTH. 193 
 
 ing the pleasure with which I think of you, and of our long jour- 
 ney side by side in the pleasant sunshine, our splendid entrance 
 into the great city, and our rambles together in the crowded 
 streets. I assure you I am not ungrateful for even the least 
 of your kind attentions, and shall be happy in return to be 
 your guide amongst these mountains, where, if you bring a 
 mind free from care, I can promise you a rich store of noble 
 enjoyments. My brother and sister too will be exceedingly 
 happy to see you ; and, if you tell him stories from Spain of 
 enthusiasm, patriotism, and destestation of the usurper, my 
 brother will be a ready listener ; and in presence of these 
 gTand works of nature you may feed each other's lofty hopes. 
 We are waiting with the utmost anxiety for the issue of that 
 battle which you arranged so nicely by Charles Lamb's fireside. 
 My brother goes to seek the newspapers w^henever it is possible 
 to get a sight of one, and he is almost out of patience that the 
 tidings are delaying so long. 
 
 Pray, as you most likely see Charles at least from time to 
 time, tell me how they are going on. There is nobody in the 
 world out of our own house for whom I am more deeply inter- 
 ested. You will, I know, be happy that our little ones are all 
 going on w^ell. The little delicate Catherine, the only one for 
 whom we had any serious alarm, gains ground daily. Yet it 
 will be long before she can be, or have the appearance of being, 
 a stout child. There w^as great joy in the house at my re- 
 turn, which each showed in a different way. They are sweet 
 wild creatures, and I think you would love them all. John is 
 thoughtful with his wildness ; Dora alive, active, and quick ; 
 Thomas innocent and simple as a new^-born babe. John had 
 no feeling but of bursting joy when he saw me. Dorothy's 
 first question was, '' Where is my doll 1 " We had delightful 
 weather when T first got home; but on the first morning 
 Dorothy roused me fi'om my sleep with, " It is time to get up, 
 aunt, it is a hlasty morning, — it does blast so." And the 
 next morning, not more encouraging, she said, ^' It is a hailing 
 morning, — it hails so hard." You must know that our house 
 
 stands on a hill, exposed to all hails and blasts 
 
 D. Wordsworth. 
 
 Charles Lamb to H. C. R. 
 
 1810. 
 
 Dear R : My brother, whom you have met at my 
 
 rooms (a plump, good-looking man of seven-and-forty), has 
 
 VOL. I. 9 M " 
 
194 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 written a book about humanity, which I transmit to you here- 
 with. Wilson the publisher has put it into his head that you 
 can get it reviewed for him. I dare say it is not in the scope 
 of your Eeview ; but if you could put it in any likely train 
 ne would rejoice. For, alas 1 our boasted humanity partakes 
 of vanity. As it is, he teases me to death with choosing to 
 suppose that I could get it into all the Keviews at a mo- 
 ment's notice. I ! ! who have been set up as a mark for them 
 to throw at, and would willingly consign them all to Megsera's 
 snaky locks. 
 
 But here 's the book, and don't show it to Mrs. Collier, for 
 I remember she makes excellent eel soup, and the leading 
 points of the book are directed against that very process. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 Miss Wordsworth left London just at the time of the arrival 
 of Madame Lavaggi, the Spanish lady of whom I have already 
 spoken. She came to England because the presence of the 
 French rendered her own country intolerable to her. She was 
 a high-spirited patriot and also a good Catholic, but thorough- 
 ly liberal as far as her narrow information permitted. The 
 only occasion on which she showed any bigoted or ungenerous 
 feeling was on my showing her at the Tower of London the 
 axe with which Anne Boleyn was beheaded. '' Ah ! que 
 j 'adore cet instrument ! " she exclaimed. On my remonstrat- 
 ing with her, she told me she had been brought up to con- 
 sider Anne Boleyn as one possessed by a devil ; that naughty 
 children were frightened by the threat of being sent to her ; 
 and that she was held to be the great cause of the Reforma- 
 tion, as the seducer of the King, &c., &c. No wonder that 
 Romanists should so think, when Protestants have extensively 
 circulated that very foolish line ascribed to Gray, — 
 
 " When Gospel truth first beamed from Anna's eyes." 
 
 Madame Lavaggi received my correction of her notions in 
 the very best spirit. " She is the one Spaniard of whom I think 
 with especial respect and kindness. We of colder tempera- 
 ment and more sober minds feel ourselves oppressed by the 
 stronger feelings of more passionate characters, — at least this 
 is the case with me. At the same time I fully recognize the 
 dignity of passion, and am able to admire what I have not, 
 and am not. 
 
 I 
 
1810.] COLERIDGE. 195 
 
 At the end of this year I wrote a few pages entu-ely devoted 
 to Coleridge. The following is the substance of them : — 
 
 November IJfth, — Saw Coleridge for the first time in 
 private, at Charles Lamb's. A short interview, which allowed 
 of little opportunity for the display of his peculiar powers. 
 
 He related to us that Jeffrey, the editor of the Edinburgh 
 Review, had lately called on him, and assured him that he 
 was a great admirer of Wordsworth's poetry, that the Lyrical 
 Ballads were always on his table, and that Wordsworth had 
 been attacked in the Kevieiv simply because the errors of men 
 of genius ought to be exposed. Towards me, Coleridge added, 
 Jeffrey was even flattering. He was like a school-boy, who, 
 having tried his man and been thrashed, becomes contentedly 
 a fag. 
 
 November loth, — A very delightful evening at Charles 
 Lamb's ; Coleridge, Morgan, Mr. Burney, &c., there. Coler- 
 idge very eloquent on German metaphysics and poetry, 
 Wordsworth, and Spanish politics. 
 
 Of W^ordsworth he spoke with gTeat warmth of praise, but 
 objected to some of his poems. Wishing to avoid an undue 
 regard to the high and genteel in society, Wordsworth had un- 
 reasonably attached himself to the low, so that he himself 
 erred at last. He shoidd have recollected that verse being 
 the language of passion, and passion dictating energetic ex- 
 pressions, it became him to make his subjects and style accord. 
 One asks why tales so simple were not in prose. With '^ mal- 
 ice prepense" he fixes on objects of reflection, which do not 
 naturally excite it. Coleridge censm^ed the disproportion in 
 the machinery of the poem on the Gypsies. Had the whole 
 world been standing idle, more powerful arguments to expose 
 the evil could not have been brought forward. Of Kant he spoke 
 in teiTns of high admiration. In his " Himmel's System " he ap- 
 peared to unite the genius of Burnet and Newton. He praised 
 also the " Traume eines Geistersehers," and intimated that he 
 should one day translate the work on the Sublime and Beautiful. 
 The " Kritik der f rtheilskraft " he considered the most aston- 
 ishing of Kant's works. Both Fichte and Schelling he thought 
 would be found at last to have erred where they deviated from 
 Kant ; but he considered Fichte a great logician, and Schelling 
 perhaps a still greater man. In both he thought the want of 
 gratitude towards their master a sign of the absence of the 
 highest excellence. Schelling's system resolves itself into fa- 
 naticism, not better than that of Jacob Boehme. Coleridge 
 
196 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13 
 
 had known Tieck at Rome, but was not aware of his emmence 
 as a poet. He conceded to Goethe universal talent, but felt a 
 want of moral life to be the defect of his poetry. Schiller he 
 spoke more kindly of. He quoted " Nimmer, das glaubt mir, 
 erscheinen die Gotter, nimmer allein." * (He has since trans* 
 lated it.) Of Jean Paul he said that his wit consisted not in 
 pointing out analogies in themselves striking, but in finding 
 unexpected analogies. You admire, not the things combined, 
 but the act of combination. He applied this also to Windham. 
 But is not this the character of all Avit ] That which he con- 
 trasted with it as a different kind of wit is in reality not wit, 
 but acuteness. He made an elaborate distinction between 
 fancy and imagination. The excess of fancy is delirium, of 
 imagination mania. Fancy is the arbitrarily bringing together 
 of things that lie remote, and forming them into a unity. The 
 materials lie ready for the fancy, which acts by a sort of jux- 
 taposition. On the other hand, the imagination under excite- 
 ment generates and produces a form of its own. The " seas of 
 milk and ships of amber " he quoted as fanciful delirium. He 
 related, as a sort of disease of imagination, w^hat occurred to 
 himself He had been watching intently the motions of a 
 kite among the mountains of Westmoreland, when on a sud- 
 den he saw two kites in an opposite direction. This delusion 
 lasted some time. At last he discovered that the two kites 
 were the fluttering branches of a tree beyond a wall. 
 
 November 18th. — At Godwin's with Northcote, Coleridge, 
 &c. Coleridge made himself very merry at the expense of Fuseli, 
 whom he always called Fuzzle or Fuzly. He told a story of Fu- 
 seli's being on a visit at Liverpool at a time when unfortunate- 
 ly he had to divide the attention of the public with a Prussian 
 soldier, who had excited a great deal of notice by his enorm_ous 
 powers of eating. And the annoyance was aggravated by per- 
 sons persisting in considering the soldier as Fuseli's country- 
 man. He spent his last evening at Dr. Crompton's,t when 
 Koscoe (whose visitor Fuseli was) took an opportunity of giv- 
 ing a hint to the party that no one should mention the 
 glutton. The admonition unfortunately was not heard by a »^ 
 
 lady, who, turning to the great Academician and lecturer, said : •^- 
 
 " Well, sir, your countryman has been surpassing himself! " — 
 " Madame," growled the irritated painter, " the fellow is no 
 
 * " Never alone, believe me, do the Gods appear." This poem is entitled 
 ** Dithvrambe " in the twelve-volume edition of Schiller's works, 1838. Vol. I 
 p. 240.' 
 
 t The father of Judge Crompton. 
 
1810.] COLERIDGE ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 197 
 
 countryman of mine." — "He is a foreigner! Have you not 
 heard what he has been doing ] He has eaten a hve cat ! " — 
 ** A hve cat ! " every one exclaimed, except Fuseh, whose rage 
 was excited by the suggestion of a lady famous for her blun- 
 ders, '' Dear me, Mr. Fuseli, that would be a fine subject for 
 your pencil." — " My pencil, madam V — " To be sure, sir, as 
 the horrible is your forte." — " You mean the terrible, madam," 
 he replied, w4th an assumed composure, muttering at the same 
 time between his teeth, " if a silly w^oman can mean anything." 
 
 December 20th, — Met Coleridge by accident with Charles 
 and Mary Lamb. As I entered he was apparently speaking of 
 Christianity. He went on to say that miracles are not an es- 
 sential in the Christian system. He insisted that they were 
 not brought forward as proofs ; that they w^ere acknowledged 
 to have been performed by others as w^ell as the true believers. 
 Pharaoh's magicians wrought miracles, though those of Moses 
 were more powerful. In the New Testament, the appeal is 
 made to the knowledge w^hich the believer has of the truths of 
 his religion, not to the wonders wrought to make him believe. 
 Of Jesus Christ he asserted that he was a Platonic philosopher. 
 And when Christ spoke of his identity with the Father, he 
 spoke in a Spinozistic or Pantheistic sense, according to which 
 he could truly say that his transcendental sense was one with 
 God, w^hile his empirical sense retained its finite nature. On 
 my making the remark that in a certain sense every one w^ho 
 utters a truth may be said to be inspired, Coleridge assented, 
 and afterwards named Fox and others among the Quakers, 
 Madame Guyon, St. Theresa, &c., as being also inspired. 
 
 On my suggesting, in the form of a question, that an eternal 
 absolute truth, like those of religion, could not be proved by an 
 accidental fact in history, he at once assented, and declared it 
 to be not advisable to ground the belief in Christianity on his- 
 torical evidence. He w^ent so far as to affirm that religious 
 belief is an act, not of the understanding, but of the w^ill. To 
 become a believer, one must love the doctrine, and feel in har- 
 mony with it, and not sit dow^n coolly to inquire whether he 
 should believe it or not. 
 
 Notwithstanding the sceptical tendency of such opinions, 
 Coleridge added, that accepting Christianity as he did in its 
 spirit in conformity with his ow^n philosophy, he was content 
 for the sake of its divine truths to receive as articles of faith, 
 or, perhaps I ought to say, leave undisputed, the miracles of the 
 New Testament, taken in their literal sense. 
 
198 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13 
 
 In writing this I am reminded of one of the famous sayings 
 of Pascal, which Jacobi quotes repeatedly : '<• The things that 
 belong to men must be understood in order that they may be 
 loved ; the things that belong to God must be loved in order 
 to be understood." 
 
 Coleridge warmly praised Spinoza, Jacobi on Spinoza, and 
 Schiller " Ueber die Sendung Moses," &c. And he concurred 
 with me in thinking the main fault of Spinoza to be his at- 
 tempting to reduce to demonstration that which must be an 
 object of faith. He did not agree with Charles Lamb in his 
 admiration of those playful and delightful plays of Shake- 
 speare, " Love's Labor's Lost " and the " Midsummer Night's 
 Dream " ; but both affirmed that not a line of " Titus Andron- 
 icus " could have been from Shakespeare's pen. 
 
 December 2Sd. — Coleridge dined with the Colliers, talked a 
 vast deal, and delighted every one. Politics, Kantian philos- 
 ophy, and Shakespeare successively, — and at last a playful 
 exposure of some bad poets. His remarks on Shakespeare 
 were singularly ingenious. Shakespeare, he said, delighted in 
 portraying characters in which the intellectual powers are 
 found in a pre-eminent degree, while the moral faculties are 
 wanting, at the same time that he taught the superiority of 
 moral greatness. Such is the contrast exhibited in lago and 
 Othello. lago's most marked feature is his delight in govern- 
 ing by fraud and superior understanding the noble-minded and 
 generous Moor. In Richard III. cruelty is less the prominent 
 trait than pride, to which a sense of personal deformity gave a 
 deadly venom. Coleridge, however, asserted his belief that 
 Shakespeare wrote hardly anything of this play except the 
 character of Richard : he found the piece a stock play and re- 
 wrote the parts which developed the hero's character : he cer- 
 tainly did not write the scenes in which Lady Anne yielded to 
 the usurper's solicitations. He considered " Pericles" as illus- 
 trating the way in which Shakespeare handled a piece he had to 
 refit for representation. At first he proceeded with indifference, 
 only now and then troubling himself to put in a thought or 
 an image, but as he advanced he interested himself in his 
 employment, and the last two acts are almost entirely by 
 him. 
 
 Hamlet he considered in a point of view which seems to 
 agree very well with the representation given in '^ Wilhelm 
 Meister," Hamlet is a man whose ideal and internal images 
 are so vivid that all real objects are faint and dead to him. 
 
1810.] COLERIDGE ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS 199 
 
 This wc see in his soliloquies on the nature of man and his 
 disregard of life : hence also his vacillation, and the purely 
 convulsive energies he displayed. He acts only by fits and 
 snatches. He manifests a strong inclination to suicide. On my 
 observing that it appeared strange Shakespeare did not make 
 suicide the teraiination of his piece, Coleridge replied that 
 Shakespeare wished to show how even such a character is at last 
 obliged to be the sport of chance, — a salutary moral doctrine. 
 
 But I thought this the suggestion of the moment only, and 
 not a happy one, to obviate a seeming objection. Hamlet re- 
 mains at last the helpless, unpractical being, though every in- 
 ducement to activity is given which the very appearance of the 
 spirit of his murdered father could bring with it. 
 
 Coleridge also considered Falstaff as an instance of the pre- 
 dominance of intellectual power. He is content to be thought 
 both a liar and a coward in order to obtain influence over the 
 minds of his associates. His aggravated lies about the robbery 
 are conscious and purposed, not inadvertent untruths. On 
 my observing that this account seemed to justify Cooke's rep- 
 resentation, according to which a foreigner imperfectly under- 
 standing the character would fancy Falstaff the designing knave 
 who does actually outwit the Prince, Coleridge answered that, in 
 his own es^.wation, Falstaff is the superior, who cannot easily be 
 convinced that the Prince has escaped him ; but that, as in other 
 instances, Shakespeare has shown us the defeat of mere intel- 
 lect by a noble feeling ; the Prince being the superior moral 
 character, who rises above his insidious companion. 
 
 On my noticing Hume's obvious preference of the French 
 tragedians to Shakespeare, Coleridge exclaimed : " Hume com- 
 prehended as much of Shakespeare as an apothecary's phial 
 would, placed under the falls of Niagara." 
 
 We ppoke of Milton. He was, said Coleridge, a most deter- 
 mined aristocrat, an enemy to popular elections, and he would 
 have been most decidedly hostile to the Jacobins of the pres- 
 ent day. He would have thought our popular freedom exces- 
 sive. He was of opinion that the government belonged to the 
 wise, and he thought the people fools. In all his works there 
 is but one exceptionable passage, — that in which he vindicates 
 the expulsion of the members from the House of Commons by 
 Cromwell. Coleridge on this took occasion to express his ap- 
 probation of the death of Charles. 
 
 Of Milton's *' Paradise Regained," he observed that however 
 inferior its kind is to " Paradise Lost," its execution is superior. 
 
200 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 This was all Milton meant in the preference he is said to have 
 given to his later poem. It is a didactic poem, and formed on 
 the model of Job. 
 
 Coleridge remarked on the lesson of tolerance taught 
 us by the opposite opinions entertained concerning the 
 death of Charles by such great men as Milton and Jeremy 
 Taylor. 
 
 Jeremy Taylor's " Holy Dying," he affirmed, is a perfect 
 poem, and in all its particulars, even the rhythm, may be com- 
 pared with Young's *' Night Thoughts." In the course of his 
 metaphysical conversation, Coleridge remarked on Hartley's 
 theory of association. This doctrine is as old as Aristotle, and 
 Hartley himself, after publishing his system, when he wrote 
 his second volume on religion, built his proofs, not on the 
 maxims of his first volume, which he had already learnt to 
 appreciate better, but on the principles of other schools. Col- 
 eridge quoted (I forget from whom) a description of association 
 as the '' law of our imagination." Thought, he observed, is a 
 laborious breaking through the law of association ; the natural 
 train of fancy is violently repressed ; the free yielding to its 
 power produces dreaming or delirium. The great absurdity 
 committed by those who would build everything on association 
 is that they forget the things associated : these are left out of 
 the account. 
 
 Of Locke he spoke, as usual, with great contempt, that is, 
 in reference to his metaphysical work. He considered him as 
 having led to the destruction of metaphysical science, by en- 
 couraging the unlearned public to think that with mere com- 
 mon sense they might dispense with disciplined study. He 
 praised Stillingfleet as Locke's opponent ; and he ascribed 
 Locke's popularity to his political character, being the advocate 
 of the new against the old dynasty, to his religious character 
 as a Christian, though but an Arian, — for both parties, the 
 Christians against the sceptics, and the liberally minded against 
 the orthodox, were glad to raise his reputation ; and to the 
 nationality of the people, who considered him and Newton as 
 the adversaries of the German Leibnitz. Voltaire, to depress 
 Leibnitz, raised Locke. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 " Coleridge kept me on the stretch of attention and admira- 
 tion from half past three till twelve o'clock. On politics, 
 
1810.] FLAXMAN. 201 
 
 metaphysics, and poetry, more especially on the Regency, Kant, 
 and Shakespeare, he was astonishingly eloquent. But I can- 
 not help remarking that, although he practises all sorts of de- 
 lightful tricks, and shows admirable skill in riding his hobby, 
 yet he may be easily unsaddled. I w\as surprised to find how- 
 one may obtain from him concessions which lead to gross in- 
 consistencies. Though an incomparable declaimer and speech- 
 maker, he has neither the readiness nor the acuteness required 
 by a colloquial disputant ; so that, with a sense of inferiority 
 which makes me feel humble in his presence, I do not feel in 
 the least afraid of him. Eough said yesterday, that he is sure 
 Coleridge would never have succeeded at the bar even as a 
 speaker." 
 
 This I wrote when I knew little of him ; I used afterwards 
 to compare him as a disputant to a serpent 1 — easy to kill, if 
 you assume the offensive, but if you let him attack, his bite is 
 mortal. Some years after this, when I saw Madame de Stael 
 in London, I asked her w^hat she thought of him : she replied, 
 ^ ' He is very great in monologue, but he has no idea of dia- 
 logue." This I repeated, and it appeared in the Quarterly/ 
 Review. 
 
 It was at the very close of the year that I made an acquaint- 
 ance w^hich afforded me unqualified satisfaction, except as all 
 enjoyments that are transient are followed by sorrow when 
 they are terminated. This new acquaintance was the great 
 sculptor, John Flaxman. 
 
 Having learned from Rough that my German acquaintance, 
 Miss Flaxman, had returned, and was living with her brother, 
 T called on her to make my apologies for neglecting to deliver 
 my letter to Rough. She received them, not with undignified 
 indifference, but w^th great good-natm-e. On this occasion I 
 w^as introduced to Mrs. Flaxman, a shrewd lively talkative 
 w^oman, and received an invitation to spend the last night of 
 the year with them. The whole day w^as interesting. I find 
 from my pocket-book that I translated in the forenoon a 
 portion of Goethe's " Sammler und die Seinigen," which I nev- 
 er ended, because I could not invent English comic vrords to 
 express the abuses arising from one-sidedness in the several 
 schools of painting. In the afternoon I sat with Mrs. Barbauld, 
 still in all the beauty of her fine taste, correct understanding, 
 as well as pure integrity ; and, in the evening, I was one of a 
 meny party at Flaxman's. But this evening I saw^ merely the 
 9^ 
 
202 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13 
 
 good-humored, even frolicsome, kind-hearted man. Every 
 sportive word and action of Flaxman's was enhanced by his 
 grotesque figure. He had an inteUigent and benignant counte- 
 nance, but he was short and humpbacked, so that in his 
 laughter it often seemed as if he were mocking himself. 
 There were the Koughs and a few others, enough to fill 
 two very small rooms (No. 7 Buckingham Street, which Flax- 
 man bought when he settled in London on his return from 
 Italy, and in which he died). He introduced to me a lively, 
 rather short, and stout girl, whom he called his " daughter 
 Ellen." I took him literally, and said I thought he had no 
 child. " Only in one way she is my daughter. Her other 
 father, there, is Mr. Porden, the architect." This same Ellen 
 Porden became ultimately the wife of Captain Franklin, the 
 North Pole voyager. 
 
 It was also in this year that I became acquainted with Man- 
 ning,* then a special pleader, now, perhaps, the most learned 
 man at the bar, sergeant or barrister. He was the son of a 
 well-known Arian divine at Exeter, and he has had the manli- 
 ness and integrity never to be ashamed of Dissent. 
 
 I ought not to omit the circumstance that I kept four terms 
 this year. 
 
 H. C. E. TO Miss Wordsworth. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, December 23, 1810. 
 My dear Madam : — 
 
 .... I have postponed answering your acceptable letter till 
 I could speak to you concerning our common friends, the 
 Lambs. 
 
 Mary, I am glad to say, is just now very comfortable. But 
 I hear she has been in a feeble and tottering condition. She 
 has put herself under Dr. Tuthill, who has prescribed water. 
 Charles, in consequence, resolved to accommodate himself to 
 her, and since lord-mayor's day has abstained from all other 
 liquor, as well as from smoking. We shall all rejoice, indeed, 
 if this experiment succeeds. 
 
 Who knows but that this promising resolution may have 
 been strengthened by the presence of Coleridge 1 1 have spent 
 several evenings with your friend. I say a great deal when I 
 
 * The Queen's Ancient Sergeant, who died in 1866. 
 
 In early life Manning devoted himself for a year and a half to agriculture. 
 Afterwards he went to Germany for a year, to learn the language, in order to 
 fit himself for mercantile pursuits. Finally he fixed ^n the law as a profear 
 sion. 
 
1810. 
 
 LETTER TO MISS WORDSWORTH. 
 
 203 
 
 declare that he has not sunk below my expectations, for they 
 were never raised so before by the fame of any man. He ap- 
 pears to be quite well, and if the admiration he excites in me 
 be mingled wdth any sentiments of compassion, this latter feel- 
 ing proceeds rather from what I have heard, than from what I 
 have seen. He has more eloquence than any man I ever saw, 
 except perhaps Curran, the Irish orator, w^ho possesses in a 
 very high degree the only excellence which Coleridge wants to 
 be a perfect parlor orator, viz. short sentences. Coleridge 
 cannot co?iverse. He addresses himself to his hearers. At 
 the same time, he is a much better listener than I expected. 
 
 Your kind invitation to the Lakes is most welcome. If I do 
 not embrace the offer, be assured it is not from want of a 
 strong desire to do so. I wish for no journey so much, except, 
 indeed, another voyage to Spain. My admiration, my love, 
 and anxious care continue to be fixed on that country ; and I 
 have no doubt that if my hopes are not so lofty as those your 
 brother cherishes, it is only because I am myself not so lofty. 
 
 Coleridge spent an afternoon with us on Sunday. He was 
 delightful. Charles Lamb was unwell, and could not join us. 
 His change of habit, though it on the whole improves his 
 health, yet when he is low-spirited leaves him without a remedy 
 Dr relief. 
 
 To Mr. Wordsworth my best remembrances. We want 
 anprofaned and unprostituted words to express the kind of 
 feeling I entertain towards him. 
 
 Believe me, &c., &c., 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 P. S. — I was interested in your account of the children, and 
 their reception of you ; but it is not only mountain children 
 that malce verbs. I heard an Essex child of seven say lately, 
 in delight at a fierce torrent of rain, " How it is storming ! " 
 The same boy had just before said, '^ I love to see it roaring 
 and pouring." I have more than once remarked the elements 
 of poetic sense in him. 
 
204 REMINISCENCES OF HENEY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 1811. 
 
 THIS year I began to keep a Diary. This relieves me 
 from one difficulty, but raises another. Hitherto I have 
 had some trouble in bringing back to my memory the most 
 material incidents in the proper order. It was a labor of col- 
 lection. Now I have to select. When^ looking at a diary, 
 there seems to be too little distinction between the insignifi- 
 cant and the important, and one is reminded of the proverb, 
 " The wood cannot be seen for the trees." * 
 
 January 8th, — Spent part of the evening with Charles Lamb 
 (unwell) and his sister. He had just read the " Curse of Ke- 
 hama," which he said he liked better than any of Southey's 
 long poems. The descriptions he thought beautiful, particu- 
 larly the finding of Kailyal by Ereenia. He liked the opening, 
 and part of the description of hell ; but, after all, he was not 
 made happier by reading the poem. There is too much trick 
 in it. The three statues and the vacant space for Kehama 
 resemble a pantomime scene ; and the love is ill managed. On 
 the whole, however, Charles Lamb thinks the poem infinitely 
 superior to ^' Thalaba." 
 
 We spoke of Wordsworth and Coleridge. To my surprise, 
 Lamb asserted the latter to be the greater man. He preferred 
 the "• Ancient Mariner " to anything Wordsworth had written. 
 He thought the latter too apt to force his own individual feel- 
 ings on the reader, instead of, like Shakespeare, entering fully 
 into the feelings of others. This, I observed, is very much 
 owing to the lyrical character of Wordsworth's poems. And 
 Lamb concluded by expressing high admiration of Wordsworth, 
 and especially of the Sonnets. He also spoke of " Hart-leap 
 Well " as exquisite. 
 
 Some one, speaking of Shakespeare, mentioned his anachro- 
 nism in which Hector speaks of Aristotle. " That 's what 
 Johnson referred to," said Lamb, " when he wrote, — 
 
 f ' " 
 
 *And panting Time toils after him in vain I 
 
 * Henceforward selections will be given from the Diary, with additions from 
 the Reminiscences. These additions will be marked [iJem.], and the year in 
 which they were written will be stated at the foot of the page. 
 
 
1811.] COVENT GARDEN THEATRE. 205 
 
 January 17th, — In the evening a call at Flaxman's. Read 
 to Mrs. Flaxman a part of Schlegel's '' Critique on the Designs 
 for Dante," which of course gratified her. She told me they 
 were done in Italy for Mr. Hope, on very moderate terms, 
 merely to give Flaxman employment for the evening. Fuseli, 
 when he saw them, said, " I used to think myself the best 
 composer, but now I own Flaxman to be the greater man." 
 Some years ago, when I met Flaxman at Mrs. Iremonger's, I 
 mentioned Schlegel's praise of him for his preference of Dante 
 to Milton. It w^as, said Schlegel, a proof that ^. he surpassed 
 his countrymen in taste. Flaxman said he could not accept 
 ^/he compliment on the ground of preference. He thought 
 Milton the very greatest of poets, and he could not forgive 
 Charles James Fox for not liking him. He had three reasons 
 for choosing Dante. First, he was unwilling to interfere with 
 Fuseli, who had made choice of Milton for his designs. Sec- 
 ond, Milton supplies few figures, while Dante abounds in them. 
 And, third, he had heard that Michael Angelo had made a 
 number of designs in the margin of a copy of Dante. 
 
 Mrs. Flaxman said, this evening, that the common cloak of 
 the lower classes in Italy suggested the drapery for Virgil and 
 Dante. While we were talking on this subject Flaxman came 
 in. He spoke with great modesty of his designs ; he could 
 do better now, and wished the Germans had something better 
 on which to exercise their critical talents. 
 
 January 19th, — With Collier, &c., at Covent Garden. 
 ^' Twelfth Night," — Liston's Malvolio excellent. I never saw 
 him to greater advantage. It is a character in all respects 
 adapted to him. His inimitable gravity till he receives the 
 letter, and his incomparable smiles in the cross-gartered scene, 
 are the perfection of nature and art united. 
 
 January 29th, — I walked with Coleridge to Rickman's, where 
 we dined. He talked on Shakespeare, particularly his Fools. 
 These he regarded as supplying the place of the ancient cho- 
 rus. The ancient drama, he observed, is distinguished from 
 the Shakespearian in this, that it exhibits a sort of abstraction, 
 not of character, but of idea. A certain sentiment or passion 
 is exhibited in all its purity, unmixed with anything that could 
 interfere with its effect. Shakespeare, on the other hand, im- 
 itates life, mingled as we find it with joy and sorrow. We 
 meet constantly in life with persons who are, as it were, un- 
 feeling spectators of the most passionate situations. The Fool 
 serves to supply the place of some such uninterested person, 
 
206 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. It. 
 
 where all the other characters are interested. The most gen- 
 ume and real of Shakespeare's Fools is in '' Lear.'^ In " Ham- 
 let " the fool is, as it were, divided into several parts, dispersed 
 through the play. 
 
 On our walk back Coleridge spoke warmly and eloquently on 
 the effect of laws in the formation of moral character and feel- 
 ing in a people. He differed from Bentham's censure of the 
 laws of usury, Coleridge contending that those laws, by 
 exciting a general contempt towards usurers, had a deterring 
 effect on many. Genoa fell by becoming a people of money- 
 lenders instead of merchants. In money loans one party is in 
 sorrow ; in the traffic of merchandise, both parties gain and 
 rejoice. This led to talk on the nature of criminal law in 
 general. Some acts, viz. murder, rape, unnatural offences, 
 are to be punished for the sake of the effect on the public 
 mind, that a just sentiment may be taught, and not merely for 
 the sake of prevention. The acts ought in themselves to be 
 punished. He dwelt on the influence of law in forming the 
 public mind, and giving direction to moral feeling. 
 
 February/ 1st. — A visit to a most accomplished lady of the 
 old school, Mrs. Buller.* The poems- of Southey and Scott 
 she has put into her Index Expurgatorius. She cannot bear 
 the irregularity of their versification. Mr. Jerningham was 
 present, and she called him to his face "the last of the old 
 school." He is already forgotten, more completely than those 
 will be whom his friend and contemporary treated so contempt- 
 uously. 
 
 February/ 18th. — At the Royal Academy. Heard Flaxman's 
 introductory Lecture on Sculpture. It was for the most part, 
 or entirely, historical. He endeavored to show that in all 
 times English sculptors have excelled when not prevented by 
 extraneous circumstances. This gave great pleasure to a 
 British audience. In one or two instances the lecture was 
 applauded in a way that he would be ashamed of He spoke 
 of some cathedral sculpture of the time of Henry VIII. , and, 
 contrasting the remains of different artists, said, " Here, too, 
 we find that the British artists were superior to their rivals on 
 the Continent." This was received with loud clapping. The 
 John-Bullism displayed was truly ridiculous. Flaxman, how- 
 ever, pleased me in every respect in which I had a right to be 
 pleased. He spoke like an artist who loved and honored his 
 art, but without any personal feeling. He had all the unpre- 
 
 * See page 252. 
 
1811.] AN EVENING WITH W. HAZLITT. 207 
 
 tending simplicity of a truly great man. His unimposing 
 figure received consequence from the animation of his counte- 
 nance ; and his voice, though feeble, was so judiciously managed 
 and so clear, and his enunciation was so distinct, that he was 
 audible to a large number of people. 
 
 March 12th. — Tea and chess with Mrs. Barbauld. Read on 
 my way to her house Chapters VIII. to XIV. of Southey's 
 " Madoc." Exceedingly pleased with the touching painting in 
 this poem. It has not the splendid glare of " Kehama," but 
 there is a uniform glow of pure and beautiful morality and 
 interesting description, which renders the work very pleasing. 
 Surely none but a pedant can affect or be seduced to think 
 slightingly of this poem. At aU events, the sensibility which 
 feels such beauties is more desirable than the acuteness which 
 could suggest severe criticism. 
 
 March ISth. — A talk with Coleridge, who called on me. 
 Speaking of Southey, he said S. was not able to appreciate 
 Spanish poetry. He wanted modifying power : he was a 
 jewel-setter, — whatever he found to his taste, he formed it 
 into, or made it into, the ornament of a story. 
 
 March 2Jfth. — A call on Coleridge, who expatiated beauti- 
 fully on the beneficial influence of brotherly and sisterly love 
 in the formation of character. He attributed, he said, certain 
 peculiarities in persons whom he named to the circumstance 
 that they had no brother.* 
 
 March 29th. — Spent the evening with W. Hazlitt. Smith, 
 his wife and son, Hume, Coleridge, and afterwards Lamb there. 
 Coleridge philosophized as usual. He said that all systems of 
 philosophy might be reduced to two, the dynamical and the 
 mechanical ; the one converting all quantity into quality, the 
 other vice versa. He and Hazlitt joined in an obscure state- 
 ment about abstract ideas. Hazlitt said he had learnt from 
 painting that it is difficult to form an idea of an individual 
 object, — that we first have only a general idea ; that is, a 
 vague, broken, imperfect recollection of the individual object. 
 This I observed was what the multitude meant by a general 
 idea, and Hazlitt said he had no other. Coleridge spoke of 
 the impossibility of refemng the individual to the class without 
 having a previous notion of the class. This is Kantian logic. 
 
 We talked of politics. It was amusing to observe how 
 
 * On some other occasion I recollect his saying that he envied AVords worth 
 for having had a sister, and that his own character had suffered from the want 
 of a sister. — H. C. R. 
 
208 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 Coleridge blundered against Scotchmen and Frenchmen. He 
 represented the Edinburgh Review as a concentration of all the 
 smartness of all Scotland. Edinburgh is a talking town, and 
 whenever, in the Conversaziones, a single spark is elicited, it is 
 instantly caught, preserved, and brought to the Review, He 
 denied humor to the nation. Smith appealed in behalf of 
 Smollett. Coleridge endeavored to make a distinction, i. e. to 
 maintain his point, and yet allow the claim of Smith. 
 
 Before Lamb came, Coleridge had spoken with warmth of 
 his excellent and serious conversation. Hazlitt imputed his 
 puns to humility. 
 
 March SOth, — At C. Lamb's. Found Coleridge and Hazlitt 
 there, and had a half-hour's chat. Coleridge spoke feelingly 
 of Godwin and the unjust treatment he had met with. In 
 apology for Southey's review of Godwin's " Life of Chaucer," 
 Coleridge ingeniously observed that persons who are them- 
 selves very pure are sometimes on that account hlunt in their 
 moral feelings. This I believe to be a very true remark in- 
 deed. Something like this I have expressed respecting . 
 
 She is perfectly just herself, and expects everybody to be 
 equally so. She is consequently severe, and occasionally 
 even harsh in her judgments. 
 
 *' For right too rigid hardens into wrong." 
 
 Coleridge used strong language against those who were once 
 the extravagant admirers of Godwin, and afterwards became 
 his most bitter opponents. I noticed the infinite superiority 
 of Godwin over the French writers in moral feeling and ten- 
 dency. I had learned to hate Helvetius and Mirabeau, and 
 yet retained my love for Godwin. This was agreed to as a just 
 sentiment. Coleridge said there was more in Godwin, after all, 
 than he was once willing to admit, though not so much as his 
 enthusiastic admirers fancied. He had openly opposed him, 
 but nevertheless visited him. Southey's severity he attributed 
 to the habit of reviewing. Southey had said of Coleridge's 
 poetry that he was a Dutch imitator of the Germans. Cole- 
 ridge quoted this, not to express any displeasure at it, but to 
 show in w^hat way Southey could speak of him. 
 
 Went with C. Lamb to the Lyceum. " The Siege of Bel- 
 gTade " afforded me considerable amusement. The comic 
 scenes are droll, though commonplace enough, and Miss Kel- 
 ly and Mathews gave due effect to them. But Braham's sing- 
 ing delighted me. His trills, shakes, and quavers are, like 
 
1811.] OPERA HOUSE. 209 
 
 those of all other great singers, tiresome to me ; but his pure 
 melody, the simple song clearly articulated, is equal to any- 
 thing I ever heard. His song was acted as well as sung 
 delightfully. Indeed I think Braham a fine actor while sing- 
 ing ; he throws his soul into his throat, but his whole frame 
 is awakened, and his gestures and looks are equally impas- 
 sioned. 
 
 When Dignum and Mrs. Bland came on the stage together, 
 Charles Lamb exclaimed, 
 
 " And lo, two puddings smoked upon the board ! " 
 
 April 2d. — A walk to Clapton, reading, " Colonel Jack," the 
 latter half of which is but dull and commonplace. The mo- 
 ment he ceases to be a thief, he loses everything interesting. 
 Yet there runs through the w^ork a spirit of humanity which 
 does honor to De Foe. He powerfully pleaded for a humane 
 treatment of the slaves of America, at a time when no man 
 thought of abolishing slavery itself. 
 
 April Jfih. — At Pope's benefit, at the Opera House. "The 
 Earl of Warwick." Mrs. Siddons most nobly played her part 
 as Margaret of Anjou. The character is one to which she can 
 still render justice. She looked ill, and I thought her articu- 
 lation indistinct, and her voice drawling and funereal during 
 the first act ; but as she advanced in the play, her genius tri- 
 umphed over natural impediments. She was all that could be 
 wished. The scene in which she wrought upon the mind of 
 Warwick was perfect. And in the last act, her triumphant 
 joy at the entrance of Warwick, whom she had, stabbed, was 
 incomparable. She laughed convulsively, and staggered off 
 the stage as if drunk with delight ; and in every limb showed 
 the tumult of passion with an accuracy and a force equally im- 
 pressive to the critic and the man of feeling. 
 
 Her advancing age is a real pain to me. As an actor, she has 
 left with me the conviction that there never was, and never 
 will be, her equal. 
 
 Elliston played Edward. He is a fine bustling comedian ; 
 but he bustles also in trac^edv. 
 
 Braham sang delightfully " Said a Smile to a Tear." He is 
 incomparably the most delightful male singer I ever heard. 
 
 Liston, in the " Waterman," gave a burlesque song with ad- 
 mirable humor. I believe he will soon be acknowledged to be 
 our first comedian. He raises more universal laughs than any 
 one, excepting perhaps Mathews, who is only a first-rate 
 
 N 
 
210 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 toimic. Listen burlesqued Braham, and there arose a contest 
 between the lovers of burlesque and the jealous admirers of ex- 
 quisite music ; but the reasonable party prevailed, and Lis- 
 ten's encored song was received with great applause, though 
 the burlesque was not less apparent than before. 
 
 Incledon sang '' The Storm." It was said to be fine. Math- 
 ews sang his '' Mail Coach," — a most excellent thing in its 
 way. 
 
 I have seldom had so much pleasure at the theatre. 
 
 April 28th. — Anthony Eobinson related an anecdote of Home 
 Tooke, showing the good-humor and composure of which he 
 was capable. Holcroft was with him at a third person's table. 
 They had a violent quarrel. At length Holcroft said, as he 
 
 rose to leave the room : " Mr. Tooke, I tell you, you are a 
 
 scoundrel, and I always thought you so." Tooke detained 
 him, and said : " Mr. Holcroft, some time ago you asked me to 
 come and dine with you ; do tell me what day it shall be." 
 Holcroft stayed. 
 
 May 7th, — In the afternoon a pleasant chat with Flaxman 
 alone. He spoke of artists and art wdth his unaffected modes- 
 ty and kindness. I asked him why the Germans, who appre- 
 ciated him, would not acknowledge the merit of our painters, 
 even Reynolds. " My art," Flaxman answ^ered, '' led me to 
 make use of classical fable, of which the Germans are fond. 
 Reynolds was only a gentlemanly scholar." Sir Joshua judged 
 ill of sculpture ; on that subject he wi'ote not so w^ell as 
 Rafael Mengs, of whom Flaxman spoke slightingly, just as I 
 recollect hearing Fernow at Jena speak. 
 
 May 9th. — Dined with Thelwall. A large party. The man 
 whom we went to see, and, if we could, admire, was Dr. Wol- 
 cott, better know^n as Peter Pindar. He talked about the art- 
 ists, said that West could paint neither ideal beauty nor from 
 nature, called Opie the Michael Angelo of old age, complained 
 of the ingratitude of certain artists who owed everything to 
 himself, spoke contemptuously of Walter Scott, who, he said, 
 ow^ed his popularity to hard names. He also declaimed against 
 rhyme in general, which he said was fit only for burlesque. 
 Not even Butler would live. At the same time he praised ex- 
 ceedingly the " Heroic Epistle to Sir W. Chambers." Con- 
 greve he considered the greatest miracle of genius, and that 
 such a man should early abandon literature was to him unac- 
 countable. As Peter Pindar was blind, I was requested to 
 help him to his wine, which was in a separate pint bottle, and 
 
I 
 
 t 
 
 1811.] DEBATING SOCIETY. 211 
 
 was not wine at all, but brandy.* After dinner he eulogized 
 brandy, calling it to ttclp, and said, **He who drinks it heartily 
 must make interest to die." 
 
 He said he had made a rhyme that morning, of which But- 
 ler might not have been ashamed : — 
 
 Say, would you long the shafts of death defy, 
 Pray keep your inside wet, your outside dry. 
 
 I referred to his own writings. He said he recollected them 
 with no pleasure. '' Satire is a bad trade." 
 
 Maj/ 15th. — A very pleasant call on Charles and Mary Lamb. 
 Read his version of the story of Prince Dorus, the long-nosed 
 king.t Gossiped about writing. Urged him to try his hand 
 at a metrical Umarheitung (working up) of "Reynard the 
 Fox." He believed, he said, in the excellence of the work, 
 but he was sure such a version as I suggested would not suc- 
 ceed now. The sense of humor, he maintained, is utterly ex- 
 tinct. No satire that is not personal will succeed. t 
 
 24-th. — Devoted the day to a speech to be delivered at the 
 Academical Society. § The question, " Which among the Arts 
 of Oratory, History, and Poetry is most capable of being ren- 
 dered serviceable to Mankind ] " I spoke for somewhat more 
 than an hour. 
 
 The three arts are alike liberal arts, since they are carried 
 on with knowledge and freedom, and not slavishly. They 
 constitute the great body of elegant learning, — Humanity. 
 
 Oratory is the art of persuasion as opposed to logic, — the 
 art of reasoning. It is mischievous by withdrawing attention 
 from the substance to the show, from the matter of discourse 
 to its ornaments. I. Deliberative or senatorial eloquence. 
 The evil of accustoming a people to the stimulus of eloquence. 
 This I illustrated by the French Revolution. For some years 
 the people were kept in a frenzy by the orators. The result 
 was not the acquirement of any habits favorable either to 
 knowledge or liberty. The mind was left as barren and as 
 unsusceptible of good influence as the earth from which the 
 salt sea has receded. In the English Senate, Burke was not 
 
 * In telling this story Mr. Robinson would humorously relate how, by pour- 
 ing some into a second glass, he contrived to ascertain the fact for himself 
 
 t This is not in his collected works, and, as well as two volumes of Poems 
 for Children, is likely to be lost. — H. C. R. 
 
 X An English version of " Reineke der Fuchs " was afterwards prepared by 
 Samuel Xaylor, Jun., and dedicated to his friend H. C. R. Published by 
 Longman, 1844. 
 
 § As Mr. Robinson was a frequent attendant and speaker at Debating 
 Societies, the notes of his speech on one of these occasions are given as a 
 specimen. 
 
212 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 listened to. Fox has left no memorial of any good he haa 
 wrought by eloquence ; his Libel Bill being the only good law 
 he ever introduced. Neither the Habeas Corpus Act, nor the 
 Bill of Bights, nor Magna Charta, originated in eloquence. A 
 senate of orators is a symptom of national decay. II. Judicial 
 eloquence. I expatiated on the glorious spectacle of an English 
 court of justice, and affirmed that its dignity would be lost if 
 the people went into it as into a theatre, to admire the graces 
 of the orators. But, in fact, there is little eloquence at pres- 
 ent at the English bar. Erskine the only prominent man in 
 our time. I contrasted the state of popular feeling in Greece 
 and Britain. I noticed the assertion of Demosthenes, that 
 action is the first, second, and third part of an orator, and the 
 fact that he was taught to speak by an actor. I admitted, 
 however, that eloquence might occasionally be useful (though 
 its resources were at the service alike of the tyrant and the 
 free man, the oppressor and the oppressed), but it is only a 
 sort of convulsive effect that can be produced. The storm 
 which drives from a populous city the pestilential vapor hang- 
 ing over it may accidentally save it for once from the plague ; 
 but it is the sun, which rises day by day, and the dew, which 
 falls night by night, that give fertility to the valleys, though 
 the silent operation of these causes does not so forcibly strike 
 the senses. 
 
 History, I observed, could instruct only by enabling us to 
 anticipate future events from the past. But this it cannot do. 
 The great events of political life are too unique to admit of a 
 parallel. The Crusades, Beformation, &c. The emancipation 
 of Switzerland, Holland, Portugal, Sweden, each took place 
 on grounds of its own ; and no inference could be drawn from 
 one to another. No Irishman, for mstance, wishing to deliver 
 his country from English rule, could draw an argument from 
 the success of any other rebellion. The great outline of his- 
 torical occurrences is beyond the sphere of human agency ; it 
 belongs to the economy of Divine Providence, and is illustrated 
 in the gradual civilization of mankind. All the rest is pure 
 uncertainty. Horace Walpole's historical doubts. Character 
 of the Queen of Scots. The death of Charles XII. of Swe- 
 ^len. 
 
 History may be thought to improve the affections. This is 
 so far from being true, that history shows the triumph of fraud, 
 violence, and guilt ; and if there were no resource elsewhere, 
 the mind, by mere history, would be driven to despair. 
 
1811.] NOTES OF A SPEECH. 213 
 
 [I omitted to show how little private persons can be im- 
 proved by that which treats merely of public events, and also 
 that statesmen have been guided by sagacity in the just 
 comprehension of the actual state of things, and that learned 
 men have seldom had any marked influence in public affairs.] 
 
 Poetry I described as having its origin in a principle of our 
 natiu-e, by which we are enabled to conceive of things as better 
 than any actually known. The mind is cheered by its own 
 images of excellence, and is thus enabled to bear up against 
 the evils of life. Besides, we are more instructed by poetic 
 than historic truth ; for the one is but a series of insignificant 
 accidents, while the other contains the essential truth of things. 
 Homer's Achilles is a fine picture of a warrior whose breast is 
 full of all the irascible, and yet all the aff"ectionate, feelings. 
 The baseness of a grovelling ambition of regal dominion is 
 better exemplified in Shakespeare's " Richard III.," the tre- 
 mendous consequence of yielding to the suggestions of evil in 
 *^ Macbeth," the necessity of having the sensible and reflective 
 qualities balanced by active energy in " Hamlet," the nature 
 of jealousy in " Othello," than in any mere historic narra- 
 tives. 
 
 What can the historian do ] He can give us plausible spec- 
 ulations. What the orator 1 Stir our feelings, but for a time 
 only. W^hereas the poet enriches our imaginations with image* 
 of every virtue. 
 
 I was followed by Twiss, Dumoulin, and Temple. At the 
 close of the discussion, the few persons who had remained held 
 up their hands, — five for history, and one each for poetry and 
 eloquence. 
 
 Mai/ 26th. — As Robert Hall was to preach in the Borough, I 
 went to hear him. The discourse was certainly a very beauti- 
 ful one. He began by a florid but eloquent and impressive 
 description of John the Baptist, and deduced from his history, 
 not with the severity of argument which a logician requires, 
 but with a facility of illustration which oratory delights in, 
 and which was perfectly allowable, the practical importance 
 of discharging the duty which belongs to our actual condition. 
 
 June 6th. — Met Coleridge at the Exhibition. He drew my 
 attention to the " vigorous impotence " of Fuseli, especially in 
 his " Macbeth." * "• The prominent witch," said Coleridge, 
 
 * No. 12 of the Royal Academy Catalogue, where it is entered " Macbeth 
 consulting the Vision of the Armed Head." — Shakespeare. Macbeth. Act 
 IV., Scene 1. 
 
214 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 " is smelling a stink." He spoke of painting as one of the 
 lost arts. 
 
 June 11th, — Called on Coleridge. He made some striking 
 observations on the character of an excellent man. " I have 
 long," he said, " considered him an abstraction, rather than a 
 person to be beloved. He is incapable of loving any excepting 
 those whom he has benefited. He has been so in the habit 
 of being useful, that he seems to lose his interest in those to 
 whom he can be of no further use." 
 
 Jmie IStJu — After tea a call on C. Lamb. His brother with 
 him. A chat on puns. Evanson, in his " Dissonance of the 
 
 Gospels," thinks Luke most worthy of credence. P said 
 
 that Evanson was a lukewdirm Christian. I related this to C. 
 Lamb. But, to him, a mere play of words was nothing with- 
 out a spice of the ridiculous. He was reading with a friend 
 a book of Eastern travels, and the friend observed of the 
 Mantschu Tartars, that they must be cannibals. This Lamb 
 thought better. The large room in the accountant's office at 
 the East India House is divided into boxes or compartments, 
 in each of which sit six clerks, Charles Lamb himself in one. 
 They are called Compounds. The meaning of the word was 
 asked one day, and Lamb said it was " a collection of simples." 
 
 June 16th. — Dined at Sergeant Rough's, and met the once 
 celebrated Mrs. Abington.* From her present appearance one 
 can hardly suppose she could ever have been otherwise than 
 plain. She herself laughed at her snub nose. But she is 
 erect, has a large blue expressive eye, and an agreeable voice. 
 She spoke of her retirement from the stage as occasioned by 
 the vexations of a theatrical life. She said she should have 
 gone mad if she had not quitted her profession. She has lost 
 all her professional feelings, and when she goes to the theatre 
 can laugh and cry like a child ; but the trouble is too great, 
 and she does not often go. It is so much a thing of course 
 that a retired actor should be a laudator temporis acti, that I 
 felt unwilling to draw from her any opinion of her successors. 
 Mrs. Siddons, however, she praised, though not with the 
 warmth of a genuine admirer. She said : " Early in life Mrs. 
 Siddons was anxious to succeed in comedy, and played Rosalind 
 before I retired." In speaking of the modern declamation, 
 and the too elaborate emphasis given to insignificant words, 
 
 * Mrs. Abington first appeared at the Haymarket as Miranda, in the " Busy 
 Body." Her last public appearance was Xpril 12, 1799. She died in her 
 house in Pall Mall, March, 1815. 
 
1811.] MR. AND MRS. FLAXMAN. 215 
 
 she said, "That was brought in by them" (the Kembles). 
 She spoke with admiration of the Covent Garden horses, and 
 I have no doubt that her praise was meant to have the effect 
 of satire. Of all the present actors, Murray most resembles 
 Garrick. She spoke of Barry with great warmth. He was a 
 nightingale. Such a voice was never heard. He confined himself 
 to characters of great tenderness and sweetness, such as Romeo. 
 She admitted the infinite superiority of Garrick in genius. His 
 excellence lay in the bursts and quick transitions of passion, 
 and in the variety and universality of his genius. Mrs. Abing- 
 ton would not have led me to suppose she had been on the 
 stage by either her manner or the substance of her conversa- 
 tion. She speaks with the ease of a person used to good so- 
 ciety, rather than with the assurance of one whose business it 
 was to imitate that ease. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Flaxman called in the evening. An argumen- 
 tative conversation, which is not Flaxman's forte. He is de- 
 lightful in the great purity of his moral sense, and the conse- 
 quent delicacy of his taste on all subjects of ethics : but his 
 understanding is not cast in a logical mould ; and when he 
 has a fixed idea, there is no possibility of changing it. He 
 said Linnseus had made a great blunder in classing the whale 
 with man, merely because it belongs to the mammalia. And 
 it was impossible to make him acknowledge, or apparently to 
 comprehend, the difference between an artificial and a natural 
 classification. As a proof that Hume wished to apologize for 
 Charles II., he quoted the sentence, " Charles was a polite 
 husband and a generous lover " ; and he did not perceive that 
 this was a mere statement of fact, and by no means implied a 
 wish to defend or vindicate. Hume could not have imagined 
 that politeness is the appropriate virtue of a husband, or that 
 the profusion of a king towards his mistresses is laudable. But 
 it is not necessary, even for the purposes of edification, to ring 
 the changes of moral censure. 
 
 June 18th. — Accompanied Mrs. Pattisson and her son Wil- 
 liam to Lawi'ence the painter. On entering the room, he fixed 
 his eyes on William with evident admiration, not noticing the 
 mother, who had been handsome. On my asking him whether 
 he could find time to paint the boy, he said in a half-whisper, 
 "To be sure, he must be painted." The picture was to in- 
 clude his brother Jacob. It was arranged that the two boys 
 should wait on Mr. Lawrence on Wednesday, the 26th inst. 
 
 I may here mention an occurrence which took place in 1809, 
 
216 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. U 
 
 while I was at AVitham on a visit to the Pattissons. There 
 was a grand jubilee to celebrate the termination of the fiftieth 
 year of the reign of George III. At morning prayers, William, 
 aged eight, said, " Mamma, ought I not to pray for the King]" 
 - — " To be sure, if you feel the desire." On which he folded 
 his hands, and said, '' God, grant that the King may con- 
 tinue to reign with justice and victory." The words were 
 scarcely out of his mouth, when Jacob, then six years and a 
 half, said " May n't I pray too '? " The mother could not re- 
 fuse. '^ God, be so good as to let the King live another 
 fifty years." 
 
 June 21st — A pleasant party at Collier's. Lamb in high 
 spirits. One pun from him at least successful. Punsters be- 
 ing abused, and the old joke repeated that he who puns will 
 pick a pocket, some one said, " Punsters themselves have 
 no pockets." — '* No," said Lamb, ^'they carry only a ridi- 
 cule.''^ 
 
 June 26th, — Went with the Pattissons to Lawrence's. He 
 consented to paint the two boys for 160 guineas. They had 
 their first sitting to-day. I took an opportunity of telling 
 him an anecdote respecting himself, which did not seem to 
 displease him, though eminent men are in many instances well 
 pleased to forget the day of little things. His father was the 
 master of the Bear Inn at Devizes, and he himself was for a 
 short time at Mr. Fenner's school. Some time between 1786 
 and 1789 a stranger, calling at Mr. Fenner's, remarked, ^' They 
 say, Mr. Fenner, that your old pupil. Tommy Lawrence, is 
 turning out a very pretty painter." 
 
 July 9th. — Evening at Lady Broughton's. W. Maltby, in oui 
 walk home, related an anecdote which he himself had from the 
 Bishop of Llandaff. The Bishop w^as standing in the House of 
 Lords, in company with Lords Thurlow and Loughborough, 
 when Lord Southampton accosted him \ " \ want your advice, 
 my Lord ; how am I to bring up my son so as to make him get 
 forwards in the world] " — '* I know of but one w^ay," replied 
 the Bishop ; " give him parts and poverty.'' — " Well, then," 
 replied Lord S., " if God has given him parts, I will manage 
 as to the poverty." 
 
 July 11th. — Called on Mrs. Barbauld, Mr. and Miss Bel- 
 sham, and Mr. and Mrs. Tooke, Sen. Tooke told a good story. 
 Lord Bolingbroke dined one day with Bishop Burnet. There 
 was a sumptuous entertainment, and Lord Bolingbroke asked 
 the Bishop whether the Apostles fared so well. " no, my 
 
1811.] COLERIDGE AND SOUTHEY. 217 
 
 lord." — " And how do jou account for the difference between 
 the clergy of the present day and those of the primitive 
 Church V^ — " It is so," replied Burnet, '' on all occasions ; we 
 always see that inventors and speculators are ruined, while 
 others reap the gain." But surely the repartee is applied to 
 the wrong person. Biu-net would not have so compromised 
 himself to Bolingbroke. 
 
 Juli/ 24th. — Late at C. Lamb's. Found a large party there. 
 Southey had been with Blake, and admired both his designs 
 and his poetic talents. At the same time he held him to be a 
 decided madman. Blake, he said, spoke of his visions with the 
 diffidence which is usual with such people, and did not seem 
 to expect that he should be believed. He showed Southey a 
 perfectly mad poem, called " Jerusalem." Oxford Street is in 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 Juli/ 26th. — At the Lyceum Theatre with Amyot. " The 
 Quadrupeds," otherwise the Tailors, revived under a new 
 name. The prelude represents a poor manager in distress. 
 He is assailed by a bailiff, and, leading him to a trap-door, 
 forces him down. Sheridan looked on, and clapped. The 
 burlesque scene between the master-tailor (Lovegrove) and his 
 wife (Miss Kelly), who is alarmed by a dream, was excellent. 
 
 July 28th. — After dinner walked to Morgan's, beyond Ken- 
 sington, to see Coleridge, and found Southey there. Coleridge, 
 talking of German poetry, repreaented Klopstock as compound- 
 ed of everything bad in Young, Harvey, and Richardson. He 
 praised warmly an essay on Hogarth by C. Lamb, and spoke 
 of xorongers of subjects as well as writers on them. He was in 
 spirits, and was apparently pleased with a letter I brought 
 him from Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 Coleridge and Southey spoke of Thelwall, calling him mere- 
 ly " John." Southey said : '^ He is a good-hearted man ; be- 
 sides, we ought never to forget that he was once as near as 
 possible being hanged, and there is some merit in that." 
 
 Enjoyed exceedingly my walk back with Southey. Speaking 
 of forms of government, he said, there is no doubt a republic 
 is the best form of government in itself, — as a sun-dial is in 
 itself the most certain and perfect instrument for ascertaining 
 the hour. And if the sun shone always, men would never 
 have been at the trouble of making clocks. But, as it is, 
 these instruments are in most frequent use. If mankind were 
 illuminated by the pure sun of reason, they would dispense 
 with complicated forms of government. He talked largely 
 
 VOL. I. 10 
 
 
218 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. U. 
 
 about Spain. A Jacobin revolution must purify the country 
 before any good can be done. Catholicism is absolutely in- 
 compatible with great improvements. In the Cortes, he says, 
 nine tenths of the members are bigoted papists, and one tenth 
 Jacobin atheists. Barcelona might have been purchased, had 
 our government been on the alert. Southey spoke highly of 
 Blanco White. 
 
 July 29th. — Read four books of '' Thalaba," and one book 
 of the " Castle of Indolence." Thomson's poem most delight- 
 ful. Surely, in the finish of such a work, there is a charm 
 which surpasses the effect produced by the fitful and irregular 
 beauties of a work like Southey 's. 
 
 August 3d. — Bathed for the first time in Peerless Pool, 
 originally perilous pool ; but it deserves neither title. In the 
 evening at Charles Lamb's. He w^as serious, and therefore very 
 interesting. I accidentally made use of the expression '' poor 
 Coleridge ! " Lamb corrected me, not angrily, but as if really 
 pained. " He is," he said, " a fine fellow, in spite of all his 
 faults and weaknesses. Call him Coleridge; I hate j9oor, as 
 applied to such a man. I can't bear to hear such a man 
 pitied." He then quoted an expression to the same effect by 
 (I think) Ben Jonson of Bacon. 
 
 Reminiscences,* — I frequently saw Coleridge about this 
 time, and was made privy to an incident which need no longer 
 be kept a secret. Coleridge was then a contributor to the 
 Courier^ and wrote an article on the Duke of York, which was 
 printed on Friday, the 5th of July. But the government got 
 scent of it, and therefore, by the interference of Mr. Arbuth- 
 not of the Treasury, after about 2,000 copies had been printed, 
 it was suppressed. This offended Coleridge, who would gladly 
 have transferred his services to the Times, I spoke about him 
 to Walter, but Fraser was then firmly established, and no oth- 
 er hand was required for the highest department. I have 
 found a paper in Coleridge's hand in reference to this affair. 
 It states what service he was willing to render, — such as at- 
 tending six hours a day, and writing so many articles per week. 
 One paragraph only has any significance, because it shows the 
 state of his mind : ** The above, always supposing the paper to 
 be tridy independent, first, of the Administration, secondly, of 
 Palace Yard, and that its fundamental principle is, the due 
 proportion of political power to property, joined with the re- 
 moval of all obstacles to the free circulation and transfer of 
 
 ♦ Written in 1849. 
 
1811.] 
 
 AT LAMB'S. — AT DR. AIKIN'S. 
 
 219 
 
 property, and all artificial facilitations of its natural tendency 
 to acciimnlate in large and growing masses." 
 
 August 8th. — At C. Lamb's. Coleridge there. A short but 
 interesting conversation on German metaphysics. He related 
 some curious anecdotes of his son Hartley, whom he repre- 
 sented as a most remarkable child. A deep thinker in his 
 infancy, — one who tormented himself in his attempts to solve 
 the problems which would equally torment the full-grown man, 
 if the world and its cares and its pleasm-es did not abstract his 
 attention. When about five years old, Hartley was asked a 
 question concerning himself by some one who called him 
 " Hartley." — " Which Hartley r' asked the boy. " Why, is 
 there more than one Hartley ] " — " Yes, there 's a deal of 
 Hartleys." — " How so ]" — ^' There 's Picture Hartley (Haz- 
 litt had painted a portrait of him), and Shadow Hartley, and 
 there 's Echo Hartley, and there 's Catch-me-fast Ha^ley," — 
 at the same time seizing his own arm with the other hand very 
 eagerly, an action which shows that his mind must have been 
 led to reflect on what Kant calls the great and inexplicable 
 mystery that man should be both his own subject and object, 
 and that these should yet be one. " At the same early age," 
 said Coleridge, " he used to be in an agony of thought about 
 the reality of existence. Some one said to him, ' It is not now, 
 but it is to be.' — ' But,' said he, ' if it is to be, it ^5.' Perhaps 
 this confusion of thought lay not merely in the imperfection 
 of language. Hartley, when a boy, had no pleasure in things ; 
 they made no impression on him till they had undergone a sort 
 of process in his mind, and become thoughts or feelings." With 
 a few abatements for fatherlv affection, I have no doubt Hart- 
 ley is a remarkable child. But of his subsequent progress 
 Coleridge said little. 
 
 August 17th, — Tea at Dr. Aikin's. Found the Dr., Miss 
 Aikin, &c., very agreeable. Indeed there has seemed to me 
 of late less to dislike in the political and religious opinions of 
 this circle than I thought formerly. A successful game of 
 chess with Miss Aikin, w^hich I proposed as a sort of ordeal to 
 test whether I was right in recommending " Benvenuto Cellini " 
 for its interest and beauty, or she in sending it home with dis- 
 gust. Early at home. Eead Scott's note on Fairies in the 
 " Minstrelsy." A shallow and unsatisfactory essay. The sub- 
 ject is so interesting, that nothing can be altogether unattrac- 
 tive that treats of it. A work at once critical and philosophi- 
 cal, on the popular superstitions of mankind in different ages, 
 
220 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 would be most curious. It would embrace a vast mass of im- 
 portant matter, closely connected with philosophy and religion. 
 Scott's collection, Vol. II., contains much that is valuable and 
 beautiful. " Tamlane " is one of the best poems. It has the 
 levity and grace of a genuine fairy fiction, and at the same time 
 there, is about it a tone of earnestness which suits a legend of 
 popular belief In " Thomas the Rhymer," the enigmatic lines 
 which speak of our national and distinctive character and glory 
 ought to become popular : — 
 
 " The waters worship shall his race; 
 
 Likewise the waves of the farthest sea; 
 For they shall ride over ocean wide 
 With hempen bridles, and horse of tree." 
 
 August 23d. — A run up to Lawrence's. He has made a 
 most delightful picture of William and Jacob Pattisson. The 
 heads only are finished. William's is a side-face, — very 
 beautiful, but certainly not more so than the original. Jacob 
 is a smiling, open-faced boy, with an admirably sweet expres- 
 sion. William has had justice done him. More was not to be 
 expected of any mortal colors. Jacob has had more than jus- 
 tice done him, but not in a way that can fairly be a matter of 
 reproach. If the artist has idealized somewhat, and given an 
 expression which is not on the boy's face every day, still, he has 
 not given a grace or a charm which lies not in his moral frame. 
 He has no more said in his picture the thing that is not, than 
 the magnifying glass, which never invents, or gives more or 
 other objects than there really are, but merely assists the 
 infirm optics of the beholder. William is painted without any 
 momentary expression, i. e. he does not appear, like Jacob, to 
 be under an immediate inspiring influence, which occasions an 
 arch smile not likely to be permanent even on the cheeks of 
 Robin Goodfellow himself * 
 
 October 15th. — Journey to London. Incledon the singer 
 was in the coach, and I found him just the man I should have 
 expected. Seven rings on his fingers, five seals on his watch- 
 ribbon, and a gold snufi'-box, at once betrayed the old beau. I 
 spoke in terms of rapture of Mrs. Siddons. He replied, '' Ah ! 
 Sally 's a fine creature. She has a charming place on the Edge- 
 ware Road. I dined with her last year, and she paid me one 
 of the finest compliments I ever received. I sang ' The Storm ' 
 
 * After a long interval the picture was finished, and exhibited at the Royal 
 Academy in 1817, No. 44 of the Catalogue, as " Portraits of the Sons of W. 
 Pattisson, Esq. Sir T. Lawrence, R. A." It was subsequently engraved by 
 John Bromley, in mezzotint, under the title of *' Rural Amusement." 
 
1811.] 
 
 ANECDOTE OF FOOTE. 
 
 221 
 
 after dinner. She cried and sobbed like a child. Taking both 
 of my hands, she said, ' All that I and my brother ever did is 
 nothing compared with the effect you produce ! ' " Incledon 
 spoke with warmth and apparent knowledge on church music, 
 praising Purcell especially, and mentioning Luther's simple 
 hymns. I was forced to confess that I had no ear for music, 
 and he, in order to try me, sang in a sort of song-whisper some 
 melodies which I certainly enjoyed, — more, I thought, than 
 anything I had heard from him on the stage. He related two 
 anecdotes that had no reference to himself Garrick had a 
 brother living in the country, who was an idolatrous admirer 
 of his genius. A rich neighbor, a grocer, being about to visit 
 London, this brother insisted on his taking a letter of introduc- 
 tion to the actor. Not being able to make up his mind to visit 
 the great man the first day, the grocer went to the play in the 
 evening, and saw Garrick in Abel Drugger. On his return to 
 the country, the brother eagerly inquired respecting the visit 
 he had been so anxious to bring about. " Why, Mr. Garrick," 
 said the good man, " I am sorry to hurt your feelings, but 
 there 's your letter. I did not choose to deliver it." — " Not 
 deliver it ! " exclaimed the other, in astonishment. — "I hap- 
 pened to see him when he did not know me, and I saw that he 
 was such a dirty, low-lived fellow, that I did not like to have 
 anything to do with him." Foote went to Ireland, and took 
 
 off F , the celebrated Dublin printer. F stood the 
 
 jest for some time, but found at last that Foote's imitations 
 became so popular, and drew such attention to himself, that he 
 could not walk the streets without being pointed at. He be- 
 thought himself of a remedy. Collecting a number of boys, he 
 gave them a hearty meal, and a shilling each for a place in the 
 gallery, and promised them another meal on the morrow if 
 they would hiss off the scoundrel who turned him into ridicule. 
 The injured man learnt from his friends that Foote was re 
 ceived that night better than ever. Nevertheless, in the 
 morning, the ragged troop of boys appeared to demand their 
 recompense, and w^hen the printer reproached them for their 
 treachery, their spokesman said, " Plase yer honor, we did all 
 we could, for the actor-man had heard of us, and did not come 
 at all at all. And so we had nobody to hiss. But when we 
 saw yer honor's own dear self come on, we did clap, indeed we 
 did, and showed you all the respect and honor in our power. 
 And so yer honor won't forget us because yer honor's enemy 
 was afraid to come, and left yer honor to yer own dear self." 
 
222 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 October 22d. — Called on Godwin. Curran, the Master of the 
 Rolls in Ireland, was with him. Curran told an anecdote of 
 an Irish Parliament-man who was boasting in the House of 
 Commons of his attachment to the trial by jury. " Mr. 
 Speaker, with the trial by jury I have lived, and, by the bless- 
 ing of God, with the trial by jury will I die ! " Curran sat 
 near him, and whispered audibly, " What, Jack, do you mean 
 to be hanged 1 " 
 
 November Jfih. — Hab.* told me that Clarkson had lately 
 been to see the Bishop of Norwich, Bathurst. He found him 
 very liberal indeed. He told Clarkson that one of his elerg}^- 
 men had written to him to complain that a Mr. Dewhurst had 
 opened a meeting in his parish and was preaching against him. 
 *' I wrote him word," said the Bishop, " that he must preach 
 against Mr. Dewhurst. I could not help him." 
 
 November 13th. — Fraser related a humorous story of his 
 meeting in a stage-coach with a little fellow who was not only 
 very smart and buckish in his dress, but also a pretender to 
 science and philosophy. He spoke of having been at Paris, 
 and of having read Helvetius, Voltaire, &c., and was very 
 fluent in his declamation on the origin of ideas, self-love, and 
 the other favorite doctrines of the new school. He said, " I 
 have no objection to confess myself a materialist.''^ On this 
 an old man, who had listened for a long time to the discourse, 
 and had more than once betrayed symptoms of dissatisfaction 
 and scorn towards the philosopher, could not contain himself 
 any longer. " D it, that 's too bad ! You have the im- 
 pudence to say you are a materialist, when I know you are a 
 dancing-master,^^ The voluble orator was dumfoundered, and 
 Fraser could not restrain the most violent laughter, which 
 mortally offended the cutter of capers. " It is too bad," mut- 
 tered the old man, who did not comprehend the cause of 
 Fraser's merriment, — "it is too bad for a man to say he is of 
 one trade when he is of another." 
 
 December 5th. — Accompanied Mrs. Ru.tt to Coleridge's lec- 
 ture.f In this he surpassed himself in the art of talking in a 
 
 * H. C. R.'s brother, Habakkuk. 
 
 t This course of lectures was delivered at the room of the London Philo 
 sophical Society, Scots Corporation Hall, Crane Court, Fleet Street. The first 
 lecture was delivered on the 18th of November. IMr. Robinson attended the 
 greater part of the course, but, through absence from London, was not present 
 at the whole. The subject announced was : " Shakespeare and Milton, in 
 Illustration of the Principles of Poetry, and their Application as Grounds of 
 Criticism to the most Popular Works of later Endish Poets, those of the Living 
 included." Of these lectures, fifteen in number. Mr. J. P. Collier took notes 
 
1811.] COLERIDGE'S LECTURES. 223 
 
 very interesting way, without speaking at all on the subject 
 announced. According to advertisement, he was to lecture on 
 *^ Romeo and Juliet," and Shakespeare's female characters. 
 Instead of this he began with a defence of school-flogging, in 
 preference at least to Lancaster's mode of punishing, without 
 pretending to find the least connection between that topic and 
 poetry. Afterwards he remarked on the character of the age of 
 Elizabeth and James I., as compared with that of Charles I. ; 
 distinguished not very clearly between wit and fancy ; referred 
 to the different languages of Europe ; attacked the fashionable 
 notion concerning poetic diction ; ridiculed the tautology of 
 Johnson's line, " If observation, with extensive view," &c. ; 
 and warmly defended Shakespeare against the charge of im- 
 purity. While Coleridge was commenting on Lancaster's mode 
 of punishing boys, Lamb whispered : " It is a pity he did not 
 leave this till he got to ' Henry VI.,' for then he might say 
 he could not help taking part against the Lancastrians." After- 
 wards, when Coleridge was running from topic to topic. Lamb 
 said : '' This is not much amiss. He promised a lecture on the 
 Nurse in ' Romeo and Juliet,' and in its place he has given 
 us one in the manner of the Nurse." 
 
 Mrs. Clarkson to H. C. R. 
 
 December 5, 1811. 
 
 Do give me some account of Coleridge. I guess you drew 
 up the account in the Times of the first lecture. I do hope 
 he will have steadiness to go on with the lectures to the 
 end. It would be so great a point gained, if he could but 
 
 pursue one object without interruption I remember a 
 
 beautiful expression of Patty Smith's, after describing a visit 
 at Mr. Wilberforce's. " To know him," she said, ^' all he is, 
 and to see him with such lively childish spirits, one need not 
 say, ' God bless him ! ' — he seems already in the fulness of 
 every earthly gift." .... Of all men, there seems most need 
 to say, " God bless poor Coleridge ! " One could almost be- 
 lieve that an enchanter's spell was upon him, forcing him to 
 be what he is, and yet leaving him the power of showing what 
 he might be. 
 
 • • • • . 
 
 in short-hand, but the notes of all exceptmg the first, second, sixth, seventli^ 
 eighth, ninth, and twelfth were lost. Those notes which were preserved were 
 published in 1856: " Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton. Bv the late 
 S. T. Coleridge." By J. P. Collier, Esq. 
 
224 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 December 9th, — Accompanied Mrs. Rough to Coleridge's 
 seventh and incomparably best lecture. He declaimed with 
 great eloquence about love, without wandering from his sub- 
 ject, " Eomeo and Juliet." He was spirited, methodical, and, 
 for the greater part, intelligible, though profound. Drew up 
 for the Morning Chronicle a hasty report, which was inserted. 
 
 10th. — Miss Lamb dined with us. In the evening Charles 
 Lamb, Manning, and Mrs. Fenwick. A pleasant evening. 
 Lamb spoke well about Shakespeare. I had objected to Cole- 
 ridge's assertion, that Shakespeare, as it were, identified him- 
 self with everything except the vicious ; and I observed that 
 if Shakespeare's becoming a character is to be determined by 
 the truth and vivacity of his delineation, he had become some 
 of the vicious characters as well as the virtuous. Lamb justi- 
 fied Coleridge's remark, by saying that Shakespeare never gives 
 characters wholly odious and detestable. I adduced the King 
 in " Hamlet " as altogether mean ; and he allowed this to be 
 the worst of Shakespeare's characters. He has not another like 
 it. I cited Lady Macbeth. '' I think this one of Shakespeare's 
 worst characters," said Lamb. *^ It is also inconsistent with 
 itself. Her sleep-walking does not suit so hardened a being." 
 It occurs to me, however, that this very sleep-walking is, per- 
 haps, the vindication of Shakespeare's portraiture of the char- 
 acter, as thereby the honor of human nature, if I may use the 
 expression, is saved. The voluntary actions and sentiments of 
 Lady Macbeth are all inhuman, but her involuntary nature rises 
 up against her habitual feelings, which sprang out of depraved 
 passions. Hence, though while awake she is a monster, she 
 is a woman in her sleep. I then referred to the Bastard in 
 *' Lear," but Lamb considered his character as the result of 
 provocation on account of his illegitimacy. Lamb mentioned 
 lago and Richard III. as admirable illustrations of the skill 
 with which Shakespeare could make his worst characters inter- 
 esting. I noticed King John and Lewis, as if Shakespeare 
 meant, like a Jacobin, to show how base kings are. Lamb did 
 not remark on this, but said, " ' King John ' is one of the plays 
 I like least." He praised " Richard 11." 
 
 December 11th, — In the evening with Lamb at tea. An 
 hour's call on Parkin. I was sorry to find that he was hurt by 
 my mode of replying to him last Friday at the Academical 
 Society. He thought that, though I spoke of him in words 
 very handsomely, there was yet in my manner something which 
 implied a want of moral esteem, I believe I satisfied him of 
 
1811.] COLERIDGE'S LECTURES. 225 
 
 his mistake ; but I know my easily besetting sin, of uncon- 
 sciously assuming an offensive tone on such occasions, and I 
 will, if possible, be on my guard that my manner may not 
 give pain when what I say is substantially innocent. Parkin 
 mentioned that, in a letter to the editor of the Eclectic Review, 
 Coleridge had declared his adherence to the principles of Bull 
 and Waterland. There are, I know, some persons who deem 
 Coleridge hardly sincere ; I believe him to be only inconsistent. 
 I certainly am altogether unable to reconcile his metaphysical 
 and empirico-religious opinions. 
 
 December 12th. — Tea with Mrs. Flaxman, who accompanied 
 me to Coleridge's lecture. He unhappily relapsed into his 
 desultory habit, and delivered, I think, his w^orst lecture. He 
 began with identifying religion with love, delivered a rhapsody 
 on brotherly and sisterly love, which seduced him ijato a dis- 
 sertation on incest. I at last lost all power of attending to 
 him. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, November 29, 1811. 
 
 My dear Friend, — Of course you have already heard of 
 the lectures on poetry which Coleridge is now delivering, and 
 I fear have begun to think me inattentive in not sending you 
 some account of them. Yesterday he delivered the fourth, and 
 1 could not before form anything like an opinion of the proba- 
 ble result. Indeed, it is hardly otherwise now with me, but 
 were I to wait till I could form a judgment, the very subject 
 itself might escape from observation. He has about one hun- 
 dred and fifty hearers on an average. The lectures have been 
 brilliant, that is, in passages ; but I doubt much his capacity 
 to render them popular. Or rather, I should say, I doubt any 
 man's power to render a system of philosophy popular which 
 supposes so much unusual attention and rare faculties of think- 
 ing even in the hearer. The majority of w^hat are called sen- 
 sible and thinking men have, to borrow a phrase from Cole- 
 ridge, " the passion of clear ideas " ; and as all poets have a 
 very opposite passion, — that of warm feelings and delight in 
 musing over conceptions and imaghiings beyond the reach of 
 the analytic faculty, — no wonder there is a sort of natural 
 hostility between these classes of minds. This will ever be a 
 bar to Coleridge's extensive popularity. Besides which, he has 
 certain unfortunate habits, which he will not (perhaps cannot) 
 correct, verv detrimental to his interests, — I mean the vices 
 10* 
 
226 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 of apologizing, anticipating, and repeating. We have had 
 four lectures, and are still in the Prolegomena to the Shake- 
 spearian drama. When we are to begin Milton, I have no idea. 
 With all these defects, there will always be a small circle who 
 will listen wdth delight to his eloquent effusions (for that is the 
 appropriate expression). I have not missed a lecture, and have 
 each time left the room with the satisfaction which the heark- 
 ening to the display of truth in a beautiful form always gives. 
 I have a German friend w^ho attends also, and who is delighted 
 to find the logic and the rhetoric of his country delivered in a 
 foreign language. There is no doubt that Coleridge's mind is 
 much more German than English. My friend has pointed out 
 striking analogies between Coleridge and German authors whom 
 
 Coleridge has never seen 
 
 <^ 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, December 13, 1811. 
 My dear Friend : — 
 
 .... Yesterday I should have been able to send you a far 
 more pleasant letter than I can possibly furnish you with now ; 
 for I should then have had to speak of one of the most grati- 
 fying and delightful exertions of Coleridge's mind on Monday 
 last ; and now I am both pained and provoked by as unworthy 
 a sequel to his preceding lecture. And you know it is a law of 
 our nature, 
 
 " As high as we have mounted in delight, 
 In om' dejection do we sink as low." 
 
 You have so beautifully and exactly expressed the senti- 
 ment that every considerate and kind observer of your friend 
 must entertain, that it is quite needless to give you any ac- 
 count of his lectures with a view to direct any judgment you 
 might wish to form, or any feeling you might be disposed to 
 encourage. You will, I am sure, anticipate the way in which 
 he will execute his lectures. As evidences of splendid talent, 
 original thought, and rare powers of expression and fancy, they 
 are all his admirers can wish ; but as a discharge of his under- 
 taking, a fulfilment of his promise to the public, they give his 
 friends great uneasiness. As you express it, ^'an enchanter's 
 spell seems to be upon him," which takes from him the power 
 of treating upon the only subject his hearers are anxious he 
 should consider, while it leaves him infinite ability to riot and 
 run wild on a variety of moral and religious themes. In his 
 sixth lecture he was, by advertisement, to speak of " Romeo 
 
1811.] COLERIDGE'S LECTURES. 227 
 
 and Juliet "and Shakespeare's females ; unhappily, some de- 
 mon whispered the name of Lancaster in his ear : and we had, 
 in one evening, an attack on the poor Quaker, a defence of 
 boarding-school flogging, a parallel between the ages of Eliza- 
 beth and Charles, a defence of what is untruly called unpoetic 
 language, an account of the different languages of Europe, and 
 a vindication of Shakespeare against the imputation of gTOSS- 
 ness III I suspect he did discover that oiFence was taken at 
 this, for his succeeding lectm-e on Monday was all we could 
 w^ish. He confined himself to '' Romeo and Juliet " for a time, 
 treated of the inferior characters, and delivered a most elo- 
 quent discourse on love, w4th a promise to point out how 
 Shakespeare had shown the same truths in the persons of the 
 lovers. Yesterdav w^e were to have a continuation of the 
 theme. Alas ! Coleridge began with a parallel between re- 
 ligion and love, which, though one of his favorite themes, he 
 did not mai.age successfully. E,omeo and Juliet were forgot- 
 ten. And in the next lecture we are really to hear something 
 of these lovers. Now this will be the fourth time that his hear- 
 ers have been invited expressly to hear of this play. There 
 are to be only fifteen lectures altogether (half have been de- 
 livered), and the course is to include Shakespeare and Mil- 
 ton, the modern poets, &c. ! ! ! Instead of a lecture on a 
 definite subject, we have an immethodical rhapsody, very de- 
 lightful to you and me, and only offensive from the certainty 
 that it may and ought to offend those who come with other 
 expectations. Yet, with all this, I cannot but be charmed 
 with these splendida vitia, and my chief displeasure is oc- 
 casioned by my being forced to hear the strictures of persons 
 infinitely below Coleridge, without any power of refuting or 
 contradicting them. Yet it is lucky he has hitherto omitted 
 no lecture. Living with the Morgans, they force him to come 
 with them to the lecture-room, and this is a great point 
 gained 
 
 December 15th. — Called on Godwin, who thinks Coleridge's 
 lectures far below his conversation. So far from aoTceing: with 
 Coleridge; that Shakespeare's plays ought only to be read and 
 not acted, Godwin said : " No plays but Shakespeare's deserve 
 to be represented, so admirably fitted are his for performance." 
 
 16th. — Took Miss Flaxman to Coleridge's lectiu-e. Very 
 desultory again at first, but when about half-way through, he 
 bethought himself of Shakespeare ; and though he forgot at 
 
228 RExMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14 
 
 last what we had been four times in succession to hear, viz. 
 of Romeo and Juliet as lovers, yet he treated beautifully of the 
 " Tempest," and especially Prospero, Miranda, Ariel, and Cali- 
 ban. This part most excellent. 
 
 Chrutmas day (at Royston). — A very agreeable tete-h-tete 
 walk with Mr. Nash, Sen., round his farm. I enjoyed his so- 
 ciety with more relish, probably, than I ever shall again. 
 He is getting old, though, excepting in the decline of his mem- 
 ory, there are no traces yet of bodily infirmity. Sometimes, 
 however, the effects of old age throw a tender grace over men 
 of his amiable and excellent character. In his youth he was a 
 Methodist, and he was industrious, patient, abstinent, capable 
 of continuous labor, mental and bodily. His education was 
 not of a superior kind, but he had the advantage of great per- 
 sonal beauty, as well as ability in business. He was brought 
 up to the law, and had offers of a partnership in London ; but 
 these he declined, because he saw practices of which his con- 
 science disapproved. Marrying early, he settled down as a 
 country practitioner. In religious opinions he became a Uni- 
 tarian, and Robert Robinson * was the object of his admira- 
 tion. Bis single publication, in which he called himself " A 
 Country Attorney," was one of the hundred and one answers 
 to Burke on the French Revolution. His life was prosperous, 
 and alike honorable to himself and, within his limited sphere, 
 useful to others. The latter days of a good man are not a mel- 
 ancholy object, even when one thinks that his moral and intel- 
 lectual qualities might have been more advantageously em- 
 ployed in a wider field. This alone renders departing excellence 
 a subject of melancholy observation. f 
 
 December 28th. — A gossip with E. till late. He related a 
 curious Quaker anecdote, which suggests a law question. One 
 friend, a merchant, proposes to another, an underwriter, to in- 
 sure his ship, lost or not lost, which ought soon to arrive. 
 The underwriter hesitates, takes the policy home, and says, 
 *' I will return it to-morrow, signed or unsigned." Early in the 
 morning the merchant receives intelligence of the loss of his 
 vessel. He knows his religious brother, and sends a clerk 
 (who is ignorant of the loss) to say, " Neighbor A. informs 
 
 * An eminent Dissenting Minister of Cambridge. Born 1735. Died 1790. 
 His immediate successor was tlie Rev. Robert Hall. 
 
 Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Robert Robinson were written by 
 George Dyer. This biography was pronounced by Wordsworth to be one or 
 the best in the English language. See also p. 101. 
 
 t See ante, pp. 23, 188. 
 
1^11.] DETERMINATION TO STUDY FOR THE BAR. 229 
 
 thee that if thou hast not underwritten, thou needest not do 
 it." The undenvriter draws the inference that the vessel is 
 safe. He has not actually signed, but, pretending to look for 
 the policy, contrives to sign it by stealth, and says to the 
 clerk, " Tell thy master I had signed." E. assui^ed me that 
 this was a real occurrence. 
 
 December 30th. — Attended Coleridge's lecture, in which he 
 kept to his subject. He intimated to me his intention to de- 
 liver two lectures on Milton. As he had written to me about 
 his dilemma, having so much to do in so little time, I gently 
 hinted in my reply at his frequent digressions, — those splen- 
 dida peccata which his friends best apologized for by laying 
 the emphasis on the adjective. 
 
 December 31st — In the evening at a very pleasant party at 
 Flaxman's. A Mrs. Wilkinson there with her son, a most 
 interesting young man, with one of those expressive counte- 
 nances which imply intellect and heart alike. Flaxman ad- 
 mires him much, and says he would prefer him as a son to 
 all the young men he ever saw. 
 
 Rem,'^ — Closed the year most agreeably, in the act, I be- 
 lieve, of repeating to Mr. Flaxman Charles Lamb's prologue 
 to " Mr. H." The society I beheld at the dawn of the New 
 Year consisted of people possessing as high moral and intel- 
 lectual excellences combined as are to be found in this great 
 city. 
 
 I had now made up my mind to study for the bar. This 
 resolution was formed through an apparently insignificant oc- 
 currence. It was on the 1st of March, when my sister (who. 
 with my brother had been on a visit to London) was about to 
 I leave, that Mr. Collier received an application from York to 
 
 send down a reporter for the State Trials there. He requested 
 me to go, but I declined on the ground of the objection taken 
 to reporters being called to the bar. Speaking of this to my 
 sister, t she said : " For a man who has the repute of having 
 sense, you act very like a fool. You decline reporting because 
 that might be an obstacle to your being called to the bar, and 
 I \ yet you take no steps towards being called to the bar. Now, 
 
 i do one or the other. Either take to newspaper employment, 
 
 I or study the law at once, and lose no more time." There was 
 
 If no reply to such a remonstrance. On the Sunday following, I 
 
 went to Amyot to consult with him. There was then visiting 
 him a Norwich attorney, Mr. Adam Taylor, who strongly ad- 
 
 * Written in 1849. f Mrs. Thomas Robinson. - 
 
230 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 vised me to go the bar, adding, " There is an opening on the 
 Norfolk circuit. I am sure you would succeed. You shall 
 have such business as I have, and as I can obtain." It was 
 this that more than anything determined me. My old ac- 
 quaintance, Walter Wright, my new acquaintance, Sergeant 
 Eough, and my friend Anthony Robinson,* all supported me 
 in the resolution ; but perhaps they all feel as Benvenuto Cel- 
 lini felt on a similar occasion : " Have you, my lord, really 
 bought the picture, or do you only think of buying it 1 " — 
 " What has that to do with your opinion, Cellini ] " — "A 
 great deal. If you have really bought the picture, then I have 
 only to make such remarks as will render you satisfied with 
 your bargain ; but if you are only thinking of buying it, then 
 it is my duty to tell you my real opinion." 
 
 H. C. R. TO HIS Brother. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, 14th March, 1811. 
 
 Dear Thomas, — I have at length (after hesitating only 
 from twelve to thirteen years) made up my mind to abandon 
 all my hobby -horsical and vain, idle, and empty literary pur- 
 suits, and devote myself to the law. It is now ten days since 
 I have given words and form to this determination, which an 
 accident after all has occasioned me to make. My sister, per- 
 haps, told you of a proposal Mr. Collier made me, that I should 
 go to York to transact a business which certainly would not 
 agree with the professional character. But my sister did not 
 tell you, because she was not herself aware of the fact, that it 
 was a simple sentence which dropped from her, which made me 
 sensible (more strongly than I had ever been before) of the ex- 
 treme folly of my conduct. As we were walking down to the 
 Inn on Saturday morning she said : " There is something very 
 inconsistent in your behavior. You refuse a profitable job, 
 
 * Anthony Robhisoii (bom in 1762) was originally brought up in connection 
 with the Established Church; but, changing his opinions, was educated at 
 Bristol for the Dissenting ministry. Robert Hall was one of his fellow-students. 
 He did not long remain in the ministry, but entered into business as a sugar- 
 refiner, in which he continued till his death. Though, however, he professed 
 to be merely a tradesman, he yet retained a lively interest in social and religious 
 questions, and was a steady and active supporter of civil and religious liberty. 
 He published several pamphlets and articles in reviews. Among the foiTner 
 was an able examination of Robert Hall's celebrated " Sermon on Modem 
 Infidelity." H. C. R. said of himr " As I scarcely ever knew Anthony Robin- 
 son's equal in colloquial eloquence, in acuteness and skill, and promptitude in 
 debate, so I never knew his superior in candor and sincerity." Between H. C. R. 
 and his friend there was no relationship, though they have the same surname. 
 
1811.] "AMATONDA." 231 
 
 because it is incompatible with the character of a barrister, 
 and yet you cannot be made to open a law-book. Now, you 
 ought to do one or the other. Make up your mind at least." 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 In the spring, and just before I was induced seriously to 
 prepare for being called to the bar, I. translated " Amatonda," 
 a fairy tale by Anton Wall.* I have already given some ac- 
 count of the work itself f My translation was published by 
 Longman, but I believe fell dead from the press. None but 
 friends ever praised it. I have a letter of praise from Cole- 
 ridge. And Lamb at least liked the translations from Jean 
 Paul (at the end), which were, I believe, the first translations 
 from Jean Paul into English. He said they were the finest 
 things he ever saw from the German language. The book, so 
 far as I know, was never reviewed, and I obtained no credit 
 for my work. Perhaps haj^pily, for it was the failure of my 
 attempt to gain distinction by writing that made me willing to 
 devote myself honestly to the law, and so saved me from the 
 mortification that follows a little literary success, by which 
 many men of inferior faculties, like myself, have been be- 
 trayed into an unwise adoption of literature as a profession, 
 which after this year I never once thought of. 
 
 Coleridge to H. C. E. 
 
 I have to thank you, my dear Robinson, for the pleasure I 
 have enjoyed in the perusal of Anton Wall's delightful tale. I 
 read it first with my eyes only, and only to myself; but the 
 second time aloud to two amiable women. Both times I felt 
 myself in the embrace of the fairy Amatonda. The German 
 critic has noticed as a defect and an oversight what I regard as 
 one of the capital beauties of the work, and thus convinced 
 me that for reviewers the world over, and for readers whose 
 intellects are commensurate with theirs, an author must write 
 
 under his best conceptions I recollect no fairy tale with 
 
 so just and fine a moral as this of Anton Wall's. Virtue 
 itself, though joined with outAvard competence, cannot give 
 that happiness which contents the human heart, without love ; 
 
 * "Amatonda." A Tale from the Germnii of Anton Wall. London: 
 Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown. 1811. 
 t See ante^ pp. 104, 105. 
 
232 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. U. 
 
 but love is impossible without virtue, — love, true human love, 
 — i. e. two hearts, like two correspondent concave mirrors 
 having a common focus, while each reflects and magnifies the 
 other, and in the other itself is an endless reduplication by 
 sweet thoughts and sympathies. 
 
 Hassan's love for Amina is beautifully described as having 
 had a foundation from early childhood. And this I many 
 years ago planned as the subject-matter of a poem, viz. long 
 and deep affections suddenly, in one moment, flash-transmuted 
 Into love. In short, I believe that love (as distinguished both 
 from lust and that habitual attachment which may include 
 many objects diversifying itself by degrees only), that thdX feel- 
 ing (or whatever it may be more aptly called), that specific 
 mode of being, w^hich one object only can possess, and possess 
 totally, is always the abrupt creation of a moment, though 
 years of dawning may have preceded. I said dawning, for often 
 as I have watched the sun rising from the thinning, diluting 
 blue to the whitening, to the fawn-colored, the pink, the crim- 
 son, the glory, yet still the sun itself has always started up 
 out of the horizon ! Between the brightest hues of the dawn- 
 ing, and the first rim of the sun itself, there is a chasm, — all 
 before were differences of degrees, passing and dissolving into 
 each other, — but this is a difference of kind, — a chasm of 
 kind in a continuity of time ; and as no man who had never 
 w^atched for the rise of the sun could understand what I mean, 
 so can no man who has not been in love understand w^hat love 
 is, though he will be sure to imagine and believe that he does. 
 
 Thus, is by nature incapable of being in love, though 
 
 no man more tenderly attached ; hence he ridicules the exist- 
 ence of any other passion than a compound of lust with 
 esteem and friendship, confined to one object, first by accidents 
 of association, and permanently by the force of habit and a 
 sense of duty. Now this w411 do very w^ell, — it will suffice to 
 make a good husband ; it may be even desirable (if the largest 
 sum of easy and pleasurable sensations in this life be the right 
 aim and end of human wisdom) that we should have this, and 
 no more, — but still it is not love, — and there is such a passion 
 as love, — w^hich is no more a compound than oxygen, though 
 like oxygen it has an almost universal affinity, and a long and 
 finely graduated scale of elective attractions. It combines 
 with lust, — but how '? Does lust call forth or occasion love % 
 Just as much as the reek of the marsh calls up the sun. The 
 
1811.] 
 
 LETTER FROM COLERIDGE. 
 
 233 
 
 sun calls up the vapor, — attenuates, lifts it, — it becomes a 
 cloud, — and now it is the veil of the divinity ; the divinity, 
 transpiercing it at once, hides and declares his presence. We 
 see, we are conscious of li(/kt alone ; but it is light embodied 
 in the earthly nature, which that light itself awoke and subli- 
 mated. What is the body but the fixture of the mind, — the 
 stereotype impression 1 Arbitrary are the symbols, — yet sym- 
 bols they are. Is terror in my soul 1 — my heart beats against 
 my side. ' Is grief? — tears pour in my eyes. In her homely 
 way, the body tries to interpret all the movements of the soul. 
 Shall it not, then, imitate and symbolize that divinest move- 
 ment of a finite spirit, — the yearning to complete itself by 
 union 1 Is there not a sex in souls 1 We have all eyes, cheeks, 
 lips, — but in a lovely woman are not the eyes womanly, — 
 yea, every form, in every motion of her whole frame, womanly ? 
 Were there not an identity in the substance, man and woman 
 might join, but they could never unify ; were there not 
 throughout, in body and in soul, a corresponding and adapted 
 difference, there might be addition, but there could be no com- 
 bination. 1 and 1 = 2; but 1 cannot be multiplied into 1 : 
 1X1 = 1- ^t best, it would be an idle echo, the same 
 thing needlessly repeated, as the idiot told the clock, — one, 
 one, one, one, &c. 
 
 It has just come into my head that this scrawl is very 
 much in the style of Jean Paul. I have not, however, as yet 
 looked into the books you were so kind as to leave with me, 
 further than to see the title-page. If you do not want them 
 for some time, I should be glad to keep them by me, while I 
 read the original works themselves. I pray you procure them 
 for me week by week, and I will promise you most carefully to 
 return them, you allowing me three days for two volumes. I 
 am very anxious to have them, and shall fill one volume of the 
 " Omniana " with the extracts, quoting your criticism as my 
 introduction : only, instead of the shelves or steps, I must put 
 the ladder of a library, or whatever name those movable 
 steps are called which one meets with in all well-furnished 
 libraries. 
 
 I have been extremely unwell, though rather better. George 
 Burnet's * death told too abruptly, and, in truth, exaggerated, 
 
 * George Burnet was a very early friend of Coleridge; he joined with him, 
 Southey, and Lovell in the scheme for emigrating to America, and there 
 forming a colony, to be called a Pantisocracy, the main principle of which was 
 a community of goods, and where selfishness was to be proscribed. 
 
234 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 overset my dear, most dear, and most excellent friend and 
 heart's sister, Mary Lamb, — and her illness has almost over- 
 set me. Troubles, God knows ! have thronged upon me, — 
 alas ! alas ! all my dearest friends I have of late either 
 suffered from^ or suffered for, 'T is a cruel sort of world we 
 live in. God bless you 
 
 And yours, with affectionate esteem, 
 
 S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 Southampton Buildings. 
 P. S. I began with the scrap of paper, meaning only to write 
 half a score lines, and now I have written enough for half a 
 dozen letters * unnecessarily, when to have written to half a 
 dozen claimants is a moral (would it were a physical) necessity. 
 But moral obligation is to me so very strong a stimulant, that 
 in nine cases out of ten it acts as a narcotic. The blow that 
 should rouse stuns me. 
 
 [Though Mr. Robinson was never married, some of his 
 friends occasionally volunteered their advice to him on the 
 subject of matrimony. A letter containing such advice belongs \ 
 
 to this year, and may be inserted here. — Ed.] 
 
 Capel Lofft to H. C. R. 
 
 October 3, 1811. 
 
 Dear Sir, — Perhaps one man ought never to advise an- 
 other, unasked ; especially when that other is probably better 
 able to advise himself I do, however, advise you, if ever you 
 marry, never (as a man of feeling, and w^ho loves literature, and 
 liberty, and science) to marry a woman of what is called a 
 strong mind. The love of dominion and the whirlwind of 
 instability are, I fear, inseparable from a female mind of that 
 character. All women and all beings love power ; but a woman 
 of a mild and compliant mind seeks and maintains power by 
 correspondent means. These are not called strong minds. No 
 matter, if they are mild, and modest, and delicate, and sympa- 
 thizing minds, such as the Julie of Rousseau, the Alcestis of 
 Em-ipides, the Antigone of Sophocles, and the Eve of Milton. 
 Hence every woman should be a lover of music, — and of femi- 
 nine music ; and particularly of the vocal. And in that she 
 should cultivate the soft, the low, and the sweet. ^' Her voice 
 
 * The beginning of the letter is on a scrap, after filling which the writer 
 took a sheet of foolscap. 
 
1812.] LETTER TO MRS. CLARKSON. 235 
 
 was ever low, gentle, and sweet ; an excellent thing in woman," 
 says that great depicter of character, and particularly of wo- 
 men, who has so exquisitely imagined and delineated Miranda, 
 Viola, Ophelia, Desdemona, Cordelia, Helena. 
 
 I am. 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 Capel Lofft. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 1812. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, 3d January, 1812. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, — I received your letter last night, 
 and will write the answer immediately, though I cannot 
 forward it till I have seen your brother for your address. I have 
 a better, much better, account to give of Coleridge's lectures than 
 formerly. His last three lectures have, for the greater part, been 
 all that his friends could wish, — his admirers expect. Your 
 sister heard the two last, and from her you will learn much 
 more than I could put into a letter, had I all the leisure I now 
 want, or the memory I never had. His disquisitions on the 
 characters of Richard III., lago, FalstafF, were full of paradox, 
 but very ingenious, and in the main true. His remarks on 
 Richard II. and Hamlet very excellent. Last night he con- 
 cluded his fine development of the Prince of Denmark by an 
 eloquent statement of the moral of the play. '' Action," he 
 said, " is the great end of all ; no intellect, however grand, is 
 valuable, if it draw us from action and lead us to think and 
 think till the time of action is passed by, and we can do noth- 
 ing." Somebody said to me, ^' This is a satire on himself." — 
 " No," said I, " it is an elegy." A great many of his remarks 
 on Hamlet were capable of a like application. I should add 
 that he means to deliver several lectures beyond the promised 
 number. This will gain him credit in the City sense of the 
 word ; and for the sake of his future success in lecturing, I am 
 very glad he is thus prudent. 
 
 You see I am looking at the subject from a very low point 
 of view ; at the same time I am able to place myself on higher 
 ground, and then I lament equally with the Wordsworth s and 
 
236 REMINISCENCKS OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 yourself that such a man should be compelled to have recourse 
 to such means ; but, after all, what is there in this lamentation 
 more than a particular instance of the general complaint of all 
 ages, that highmindedness should stoop to vulgarity, that the 
 low wants of man should drag down the elevated to low pur- 
 suits, and that the noblest powers of intellect should not be ac- 
 companied with meaner but indispensable capacities']* 
 
 January 8th, — Called on Mrs. B., who was in much better 
 spirits than I expected to find her. She spoke of her father 
 with much tenderness and love, but without violent emotion. 
 I referred to my own mother, and the treasure her memory is 
 to me. Thinking of her and talking of her are a great delight, 
 and I said I knew it w^ould be so also with Mrs. B. The joy is 
 gi'eat of having had an excellent parent. This she admitted, and 
 seemed to feel, as if I had touched the true key. 
 
 January 9th. — Evening at Coleridge's lecture on Johnson's 
 ** Preface." Though sometimes obscure, his many palpable hits 
 must have given general satisfaction. 
 
 January IStK — Accompanied Mrs. C. xiikin to Coleridge's 
 lectm-e. A continuation of remarks on Johnson's " Prefa 
 but feeble and unmeaning compared w4th the last. The la 
 part of the lecture very excellent. It was on '^ Lear," in wh . 
 he vindicated the melancholy catastrophe, and on "Othello," 
 in which he expressed the opinion that Othello is not a jealous 
 character. 
 
 January IJfth. — Heard Hazlitt's first lecture on the " His- 
 tory of English Philosophy." f He seems to have no concep- 
 tion of the difference between a lecture and a book. What he 
 said was sensible and excellent, but he delivered himself in a ' 
 low monotonous voice, with his eyes fixed on his MS., not once 
 daring to look at his audience ; and he read so rapidly that no 
 one could possibly give to the matter the attention it required. % 
 
 * Coleridge was sadly annoyed at the necessity of appealing to the kindness 
 of friends. He repeated to me an epigram, of which I recollect only the point; 
 " I fell asleep, and fancied I was smTounded by my friends, who made me 
 marvellous fine promises. I awoke and found these promises as much a dream 
 as if they had actually been made." — H. C. R. 
 
 t These lectures were delivered at the Russell Institution. 
 
 j Hazlitt had in vain striven to become a painter. He had obtained the 
 patronage of Clarkson, who said he had heard Hazlitt was more able to paint 
 like Titian than any living painter. Some one had said that his portrait of 
 Lamb had a Titianesque air about it. And certainly this is the only paintii:*; 
 by Hazlitt I ever saw with pleasure. He made a portrait of my brother, which 
 he knew to be bad, and it was destroyed. — H. C R. 
 
1812.] HAZLITT AND COLERIDGE. 237 
 
 January 15th. — Tea with the Lambs. An evening at 
 cards. HazHtt there, much depressed. He seemed disposed 
 to give up the lectures altogether. The cause of his read- 
 ing so rapidly was, that he was told to limit himself to an 
 hour, and what he had prepared would have taken three hours 
 if it had been read slowly. 
 
 January 16th. — At Coleridge's lecture. He reviewed John- 
 son's " Preface," and vindicated warmly Milton's moral and 
 political character, but I think with less than his usual ability. 
 He excited a hiss once by calling Johnson a fellow, for which 
 he happily apologized by observing that it is in the nature 
 of evil to beget evil, and that we are thus apt to fall into the 
 fault we censure. He remarked on Milton's minor poems, and 
 the nature of blank verse. The latter half of the lecture was 
 very good. 
 
 January 17th. — Dinner at J. Buck's.* Mr. and Mrs. Buck, 
 Coleridge, the Gores, Jameson, and Aders.f Coleridge was 
 less profound than usual, but exceedingh^ agreeable. He re- 
 lated anecdotes of himself. Once he was arrested as a spy at 
 Fort^ St. George. The Governor, as soon as he saw him, 
 r^.:-' ;^^ered, "An ill-looking fellow. " At first everything that Cole- 
 ' ' ! could say for himself was ingeniously perverted and ap- 
 
 ^ y aojainst him ; but at leno-th a card he accident all v had by 
 iiiL, from a person of quality, convinced the Governor that he 
 ' ^as a gentleman, and procured for him an invitation to break- 
 fast next morning. Coleridge then took an opportunity of 
 asking the Governor what it was in his appearance that in- 
 duced him to say, " An ill-looking fellow." " My dear sir," said 
 the Governor, squeezing him by the hand, " I nearly lost my 
 light in the West Indies, and cannot see a yard before me." 
 At Bristol, Coleridge delivered lectures in conjunction with 
 I Southey. A fellow who was present hissed him, and an alter- 
 cation ensued. The man sneered at him for professing public 
 I principle, and asked, '^ Why, if you have so much public spirit, 
 1 1 do you take money at the door ^ " — '^ For a reason," answered 
 11 Coleridge, "which I am soiTy in the present instance has not 
 been quite successful, — to keep out blackguards." In reference 
 to the schools of Lancaster and Bell, — a delicate subject in 
 such a society, — Coleridge contented himself with urging that 
 it is unsafe to leave religion untaught while anything is taught. 
 
 * See ante, p. 19. 
 
 t Jameson and Aders were for some time in partnership as merchants. Mr. 
 Aders had a valuable collection of pictures, which are frequently referred tc 
 in the diary, and which were eventually sold by auction. 
 
238 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 Reading and writing must not be supposed to be in themselves 
 education. 
 
 At ten went to Barron Field's.* Charles Lamb and Leigh 
 Hunt there. I found they had had a discussion about Cole- 
 ridge, whom Hunt had spoken of as a bad writer, while Lamb 
 thought him the first man he ever knew. Lamb, in his droll 
 and extravagant way, abused every one who denied the tran- 
 scendent merits of Coleridge's writings. 
 
 January 20th, — A day of some importance, perhaps, in its 
 consequences. Sergeant Rough introduced me to Mr. Little- 
 dale, t whose pupil I became by presenting him with the usual 
 fee of 100 guineas, and by entering at once on my employment. 
 
 In the evening at Coleridge's lecture. Conclusion of Milton. 
 Not one of the happiest of Coleridge's efforts. Rogers was 
 there, and with him was Lord Byron. He was wrapped up, 
 but I recognized his club foot, and, indeed, his countenance 
 and general appearance. 
 
 January 21st. — Hazlitt's second lecture. His delivery 
 vastly improved, and I hope he will now get on. He read at 
 Basil Montagu's last night half his first lecture. He was to 
 read the whole, but abruptly broke off, and could not be per- 
 suaded to read the remainder. Lamb and other friends were 
 there. 
 
 February 21st. — In the evening at the Academical Society. 
 Mr. Sheil spoke, who was blackballed lately after a violent 
 and pompous speech. His present speech was sensible and 
 temperate. Blake, his countryman, watched over him to keep 
 him in order. He spoke as if he had been fed for three weeks 
 on bread and water in order to be tamed. 
 
 Rem.t — He was blackballed again on a later occasion. 
 What alone makes this worth mentioning is that he who was 
 twice rejected by an insignificant society of young men is now 
 one of the most popular and admired speakers in the House of 
 Commons, the Right Honorable Richard Lalor Sheil. 
 
 February 26th, — A dinner-party. Coleridge, Godwin, &c., 
 &c. The company rather too numerous. Coleridge by no 
 means the eloquent man he usually is. It was not till ten 
 minutes before he went away that he fell into a declaiming 
 mood ; " having," as Godwin said, " got upon the indefinites 
 and the infinites," viz. the nature of religious conviction. He 
 
 * Afterwards a Judge in New South Wales, and subsequently at Gibraltar. 
 Some of Lanib's most amusing letters were written to him. 
 t Afterwards Judge of the Queen's Bench. 
 X Written in 1849. 
 
1812.] COLERIDGE'S CONCLUDING LECTURE. 239 
 
 contended that the external evidence of Christianity would be 
 weak but for the internal evidence arising out of the necessity 
 of our nature, — our want of religion. He made use of one 
 very happy allusion. Speaking of the mingling of subordinate 
 evils with great good, he said, '' Though the serpent does twine 
 himself round the staff of the god of healing." * 
 
 H. C. E. TO Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 Gray's lNN,t 28th January, 1812. 
 You will be interested to hear how Coleridge's lectures 
 closed : they ended with eclat. The room was crowded, and 
 the lecture had several passages more than brilliant, — they 
 were luminous, and the light gave conscious pleasure to every 
 person who knew that he could both see the glory and the ob- 
 jects around it at once, while (you know) mere splendor, like 
 the patent lamps, presents a flame that only puts out the eyes. 
 Coleridge's explanation of the character of Satan, and his vin- 
 dication of Milton against the charge of falling below his 
 subject, where he introduces the Supreme Being, and his 
 illustration of the difference between poetic and abstract truth, 
 and of the diversity in identity between the philosopher and the 
 poet, were equally wise and beautiful. He concluded with a 
 few strokes of satire ; but I cannot forgive him for selecting 
 alone (except an attack on Pope's " Homer," qualified by in- 
 sincere eulogy) Mrs. Barbauld. She is a living writer, a woman, 
 and a person who, however discordant with himself in charac- 
 ter and taste, has still always shown him civilities and atten- 
 tions. It was surely ungenerous. .... 
 
 February 27th, — Coleridge's concluding lecture. A dinner 
 at John Thel wall's. The American poet Northmore there ; 
 also the Rev. W. Frend ; X George Dyer, § whose gentle man- 
 
 * Godwin and Rough met at this party for the first time. The very next 
 day Godwin called on me to say how much he liked Rough, adding: " By the 
 by, do you think he would lend me £ 50 just now, as I am in want of a little 
 money ? " He had not left me an hour before Rough came with a like ques- 
 tion. He wanted a bill discounted, and asked whether I thought Godwin 
 would do it for him. The habit of both was so well known that some persons 
 were afraid to invite them, lest it should lead to an application for a loan from 
 some friend who chanced to be present. — H. C. R. • 
 
 t Mr. Littledale's chambers were in Gray's Inn. 
 
 X The eminent mathematician, and former Fellow and Tutor of Jesus Col- 
 lege, Cambridge. For a pamphlet published by him in 1793, and containing 
 expressions of dislike to the doctrines and (liscipline of the Established 
 Church, he was, after a trial of eight days by the University authorities, sen- 
 tenced to banishment from the University, His fellowship he retained till his 
 marriage. 
 
 § See aTiie, pp. 39. 40. 
 
240 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 ners were a contrast to the slovenliness of his dress ; North- 
 cote the painter ; and a very interesting man named Nicholson^ 
 who has raised himself out of the lowest condition, though not 
 out of poverty, by literary and scientific labors. What he has 
 written (not printed) would fill three hundred moderate-sized 
 volumes. For an introduction to Natural Philosophy he re- 
 ceived £ 150. He has the air of a robust man, both in body 
 and in mind. 
 
 March 10th, — Mrs. Collier and I went to Covent Garden 
 Theatre. " Julius Csesar." We were forced to stand all the 
 time. Young as Cassius surpassed Kemble as Brutus. Indeed 
 the whole performance of the latter was cold, stiff, and pedan- 
 tic. In the quarrel scene only, his fine figure gave him an 
 advantage over Young. He was once warmly applauded ; but, 
 on the whole, Young seemed to be the favorite, and where he 
 instigated Brutus to concur in the plot, he drew down peals 
 of applause. The two orations from the rostrum produced 
 no effect whatever. The architectural scenery was very 
 grand. 
 
 March 15th. — A pleasant walk to Hampstead. Had much 
 conversation with Hamond. Some years ago he called on 
 Jeremy Bentham without any introduction, merely to obtain 
 the acquaintance of the great man. Bentham at first declined 
 to receive him, but on seeing Hamond's card altered his mind, 
 and an intimacy arose. Bentham himself, when a young man, 
 was so enthusiastic an admirer of Helvetius, that he actually 
 thought of offering himself as a servant to him. " You," said 
 he to Hamond, in reference to his desire, "took a better way." 
 When Hamond told me this, I did not confess that, sixteen 
 years ago, the idea of doing a similar thing floated before my 
 own mind ; but I was pleased to find that the same extrava- 
 gancy of sentiment had affected so superior a man as Ben- 
 tham. 
 
 March 16th. — Flaxman's lecture. The short characteristics 
 of the most famous pieces of sculpture of antiquity very inter- 
 esting. There was not in this, any more than in preceding lec- 
 tures I have heard from him, great power of discrimination, or 
 much of what in a lower sense is called understanding, though 
 Flaxman's beautiful sense and refined taste are far superior to 
 any understanding the mere critic can possess. The artist 
 needs a different and higher quality, — Kunstsinn (feeling for 
 art), and that Flaxman possesses in a greater degree than any 
 other man I know. Returned to Charles Lamb, with whom 
 
1812.] ATTIC CHEST SOCIETY. 241 
 
 were Barron Field, Leigh Hunt, and Barnes.* The latter, with 
 a somewhat feist appearance, has a good countenance, and is a 
 man who, I dare say, will make his way in the world. He has 
 talents and activity, and inducements to activity. He has ob- 
 tained high honors at Cambridge, and is now a candidate for a 
 fellowship. He reports for Walter. Charles Lamb was at his 
 best, — very good-humored, but at the same time solid. I 
 never heard him talk to greater advantage. He wrote last 
 week in the Examiner some capital lines, " The Triumph of 
 the Whale," f and this occasioned the conversation to take 
 more of a political tiu-n than is usual with Lamb. Leigh 
 Hunt is an enthusiast, very well intentioned, and I believe 
 prepared for the worst. He said, pleasantly enough: '' No one 
 can accuse me of not writing a libel. Everything is a libel, as 
 the law is now declared, and our security lies only in their 
 shame." He talked on the theatre, and showed on such points 
 great superiority over the others. 
 
 March 18th. — Evening at Porden's, the Society of the Attic 
 Chest. This is a small society, the members of which send 
 verses, which are put into a box, and afford an evening's 
 amusement at certain intervals. The box was actually made at 
 Athens. Some verses, I suspect by Miss Flaxman, on music, 
 pleased me best. The company was numerous, — the Rogets,t 
 Phillips § the painter, and his wife. Old General Franklin, 
 
 * For a long time editor of the Timts. 
 
 t H. C. R. says that in Galignani this poem was incorrectly ascribed to 
 Lord Byron. A few lines will serve as a specimen of the kind of wit it con- 
 tains : — 
 
 . . . . " Next declare, 
 Muse, who his companions are. 
 Every fish of generous kind 
 Scuds aside, or slinks behind. 
 
 For his solace and relief, 
 Flat-fish are his courtiers chief. 
 Last and lowest in his train, 
 Ink-fish, libellers of the main, 
 Their black venom, shed in spite; 
 Such on earth the things that write* 
 
 In his stomach, some do say, 
 
 No good thing can ever stay. 
 
 Had it been the fortune of it 
 
 To have swallowed that old prophet, 
 
 Three days there he 'd not have dwelled, 
 
 But in one had been expelled." 
 
 } Dr. Roget was the author of Animal and Vegetable Physiology," one of 
 the Bridge water Treatises, published in 1834. 
 § Afterwards R. A., and father of the recent R A. of that name. 
 
 VOL. I. 11 F 
 
242 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16: 
 
 son of the celebrated Benjamin, was of the party. He is 
 eighty-four years of age. has a courtier-Hke mien, and must 
 have been a very fine man. He is now very animated and in- 
 teresting, but does not at all answer to the idea one would 
 naturally form of the son of the great Franklin. 
 
 Rem,* ' — At these meetings Ellen Porden was generally the 
 reader, and she was herself a writer of poetry. She even ven- 
 tured to write an epic poem, called " Richard the Second." 
 When she presented a copy to Flaxman, who loved her for her 
 :;miable qualities (and more than amiable, for she was a good 
 domestic character, an excellent sister and daughter), he 
 thanked her and said : "Why, Ellen, my love, you 've written 
 a poem longer than Homer." She married Captain, afterwards 
 Sir John Franklin. The marriage took place with an express 
 consent on her part to his making a second voyage of discov- 
 ery towards the North Pole, if the government should give its 
 permission. Before he went a daughter was born ; but her 
 own health had become so bad that her life was despaired of. 
 I was one of the few friends invited to the last dinner at his 
 house before his departure. Flaxman was of the party, and 
 deeply depressed in spirits. Captain F. took an opportunity 
 in the course of the evening to say to me : " My wife will be 
 left alone with the infant. You will do me a great favor, if 
 you will call on her as often as your engagements permit." I 
 promised. In a few days I went to the Quarter Sessions, and 
 before I returned Mrs. Franklin was dead. 
 
 March 2Sd. — With Lawrence, who showed me a painting 
 of Kemble as Cato, in the last scene, about to inflict on him- 
 self the nohile letum. It is a very strong likeness, as well as a 
 very beautiful picture.! 
 
 March 26th. — Dined with Messrs. Longman and Co. at one 
 of their literary parties. These parties were famous in their 
 day. Longman himself is a quiet gentlemanly man. There 
 were present Dr. Abraham Rees,t a very good-humored, agree- 
 able companion, who would in no respect disgrace a mitre ; 
 " Russia " Tooke, as he was called ; Sharon Turner,§ a chatty 
 man, and pleasant in his talk ; Abemethy, who did not say a 
 word ; and Dr. Holland, || the Iceland traveller. The only one 
 
 * Written in 1849. 
 
 t This picture was exhibited the same year at Somerset House, No. 57 o^ 
 the Royal Academy Catalogue. 
 
 X His brother was a partner in Longman's house. 
 
 § The historian. 
 
 \ Afterwards^ Sir Henry Holland, the Court Physician. 
 
1812.] A CALL ON THE AIKINS. 243 
 
 who said an}i:hing worth reporting was Dr. Rees, the well-known 
 Arian, ^' Encyclopsedic Rees." He related that when, in 1788, 
 Beaufoy made his famous attempt to obtain the repeal of the 
 Corporation and Test Act, a deputation waited on the Lord 
 Chancellor Thurlow to obtain his support. The deputies were 
 Drs. Kippis, Palmer (of Hackney), and Rees. The Chancellor 
 heard them very civilly, and then said : *' Gentlemen, I 'm 
 against you, by G — . I am for the Established Church, 
 d-mme ! Not that I have any more regard for the Estab- 
 lished Church than for any other church, but because it is es- 
 tablished. And if you can get your d d religion established, 
 
 I '11 be for that too ! " Rees told this story with great glee. 
 
 April 12th, — A call on the Aikins. The whole family full 
 of their praises of Charles Lamb. The Doctor termed him a 
 brilliant writer. The union of so much eloquence with so 
 much wit shows gi'eat powers of mind. Miss Aikin was not 
 less warm in her praise. She asked why he did not write 
 more. I mentioned, as one cause, the bad character given 
 him by the reviewers. She exclaimed against the reviewers. 
 I then spoke of the Annual Revieiv (Arthur Aikin, the editor, 
 was present), as having hurt him much by its notice of *' John 
 Woodvil."* She exclaimed, " that Tommy ; that such a fel- 
 low should criticise such a man as Lamb." I then mentioned 
 that some persons had attributed the article to Mrs. Barbauld. 
 I was impressed with the sincerity and liberality of the Aikins, 
 in acknowledging a merit so unlike their own. They evinced a 
 universality of taste which I had not supposed them to possess. 
 
 April 13th. — Met a Mr. Anderson, a north-country divine, 
 a hard-headed, shrewd man, of blunt manners, who ought to 
 have been chaplain to the Parliamentary army at the com- 
 mencement of the civil wars in the time of Charles I. He is 
 a laudator temporis prcesentis, rather than acti. He laughed 
 heartily at old Jameson's advertisement, that persons taking 
 apartments in his house " might be accommodated with family 
 prayer." 
 
 April 20th, — Called on the Godwins, f They very much 
 admire Miss Flaxman's designs for '^ Robin Goodfellow " ; but 
 do not think they would sell. Parents are now so set against 
 all stories of ghosts, that fifty copies of such designs would 
 not be sold in a year. 
 
 * Lamb's Works, 1855, Vol. IV. p. 299. 
 
 t Godwin was at this time largely engaged in publishing books for children. 
 He published Lamb's "Tales from Shakespeare," and Sliss Lamb's "Mrs 
 Leicester's School." 
 
244 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 April 21st — Accompanied Cargill * to Covent Garden. 
 Mrs. Siddons in Mrs. Beverley. Her voice appeared to have 
 lost its brilliancy (like a beautiful face through a veil) ; in 
 other respects, however, her acting is as good as ever. Her 
 '' that my eyes were basilisks ! " was her great moment in 
 the play. Her smile was enchantingly beautiful ; and her 
 transitions of countenance had all the ease and freedom of 
 youth. If she persist in not playing Mrs. Beverley again, 
 that character will, I am confident, never be played with 
 anything like equal attractions. And without some great 
 attraction in the performers, such a play ought not to be rep- 
 resented. It is a dull sermon ; the interest kept up by com- 
 monplace incidents, and persons who are absolutely no char- 
 acters at all. Young did not look the part of Beverley well. 
 As Amyot says, he is a bad waistcoat-and-breeches actor. 
 
 April 27th. — At Hazlitt's last lecture. Very well deliv- 
 ered, and full of shrewd observation. At the close, he re- 
 marked on the utility of metaphysics. He quoted and half 
 assented to Hume's sceptical remark, that perhaps they are 
 not worth the study, but that there are persons who can find 
 no better mode of amusing themselves. He then related an 
 Indian legend of a Brahmin, who was so devoted to abstract 
 meditation, that in the pursuit of philosophy he quite forgot 
 his moral duties, and neglected ablution. For this he was 
 degraded from the rank of humanity, and transformed into 
 a monkey. But, even when a monkey, he retained his origi- 
 nal propensities, for he kept apart from other monkeys, and 
 had no other delight than that of eating cocoanuts and study- 
 ing metaphysics. " I, too," said Hazlitt, " should be very 
 well contented to pass my life like this monkey, did I but 
 know how to provide myself with a substitute for cocoanuts." 
 
 May 3d, — Left a card at Sir George Beaumont's for Words- 
 worth. On my return a call on Coleridge. He said that from 
 Fichte and Schelling he has not gained any one great idea. 
 To Kant his obligations are infinite, not so much from what 
 Kant has taught him in the form of doctrine, as from the 
 discipline gained in studying the great German philosopher. 
 Coleridge is indignant at the low estimation in which the post- 
 Kantianers affect to hold their master. 
 
 Eem,'\ — May 5tli. — This day I saw at the exhibition a 
 
 * A native of Jamaica, and a pupil of Thelwall. He studied the law under 
 Sergeant Rough, by H. C. R.'s advice, but afterwards became a clergyman. 
 t Written in 1849. 
 
Ibl2.] TALK WITH WORDSWORTH. 245 
 
 picture by Turner, the impression of which still remains. It 
 seemed to me the most marvellous landscape I had ever seen, 
 — Hannibal crossing the Alps in a storm. I can never forget 
 it.* 
 
 May 6th. — R. says Johnson, the bookseller, made at least 
 £ 10,000 by Cowper's poems. The circumstances show the 
 hazard of bookselling speculations. Cowper's first volume of 
 poems was published by Johnson, and fell dead from the press. 
 Author and publisher were to incur equal loss. Cowper begged 
 Johnson to forgive him his debt, and this was done. In return, 
 Cowper sent Johnson his " Task," saying : " You behaved gene- 
 rously to me on a former occasion ; if you think it safe to pub- 
 lish this new work, I make you a present of it." Johnson pub- 
 lished it. It became popular. The former volume was then 
 sold with it. When Cowper's friends proposed his translating 
 ** Homer," Johnson said : " I owe Cowper much for his last book, 
 and will therefore assist in the publication of ' Homer ' without 
 any compensation. The work shall be published by subscrip- 
 tion. I will take all the trouble and risk, and Cowper shall 
 have all the profit." Johnson soon had occasion to inform the 
 poet that a thousand pounds were at his disposal. 
 
 May 8th, — A visit from Wordsworth, who stayed with me 
 from between twelve and one till past three. I then w^alked 
 with him to Newman Street. His conversation was long and 
 interesting. He spoke of his own poems with the just feeling 
 of confidence which a sense of his own excellence gives him. 
 He is now convinced that he never can derive emolument from 
 them ; but, being independent, he willingly gives up all idea of 
 doing so. He is persuaded that if men are to become better and 
 wiser, the poems will sooner or later make their way. But if 
 we are to perish, and society is not to advance in civilization, 
 " it would be," said he, " wretched selfishness to deplore the 
 want of any personal reputation." The approbation he has 
 met with from some superior persons compensates for the loss 
 of popularity, though no man has completely understood him, 
 not excepting Coleridge, who is not happy enough to enter into 
 his feelings. " I am myself," said Wordsworth, " one of the 
 happiest of men ; and no man who does not partake of that 
 happiness, who lives a life of constant bustle, and whose feli- 
 city depends on the opinions of others, can possibly comprehend 
 
 * The picture is now in the National Gallery, Turner Collection. It was 
 No. 258 of the Somerset House Catalogue, and*^ entitled "Snow-Stomi: Han- 
 nibal and his Army crossing the Alps. — J. M. W. Turner, R. A." 
 
246 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 the best of my poems." I urged an excuse for those who can 
 really enjoy the better pieces, and who yet are offended by a 
 language they have by early instruction been taught to con- 
 sider unpoetical ; and Wordsworth seemed to tolerate this 
 class, and to allow that his admirers should undergo a sort of 
 education to his works. 
 
 May 11th. — Called at Coleridge's, where I found the Lambs. 
 I had just heard of the assassination of Mr. Perceval, which had 
 taken place about an hour and a half before. The news shocked 
 Coleridge exceedingly, and he was at once ready to connect 
 the murder with political fanaticism, Burdett's speeches, &c. 
 Charles Lamb was apparently affected, but could not help 
 mingling humor with his real concern at the event.* 
 
 Spent the evening at Miss Benger s.f Miss Jane Porter % 
 there. Her stately figure and graceful manners made an im- 
 pression on me. Few ladies have been so gifted with personal 
 attractions, and at the same time been so respectable as authors. 
 
 May ISth. — Wordsw^orth accompanied me to Charles Ai- 
 kin's. § Mrs. Barbauld, the Aikins, Miss Jane Porter, Mont- 
 gomery the poet, Roscoe, II son of the Liverpool Roscoe, &c. 
 The most agreeable circumstance of the evening was the hom- 
 age involuntarily paid to the poet. Everybody was anxious to 
 get near him. One lady was ludicrously fidgety till she was 
 within hearing. A political dispute rather disturbed us for a 
 time. Wordsw^orth, speaking of the late assassination, and of 
 Sir Francis Burdett's speech ten days ago, said that probably 
 the murderer heard that speech, and that this, operating on 
 his mind in its diseased and inflamed state, might he the de- 
 termining motive to his act. This was taken up as a reflection 
 on Sir Francis Biu-dett, and resented warmly by young Eoscoe, 
 who maintained that the speech w^as a constitutional one, and 
 
 * About this time there was an attack on Charles Lamb in the Quarterly Re- 
 view^ in an article on Weber's edition of " Ford's Works." Lamb was called a 
 " poor maniac." It was this attack which occasioned and justified Lamb's 
 sonnet, " St. Crispin to Mr. Gifford," a happy jeu d' esprit. That Charles 
 Lamb had, for ever so short a time, been in confinement was not known to me 
 till the recent disclosure in Talfourd's " Final Memorials." — H. C. R. 
 
 t Miss Benger obtained considerable literary celebrity as a writer of histor- 
 ical biographies. She was much esteemed in the circle of friends to which she 
 was introduced on first coming to London. Among those friends were ]\lrs. 
 Barbauld, ]\Tiss Aikin, Mrs. Joanna Baillie, Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton, Dr. 
 Aikin, and Dr. Gregory. 
 
 X The authoress of '^' Thaddeus of Warsaw," and other popular novels. 
 
 § !Mr. Charles Aikin was then in practice as a medical man in Broad Street, 
 City. 
 
 if Probably William Stanley Roscoe. 
 
f 181 
 
 1812.] WALK WITH WORDSWORTH. 247 
 
 asked what the starving were to do ? ** Not murder people," 
 said Wordsworth, " unless they mean to eat their hearts." * 
 
 MaT/ 15th. — A call on Flaxman in the evening. He spoke 
 of Turner's landscape with great admiration, as the best paint- 
 ing in the Exhibition. He praised parts of Hilton's '' Christ 
 Healing the Blind," especially the hands of the principal fig- 
 ures, and the contrasted expression of the one expecting the 
 operation of the miracle, and the one on whom it has already 
 taken place. Miss Flaxman pointed out Allingham's " Grief 
 and Pity," and a landscape, " Sadac Seeking the Waters of 
 Oblivion." 
 
 May 19th, — Went to Covent Garden Theatre. Mrs. Siddons 
 played Queen Catherine to perfection, and Kemble as Wolsey, 
 in the scene of his disgi^ace, was greatly applauded. I think I 
 never saw Mrs. Siddons's pantomime in higher excellence. The 
 dying scene was represented with such truthfulness, as almost 
 to go beyond the bounds of beautiful imitation, viz. by shifting 
 her pillow with the restlessness of a person in pain, and the sus- 
 pended breath in moving, which usually denotes suffering. It 
 was, however, a most delightful performance. 
 
 In an earlier part of the day heard part of Coleridge's first 
 lecture in Willis's Rooms.f As I was present only about a 
 quarter of an hour, I could not enter much into his subject. 
 I perceived that he was in a digressing mood. He spoke of 
 religion, the spirit of chivalry, the Gothic reverence for the 
 female sex, and a classification of poetry into the ancient and 
 the romantic. 
 
 May 23± — Coleridge's second lecture. A beautiful disser- 
 tation on the Greek drama. His analysis of the trilogy of 
 iEschylus, the " Agamemnon," &c. was interesting ; and his 
 account of the " Prometheus," and his remarks on the ^'An- 
 tigone," were more connected than when I heard him speak on 
 the same subjects on a former occasion. 
 
 May 2Jf.th, — A very interesting day. At half past ten 
 joined Wordsworth in Oxford Eoad ; we then got into the 
 fields, and walked to Hampstead. I read to him a number of 
 Blake's poems, with some of which he was pleased. He regard- 
 
 * In a note to Mr. Robinson, dated two days after this visit Wordsworth 
 Bays: " I have never been well since I met you/city politicians; yet I am con- 
 tent to pay this price for the knowledge of so pleasing a person as Mrs. Charles 
 Aikin, being quite an enthusiast when I find a woman whose countenance and 
 manners are what a woman's ought to be." 
 
 t A course on Shakespeare, with introductory matter cm poetry, the drama, 
 and the stage. 
 
248 KEMINISCEISCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 ed Blake as having in him the elements of poetry much more 
 than either Byron or Scott. We met Miss Joanna Baillie, 
 and accompanied her home. She is small in figure, and her gait - 
 
 is mean and shuffling, but her manners are those of a well-bred i 
 
 woman. She has none of the unpleasant airs too common to 
 literary ladies. Her conversation is sensible. She possesses 
 apparently considerable information, is prompt without being 
 forward, and has a fixed judgment of her own, without any 
 disposition to force it on others. Wordsworth said of her with 
 warmth : " If I had to present any one to a foreigner as a model 
 of an English gentlewoman, it would be Joanna Baillie." 
 
 May 26th. — Walked to the Old Bailey to see D. I. Eaton 
 in the pillory.* As I expected, his punishment of shame was 
 his glory. The mob was not numerous, but decidedly friendly 
 to him. His having published Paine's '' Age of Reason " was 
 not an intelligible offence to them. I heard such exclama- 
 tions as the following : " Pillory a man for publishing a book, 
 — shame ! " — "I wish old Sir Wicary was there, my pockets 
 should not be empty." — " Religious liberty ! "— *^ Liberty of 
 conscience ! " Some avowed their willingness to stand in the 
 pillory for a dollar. " This a punishment % this is no dis- 
 grace ! " As his position changed, and fresh partisans were 
 blessed by a sight of his round, grinning face, shouts of " Bra- 
 vo ! " arose from a new quarter. His trial was sold on the 
 spot. The whole affair w^as an additional proof of the folly of 
 the Ministers, who ought to have known that such an exhibi- 
 tion would be a triumph to the cause they meant to render 
 infamous. 
 
 Heard Coleridge's third lecture. It was wholly on the 
 Greek drama, though he had promised that he would to-day 
 proceed to the modern drama. The lecture itself excellent 
 and very German. 
 
 May 27th, — Went to Miss Benger's in the evening, where 
 I found a large party. Had some conversation with Miss Por- 
 ter. She won upon me greatly. I was introduced to a char- 
 acter, — Miss Wesley, a niece of the celebrated John, and 
 daughter of Samuel Wesley. She is said to be a devout and 
 most actively benevolent woman. Eccentric in her habits, but 
 most estimable in all the great points of character. A very 
 
 * Daniel Isaac Eaton, the publisher of free theological works (Paine's "Age 
 of Reason," "Ecce Homo," &c.)- He underwent not less than eight prosecu- 
 tions by government for his publications. For publishing the third part of 
 the " Age of Reason" he suffered eighteen months' imprisonment. He died in 
 1814. (D. I. Eaton is not to be confounded with David Eaton, a bookseller, 
 and the friend of Tbeophilus Lindsey.) 
 
1812.] EVENING AT MORGAN^S. 249 
 
 lively little body, with a round short person, in a constant 
 fidget of good-nature and harmless vanity. She has written 
 novels, which do not sell ; and is reported to have said, when 
 she was introduced to Miss Edgeworth, ^' We sisters of the 
 quill ought to know each other." She said she had friends of 
 all sects in religion, and was glad she had, as she could not 
 possibly become uncharitable. She had been in Italy, and 
 loved the Italians for their warmth in friendship. Some one 
 remarked, " They are equally warm in their enmities." She 
 replied, " Of course they are." When I said I loved the peo- 
 ple of every country I had been in, she said, in a tone which 
 expressed much more than the words, " How glad I am to 
 hear you say so ! " 
 
 May 29th. — Coleridge's fom'th lecture. It was on the na- 
 ture of comedy, — about Aristophanes, &c. The mode of 
 treating the subject very German, and of course much too ab- 
 stract for his audience, which was thin. Scarcely any ladies 
 there. With such powers of original thought and real genius, 
 both philosophical and poetical, as few men in any age have 
 possessed, Coleridge wants certain minor qualities, which would 
 greatly add to his efficiency and influence with the public. 
 Spent the evening at Morgan's. Both Coleridge and Words- 
 worth there. Coleridge very metaphysical. He adheres to 
 Kant, notwithstanding all Schelling has written, and maintains 
 that from the latter he has gained no new ideas. All Schel- 
 ling has said, Coleridge has either thought himself, or found 
 in Jacob Boehme.* W^ordsworth talked very finely on poetry. 
 He praised Burns for his introduction to " Tam O'Shanter." 
 Bums had given an apology for drunkenness, by bringing to- 
 gether all the circumstances which can serve to render excusa- 
 ble what is in itself disgusting ; thus interesting our feelings, 
 and making us tolerant of what would otherwise be not en- 
 durable. 
 
 Wordsworth praised also the conclusion of " Death and Dr. 
 Hornbook." He compared this with the abrupt prevention of 
 the expected battle between Satan and the archangel in " Para- 
 dise Lost " ; but the remark did not bring its own evidence 
 with it. I took occasion to apply to Goethe the praise given 
 to Bums for the passage t quoted, and this led to my warm 
 
 * The German Visionary and Theosophist (1575-1624). 
 
 t The passage from Burns's " Vision" which H. C. R afterwards quoted to 
 Goethe as resembling the Zueignung (dedication) to his own works. *' Each 
 poet confesses his infirmities, — each is consoled by the mnse; the holly-leaf 
 of the Scotch poet being the ' veil of dew and sunbeams ' of the German." 
 )l * 
 
250 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 praise of the German. Coleridge denied merit to " Torquato 
 Tasso," and talked of the impossibility of being a good poet 
 without being a good man, adducing at the same time the im- 
 moral tendency of Goethe's works. To this I demurred. 
 
 May 31st. — A day of great enjoyment. Walked to Hamp- 
 stead. Found Wordsworth demonstrating to Hamond some 
 of the points of his philosophical theory. Speaking of his own 
 poems, he said he valued them principally as being a new j^ow- 
 er in the literary world. Hamond's friend Miller * esteemed 
 them for their pure morality. Wordsworth said he himself 
 looked to the powers of mind they call forth, and the energies 
 they presuppose and excite as the standard by which they 
 should be tried. He expatiated also on his fears lest a social 
 war should arise between the poor and the rich, the danger of 
 which is aggravated by the vast extension of the manufactur- 
 ing system, t 
 
 Wordsworth defended earnestly the Church Establishment. 
 He even said he would shed his blood for it. Nor was he dis- 
 concerted by a laugh raised against him on account of his 
 having before confessed that he knew not when he had been 
 in a church in his own country. " All our ministers are so 
 vile," said he. The mischief of allowing the clergy to depend 
 on the caprice of the multitude he thought more than out- 
 weighed all the evils of an Establishment. And in this I 
 agreed with him. 
 
 Dined with Wordsworth at Mr. Carr's.J Sir Humphry and 
 Lady Davy there. She and Sir H. seem to have hardly fin- 
 ished their honeymoon. Miss Joanna Baillie said to Words- 
 worth the other day, " We have witnessed a picturesque hap- 
 piness." Mrs. Walter Scott was spoken of rather disparagingly, 
 and Miss Baillie gave her this good word : *' When I visited 
 her I thought I saw a great deal to like. She seemed to ad- 
 mire and look up to her husband. She was very kind to 
 
 * A clergyman with whom H. C. R. afterwards became intimate. 
 
 t This was a topic which at this time haunted aUke Wordsworth and 
 Soiithey. Now that thirty-six years have elapsed, not only has the danger in- 
 'ireased, but the war has actually broken out ; and as evi(lence that men dis- 
 tinctly perceive the fact, in France a word has been applied, not invented, 
 ivhich by implication recognizes the fact. Society is divided into proprietaires 
 ^nd proletf I ires. And here we have an incessant controversy carried on by our 
 political economists, as to the respective claims of labor and capital. — H. C. 
 R., 1848. 
 
 j Can* was Solicitor to the Excise, — a clever man, whom I visited occasion- 
 ally at Hampstead. His eldest daughter married Dr. Lushington. His young- 
 est married Rolfe (Lord Cranworth), after the latter became one of the best of 
 judges. — H. C. R., 1849. 
 
1812.] MRS. SIDDONS. — "dE QUINCEY. 251 
 
 her giiests. Her children were well-bred, and the house was 
 in excellent order. And she had some smart roses in her cap, 
 and 1 did not like her the less for that." 
 
 June Sd. — Wordsworth told me that, before his ballads 
 were published, Tobin implored him to leave out ^^We are 
 Seven," as a poem that would damn the book. It became, 
 however, one of the most popular. Wordsworth related this 
 in answer to a remark that, bj only leaving out certain poems 
 at the suggestion of some one who knew the public taste, he 
 might avoid giving offence. 
 
 June 5th, — At Covent Garden. For the first time in my 
 life I saw Mrs. Siddons without any pleasure. It was in the 
 part of the Lady in "Comus." She was dressed most unbe- 
 comingly, and had a low gypsy hat with feathers hanging 
 down the side. She looked old, and I had almost said ugly. 
 Her fine features were lost in the distance. Even her decla- 
 mation did not please me. She spoke in too tragic a tone for 
 the situation and character. 
 
 June 6th. — Lent " Peter Bell " to Charles Lamb. To my 
 surprise, he does not like it. He complains of the slowness of 
 the narrative, as if that were not the art of the poet. He 
 says Wordsworth has great thoughts, but has left them out 
 here. In the perplexity arising from the diverse judgments of 
 those to whom I am accustomed to look up, I have no resource 
 but in the determination to disregard all opinions, and trust 
 to the simple impression made on my own mind. When Lady 
 Mackintosh was once stating to Coleridge her disregard of the 
 beauties of nature, which men commonly affect to admire, he 
 said his friend Wordsworth had described her feeling, and 
 quoted three lines from " Peter Bell " : — 
 
 *• A primrose by a river's brim 
 A yellow primrose was to him, 
 And it was nothing more." 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Mackintosh, " that is precisely my case." 
 June 17th. — At four o'clock dined in the Hall * with De 
 Quincey, who was very civil to me, and cordially invited me 
 to visit his cottage in Cumberland. Like myself, he is an en- 
 thusiast for Wordsworth. His person is small, his com- 
 plexion fair, and his air and manner are those of a sickly and 
 enfeebled man. From this circumstance his sensibility, which 
 I have no doubt is genuine, is in danger of being mistaken for 
 
 * That is Middle Temple >^!1. 
 
252 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 efFeminateness. At least coarser and more robustly healthful 
 persons mav fall into this mistake. 
 
 June 29th. — This evening Mrs. Siddons took her leave of 
 the stage. 
 
 RemJ^ — About this time, July 2, 1812, my Diary refers to 
 the death of Mrs. Buller,t — of those who never in any way 
 came before the pubhc one of the most remarkable women 
 whom I have ever known. She was a lady of family, belong- 
 ing to the Bullers of Devonshire, and had lived always at Court. 
 She said once, incidentally : " The Prince Regent has, I believe, 
 as high a regard for me as for any one, — that is, none at all. He 
 is incapable of friendship." On politics and on the affairs of life 
 she spoke with singular correctness and propriety. On mat- 
 ters of taste she was altogether antiquated. She was the 
 friend of Mrs. Montague and Mrs. Carter. She showed me 
 in her bookcase some bound quarto volumes, which she assured 
 me consisted of a translation of Plato by herself, in her own 
 hand. She was far advanced in years, and her death did not 
 come upon her unexpectedly. Not many days before she died 
 I called to make inquiries, and the servant, looking in a book 
 and finding my name there, told me I was to be admitted. I 
 found her pale as ashes, bolstered up in an arm-chair. She 
 received me with a smile, and allowed me to touch her hand. 
 *^ What are you reading, Mr. Robinson'?" she said. "The 
 wickedest cleverest book in the English language, if you chance 
 to know it." — "I have known the ' Fable of the Bees ' X more 
 than fifty years." She was right in her guess. 
 
 July 26th. — Finished Goethe's " Aus meinem Leben ; Dich- 
 tung und Wahrheit." The book has given me gi'eat delight. 
 The detailed account of the ceremonies on electing Joseph II. 
 has great interest. Goethe unites the grace and perfect art of 
 the most accomplished writer, with a retention of all the child- 
 like zeal and earnestness which he felt when the impressions 
 were first conveyed to him. I know of no writer who can, like 
 Goethe, blend the feeling of youth with the skill and power of 
 age. Here a perfect masterpiece is produced by the exercise 
 of this rare talent. The account of the election of Joseph 
 derives a pathetic interest from the subsequent destruction of 
 the German Empire. His own innocent boyish amour with 
 Gretchen is related with peculiar grace. The characteristic 
 
 * Written in 1849. f For Mrs. Buller, see ante, p. 206. 
 
 X Tlie '• Fable of the Bees; or, Private Vices Public Benefits." By Bernard 
 Mandeville, 1723. A work of great celebrity, or rather notoriety, in the last 
 century. 
 
1812.] COLERIDGE'S EARLY LIFE. 253 
 
 sketches of the friends of his father are felt by the reader 
 to be portraits of old acquaintances. How familiar the fea- 
 tures of the old Hebrew master seem to me, as he encourages 
 the free-thinking questions of his pupil about the Jew{^ by 
 laughing, though nothing is to be got by way of answer except- 
 ing, '' 'Ei ! nan-ischer Junge ] " (" Eh ! foolish boy ] ") The 
 florist, the admirer of Klopstock, the father and grandfather, 
 are all delightfully portrayed. And the remark Wordsworth 
 made on Burns is here also applicable, " The poet writes 
 humanely." There is not a single character who is hated, cer- 
 tainly not the lying French player-boy, arrant knave though 
 he is. Perhaps Gretchen's kinsfolk are the least agreeable of 
 the minor characters. 
 
 August Jfth. — After tea called at Morgan's. The ladies 
 were at home alone. I took a walk with them round the 
 squares. They state.d some particulars of Coleridge's family 
 and early life, which were new and interesting to me. His 
 father was a clertryman at Otterv, in Devonshire. Judge Bui- 
 ler, when a young man, lived many years in his family. Indeed 
 he was educated by him. On the death of Mr. Coleridge, Bul- 
 ler went down to offer his services to the widow. She said all 
 her family were provided for, except the tenth, a little boy. 
 Bulier promised to provide for him, said he would send him to 
 the Charterhouse, and put him into some profession. Colerido'e 
 went to town, and Bulier placed him in the Blue-Coat School. 
 The family, being proud, thought themselves disgraced by this. 
 His brothers would not let him visit them in the school dress, 
 and he would not go in any other. The Judge (whether he 
 was judge then I cannot tell) invited him to his house to dine 
 every Sunday. One day, however, there was company, and the 
 blue-coat boy was sent to a second table. He was then only 
 nine years old, but he would never go to the house again. 
 Thus he lost his only friend in London ; and having no one to 
 care for him or show him kindness, he passed away his child- 
 hood wretchedly. But he says he was thus led to become a 
 good scholar, for, that he might forget his misery, he had his 
 book always in his hand. 
 
 Coleridge and Morgan came back to supper. Coleridge was 
 in good spirits. He is about to turn again to Jean Paul. 
 
 August 12th. — Paid a visit to Flaxman in his lodgings at 
 Blackheath, and spent the night there. On the following 
 morning I returned with him to town and accompanied him 
 to Burlington House to see Lord Elgin's Marbles. The new 
 
254 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 cargo was not yet unpacked. I have neither the learning nor 
 the taste of an artist, but it was interesting even to me to be- 
 hold fragments of architectural ornaments from cities celebrated 
 by Homer. Flaxman affirmed with confidence that some of the 
 fragments before us were in existence before Homer's time. A 
 stranger came in, whom I afterwards understood to be Chan- 
 trey. . Flaxman said to him, laying his hand on a piece of 
 stone, " The hand of Phidias was on that ! " The stranger re- 
 marked that there was one leg which could not have been by 
 Phidias. The stranger conjectured that some ornaments on a 
 sarcophagus were meant to represent the lotus. Two sorts of 
 lotus and the egg^ he said, were three of the most sacred ob- 
 jects of antiquity, and were found carved on urns. The lotus, 
 he thought, was the origin of the cornucopia. 
 
 At six I went by appointment to Coleridge, with whom I 
 spent several hours alone, and most agreeably. I read to him 
 a number of scenes out of the new '^ Faust." He had before 
 read the earlier edition. He now acknowledged the genius of 
 Goethe as he has never before acknowledged it. At the same 
 time, the want of religion and enthusiasm in Goethe is in 
 Coleridge's estimation an irreparable defect. The beginning 
 of '* Faust " did not please Coleridge. Nor does he think 
 Mephistopheles a character. He had, however, nothing satis- 
 factory to oppose to my remark that Mephistopheles ought to 
 be* a mere abstraction, and no character. I read to Coleridge 
 the Zueignung, and he seemed to admire it gi'eatly. He had 
 been reading Stolberg lately, of whom he seems to have a suffi- 
 ciently high opinion. He considers Goethe's ** Mahomets 
 Gesang " an imitation of Stolberg's ^'Felsenstrom "; but the 
 *' Felsenstrom " is simply a piece of animated description, with- 
 out any higher import, while Goethe's poem is a profound 
 and significant allegory, exhibiting the nature of religious 
 enthusiasm. The prologue in heaven to ^' Faust" did not 
 offend Coleridge as I thought it would, from its being a parody 
 on Job. Coleridge said of Job, this incomparable poem has 
 been most absurdly interpreted. Far from being the most 
 patient of men, Job was the most impatient. And he was re- 
 warded for his impatience. His integrity and sincerity had 
 their recompense because he was superior to the hypocrisy of 
 his friends. Coleridge praised ^^ Wallenstein," but censured 
 Schiller for a sort of ventriloquism in poetry. By the by, a 
 happy term to express that common fault of throwing the 
 sentiments and feelings of the writer into the bodies of other 
 persons, the characters of the poem. 
 
1812.] ^miP HAMPSTEAD. WHF 255 
 
 August 20tk, — More talk with Coleridge about ** Faust." 
 The additions in the last edition he thinks the finest parts. 
 He objects that the character of Faust is not motivirt. He 
 would have it explained how he is thrown into a state of mind 
 which led to the catastrophe. The last stage of the process is 
 given. Faust is wretched. He has reached the iitmost that 
 finite powers can attain, and he yearns for infinity. Rather 
 than be finitely good, he would be infinitely miserable. This 
 is indeed reducing the wisdom and genius of Goethe's incom- 
 parable poem to a dull, commonplace, moral idea; but I do 
 not give it as the thing, only the abstract form. All final 
 results and most general abstractions are, when thus reduced, 
 seemingly trite. Coleridge talks of writing a new Faust ! He 
 would never get out of vague conceptions, — he would lose 
 himself in dreams ! In the spirited sketch he gave of Goethe's 
 work, I admired his power of giving interest to a prose state- 
 ment. 
 
 September 6th, — A delightful walk with my friend Amyot.* 
 He told some anecdotes of Dr. Parr, whom he knew. The 
 Doctor was asked his opinion on some subject of politics ; with 
 an affectation of mystery and importance he replied : "I am 
 not fond of speaking on the subject. If I were in my place in 
 the House of Lords ^ I should, dhc, c£*c." 
 
 13th. — A delightful day. The pleasantest walk by far I 
 have had this summer. The very rising from one's bed at 
 Hamond's house is an enjoyment worth going to Hampstead 
 overnight to partake of The morning scene from his back 
 room is exceedingly beautiful. We breakfasted at seven. He 
 and his sisters accompanied me beyond The Spaniards, and 
 down some fields opposite Kenwood. The wet grass sent 
 them back, and I went on (rather out of my way) till I 
 entered the Barnet road just before the west end of Finchley 
 Common. I crossed the common obliquely, and, missing the 
 shortest way, came to a good turnpike road at Colney Hatch. 
 On the heath I was amused by the novel sight of gypsies. 
 The road from Colney Hatch to Southgate very pleasing 
 indeed. Southgate a delightful village. No distant pros- 
 pect from the green, but there are fine trees admirably 
 grouped, and neat and happy houses scattered in picturesque 
 corners and lanes. The gTeat houses. Duchess of Chandos's, 
 &c., have, I suppose, a distant view. I then followed a path 
 to Winchmore Hill, and another to Enfield : the last through 
 
 * See page 16. 
 
256 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 some of the richest verdure I ever saw. The hills exquisitely 
 undulating. Very fine clumps of oak-trees. Enfield town, 
 the large white church, the serpentine New River, Mr. Mel- 
 lish's house, with its woody appendages, form a singularly 
 beautiful picture. I reached Enfield at about half past ten, 
 and found Anthony Robinson happy with his family. As 
 usual, I had a very pleasant day with him. Our chat in- 
 teresting and miinterrupted. Before dinner we lounged round 
 the green, and saw the Cedar of Lebanon which once belonged 
 to Queen Elizabeth's palace, of which only a chimney now re- 
 mains. A Uttle after five I set oat on my w^alk homeward, 
 through Hornsey and Islington. Till I came to Hornsey 
 Church, where I was no longer able to see, I w^as occupied 
 during my walk in reading SchlegeFs " Vorlesungen " ; his 
 account of ^schylus and Sophocles, and their plays, very ex- 
 cellent. I was especially interested in his account of the 
 Trilogy. How glad I should be to have leisure to translate 
 such a work as this of Schlegel's ! I reached my chambers 
 about nine. Rather fatigued, though my walk was not a long 
 one, — only eighteen or twenty miles. 
 
 SejJftember 19th, — After an early dinner walked to Black- 
 heath, reading a very amusing article in the Edinburgh Review 
 about ants. I cannot, however, enter into the high enjoy- 
 ment which some persons have in such subjects. What, after 
 all, is there that is delightful or soul-elevating in contemplat- 
 ing countless myriads of animals, endowed with marvellous 
 powers, w^hich lead to nothing beyond the preservation of 
 individual existence, or rather the preservation of a race ] 
 The effect is rather sad than animating ; for the more wonder- 
 ful their powers are, the more elaborately complex and more 
 curiously fitted to their end, and the more they resemble 
 those of human beings, the less apparent absurdity is there 
 in the supposition that our powers should cease with their 
 present manifestation. For my part, I am convinced that 
 the truths and postulates of religion have their sole origin 
 and confirmation in conscience and the moral sense. 
 
 September 21st, — Took tea at C. Aikin's. A chat about 
 Miss Edge worth. Mrs. Aikin willing to find in her every ex- 
 cellence, whilst I disputed her power of interesting in a long 
 connected tale, and her possession of poetical imagination. 
 In her numerous works she has certainly conceived and exe- 
 cuted a number of forms, which, though not representatives 
 of ideas, are excellent characters. Her sketches and her con 
 
ltl2.J 
 
 SPINOZA. — COLERIDGE. 257 
 
 ccptions of ordinary life are full of good sense ; but the ten- 
 dency of her writings to check enthusiasm of every kind is of 
 very problematical value. 
 
 October 3d, — Coleridge walked with me to A. Robinson's 
 for my Spinoza, which I lent him. While standing in the 
 room he kissed Spinoza's face in the title-page, and said : 
 " This book is a gospel to me." * But in less than a minute 
 
 * Mr. H. C. Robinson's copy of the works of Spinoza is now in the library 
 of Manchester New College, London, with marginalia from the hand of Coleridge^ 
 They are limited to the first part of the Ethica, '' De Deo " ; and to some let- 
 ters in his correspondence, especially with Oldenburg, one of the earliest sec- 
 retaries of the Royal Society in London. It appears from these marginal notes, 
 that Coleridge heartily embraced Spinoza's fmidamental position of the Divine 
 Immanence in all things, as distinguished from the ordinary anthropomorphic 
 conceptions of God, but was anxious to guard it from the pantheistic conclu- 
 sions which might l3e supposed to result from it, and to clear it from the ne- 
 cessarian and materialistic assumptions with which he thought Spinoza himself 
 had gratuitously encumbered it. Everywhere Coleridge distinctly asserts the 
 Divine Intelligence and the Divine Will against the vague, negative generality 
 in which Spinoza's overpowering sense of the incommensurability of the Divine 
 and the Human had left them ; and strenuously contends for the freedom of 
 human actions as the indispensable basis of a true theory of morals. " It is 
 most necessary," he says, in a note on Propos. XXVIII. (of the first part of the 
 Ethics), '-to distinguish Spinozism from Spinoza, — i. e. the necessary conse- 
 quences of the immanence in God as the one only necessary Being whose essence 
 involves existence, with the deductions, — from Spinoza's own mechanic real- 
 istic view of the world." " Even in the latter," he continues, " 1 cannot accord 
 with Jacobi's assertion, that Spinozism as taught by Spinoza is atheism : for 
 though he will not consent to call things essentially disparate by the same 
 name, and therefore denies human intelligence to Deity, yet he adores his wis- 
 dom, and expressly declares the identity of Love, i. e. perfect virtue or concen- 
 tric will in the human being, and that with which the Supreme loves himself, 
 as all in all." " Never," he concludes, "has a great man been so hardly and 
 inequitably treated by posterity as Spinoza: no allowances made for the prev- 
 alence, nay universality, of dogmatism and the mechanic system in his age : 
 no trial, except in Germany, to adopt the glorious truths into the family of 
 Life and Power. What if we treated Bacon with the same harshness! " 
 
 One other note on the same subject (appended to Epist. XXXVI.) is so char- 
 acteristic, and in so beautiful a spirit, that it ought to be transcribed : — 
 
 " The truth is, Spinoza, in common with all the metaphysicians before him 
 (Bohme perhaps excepted), began at the wrong end, conmiencing with God as 
 an object. Had he, though still dogmatizing objectively^ begun with the natura 
 naturans in its simplest terms, he must have proceeded on ' per intelligentiam ' 
 to the subjective, and having reached the other pole = idealism, or the ' I,' he 
 would have reprogressed to the equatorial point, or the identity of subject 
 and object, and would thus have arrived finally not only at the clear idea of 
 God, as absolute Being, the gi'ound of all existents (for so far he did reach, and 
 to charge him with a1:heism is a gross calumny), but likewise at the faith in 
 the living God, who hath the ground of his own existence in himself. That 
 this would have been tlie result, had he lived a few years longer, I think his 
 Epist. LXXII. authorizes us to believe; and of so pure a soul, so righteous a 
 spirit as Spinoza, I dare not doubt that this potential fact is received by the 
 Eternal as actual. 
 
 In the epistle here referred to, Spinoza expresses his intention, should his 
 life be spared, of defining more clearly his ideas concerning '' the eternal and 
 infinite Essence in relation to extension," which he thought Des Cartes h^'i 
 wrongly taken as the definition of Matter. J. J. T 
 
 Q 
 
258 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 15. 
 
 he added : " His philosophy is nevertheless false. Spinoza's 
 system has been demonstrated to be false, but only by that 
 philosophy which has demonstrated the falsehood of all other 
 philosophies. Did philosophy commence with an it is, instead 
 of an / am, Spinoza would be altogether true." And without 
 allowing a breathing-time, Coleridge parenthetically asserted : 
 " I, however, believe in all the doctrines of Christianity, even 
 the Trinity." A. Robinson afterwards observed, *' Coleridge 
 has a comprehensive faith and love." Contrary to my ex- 
 pectation, however, he was pleased with these outbursts, 
 rather than offended by them. They impressed him with the 
 poet's sincerity. Coleridge informs me that his tragedy is 
 accepted at Drury Lane. Whitbread * admires it exceedingly, 
 and Arnold, the manager, is confident of its success. Cole- 
 ridge says he is now about to compose lectures, which are to 
 be the produce of all his talent and power, on education. Each 
 lecture is to be delivered in a state in which it may be sent to 
 the press. 
 
 October lOtlu — Dined at the Hall. A chatty party. It is 
 
 said that Lady invited H. Twiss to dinner, and requested 
 
 him to introduce an amusing friend or two. He thought of 
 the authors of the " Rejected Addresses," and invited James 
 Smith and his brother to come in the evening of a day on 
 which he himself was to dine with her ladyship. Smith 
 wrote, in answer, that he was flattered by the polite invita- 
 tion, but it happened unluckily that both he and his brother 
 had a prior engagement at Bartholomew Fair, — he to eat 
 fire, and his brother to swallow two hundred yards of ribbon. 
 
 October 22d. — Heard W. Huntington preach, the man who 
 puts S. S. (sinner saved) after his name.f He has an admira- 
 ble exterior ; his voice is clear and melodious ; his manner 
 singularly easy, and even graceful. There was no violence, 
 no bluster, yet there was no want of earnestness or strength. 
 His language was very figurative, the images being taken from 
 the ordinary business of life, and especially from the army 
 and navy. He is very colloquial, and has a wonderful biblical 
 memory ; indeed, he is said to know the whole Bible by heart. 
 
 * Mr. S. Whitbread, M. P., was a proprietor of shares in Drury Lane The- 
 atre, and through friendship for Sheridan took an active part in its affairs. 
 
 t He thus explained his adoption of these mysterious letters. " M. A. is 
 out of mv reach for want of learning, D. D. I cannot attain for want of cash, 
 but S. S. i adopt, by which I mean sinner saved." His portrait is in the Na- 
 tional Portrait Gallery. He commenced his own epitaph thus : " Here lies the 
 coal-heaver, beloved of God, but abhorred of men." He died at Tunbridge 
 Wells in 1813. His published works extend to twenty volumes. 
 
1812.] FAMILY RELIGION. 259 
 
 I noticed that, though he was frequent in his citations, Lnd 
 always added chapter and verse, he never opened the Uttle 
 book he had in his hand. He is said to resemble Robert 
 Robinson of Cambridge. There was nothing shrewd or origi- 
 nal in the sermon to-day, but there was hardly any impro- 
 priety. I detected but a single one : Huntington said : " Take 
 my word for it, my friends, they who act in this way wdll not 
 be beloved by God, or by anybody else.''^ 
 
 Decemhei' 15th. — Hamond mentioned that recently, when 
 he was on the Grand Jury, and they visited Newgate Prison, 
 he proposed inquiring of Cobbett whether he had anything to 
 complain of* Cobbett answered, '' Nothing but the being 
 here." Hamond said, the reverent bows his fellow-jurymen 
 made to Cobbett were quite ludicrous. 
 
 December 20th, Sunday. — A large family party at the 
 Bischoff 's, of which not the least agreeable circumstance was, 
 that there was a family religious service. There is something 
 most interesting and amiable in family devotional exercise, 
 when, as in this instance, there is nothing austere or ostenta- 
 tious. Indeed everything almost that is done by a family, as 
 such, is good. Religion assumes a forbidding aspect only when 
 it is mingled with impure feelings, as party animosity, malig- 
 nant intolerance, and contempt. 
 
 December 23d, — Saw " Bombastes Furioso " and " Midas." 
 In both Liston was less funny than usual. Is it that he has 
 grown fatter ] Droll persons should be very fat or very thin. 
 Mathews is not good as the king in " Bombastes." He is ex- 
 cellent chiefly as a mimic, or where rapidity of transition or 
 volubility is required. 
 
 Eem.^ — It was in the early part of this year that dear 
 Mrs. Barbauld incurred great reproach by writing a poem en- 
 titled " 1811." It is in heroic rhyme, and prophesies that on 
 some future day a traveller from the antipodes will from a 
 broken arch of Blackfriars Bridge contemplate the ruins of St. 
 Paul's ! ! This v>^as written more in sorrow than in anger ; 
 but there was a disheartening and even gloomy tone, which 
 even I with all my love for her could not quite excuse. It pro- 
 voked a very coarse review in the Quarterly, which many years 
 afterwards Murray told me he was more ashamed of than any 
 other article in the Review, 
 
 * In 1810 Cobbett was tried for publishing certain observations on the flog- 
 ging of some militiamen at Ely. He was sentenced to pay a fine of £ 1,000, 
 or be imprisoned for two years; he chose the latter. 
 
 t Written in 1849. 
 
260 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 [During this year a misunderstanding arose between Cole- 
 ridge and Wordsworth, to which as ^' all 's well that ends w^ell," 
 it is not improper to allude. The cause of the misunderstanding 
 was the repetition to Coleridge, with exaggerations, of what, 
 with a kindly intent, had been said respecting him by Words- 
 worth to a third person. C. Lamb thought a breach w^ould 
 inevitably take place, but Mr. Robinson determined to do all 
 he could to prevent such a misfortune. Accordingly he set 
 about the work of mediation, and he certainly did his pai*t 
 most thoroughly. Going repeatedly from one friend to the 
 other, he was able to offer such explanations and to give such 
 assurances that the ground of complaint was entirely removed, 
 and the old cordiality was restored betw^een tw^o friends who, 
 as he knew, loved and honored each other sincerely. In these 
 interviews he was struck alike with the feeling and eloquence 
 of the one, and the integrity, purity, and delicacy shown by 
 the other. On the 11th of May he went to Coleridge's, and 
 found Lamb with him. The assassination of Mr. Perceval had 
 just taken place * The news deeply affected them, and they 
 could hardly talk of anything else ; but the Diary has this en- 
 try : '' Coleridge said to me in a half-whisper, that Words- 
 worth's letter had been perfectly satisfactory, and that he had 
 answered it immediately. I flatter myself, therefore, that my 
 pains will not have been lost, and that through the interchange 
 of statement, which but for me would probably never have 
 been made, a reconciliation will have taken place most desira- 
 ble and salutary." t — Ed.] 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 1813. 
 
 JANUARY 23d, — In the evening at Drury Lane, to see 
 the first performance of Coleridge's tragedy, " Remorse." t 
 
 * See ante^ p. 246. 
 
 t The Diary contains many details on this subject; but it has not been 
 thought necessary' to give them a place in these selections. 
 
 X Coleridge had complained to me of the way in which Sheridan spoke in 
 company of his tragedy. He told me that Sheridan had said that in the 
 original copy there was in the famous cave scene this line : — 
 
 " Drip! drip! drip! There 's nothing here but dripping." 
 
 However, there was every disposition to do justice to it on the stage, nor 
 were the public unfavorably disposed towards it. 
 
1813.] COLERIDGE'S LECTURE. 261 
 
 I sat with Amyot, the Hamonds, Godwins, &c. My interest 
 for the play was greater than in the play, and my anxiety for 
 its success took from me the feeling of a mere spectator. I 
 have no hesitation in saying that its poetical is far gi'eater 
 than its dramatic merit, that it owes its success rather to its 
 faults than to its beauties, and that it will have for its less 
 meritorious qualities applause which is really due to its excel- 
 lences. Coleridge's great fault is that he indulges before the 
 public in those metaphysical and philosophical speculations 
 which are becoming only in solitude or with select minds. 
 His two principal characters are philosophers of Coleridge's 
 own school ; the one a sentimental moralist, the other a sophis- 
 ticated villain, — both are dreamers. Two experiments made 
 by Alvez on his return, the one on his mistress by relating a 
 dream, and the other when he tries to kindle remorse in the 
 breast of Ordonio, are too fine-spun to be intelligible. How- 
 ever, in spite of these faults, of the improbability of the 
 action, of the clumsy contrivance with the picture, and the 
 too ornate and poetic diction throughout, the tragedy was re- 
 ceived with great and almost unmixed applause, and was an- 
 nounced for repetition without any opposition. 
 
 January 26th. — Heard Coleridge's concluding lecture. He 
 was received with three rounds of applause on entering the 
 room, and very loudly applauded during the lecture and at its 
 close. That Coleridge should ever become a popular man 
 would at one time have been thought a very vain hope. It 
 depends on himself ; and if he would make a sacrifice of some 
 peculiarities of taste (his enemies assert that he has made 
 many on essential points of religion and politics), he has 
 talents to command success. His political opinions will suit 
 a large portion of the public ; and, though not yet a favorite 
 with the million, the appreciation of his genius is spreading. 
 
 Fehrttary 2d. — I went with Aders to see Coleridge, who 
 spoke to my German friend of Goethe with more warmth than 
 usual. He said that if he seemed to depreciate Goethe it was 
 because he compared him with the greatest of poets. He 
 thought Goethe had, from a sort of caprice, underrated the 
 talent which in his youth he had so eminently displayed in 
 his " Werter," — that of exhibiting man in a state of exalted 
 sensibility. In after life he delighted in representing objects 
 of pure beauty, not objects of desire and passion, — rather as 
 statues or paintings, — therefore he called Goethe picturesque. 
 Coleridge accused Schlegel of one-sidedness in his excessive 
 admiration of Shakespeare. 
 
262 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 February 23d, — I underwent a sort of examination from 
 Mr. Hollist, the Treasurer of the Middle Temple. He inquired 
 at what University I had been educated, and this caused me to 
 state that I was a Dissenter, and had studied at Jena. This 
 form being ended, all impediments to my being called to the 
 bar next term are cleared away. 
 
 This day a Mr. Talfourd called with a letter from Mr. Rutt ; 
 he is going to study the law, and wants information from me 
 concerning economical arrangements ; he has been for some 
 time Dr. Valpy's head boy, and wishes, for a few years, to oc- 
 cupy himself by giving instruction or otherwise, so as to be no 
 encumbrance to his father, who has a large family. He is a 
 very promising young man indeed, has great powers of conver- 
 sation and public speaking, not without the faults of his age^ 
 but with so much apparent vigor of mind, that I am greatly 
 mistaken if he do not become a distinguished man. 
 
 Februari/ 2Jfth, — Attended a conference in the vestry of the 
 Gravel Pit Meeting, Mr. Aspland presiding. The subject was 
 ** Infant Baptism." Young Talfourd spoke in a very spirited 
 manner, but in too oratorical a tone.* We walked from Hack- 
 ney together ; his youthful animation and eagerness excited 
 my envy. It fell from him accidentally, that a volume of poems, 
 written by him when at school, had been printed, but that he 
 was ashamed of them. 
 
 Rem.^ — Talfourd combined great industry with great vi- 
 vacity of intellect. He had a marvellous flow of florid language 
 both in conversation and speech-making. His father being 
 unable to maintain him in his profession, he had to support 
 himself, which he did most honorably. He went into the 
 chambers of Chitty, the great special pleader, as a pupil ; but 
 he submitted, for a consideration, to drudgery which would be 
 thought hardly compatible with such lively faculties, and at 
 variance with his dramatic and poetic taste. These, too, he 
 made to a certain extent matters of business. He connected 
 himself with magazines, and became the theatrical critic for 
 several of them. He thereby contracted a style of flashy 
 writing, which off'ended severe judges, who drew in conse- 
 quence unfavorable conclusions which have not been realized. 
 He wrote pamphlets, which were printed in the Fam/phleieer^ 
 published by his friend Valpy. Among these was a very 
 
 * In his early life Mr. Talfourd was a Dissenter, and occasionally took part in 
 the conferences held in the vestry at the Gravel Pit Meeting, Hackney, to dis 
 cuss religious subjects. 
 
 t Written in 1847, 
 
1813.] TALFOURD, 263 
 
 vehement eulogy of Wordswoii:h. He became intimate with 
 Lamb, who introduced him to Wordsworth. It was in these 
 words : " Mr. Wordsworth, I introduce to you Mr. Talfourd, 
 7)17/ only admirer^ That he became in after Hfe the executor 
 of Lamb and his biographer is well known. Among his early 
 intimacies was that with the family of Mr. Rutt, to whose 
 eldest daughter, Eachel, he became attached. After a time 
 Talfourd came to me with the request that I would procure 
 for him employment as a reporter for the Times^ that he might 
 be enabled to marry. This I did, and no one could fill the office 
 more honorably, as was acknowledged by his associates on the 
 Oxford Circuit. He made known at once at the bar mess what 
 he was invited to do. Others had done the same thing on other 
 circuits secretly and most dishonorably. Consent was given by 
 the bar of his circuit ; and in this way, as a writer for papers 
 and magazines, and by his regular professional emoluments, he 
 honorably brought up a numerous family. As his practice in- 
 creased he gradually gave up writing for the critical press, and 
 also his office of reporting. But when he renounced literature 
 for emolument, he carried it on for fame, and became a dramat- 
 ic writer. His first tragedy, " Ion," earned general applause, 
 and in defiance of the advice of prudent or timid friends he 
 produced two other tragedies.* He did not acquire equal 
 reputation for these ; probably a fortunate circumstance, as 
 literary fame is no recommendation either to an Attorney or 
 to a Minister who seeks for a laborious Solicitor-General. It 
 was after he was known as a dramatist that Talfourd f ob- 
 tained a seat in Parliament, where he distinguished himself by 
 introducing a bill in favor of a copyright for authors, to which 
 he was urged mainly by Wordsworth, who had become his 
 friend. His bill, however, did not pass, and the work was 
 taken out of his hands. The act $ which at length passed the 
 legislature did not grant as much as Talfourd asked for. The 
 one act which ought to be known by his name was one con- 
 ferring on unhappy wives, separated from their husbands, a 
 right to have a sight of their children. 
 
 ^ * " Ion " was produced at Covent Garden Theatre in May, 1836. The prin- 
 cipal character, first performed by Macready, was afterwards undertaken by 
 Miss Ellen Tree. Talfourd's second tragedy, " The Athenian Captive," in 
 which Macready played Thoas, was produced at the Haymarket, 1838. The 
 third and least successful was " Glencoe," first represented at the Haymarket, 
 May 23, 1840. Macready again played the hero. — G. S. 
 
 t Talfourd was Member for Rea'ding, where he had been a pupil at the 
 Grammar School, under Dr. Valpy. 
 
 X This is always, however, spoken of as Talfourd's Act. 
 
264 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, la 
 
 Talfourd soon acquired popularity at the bar, from the mere 
 faculty of speaking, as many have done who were after all not 
 qualified for heavy work. I m'ight have doubted of the Ser- 
 geant's qualifications in this respect, but some years ago I 
 heard the late Lord Chief Justice Tindal praise him highly for 
 judgment and skill in the management of business. He said 
 he was altogether a successful advocate. No man got more 
 verdicts, and no man more deserved to get them. Talfourd is 
 a generous and kind-hearted man. To men of letters and artists 
 in distress, such as Leigh Hunt, Haydon, &c., he was always 
 very liberal. He did not forget his early friends, and at the 
 large parties he has hitherto delighted to give, poets, players, 
 authors of every kind, were to be seen, together with barristers, 
 and now and then judges. 
 
 Fehruary 26th, — Went to the Royal Academy and heard 
 Sir John Soane deliver his third lecture on Architecture ; it 
 was not very interesting, but the conclusion was diverting. 
 " As the grammarian has his positive, comparative, and super- 
 lative, and as we say, ' My King, my Country, and my God,' 
 so ought the lover of fine art to say. Painting, Sculpture, 
 Architecture ! ! ! " 
 
 March 18th, — Went to Covent Garden. Saw " Love for 
 Love." * Mathews, by admirable acting, gave to Foresight a 
 significance and truth strikingly contrasted with the unmean- 
 ing insipidity of most of the other characters. Mrs. Jordan 
 played Miss Prue, and certainly with great spirit. She looked 
 well, but her voice has lost much of its sweetness and melody ; 
 yet she is still the most fascinating creature on the stage. She 
 also took the part of Nell in " The Devil to Pay " ; in this her 
 acting was truly admirable. Her age and bulk do not interfere 
 with any requisite in the character. 
 
 April 5th, — With Walter, who introduced me to Croly, his 
 dramatic critic, who is about to go to Hamburg to discharge 
 the duty I performed six years before. Croly is a fierce-look- 
 ing Irishman, very lively in conversation, and certainly has 
 considerable talent as a writer ; his eloquence, like his person, 
 is rather energetic than elegant, and though he has great power 
 and concentration of thought, he wants the delicacy and dis- 
 
 * Congreve's animated comedy of " Love for Love " was produced under 
 Betterton at Lincoln's Inn Fields in 1695. The part of Ben was written for 
 Doggett. Mrs. Abington was celebrated for her performance of Miss Prue, 
 and the excellence of the play was especially manifest when performed by a 
 powerful company under Mr. Macready's management at Drury Lane Theatre, 
 in 1843 — G S. 
 
1813.] JOHN BUCK. 265 
 
 crimination of judgment which are the finest quaUties in a 
 critic.^* 
 
 April 9th. — Accompanied Andrews f to the House of Lords, 
 to hear Lord Wellesley's speech on East Indian affairs. I was 
 very much disappointed, for I discerned in the speech (evi- 
 dently a prepared and elaborate one) not one of the great 
 qualities of an orator or statesman. His person is small, and 
 his animation has in it nothing of dignity and weighty energy. 
 He put himself into a sort of artificial passion, and was in a 
 state of cold inflammation. He began with a parade of first 
 principles, and made a fuss about general ideas, which were, I 
 thought, after all very commonplace. Yet the speech had ex- 
 cited curiosity, and brought a great number of members of the 
 House of Commons behind the Throne. But after listening for 
 an hour and a half my patience was exhausted, and I came 
 home. 
 
 April 15th. — A useful morning at the King's Bench, Guild- 
 hall. My friend John Buck % was examined as a witness in a 
 special jury insurance cause. Garrow rose to cross-examine 
 him. " You have been many years at Lloyd's, Mr. Buck % " 
 
 — " Seventeen years." Garrow sat down, but cross-examined 
 at great length another witness. Lord EUenborough, in his 
 sunmiing up, said : " Yoa will have remarked that Mr. At- 
 torney did not think it advisable to ask Mr. Buck a single 
 question. Now on that gentleman's testimony everything 
 turns, for if you think that his statement is correct — " 
 Before he could complete the sentence the foreman said : " For 
 the plaintiff*, my Lord." — "1 thought as much," said the 
 Chief Justice. 
 
 Mai/ 8th. — In the evening went to the Temple, where I 
 learned that I had been called to the bap. The assurance of 
 the fact, though I had no reason to doubt it, gave me pleasure. 
 
 Rem. § — I have frequently asserted, since my retirement, 
 that the two wisest acts of my life were my going to the bar 
 when, according to the usual age at which men begin practice, 
 I was already an old man, being thirty-eight, and my retiring 
 from the bar when, according to the same ordinary usage, I 
 was still a young man, viz. fifty-three. 
 
 * Croly's career has been a singular one. He tried liis hand as a contributor 
 to the daily press in various ways. He wrote tragedies, comedies, and novels, 
 
 — at least one of each; and at last settled down as a preacher, with the rank of 
 Doctor, but of what faculty I do not know. — H. C. R., 1847. 
 
 t Afterwards Sergeant Andrews. 
 
 X See ante, p. 19. § Written in 1847 
 
 VOL. I. 12 
 
266 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 H. C. E. TO T. K. 
 
 56 Hatton Garden, May 9, 1813. 
 
 My dear Thomas : — 
 
 .... Before I notice the more interesting subject of your 
 letter, I will dismiss the history of yesterday in a few words, 
 just to satisfy your curiosity. At four o'clock precisely I 
 entered the Middle Temple Hall in pontificalihus, where the 
 oaths of allegiance and abjiu:-ation were administered to me. 
 I then dined, dressed as I was, at a table apart. I had five 
 friends with me. After dinner we ascended the elevation at 
 the end of the Hall. My friends and acquaintance gradually 
 joined our party. We were just a score in number. I be- 
 lieve you are acquainted with none of them but the Colliers, 
 Amyot, Andrew^s, and Quayle. The rest were professional 
 men. After drinking about six bottles of humble port, claret 
 was brought in, and we broke up at ten. What we had been 
 doing in the mean while I shall be better able to tell when I 
 have received the butler's bill. I cannot say that it was a day 
 of much enjoyment to me. I am told, and indeed I felt, that 
 I was quite nervous when I took the oaths. And I had mo- 
 ments of very serious reflection even while the bottle was 
 circulating, and I was affecting the boon companion. One in- 
 cident, however, did serve to raise my spirits. On my coming 
 home, just before dinner, I found with your letter the copy of 
 an Act of Parliament which Wedd Nash had left. He had 
 nominated me Auditor in a private Inclosure Act, and the fee, 
 he informed Mrs. Collier, would be ten guineas. The timing 
 of this my first professional emolument does credit to Nash's 
 friendliness and delicacy. 
 
 June ISili. — Went to Mrs. Barbauld's. Had a pleasant 
 chat with her about Madame de Stael, the Edgeworths, &c. 
 The latter are staying in London, and the daughter gains the 
 good-will of every one ; not so the father. They dined at 
 Sotheby's. After dinner Mr. Edgeworth was sitting next 
 Mrs. Siddons, Sam Kogers being on the other side of her. 
 " Madam," said he, " I think I saw you perform Millamont 
 thirty-five years ago." — " Pardon me, sir." — '' 0, then it was 
 forty years ago ; I distinctly recollect it." — " You will excuse 
 me, sir, I never played Millamont." — 0, yes, ma'am, I rec- 
 ollect." — "I think," she said, t mining to Mr. Rogers, " it is 
 
1813.] MADAME DE STAEL. 267 
 
 time for me to change my place " ; and she rose with her own 
 peculiar dignity.* 
 
 June 2Jfih. — A Dies non, and therefore a holiday. Called 
 on Madame de Stael at Brunet's. She received me very 
 civilly, and I promise myself much pleasure from her society 
 during the year she intends remaining in England. I intimated 
 to her that I w^as become a man of business, and she will be 
 satisfied with my attending her evening parties after nine 
 o'clock. Her son is a very genteel young man, almost hand- 
 some, but with something of a sleepy air in his eye, and the 
 tone of his conversation a w^hisper which may be courtly, but 
 gives an appearance of apathy. The daughter I scarcely saw, 
 but she seems to be plain. 
 
 July 6th. — Went to a supper-party at Rough's, given in 
 honor of the new Sergeant, Copley. Burrell, the Pordens, 
 Flaxmans, Tooke, &c. there. 
 
 Rem.^ — This was the first step in that career of success 
 which distinguished the ex-chancellor, now called the venerable 
 Lord Lyndhurst. 
 
 July 11th, — Called this morning on Madame de Stael at 
 3 George Street, Hanover Square. It is singular that, having 
 in Germany assisted her as a student of philosophy, I should 
 now render her service as a lawyer. Murray the bookseller 
 was with her, and I assisted in drawing up the agreement for 
 her forthcoming work on Germany, for which she is to receive 
 1,500 guineas. 
 
 July IJfth. — Going into the country for the summer, I 
 quitted the house and family of the Colliers, in which I had 
 lived as an inmate for years w4th great pleasure. I am to re- 
 turn, though only as a visitor, in the autumn, after my first 
 experience of law practice on the circuit and at the sessions. 
 
 July 18th, — My first dinner with the bar mess, at the 
 Angel Inn at Bury, where I took my seat as junior on the 
 Sessions Circuit. Our party consisted of Hunt, Hart, Storks,} 
 Whitbread, and Twiss. I enjoyed the afternoon. Hunt is a 
 gentlemanly man. Hart an excellent companion. Storks was 
 agreeable, and Whitbread has a pleasing countenance. 
 
 Rem,% — Hart was in every way the most remarkable man 
 
 * This anecdote is given with a difference in the Reminiscences and the Diary. 
 In the latter, the dinner-party is said to have been at Lord Lonsdale's, and the 
 person to whom Mrs. Siddons turned on leaving her seat, Tom Moore. 
 
 t Written in 1847. 
 
 X Afterwards Sergeant Storks. 
 
 § Written in 1847. 
 
 % 
 
 L 
 
268 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 of our circuit. He was originally a preacher among the Cal- 
 vinistic Baptists, among whom he had the reputation of being 
 at the same time so good a preacher and so bad a liver that it 
 was said to him once, " Mr. Hart, when I hear you in the 
 pulpit, I wish you were never out of it ; when I see you out 
 of it^ I wish you were never in it." He married a lady, the 
 heir in tail after the death of her father. Sir John Thorold, to 
 a large estate. 
 
 At the death of Sir John, Hart left his profession. When 
 I saw him a couple of years after, he had taken the name 
 of Thorold ; and then he told me that he never knew what 
 were the miseries of poverty until he came into the posses- 
 sion of an entailed estate, — all his creditors came upon him 
 at once, and he was involved in perpetual quarrels with his 
 family. His wretchedness led to a complete change in his 
 habits, and he became in his old age again a preacher. He 
 built a chapel on his estate at his own expense, and preached 
 voluntarily to those who partook of his enthusiasm, and could 
 relish popular declamations of ultra-Calvinism. 
 
 August 20th. — (At Norwich.) I defended a man for the 
 murder of his wife and her sister by poison. It was a case of 
 circumstantial evidence. There was a moral certainty that 
 the man had put corrosive sublimate into a tea-kettle, though 
 no evidence so satisfactory as his Tyburn countenance. I be- 
 lieve the acquittal in this case was owing to this circumstance. 
 The wife, expecting to die, said, " No one but my husband 
 could have done it." As this produced an effect, I cross-ex- 
 amined minutely as to the proximity of other cottages, — 
 there being children about, — the door being on the latch, 
 &c. ; and then concluded with an earnest question : " On your 
 solemn oath, were there not twelve persons at least who cotdd 
 have done it ] " — " Yes, there were." And then an assenting 
 nod from a juryman. I went home, not triumphant. But 
 the accident of being the successful defender of a man ac- 
 cused of murder brought me forward, and though my fees at 
 two assize towns did not amount to £ 50, yet my spirits were 
 raised. 
 
 Rem.* — Sergeant Blosset (formerly Peckwell) was, taking 
 him for all in all, the individual whose memory I respect the 
 most of my departed associates on the circuit. He was a 
 quiet unpretending man, with gentlemanly, even graceful 
 manners, and though neither an orator nor a man of eminent 
 
 * Written in 1847. 
 
1813.] MADAME DE STAEL. 269 
 
 learning or remarkable acuteness, yet far beyond every other 
 man on our circuit. He had the skill to advocate a bad cause 
 well, without advocating that which was bad in the cause,— 
 which greater men than he were sometimes unable to do. 
 Hence he was a universal favorite. 
 
 My immediate senior on the circuit was Henry Cooper. He 
 was very far my superior in talent for business, — indeed in 
 some respects he was an extraordinary man. His memory, 
 his cleverness, were striking ; but so was his want of judg- 
 ment, and it often happened that his clever and amusing hits 
 told as much against as for his client. One day he was enter- 
 taining the whole court, when Rolfe (now the Baron, then 
 almost the junior) * whispered to me : " How clever that is ! 
 How I thank God I am not so clever ! " 
 
 I once saw Cooper extort a laugh from Lord Ellenborough 
 in spite of himself '' But it is said my client got drunk. 
 Why, everybody gets drunk." Then, changing his voice from 
 a shrill tone to a half-whisper, and with a low bow, he added : 
 " Always excepting your Lordships and the Bishops." 
 
 October 18th. — Dined with Madame de Stael, — a party of 
 liberals at her house, viz. : Lady Mackintosh, Eobert Adair the 
 diplomatist, Godwin, Curran, and Murray, (fee. 
 
 Our hostess spoke freely of Buonaparte. She was intro- 
 duced to him when a victorious general in Italy ; even then 
 he affected princely airs, and spoke as if it mattered not what 
 he said, — he conferred honor by saying anything. He had a 
 pleasure in being rude. He said to her, after her writings 
 were known, that he did not think women ought to write 
 books. She answered : " It is not every woman who can gain 
 distinction by an alliance with a General Buonaparte." Buona- 
 parte said to Madame de Condorcet, the widow of the philoso- 
 pher, who was a great female politician, and really a woman 
 of talent : " I do not like women who meddle with politics." 
 Madame de Condorcet instantly replied : " Ah, mon Geueral, 
 as long as you men take a fancy to cut off our heads now and 
 then, we are interested in knowing why you do it." 
 
 On one occasion Buonaparte said to a party of ladies : 
 " Faites moi des consents." 
 
 Our hostess asserted that every political topic could be ex- 
 hausted in one hour's speech ; but, when pressed, it was evi- 
 dent that by exhausting a subject she understood uttering all 
 the possible generalities and commonplaces it involves. She 
 
 * Afterwards Lord Chancellor Cranworth. 
 
270 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 praised Erskine's speeches. Curran, who listened, held his 
 tongue ; he said but one thing on the subject of oratory, and 
 that was in praise of Fox, who he said was the most honest 
 and candid of speakers, and spoke only to convince fairly. 
 " It seemed to me,*' said Curran, " as if he were addressing 
 himself to me personally." Adair praised Sheridan highly in 
 the ji9a.s^ tense, but said he injured himself by an injudicious 
 imitation of Burke in his speech before the lords on the im- 
 peachment of Hastings. Sheridan was praised for his faculty 
 of abstracting his mind from all other things and working up 
 a subject. 
 
 Curran, who is in his best moments a delightful companion, 
 told some merry stories, at which our hostess exclaimed, " Ah, 
 que cela est charmant ! " He was, however, also melancholy, 
 and said he never went to bed in Ireland without wishing not 
 to rise again. He spoke of the other world and those he 
 should wish to see there. Madame de Stael said that after 
 she had seen those she loved (this with a sentimental sigh), 
 she should inquire for Adam and Eve, and ask how they were 
 born. During a light conversation about the living and the 
 dead. Lady Mackintosh exclaimed : " After all, the truth of it 
 seems to be that the sinners have the best of it in this world, 
 and the saints in the next." Cun^an declared '' Paradise Lost " 
 to be the worst poem in the language. Milton was incapable 
 of a delicate or tender sentiment towards woman. Curran 
 did not render these heresies palatable by either originality or 
 pleasantry. Godwin defended Milton with zeal, and even for 
 his submission to Cromwell, who, he said, though a usurper, 
 was not a tyrant, nor cruel. This was said in opposition to 
 Madame de Stael, who w^as not pleased with the philosopher. 
 She said to Lady Mackintosh, after he was gone : *' I am glad 
 I have seen this man, — it is curious to see how naturally 
 Jacobins become the -advocates of tyrants ; so it is in France 
 now." Lady Mackintosh apologized for him in a gentle tone ; 
 ** he had been harshly treated, and almost driven out of 
 society ; he was living in retirement." The others spoke 
 kindly of him. 
 
 November 1st. — After a short visit to Anthony Robinson, 
 came to chambers and slept for the first time in my own bed. 
 I felt a little uncomfortable at the reflection of my solitude, 
 but also some satisfaction at the thought that I was at least 
 independent and at home. I have not yet collected around 
 me all that even I deem comforts, but I shall find my wants 
 
.813.] LETTER FROM COLERIDGE. 271 
 
 very few, I believe, if I except those arising from the desire 
 to appear respectable, not to say wealthy, in the eyes of the 
 world. 
 
 November 12th. — In the evening a party at Anthony Robin- 
 son's. The Lambs were there, and Charles seemed to enjoy 
 himself We played cards, and at the close of the evening he 
 dryly said to Mrs. Robinson : '^ I have enjoyfed the evening 
 much, which I do not often do at people's houses." 
 
 November 15th, — Called on Madame de Stael, to whom I 
 had some civil things to say about her book, which she received 
 with less than an author's usual self-complacence ; but she 
 manifested no readiness to correct some palpable omissions and 
 mistakes I began pointing out to her. And when I suggested 
 that, in her account of Goethe's " Triumph " (der Empfind- 
 samkeit), she had mistaken the plot, she said : " Perhaps I 
 thought it better as I stated it ! " 
 
 She confessed that in her selection of books to notice she 
 was guided by A. W. Schlegel ; otherwise, she added, a whole 
 life would not have been sufficient to collect such information. 
 This confession was not necessary for me. She says she is 
 about to write a book on the French Revolution and on the 
 state of England, in which she means to show that all the 
 calamities which have arisen in France proceeded from not 
 following the English constitution. She says' she has a num- 
 ber of questions to put to me concerning the English law, and 
 which she is to reduce to writing. We talked on politics. She 
 still thinks that unless Buonaparte fall he will find means to 
 retrieve his fortune. Perhaps she is still influenced by French 
 sentiments in conceiving that Buonaparte must be victorious 
 at last if he persist in the war. But she is nevertheless a 
 bigoted admirer of our government, which she considers to be 
 perfect ! 
 
 Coleridge to H. C. R. 
 
 Monday Morning, December 7, 1812. 
 Excuse me for again repeating my request to you, to use 
 your best means as speedily as possible to procure for me (if 
 possible) the perusal of Goethe's work on Light and Color.* 
 In a thing I have now on hand it would be of very important 
 service to me; at the same time do not forget Jacobi to Fichte,t 
 
 * " Goethe's Theory of Colors. Translated from the German; v^'ih Notes 
 by Charles Lock Eastlake, R. A., F. R. S." London, 1840. 
 t Jacobi's " Sendschrelben an Fichte." 
 
272 KKMD^ISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 and whatever other work may have bearings on the Neuere, 
 neueste, und allerneueste Filosotie. It is my hope and pur- 
 pose to devote a certain portion of my time for the next 
 twelve months to theatrical attempts, and chiefly to the melo- 
 drama, or comic opera kind ; and from Goethe (from what I 
 read of his Httle Singspiele in the volume which you lent me) 
 I expect no trifling assistance, especially in the songs, airs, &c., 
 and the happy mode of introducing them. In my frequent 
 conversations with W. (a composer and music-seller), I could 
 not find that he or the music-sellers in general had any knowl- 
 edge of those compositions, which are so deservedly dear to 
 the German public. As soon as I can disembarrass myself, I 
 shall make one sturdy effort to understand music myself, so 
 far at least of the science as goes to the composition of a sim- 
 ple air. For I seem frequently to form such in my own mind, 
 to my inner ear. When you write to Bury, do not forget to 
 assure Mrs. Clarkson of my never altered and unalterable 
 esteem and affection. 
 
 S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 December SOth. — After dinner a rubber at Lamb's ; then 
 went with Lamb and Burney to Eickman's. Hazlitt there. 
 Cards, as usual, were our amusement. Lamb was in a pleas- 
 ant mood. Rickman produced one of Chatterton's forgeries. 
 In one manuscript there were seventeen different kinds of e's. 
 " 0," said Lamb, " that must have been written by one of the 
 
 Mob of gentlemen who write with ease." 
 
 December Slst. — Spent the evening at Flaxman's. A New 
 V'ear's party. It consisted only of the Pordens, some of Mrs. 
 Flaxman's family, and one or two others. We were comforta- 
 ble enough without being outrageously merry. Flaxman, of 
 all the great men I ever knew, plays the child with the most 
 grace. He is infinitely amiable, without losing any of his 
 respectability. It is obvious that his is the relaxation of a 
 superior mind, without, however, any of the ostentation of 
 condescension. We stayed late, and the New Year found us 
 enjoying ourselves. 
 
X814.] KEAN'S BICHARD UL 273 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 1814. 
 
 JANUARY ^c^. — Read lately the first volume of ^' John 
 Buncle." * It contains but little that is readable, but that 
 little is very pleasing. The preachments are to be skipped 
 over, but the hearty descriptions of character are very inter- 
 esting from the love with which they are penned. Lamb says, 
 with his usual felicity, that the book is written in better spirits 
 than any book he knows.f Amory's descriptions are in a 
 high style ; his scene-painting is of the first order ; and it is 
 the whimsical mixture of romantic scenery, millennium-hall 
 society, and dry disputation in a quaint style, which gives this 
 book so strange and amusing a character. For instance, John 
 Buncle meets a lady in a sort of Rosamond's bower studying 
 Hebrew. He is smitten with her charms, declares his love to 
 " glorious Miss Noel," and when, on account of so slight an ac- 
 quaintance, — that of an hour, — she repels him (for his love 
 had been kindled only by a desperately learned speech of hers 
 on the paradisiacal language), and threatens to leave him, he ex- 
 claims, " 0, I should die were you to leave me ; therefore, if 
 you please, we will discourse of the miracle of Babel." And 
 then follows a long dialogue on the confusion of tongues, in 
 which " illustrious Miss Noel " bears a distinguished part. 
 
 March 7th. — At Drury Lane, and saw Kean for the first 
 time. He played Richard, I believe, better than any man I 
 ever saw ; yet my expectations were pitched too high, and I 
 had not the pleasure I expected. The expression of malignant 
 joy is the one in which he surpasses all men I have ever seen. 
 And his most flagrant defect is want of dignity. His face is 
 finely expressive, though his mouth is not handsome, and he 
 projects his lower lip ungracefully ; yet it is finely suited to 
 
 * The " Life of John Buncle, Esq. ; containing various Observations and 
 Eeflections made in several Parts of the World, and many extraordinary Rela- 
 tions." By Thomas Amory. Hollis, 1766. Two vols. 
 
 t '• John (says Leigh Hunt) is a kind of innocent Henry the Eighth of pri- 
 vate life, without the other's fat, fuiy, and solemnity. He' is a prodigous hand 
 at matrimony, at divinity, at a song, at a loud ' hem,' and at a turkey and 
 chine." 
 
 In No. 10 of Leigh Hunt's London Journal (June 4, 1834), there is an abstract 
 of " John Buncle." 
 
 12=* 
 
27i REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 Richard. He gratified my eye more than my ear. His action 
 very often was that of Kemble, and this was not the w^orst of 
 his performance ; but it detracts from his boasted originaHty. 
 His declamation is very unpleasant, but my ear may in time 
 be reconciled to it, as the palate is to new cheese and tea. It 
 often reminds me of Blanchard's. His speech is not fluent, 
 and his words and syllables are too distinctly separated. His 
 finest scene was with Lady Anne, and his mode of lifting up 
 her veil to w^atch her countenance was exquisite. The con- 
 cluding scene was unequal to my expectation, though the fen- 
 cing was elegant, and his sudden death-fall was shockingly real. 
 But he should have lain still. Why does he rise, or awake 
 rather, to repeat the spurious lines "l He did not often excite 
 a strong persuasion of the truth of his acting, and the applause 
 he received was not very great. Mrs. Glover had infinitely 
 more in the pathetic scene in which she, as Queen Elizabeth, 
 parts from her children. To recur to Kean, I do not think 
 he will retain all his popularity, but he may learn to deserve 
 it better, though I think he will never be qualified for heroic 
 parts. He wants a commanding figure and a powerful voice. 
 His greatest excellences are a fine pantomimic face and re- 
 markable agility. 
 
 March 26th, — I read Stephens's ^^ Life of Home Tooke." 
 All the anecdotes respecting him, as well as his letters, are ex- 
 cellent. They raise a favorable impression of his integrity, 
 and yet this stubborn integrity was blended with so impas- 
 sioned a hatred, that it is difficult to apportion the praise 
 and reproach which his admirers and enemies, v/ith perhaps 
 equal injustice, heap upon him. 
 
 April 10th, — Went early to the cofiee-room. To-day it was 
 fully confirmed that Buonaparte had voluntarily abdicated the 
 thrones of France and Italy, and thus at once, as by the stroke 
 of an enchanter's wand, the revolutionary government of 
 France, after tormenting the world for nearly twenty-five 
 years, has quietly yielded up its breath. 
 
 April 12th. — Again at the coffee-room in the morning, 
 though now the public papers must of necessity decline in in- 
 terest. There must follow the winding up of accounts, and 
 there may arise disputes in the appropriation of territory and 
 in the fixing of constitutions ; but no serious obstacle in the 
 way of peace is to be apprehended. My wish is that means 
 could be found, without violating the honor of the allies, to 
 break the treaty so imprudently made with that arch-knave 
 
I 
 
 1814.] PROSPECTS OF EUROPE. 275 
 
 Murat. Bernadotte ought to retain his crown, but I should 
 be glad to see Norway succeed in emancipating herself from 
 his dominion, so unworthily obtained. Saxony ought to revert 
 to the house which lost it during the wars produced by the 
 Reformation, and the Duke of Weimar deserves to succeed to his 
 ancestors. Poland has no chance of regaining her indepen- 
 dence, and perhaps would not be able to make use of it. Russia 
 will descend deeper into Europe than I can contemplate with' 
 out anxiety, notwithstanding the actual merits of her Emperor. 
 Prussia I wish to see mistress of all Protestant Germany ; and 
 it would give me joy to see the rest of Germany swallowed up 
 by Austria j but this will not be. The Empire will, I fear, be 
 restored, and with it the foundation laid for future wars of in- 
 trigue. France will resume her influence over Europe ; and 
 this is the one evil I apprehend from the restoration of the 
 Bourbons, — that the jealousy which ought to survive against 
 France, as France, will sleep in the ashes of the Napoleon dy- 
 nasty. Such are my wishes, hopes, fears, and expectations. 
 
 The counter-revolution in France has not gratified our van- 
 ity. It comes like a blessing of Providence or a gift of 
 nature, and these are received with quiet gratitude. Hence 
 the want of enthasiasm in the public mind, although the gen- 
 eral sentiment is joy. Cobbett and Sir Richard Phillips* alone 
 express sorrow^, and the Morning Chronicle betrays an unpa- 
 triotic spirit. Of my own personal acquaintance, only Will 
 Hazlitt and poor Capel Lofft are among the malecontents. 
 
 May 7 ill. — Took tea at Flaxman's. He spoke highly of 
 the great variety of talents possessed by Lawrence. On occa- 
 sion of the contest for the professorship of painting between 
 Opie and Fuseli, Flaxman says, LawTcnce made an extempore 
 speech in support of Fuseli better than any speech he (Flax- 
 man) ever heard. "^ But," said Flaxman, '' Lawrence's powers 
 are almost his ruin. He is ever in company. One person ad- 
 mires his singing, another his reading, another his conversa- 
 tional talents, and he is overwhelmed with engagements. I 
 have heard Hazlitt say, '' No good talker will ever labor enough 
 to become a good painter." 
 
 May 15th, — Called on the Colliers. I am glad to feel that 
 there is a return of cordiality which had been on the decline 
 between me and these old friends. There is so much positive 
 pleasure in every kindly feeling, that certainly it is not wisdom 
 
 * The author and bookseller. He was editor and proprietor of the MonUiJy 
 Magazine^ and was the compiler of many popular volumes. 
 
 m 
 
276 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 to criticise whether it is justified. Friendship, more assuredly 
 than virtue, is its own reward. Lamb and his sister -were 
 there, and expressed great kindness towards me, which gave 
 me much pleasure. They are, indeed, among the very best of 
 persons. Their moral quahties are as distinguished as their 
 intellectual. 
 
 May- 19th. — I accompanied Anthony and Mrs. Robinson to 
 Drury Lane to see Kean play Othello. The long trial of wait- 
 ing before the door having been endured, the gratification was 
 very great. Of all the characters in which I have yet seen 
 Kean, Othello is the one for which by nature he is the least 
 qualified ; yet it is the one in which he has most delighted 
 me. Kean has little grace or beauty in mere oratorical decla- 
 mation, but in the bursts of passion he surpasses any male 
 actor I ever saw. His delivery of the speech in which he says, 
 " Othello's occupation 's gone," was as pathetic as a lover's fare- 
 well to his mistress. I could hardly keep from crying ; it was 
 pure feeling. In the same scene the expression of rage is in- 
 imitable. 
 
 Alay 26th. — Dined with Mr. George Young.* A large 
 party. Present were Dr. Spurzheim, now the lion of the day, 
 as the apostle of craniology, — ten years ago he was the famu- 
 lus of the discoverer Gall ; Mason Good, poet, lecturer, and sur- 
 geon ; Drs. Gooch and Parke ; my friend Hamond ; Charles 
 Young, the rival of Kean at Covent Garden, and another broth- 
 er of our host ; Ayton, an attorney ; and Westall, the R. A. 
 Spurzheim appeared to advantage as the opponent of Mason 
 Good, who was wordy, and I thought opposed close intellectual 
 reasoning by a profusion of technicalities. Spurzheim preached 
 from the skulls of several of us, and was tolerably successful 
 in his guesses, though not with me, for he gave me theosophy, 
 and tried to make a philosopher of me. To Hamond he gave 
 the organs of circumspection and the love of children. To 
 Charles Young that of representation, but he probably knew 
 he was an actor. 
 
 May 27th, — The forenoon at the Old Bailey Sessions. 
 Walked back with Stephen.t He related that Eomilly thinks 
 Lord Eldon one of the profoundest and most learned lawyers 
 who ever lived ; yet he considers his infirmity as a practical 
 doubter so fatal, that he infinitely prefers Erskine as a Chan- 
 
 * An emment suro:eon, of whom more hereafter. 
 
 t The emancipationist. He was brother-in-law to Wilberforce, and the 
 father of the late Sir James Stephen, the Professor of History. 
 
 I 
 
1814.] LORD COCHRANE. 277 
 
 cellor. Though his mind and legal habits are of so different a 
 class," his good sense and power of prompt decision enable him 
 to administer justice usefully. 
 
 June 18th. — This was a high festival in the City, the corpora- 
 tion giving a superb entertainment to the Prince Regent and 
 his visitors, the Emperor of Russia, King of Prussia, &c. Took 
 a hasty dinner at Collier's, and then witnessed the procession 
 from Fleet Street. It was not a gratifying spectacle, for there 
 was no continuity in the scene ; but some of the distinct ob- 
 jects were interesting. The Royal carriages were splendid, but 
 my ignorance of the individuals who filled them prevented my 
 having much pleasure. My friend Mrs. W. Pattisson brought 
 her boys to see the sight, and she did wisely, for she has en- 
 riched their memories with recollections which time will exalt 
 to great value. It will in their old age be a subject of great 
 pleasure that at the ages of eleven and ten they beheld the 
 persons of the greatest sovereigns of the time, and witnessed 
 the festivities consequent on the peace which fixed (may it 
 prove so !) the independence and repose of Europe. 
 
 June 21st, — Again in the King-'s Bench. The sentence of 
 the pillory was passed against Lord Cochrane and others for a 
 fraud to raise the price of stock by spreading false news. The 
 severity of the sentence has turned public opinion in favor of 
 his Lordship, and they who first commiserated him began after- 
 w^ards to think him innocent. His appearance to-day was cer- 
 tainly pitiable. When the sentence was passed he stood with- 
 out color in his face, his eye staring and without expression ; 
 and w^hen he left the court it was with difficulty, as if he were 
 stupefied.* 
 
 June 29th. — Called on Lamb in the evening. Found him 
 as delighted as a child with a garret he had appropriated and 
 adorned with all the copper-plate engravings he could collect, 
 having rifled every book he possesses for the purpose. It was 
 pleasant to observe his innocent delight. Schiller says all 
 great men have a childlikeness in their nature. 
 
 * Lord Dundonald, in a note to an extract from Campbell's " Lives of the 
 Chief Justices,'' where it is mentioned that he was sentenced to stand in the 
 pillory, says : — 
 
 " This vindictive sentence the government did not dare carry out. My high- 
 minded colleague, Sir Francis Burdett, told the government that, if the sen- 
 tence was carried into effect, he would stand inthe pillory beside me, when 
 they must look to the consequences. What these might have been, in the 
 then excited state of the public mind, as regarded my treatment, the reader 
 may gues';." — The Autobiography of a Seaman. Bv Thomas, Tenth Earl 
 of Dundonald, G. C. B. Second edition. London, 186i. Vol. 11. p. 322, note. 
 
278 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17 
 
 July Sd. — A day of great pleasure. Charles Lamb and I 
 walked to Enfield by Southgate, after an early breakfast in 
 his chambers. A¥e were most hosi)itably received by Anthony 
 Robinson and his wife. After tea, Lamb and I retiu-ned. The 
 whole day most delightfully fine, and the scenery very agreea- 
 ble. Lamb cared for the walk more than the scenery, for the 
 enjoyment of which he seems to have no great susceptibility. 
 His great delight, even in preference to a country walk, is a 
 stroll in London. The shops and the busy streets, such as 
 Thames Street, Bankside, <fec., are his great favorites. He, 
 for the same reason, has no great relish for landscape painting. 
 But his relish for historic painting is exquisite. Lamb's 
 peculiarities are very interesting. We had not much con- 
 versation, — he hummed tunes, I repeated Wordsworth's 
 ^* Daffodils," of which I am become very fond. Lamb praised 
 T. Warton's " Sonnet in Dugdale" as of first-rate excellence.* 
 It is a good thought, but I find nothing exquisite in it. He 
 praised Prior's courtly poems, — his " Down Hall," — his fine 
 application of the names of Marlborough, so as to be offensive 
 in the ears of Boileau. 
 
 July Jfth, — Took early tea with Flaxman, to whom I read 
 an admirable criticism by Hazlitt on West's picture of the 
 " Rejection of Christ." A bitter and severe but most excellent 
 performance. Flaxman was constrained to admit the high 
 talent of the criticism, though he was unaffectedly pained by 
 its severity ; but he was himself offended by West's attempt 
 to represent this sacred subject. 
 
 July 6th. — Dr. Tiarks t breakfasted with me, and we spent 
 an hour and a half very pleasantly. Tiarks says that he 
 understands Buonaparte said to the Austrian commissioner, 
 " The King of Saxony is the honestest king in Europe. If the 
 allies dethrone him, they will do a more tyrannical act than I 
 ever did. I have dethroned many kings in my time, but I was 
 a parvenu, and it was necessary for my safety. The old legiti- 
 mate sovereigns should act on other principles." 
 
 July 29th. — Mr. Wakefield called on me with Jeremy Ben- 
 tham's " Panopticon," and he occupied me till one o'clock. 
 
 * This Sonnet was " Written in a Blank Leaf of Dugdale s * Monasticon.' " 
 t A Frieslander by birth, he became a candidate in theology at Gottingen, 
 but had notice that he had been drawn as a conscript, and would be seized as 
 such. Flying from the army, he begged his way to England, where he main- 
 tained himself lirst as a private librarian to Sir Joseph Banks, and afterwards, 
 with considerable success, as a teacher of German, Greek, and mathematics. — 
 H. C. R. 
 
1814.] JEREMY BENTHAM. — KASTNER. 279 
 
 Wakefield belongs to Jeremy Bentham's select society. He is 
 voted nobody^ i. e. free of the house. He gives an interesting 
 account of the philosopher's abode, where a Panopticon school 
 is to be erected. Bentham's constant inmates are Koe, whom 
 I have seen, and Mill, whom I dined with at Hamond's, and 
 whom Wakefield represents as one of the gTcatest men of 
 the present day. He is writing a history of India. Wakefield 
 says that Bentham has considerable respect for Hamond's un- 
 derstanding. 
 
 July 31st. — Read Bentham's " Panopticon " and first Ap- 
 pendix. All that respected the moral economy of his plan 
 interested me greatly, but for want of plates I could not 
 comprehend the mechanical structure. The book is (as all 
 Bentham's are) full of original and very valuable matter. 
 But it would possibly have had more effect if it had con- 
 tained fewer novelties in substance and in language. Men 
 are prepared to oppose when novelty is ostentatiously an- 
 nounced. 
 
 August 13th. — (At Norwich.) Accompanied some friends 
 to the theatre. The actors did not edify me. Stole out to 
 call on Madge, at whose apartments I found the great new 
 poem of Wordsworth, '' The Excursion." I could only look 
 into the preface and read a few extracts with Madge. It is a 
 poem of formidable size, and I fear too mystical to be popular. 
 It will, however, put an end to the sneers of those who con- 
 sider, or aff'ect to consider, him puerile. But it will possibly 
 draw on him the imputation of dulness. Still, I trust it will 
 strengthen the zeal of his few friends. My anxiety is great to 
 read it. 
 
 August 18th. — Tiarks brought Kastner to me. Kastner is 
 an enthusiast, but his enthusiasm impels to action, and it is ac- 
 companied by talent of very high rank and great variety. 
 Having distinguished himself as a chemist, he became Yolks- 
 redner (orator for the people) ; and he is now striving to in- 
 terest the government in favor of freemasonry, in order to 
 oppose priestcraft, which he thinks is reviving. He also con- 
 ducted a newspaper, and assisted in raising the Prussian 
 Landwehr. Having fought with this body in France, he 
 came to England to solicit a grant out of the contributions 
 for the Germans in favor of the Landwehr. Though every 
 one thought his attempts vain, he has succeeded in obtaining 
 £ 1,000, and hopes for much more, out of the Parliamentary 
 grant. 
 
280 BEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 H. C. K. TO Mrs. Pattisson. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, July 27, 1814. 
 
 My dear Friend, — Though my own plans were in some 
 measure disarranged by it, I was sincerely glad to hear that 
 you had resolved to undertake the northern journey. I trust 
 it has proved to you a source of other pleasures than those 
 for the sake of which you made it. The reward which Solo- 
 mon received for a wise choice of the blessings of life I have 
 
 very frequently seen conferred on a small scale I should 
 
 be very glad if some accident were to bring you acquainted 
 with any of the Stansfelds. That is so highly estimable a 
 family, that I could almost consider myself the friend of every 
 member of it, meaning only to express my very peculiar esteem 
 for them 
 
 I have just risen from the perusal of the most admirable 
 discourse on friendship which I believe was ever penned. It 
 is a sort of sermon without a text by Jeremy Tajdor ; so de- 
 lightful that, if I had no other means of conveying it to you, 
 I think I could almost walk to Witham from Bury with the 
 folio volume containing it in my hand, in order to have the 
 delight of reading it to you. Though it is arrant pedantry to 
 fill a letter with quotations, T cannot resist the temptation of 
 quoting two or three golden sayings. 
 
 Soame Jenyns, you may recollect, vindicates Christianity for 
 excluding from its system those false virtues, patriotism, valor, 
 and friendship ! ! ! This very insidious paradox — in effect, 
 not intention, I mean — is as to friendship, with equal truth 
 and beauty, thus exhibited by Jeremy Taylor : " By friend- 
 ship you mean the greatest love, the greatest usefulness, and 
 the most open communication, and the noblest sufferings, and 
 the severest truth, and the heartiest counsel, and the greatest 
 union of minds, of which brave men and women are capable. 
 But then I must tell you that Christianity hath new christened 
 
 it, and called it charity Christian charity is friendship to 
 
 all the world. And when friendships were the noblest things 
 in the world " (referring, I suspect, to Cicero, <fec.), " charity 
 was little like the sun drawn in at a chink, or his beams drawn 
 into the centre of a burning-glass ; but Christian charity is 
 friendship expanded, like the face of the sun when it mounts 
 the eastern hills." Still, the individual appropriation of love 
 was to be explained ; he therefore goes on : " There is enough 
 in every man that is willing to make him become our friend, 
 
KASTNER. ^^^^^^^ 281 
 
 but where men contract friendships they enclose the commons, 
 and what nature intended should be every man's, we make 
 proper to two or three." In these lines are contained all the 
 ideas necessary to a development of friendship speculatively. 
 The following sentences are gems : '^ He that does a base 
 thing in zeal for his friend burns the golden thread that ties 
 their hearts together." " Secrecy is the chastity of friend- 
 ship." ^' Friendship is charity in society." 
 
 If I can, I will take a bait at Witham on my way from 
 Norwich to London ; but I do not know that I can stay even 
 a day with you. One circumstance may call me to town earlier 
 than I might otherwise have thought necessary. I have 
 received some letters from a most amiable and worthy man, a 
 Jena acquaintance, who has made a journey to London, in 
 order to solicit relief for a particular class of sufferers. — the 
 Prussian Landwehr. He seems to expect great assistance from 
 me, and it will be a painful task to me to show him that I can 
 do nothing. He is a benevolent Quixote. He has written me 
 an account of his life, and his sufferings and pathetic tale will 
 interest you. He is made up of love of every kind, — to his 
 wife and children, to his country, for which he fought, and to 
 religion, to which he seems devotedly attached. I wrote to 
 Aders to offer Kastner my chambers during my absence ; but 
 Aders has procured him a lodging at six shillings a week. 
 Kastner has luckily met with my friends in town. 
 
 You will expect to hear of the success of my Sessions Circuit. 
 It was not so productive as I expected, from the retirement of 
 Twiss, but this was more from the want of business than from 
 the preference of others before me. At Norwich and Bury, I 
 had more than my reasonable share of business. At Bury, 
 not even Alderson held a brief, or had a motion ; the very 
 little was divided between Storks and myself, I taking a third. 
 However, my individual success is great, though the decline of 
 professional business in general is enough to alarm a man now 
 entering into it. Lawyers have had their day ! 
 
 Your affectionate Friend, 
 
 H. C. HOBINSON. 
 
 Rem,* — During my fifteen years at the bar, I relieved my- 
 self from the dulness of a London professional life by annual 
 excursions, of all of which I kept Journals. In collecting 
 reminiscences from them, I shall for the most part omit de- 
 
 * Written in 1850. 
 
282 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, [Chap. 17. 
 
 scriptions of places, and confine myself to the persons I saw. 
 The present journey in France immediately followed that great 
 event, the restoration of the French monarchy, after twenty- 
 five years of revolution. 
 
 August 26th, — Arrived at Eouen in the evening, and heard 
 that Mademoiselle Duchesnois was to perform. Tired and 
 even hungry as I was, I instantly set out for the theatre, and 
 went into the pit, which had no seats, and where the audience 
 was very low. The play was the " Hamlet," not of Shake- 1 
 
 speare but of Ducis, and therefore the first impression was a 
 very mixed one. On my entrance Duchesnois, as Queen, was 
 relating to her confidante the history of her two marriages. 
 So much I could understand, and that was all ; and this an- 
 noyed me. Then the actress herself was really ugly. But, in 
 spite of all this, such is the power of real talent, that in a 
 very short time I caught myself violently applauding. Of the 
 actress's declamation I was no judge, but of course it was 
 good, as the French are inexorable on this point. I could, 
 however, feel the truthfulness of her expression of passion. 
 Her tones were pathetic. Yet there must be something con- 
 ventional in such things. Of the other actors I have nothing 
 to say ; nor of the play, but that it is truly French. The 
 unities are preserved, and Hamlet is victorious. No more 
 need be said. But what was more remarkable than the play 
 was the display of national feeling. At Dieppe, indeed, the 
 children had shouted after us in the street, ^^ Allez vous en " ; 
 and in the scene in which Shakespeare has but a poor joke 
 about the English being mad, Ducis has substituted a line of 
 grave reproach, — 
 
 " L'Angleterre fut toujours dans les crimes f^conde." 
 
 On this the fellows who were next me all turned their faces 
 towards me and clapped lustily. I may mention that, after 
 dinner, as I was walking, I stopped to talk with a peasant, 
 who laid down his tool and jumped over a ditch to chat with 
 me. He was a strong anti-revolutionist. The good king, he 
 said, must take care to disband his army, or he would never 
 be safe. The army are friendly to the Emperor, their opin- 
 ions about him having a great deal of a professional char- 
 acter. 
 
 August 29tlu — I went by the lower road to Paris in a dili- 
 gence through St. Germains, &c., and arrived at Paris the next 
 day ; and an accident led me at once to a decent hotel in the 
 
1814.] PARIS AFTER THE RESTORATION. 283 
 
 Rue Montmartre. Fortunately for me, Mr. Clarkson is here, 
 hoping by personal intercourse with the Emperor of Russia, 
 Duke of Wellington, &c., to obtain some stringent measures to 
 enforce the abolition of the slave-trade. Mrs. Clarkson is with 
 him. 
 
 September 1st. — I walked with John Thelwall and his party 
 to the famous Chateau or prison of Yincennes, being intro- 
 duced to the governor by the curate. We afterwards dined at 
 a restaurant and walked back. As we reached the harriere, 
 Thelwall discovered that he had lost his purse, containing 
 about twenty napoleons. He recollected taking it out of his 
 pocket to pay for the dinner. We all returned with him to the 
 hotel ; the house was shut. On knocking, a chamber window 
 was opened, and we heard a female voice exclaim, " Ah ! ce 
 sont Messieurs les Anglais, pour la bourse ! " The maid and 
 her mistress came down together ; the former, who had found 
 the purse on the table, had it in her hand, with an expression 
 of great joy at being able to restore it ; and she received 
 Thelwall's present very becomingly. 
 
 September 2d, — I accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson to 
 the library of the institution at the Quatre Nations, where I 
 was introduced to the celebrated ex-Bishop of Blois, Gregoire, 
 leader of the society of the Amis des Noirs, which made him 
 the close ally of Clarkson. 
 
 Rem* — I acquired the privilege of calling on Gregoire on 
 my future visits to Paris, and generally availed myself of it. 
 The impression he made on me to-day was not removed by the 
 disgrace cast on him afterwards. He seemed to me to be a 
 kind-hearted, benevolent man, with no great strength of under- 
 standing, and somewhat of a petit-maitre in his habits. 
 
 September Jftli. — I accompanied the Thelwall party to the 
 Louvre, and thence to the house of David, who was there the 
 exhibitor of his own paintings. Whether it was because I 
 knew him to have been the friend of Robespierre, and a mem- 
 ber of the Revolutionary tribunal, or not, I cannot say, but 
 his countenance seemed to me to express ferocity. It was de- 
 formed by a harelip. 
 
 September 7th. — The consecration of the colors of the Na- 
 tional Guard, at which attended the King and all the authori- 
 ties of Paris, was of course not to be neglected. The applause 
 given to the King was faint. From a few there were loud 
 cries. One voice was remarkable, and I recognized it on 
 
 several days. 
 
 ♦ Written in 1850. 
 
284 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 September 8th. — I had the satisfaction of recognizing Talley- 
 rand from his resemblance to the engravings of him. The 
 expression of his countenance as he passed was, I thought, 
 that of a voluptuary and a courtier, rather than that of a poli- 
 tician and man of business. He spoke to his coachman in an 
 arrogant tone. His thin legs and sorry figure below the waist 
 hardly -justify the term cripple ; but I looked for and perceived 
 the club-foot, to remove all doubt as to his identity. I fancy 
 I can judge better of Talleyrand's character from having had a 
 glimpse of his person. ^ 
 
 September 9th, — My brother was with me at the Theatre 
 Frangais, and I was amused by being asked twice whether he 
 was not " le grand tragique Kemble, — celui qui joue les pre- 
 mieres roles a Londres." The inquirers seemed to disbelieve 
 my denial. 
 
 September 10th and 11th, — These days were distinguished 
 by my being in the company of one of the most remarkable 
 men of the French Revolution, General La Fayette. By no 
 means one of the ablest or greatest, but I believe, in intention 
 at least, one of the best ; and one who has been placed in po- 
 sitions both of danger and of show at critical moments beyond 
 every other individual. Of all the revolutionary leaders, he is 
 the one of whom I think most favorably ; and my favorable 
 impression was enhanced by what I heard from him. I was 
 with Mr. Clarkson when La Fayette called on him, and I was 
 greatly surprised at his appearance. I expected to see an in- 
 firm old man, on whose countenance I should trace the marks 
 of suffering from long imprisonment and cruel treatment. I 
 saw a hale man with a florid complexion, and no signs of age 
 about him. In fact, he is fifty-seven years old, his reddish 
 complexion clear, his body inclining to be stout. His tone of 
 conversation is staid, and he has not the vivacity commonly 
 ascribed to Frenchmen. There is apparently nothing enthu- 
 siastic about him. 
 
 The slave-trade was the subject which brought the General 
 and Clarkson together, and it engrossed, I thought, too much 
 of the conversation. La Fayette confirmed Clarkson's opinion, 
 that the Emperor of Russia was perfectly sincere and even 
 zealous in the wish which he expressed at Madame de Stael's, in 
 opposition to the Portuguese Minister, to secure the abolition 
 of the slave-trade. He also gave credit to Talleyrand for his 
 sincerity in the same wish ; " But certainly," said La Fayette, g 
 
 " he is not an enthusiast in anything." Among the subjects of J 
 
1814.J LAFAYETTE AND BUONAPARTE. 285 
 
 reproach against Buonaparte was his restoration of slavery; 
 and La Fayette imputed to him an artifice by which he had 
 made it appear that La Fayette had sold slaves. He had pur- 
 chased an estate in order to assist the abolition, and when 
 slavery was abolished by law, he sold the estate, and the nota- 
 ry put the word slaves into the contract. La Fayette refused 
 to sign unless the word was erased. " But," said the notary, 
 " if there are none, the word has no effect, and no one can tell 
 what may happen." La Fayette inferred from this that the 
 scheme to restore slavery was formed, which did soon take 
 place. And though he had done all he could by law to declare 
 these slaves free, they were made slaves at last. 
 
 I was particularly desirous of hearing from La Fayette him- 
 self some account of the relation in which he stood towards 
 Buonaparte, and of knowing his opinion of the Emperor. In 
 this I was gratified. He related that, after enduring a severe 
 imprisonment of three years in an Austrian dungeon,* on 
 which he seemed unwilling to enlarge, he was at last set at 
 liberty because the French Directory refused to discuss the 
 terms of the treaty at Leoben until he and his friends were 
 released. Buonaparte was one of the commissioners in making 
 that treaty, and he executed his orders with firmness. La 
 Fayette went at first to Hamburg, and would not proceed at 
 once to Paris, because a declaration was required of him which 
 he could not make. At the time of the negotiations about 
 him the revolution of Fructidor took place, when two of the 
 Directory were sent to Cayenne. " Now," said La Fayette, 
 ^' I was called upon to make such an acknowledgment as would 
 give all the credit of my release to those remaining in power. 
 This I refused." This would have given the men then in 
 power all the eclat of his deliverance. But on the revolution 
 which made Buonaparte First Consul, he went to Paris without 
 a passport. He had scarcely arrived when he was waited upon 
 by — I doubt whether Duroc or Caulaincourt, who said that 
 the First Consul wished him to return to Hamburg secretly, 
 in order that he might show his high esteem for him by calling 
 him back in a formal manner. '' I saw through the trick," 
 said La Fayette, " and would not be a party to it. I there- 
 fore said that I had come back because I had a right, being a 
 Frenchman who had committed no crime ; that if the chief 
 magistrate commanded me to go I would obey. I was told 
 that the First Consul meant only to do me honor. Though 
 
 * In the fortress of Olmutz in Moravia. 
 
2SG REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. | 
 
 I had defeated his scheme of doing an act of ostentations dis- \ 
 
 play, he received me with politeness ; and for a time I was | 
 
 deceived, bnt not long, and I never concealed my opinion of 
 him. I saw him eight or ten times on business, and at a fete 
 given by Joseph Buonaparte on the peace between France and 
 America (for the Directory had made a war as foolish as your 
 present war with America) we had some conversation. He as- 
 sured me that his designs were all in favor of liberty, and that 
 whatever might appear to be otherwise would be only tempo- 
 rary expedients. I answered that it was the direction (tenden- 
 cy) of some of his actions that I disapproved of more than of the 
 actions themselves. On another occasion Buonaparte said to 
 me, ' You see the French are tired of liberty.* I answered, 
 ' They are tired of licentiousness, and what they have suffered 
 from the abuse of liberty makes them more anxious to have 
 real liberty, and more fit to enjoy it ; and this. Citizen First 
 Consul, the French expect from you.' Buonaparte turned 
 away, but in a few minutes came back and talked on indifferent 
 subjects. After this I retired into the country, and took no 
 share in public business. Buonaparte afterwards tried to in- 
 volve me in some sham plot, but my entire seclusion rendered 
 that impossible. When Buonaparte returned from Russia he 
 made a speech, in which he spoke of the antimonarchical prin- 
 ciples of the first authors of the Revolution, which made them 
 impede the measm*es of the government, alluding to, but not 
 naming, me." 
 
 I have pleasure in wi'iting down these recollections of La 
 Fayette's words, because they are distinct, and because they 
 disprove what has been falsely asserted by the partisans of 
 Buonaparte, that La Fayette was reconciled to him. 
 
 Of the future, La Fayette spoke with a hope which it gratified 
 me to hear, and he spoke respectfully of the royal family then 
 restored. On general subjects I have a few notes worth abridg- 
 ing. He asserted that the manners of the French, especially 
 the lower classes, had been improved by the Revolution ; that 
 the mob of France were less violent than an English mob ; 
 and the common people he thought more honest. This he as- 
 cribed to the Revolution. 
 
 La Fayette is a strong partisan of America, as opposed to 
 England. He is strongly opposed to our maritime claims, and 
 thinks we might concede these in return for the renunciation 
 of the slave-trade by other powers. 
 
 On my relating that, at the distribution of the colors, I 
 
1814.] THE FRIENDS OF THE NEGRO. 287 
 
 heard some exclamations of "Vive I'Empereur," La Fayette 
 said : " You are not to suppose that this proceeded from love 
 to Buonaparte. It was only a mode of showing dissatisfaction 
 with the present state of things, and because it would not do 
 to crv ' A bas le roi,' or ^ A bas les ministeres.' " 
 
 Of Spanish America he said that Jefferson was of opinion 
 that those states would ultimately become independent, but 
 that this would rather retard than advance civilization. 
 
 Rem* — I visited the residence of Josephine at Malmaison, 
 which has left a more distinct impression on my mind than 
 the other regal palaces of the capital. One picture there im- 
 pressed me so strongly that I have never forgotten it. Of the 
 artistic merits I know nothing. It was a prison scene. A 
 man in chains has drawn with chalk a figure of the Virgin and 
 Child, which the other prisoners are worshipping ; that is, 
 they are kneeling, — all except one wretch who is in despair, 
 the officers of justice having come to take him to the gallows. f 
 
 I read also in my Journal a name w^hich brings to my recol- 
 lection a fact omitted in the Journal itself. The name is 
 Count St. Maurice, an elegant cavalier, an emigrant and high- 
 toned royalist, also a warm abolitionist. One day, when I was 
 present, Clarkson saying that he was going to see La Fayette 
 and Gregoire, the Count, in a plaintive rather than reproachful 
 tone, said, " My dear sir, I wish you did not see so much of 
 those people." Clarkson replied, very gravely : " Monsieur le 
 Comte, you forget that, now that I am at Paris, I know but 
 two classes of persons, — the friends and the enemies of Africa. 
 All the friends of Africa are my friends, whatever they may be 
 besides. You and Monsieur La Fayette are the same in my 
 eyes." St. Maurice smiled and said, "I believe you are in 
 the right." 
 
 September 22d. — I was in the grand gallery at the Louvi*e 
 when I heard some one say, '^ Mrs. Siddons is below." I in- 
 stantly left the Raphaels and Titians, and went in search of 
 her, and my Journal says : ^^I am almost ashamed to confess that 
 the sight of her gave me a delight beyond almost any I have 
 received in Paris." I had never seen her so near. She was 
 
 * Written in 1850. 
 
 t " Stella drawing a Picture of the Virgin and Child on his Prison Wall." 
 Painted by Granet, at Rome, in 1810. The picture was purchased by the Em- 
 press, and was afterwards transported to INTunich. It now forms part of the 
 Leuchtenberg Collection, No. 245, and has been engraved by Muxel. Stella, 
 on his arrival in Rome, was aiTCsted, but soon after found innocent and 
 liberated. So late as the end of the eighteenth centuiy, this sketch of the 
 Madonna was shown to travellers in Rome. — G. S. 
 
288 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 walking with Horace Twiss's mother. I kept as near her as I 
 could with decorum, and without appearing to be watching 
 her ; yet there was something about her that disturbed me. 
 So glorious a head ought not to have been covered with a 
 small chip hat. She knit her brows, too, on looking at the 
 pictures, as if to assist a failing sight. But I recognized her 
 fascinating smile with delight, though there was a line or two 
 about her mouth which I thought coarse. 
 
 September 2Sd. — At the Jardin des Plantes with E. Hamond's 
 
 friend, R , and we spent great part of the day together. 
 
 I believe it was not on this, but some other day, when R 
 
 said, "I will call for you to-morrow," I answered, *'I will 
 thank you not to call. I would rather not see anything else 
 with you, and I will tell you frankly why. I am come to 
 Paris to enjoy myself, and that enjoyment needs the accompa- 
 niment of sympathy with others. Now, you dislike every- 
 thing, and find fault with everything. You see nothing which 
 you do not find inferior to what you have seen before. This 
 may be all very true, but it makes me very uncomfortable. I 
 believe, if I were forced to live with you, I should kill myself 
 So I shall be glad to see you in London, but no more in 
 Paris." 
 
 Rem,* — I several times attended French Courts of Justice, 
 and heard both arguments before judges and trials in criminal 
 cases before juries. I have no remark to make on the argu- 
 ments, for I never understood them sufficiently ; and, indeed, 
 I very imperfectly understood the examination of witnesses ; 
 but 1 did understand enough to enable me to come to this con- 
 clusion, that if I were guilty, I should wish to be tried in 
 England, — if innocent, in France. Making this remark once 
 to Southey, he changed the expression, and said : " The English 
 system seems to have for its object that no innocent person 
 should be unjustly found guilty, — the French system, that 
 no criminal should escape." Now, if it be the fact that of the 
 accused by far the greater number are guilty, it will follow 
 that injustice is more frequent in the English than in the 
 French courts. 
 
 It is customary for the admirer of English law to boast of 
 that feature of it which prohibits all attempts to make the 
 prisoner convict himself, as if the state represented in the 
 court had not a right to the truth, and as if a man who had 
 violated the law were privileged through the violation. This 
 
 * Written in 1850. 
 
 I 
 
1814.] FRENCH COURTS OF JUSTICE. 289 
 
 surely betrays want of discrimination. It is right that no 
 violence should be used to compel an answer, because that 
 may as often produce falsehood as truth, — nor is any used in 
 the French courts ; but the prisoner is interrogated as well as 
 the prosecutor and witnesses, and the same means are used to 
 detect falsehood in all. If he refuse to answer, he is made to 
 understand the unfavorable inferences that will be drawn. 
 And this interrogation taking place before the public, no great 
 injustice can be done. On this point I entirely approve of 
 the French practice. 
 
 In another material respect, the practice of the English and 
 the French courts is different. In the French courts, the facts 
 being already known by preliminary proceedings, the prisoners 
 are heard, and then the witnesses are called. Their hearing 
 begins with '' Contez a la cour les faits," — relate the facts to 
 the court, — and then questions follow. This is done in pres- 
 ence of the prisoner, who, if he interrupts, is not silenced or 
 reproved, as he would be in England. I once heard a French 
 prisoner exclaim, ^' You lie ! " An English judge would be in 
 danger of falling into fits at such an outrage. The French 
 President very quietly and even courteously said, " In what 
 does the lie consist 1 " And the answer being given, he went 
 on, ^^ But you yourself said so and so." And afterwards he 
 said, " But if this is a lie, was that a lie too " (stating some- 
 thing else the witness had said) " which you did not contra- 
 dict V In a few minutes the prisoner had involved himself in 
 contradictions which proved his guilt. Who can blame this ] 
 Publicity is unquestionably necessary to secure this practice from 
 abuse, and there may be parts of the preliminary proceedings 
 which, if I were acquainted with them, I might disapprove of. 
 I write only of what I witnessed. 
 
 There is always an advocate (Procureur du Roi) who repre- 
 sents the Crown, and who gives his judgment as between the 
 prosecutor and the accused ; and he retires with the judges.* 
 
 Rem.f — One other particular struck me at once, and I have 
 urged on English lawyers the propriety of its adoption in our 
 courts, — but never with effect, I fear. The prisoner does not 
 Ua)id, but has a little box to himself, with a desk and papers. 
 A soldier, as guard, sits with him. And this box is so placed 
 that he can communicate with his counsel. Our law says 
 
 * My impression respecting the French courts, as compared with the English, 
 has been confirmed by later visits to them. — H. C. R. 
 t Written in 1860. 
 TOL. I. 13 ft 
 
290 REMmiSCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 the accused are to be presumed to be innocent until they are 
 proved guilty ; and yet on their trial they are degraded by 
 being forced to stand, unless they consent to urge a falsehood, 
 as that they are ill. On application, they are always allowed 
 to sit. 
 
 On September 28th I went to the Theatre Frangais, to see 
 the greatest of the French comedians. I abstain from writing 
 of the French theatre, as I do of the public buildings, the 
 galleries of paintings, &c., but I may make exceptions. One 
 is in favor of a great theatrical name, Fleury, whom I have 
 seen several times. He was already aged and near the end of 
 his career, yet he appeared to me to be perfect in a certain 
 class of comic characters. Genteel comedy and aged charac- 
 ters were his department. One rdle made a lasting impression. 
 In the ^' Ecole des Bourgeois," he played a Marquis who is 
 driven to project a mesalliance to recruit his finances ; but a 
 blunder of his servant defeats his plan. He delivers to the 
 vulgar family a letter which is written to the Marquis's friend, 
 the Duke. It begins, " Enfin, ce soir je m'encanaille." The 
 opening of this letter, and the repetition of the words by every 
 one of the party was excellent, especially the spelling of the 
 word eiwanaille by the servant. In the midst of a family of 
 enrages, the Marquis makes his appearance. The gay impu- 
 dence with which he met their rage reminded me of a similar 
 character by Iffland. Though I could not relish French tragedy, 
 I thought the comedy perfection, — and I still think so. Our 
 best comedians are gross caricaturists in comparison. The 
 harmonious keeping and uniformly respectable acting at the 
 Theatre Frangais, even in the absence of their stars, are what 
 give the French stage its superiority over the English. Yet 
 the Frangais had ceased to be popular. The little Boulevard 
 theatres were crowded, while the Frangais was empty. Two 
 admirable low comedians I enjoyed this year at the Porte St. 
 Martin, — Brunet and Pothier. But I did not this time see 
 the two greatest French performers. Talma and Mademoiselle 
 Mars. 
 
 September 29th, — A call on Madame de Stael. She expressed 
 herself strongly in favor of the abolition of the slave-trade, 
 though she was not sanguine of success. She was in Geneva 
 when I arrived in Paris, and regretted that the Clarksons left 
 before her return. From her house, the Chateau de Clichy, I 
 walked to St. Denis, and on the way met with an adventure. 
 I overtook a French soldier : he had a sunburnt face and a 
 
 i 
 
1814.] SPANISH CRUELTY. 291 
 
 somewhat ruffianly appearance. As I came up to him, he 
 startled me by running up and putting his hands on my 
 shoulders : he said in a loud voice, but with a smiling face 
 which at once removed all fear of violence : '* Ah ! vous etes 
 Anglais : que je vous aime ! si je n'avais que deux sous, vous 
 en auriez un. Mais si vous etiez Espagnol, je vous egorgerois." 
 And then he shook me as if to show me that he would execute 
 his threat. Before he had explained himself I guessed the 
 fact, and having disengaged myself from his unwelcome em- 
 brace, I had a regular conversation with him, and in vain tried 
 to reason with him. He told me that, when in Spain, he was 
 taken prisoner and beaten by the Spaniards. They would have 
 killed him, he said, but the " braves ^^ English rescued him out 
 of their hands. This was the burden of his song. He ex- 
 hibited his wounds, — they were shocking, — and he seemed 
 to be capable of no feelings but gratitude and revenge. I said : 
 " You call me a good man ; if I had by chance been born in 
 Spain, I should have been what I am now ; I could not help 
 it." — ** Tant pis pour vous — I would kill you." — "■ But why 1 
 you meet with good people and bad people every where." — " Non, 
 pas en Espagne." — " What, kill me, when I have done nothing 
 to you." — " Si ce n'etait pas vous, c'etait votre frere ; si ce 
 n'etait pas votre frere, c'etait votre cousin — c'est la meme 
 chose. On ne pent pas trouver Tindividu — c'est impossible." 
 To strengthen my moral arguments, I treated him with a 
 bottle of wine at an inn on the road. 
 
 > October Jfth, — A dinner at Madame de Stael's, where I had 
 an opportunity of renewing my slight acquaintance with Ben- 
 jamin Constant and William Schlegel. Constant praised 
 highly the ^^ Dichtung und Wahrheit," which our hostess does 
 not like, — how should she % The naivete of the confessions and 
 sacrifice of dignity to truth were opposed to all the convention- 
 alities to which she was accustomed. Asking Schlegel for an 
 explanation of the title '^ Dichtung und Wahrheit," he said : 
 " I suppose it is used merely as an apology, if taxed with any- 
 thing." This was the poorest thing he said. Schlegel asserted 
 that Tieck was sincere in his profession of Catholicism. Fichte, 
 he said, was aware before his death that he had survived his 
 fame. Schlegel spoke of Rogers as the only poet of the old 
 school ; the modern English poets having taken a direction 
 like that of the Germans, though without any connection be- 
 tween them. In answer to my inquiries, he said that a 
 national spirit was rising in Germany ; but he talked with 
 
292 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 reserve on politics. Of Arndt, he said that he had not a clear 
 head, but that he had been of use by exciting a sentiment of 
 nationality. 
 
 October 5th. — At the Louvre for the last time. There I 
 met Miss Curran, Dawe, and Chantrey. A remark by the latter 
 struck me, and 1 made a note of it. *• The ancients," he said, 
 " worked with a knowledge of the place where the statue was 
 to be, and anticipated the light to which it would be exposed. 
 If it were to be in the open air, they often introduced folds in 
 the drapery, for the sake of producing a shade." He pointed 
 out to us the bad effect of light from two windows falling on a 
 column. 
 
 October 8th. — After a five weeks' residence, without a mo- 
 ment's ennui, I left Paris without a moment's regret. D 
 
 was my companion. He was famous for his meanness and love 
 of money, which I turned to account. We went the first day 
 in the cabriolet of a diligence to Amiens, where we spent the 
 night. The next day we proceeded towards the coast. I found 
 that there w^as only one seat in the cabriolet on this occasion, 
 price 32/r., 40 /r. being charged for the interior ; on which I 
 
 said to D : '' Now, we must travel on fair terms. The best 
 
 place, in fact, is the cheapest, and I don't think it fair that one 
 man should have both advantages ; therefore I propose that 
 whoever has the cabriolet shall pay 40/r." He consented ; I 
 gave him his choice, and it was amusing to see the eagerness 
 with which he chose the interior. 
 
 My arrangement turned out well, for I had the company of 
 a very sensible, well-informed clergyman. Dr. Coplestone, and 
 we ran a round of literary and political topics. We travelled 
 all night, and breakfasted at Boulogne. It was in the morning 
 that we all walked up a hill to relieve our limbs, when I saw 
 the Doctor talking to a stranger ; and referring to him, T said 
 afterwards, " Your friend." — " He is no friend of mine," said 
 Coplestone, angrily ; " he is a vulgar, ignorant man : I do not 
 know what he is ; I thought he was an auctioneer at first ; 
 then I took him for a tailor : he may be anything." I heard 
 afterwards fi'om D that this stranger had been very an- 
 noying in the coach, by talking on every subject very ill. 
 When we came to breakfast he addressed his conversation to 
 me, and having used the word peccadillo^ he asked me whether 
 I had ever been in Spain, to which I made no answer. He 
 went on : " Peccadillo is a Spanish word ; it means a little sin ; 
 it is a compound of two words, — pecca, little, and dillo, sin." 
 
1S14.] SCHLKGKL ON INDIAN PHILOSOPHY. 293 
 
 I happened to catch Coplestone's eye, and, encouraging each 
 other, we both laid down our knives and forks and roared out- 
 right.* 
 
 My first Continental trip, after my call to the bar, has af- 
 forded me great pleasure, without at all indisposing me to go 
 on with my trial of the bar, as a profession. I left my friends 
 in Germany, but in France I have not formed a single acquaint- 
 ance which is likely to ripen into friendship. A singular fact, 
 because I believe the character of my own mind has much 
 more of the French than of the German in it. 
 
 October IJfth. — Received a call from Tiarks, for whom I had 
 purchased some books. Kastner, I learned, is still in London. 
 His endeavors to obtain money for the Prussians have been 
 successful, and he is in good spirits about his own affairs. He 
 hopes to have an appointment on the Rhine ; and he believes 
 a University wall be formed at Bonn. 
 
 October 2Sd. — Walked from Cambridge to Bury. During 
 the greater part of the time I was reading Schlegel " Ueber 
 die Sprache und Weisheit der Indier." The book on language 
 I could not follow or relish, but the second book on Indian 
 philosophy I found very interesting, and far more intelligible 
 than the other philosophical writings of the author. He treats 
 of the leading doctrines of the Indian philosophers, and rep- 
 resents them as forming epochs in Indian history. The notions 
 concerning the Emanation from the divine mind are connected 
 with the doctrine of the pre-existeuce and transmigration of 
 the soul. These ideas were followed by the worship of nature 
 and its power, out of which sprung the tasteful and various 
 mythology of the Greeks. The doctrine of two principles is 
 treated by Schlegel with more respect than I expected, and 
 that w^hich follow^ed it, and came out of it, — Pantheism, — with 
 far less. He asserts of Pantheism what I have long felt to be 
 equally true of Schelling's A bsolute, that it is destructive of all 
 moral impressions, and productive merely of indifference to 
 good and evil. This little book is an admirable hortative to 
 
 * Coplestone published a collection of letter?, &c., with a Memoir of Lord 
 Dudley, my slight acquaintance at Corunna. On the appearance of this work 
 an epigram was circulated, ascribed to Croker: — 
 
 " Than the first martyr's, Dudley's fate 
 Still harder must be owned,' 
 Stephen was only stoned to death, 
 Ward has been Coplestoned." 
 
 Samuel Rogers has the credit of having written 
 
 " Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it, 
 He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it." — H. C. R. 
 
294 RP:MINISCENCES of henry CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 the study of Oriental literature. Schlegel regards the study 
 of Indian philosophy as a powerful stimulus to the mind, to 
 preserve it from the fatal consequences of modern scepticism 
 and infidelity. It also, he thinks, facilitates the comprehen- 
 sion of the Bible. 
 
 October 27th. — In the forenoon I went for a few minutes 
 into the fair. It made me melancholy. The sight of Bury 
 Fair affects me like conversation about a deceased friend. 
 Perhaps it would be more correct to say about a friend with 
 whom all acquaintance has ceased. I have no pleasure what- 
 ever now in a scene which formerly gave me delight, and I am 
 half grieved, half ashamed, to find myself or things so much 
 altered. This is foolish, for why should the man retain the 
 attachments of the boy 1 But every loss of youthful taste or 
 pleasure is a partial death. 
 
 October Slst. — In the afternoon went to Flaxman's. Found 
 Miss Flaxman alone. From her I learnt that, about six weeks 
 ago, Mrs. Flaxman was seized with a paralytic stroke, which 
 had deprived her of the use of her limbs on one side for a 
 time, but from which she had since in a great measure re- 
 covered. She is now in Paris with Miss Denman, where she 
 is able to walk. This seizure, though she may survive it 
 many years, wnll sensibly affect her during her life. I should, 
 indeed, have thought such a blow a sentence of death, with 
 execution respited. But Anthony Robinson informs me that 
 he had a paralytic stroke many years ago, from which he has 
 suffered no evil consequences since. I observed, both to Miss 
 Flaxman this day, and to Anthony Robinson the day after, 
 that I had a presentiment I should myself at some time be 
 attacked with paralysis or apoplexy. They treated this idea 
 as a whim, but I have still the feeling ; for I frequently suffer 
 from dizziness, and sometimes feel a tightness over my eyes 
 and in my brain, which, if increased, would, I fancy, produce 
 a paralytic affection. These apprehensions are, however, by 
 no means painful. I am not acquainted with any mode of 
 death which is less fearful in imagination.* 
 
 November ISth. — Dined with Mr. Porden, having invited 
 myself thither. A Captain Stavely and Miss Flaxman were 
 there, and afterwards Mr. Flaxman and a Mr. Gunn came. 
 The evening was very pleasantly spent. We talked about 
 Gothic architecture. Mr. Flaxman said he considered it but a 
 
 * This anticipation proved wholly groundless, though Mr. Robinson com- 
 plained of occasional dizziness till his death. 
 
1814.] FLAXMAN ON AGRICULTURE. 295 
 
 degeneracy from the Eoman. I observed that it was not 
 enough to say that generally, it should be shown lioio ; that 
 as the architects of the Middle Ages could not but have some 
 knowledge of the ancient Roman works, of course this knowl- 
 edge must have influenced their taste, but they might still 
 have views of their own; and certainly the later and purer 
 Gothic did not pretend to the same objects. Flaxman did not 
 object to this. He observed that Gothic, like other architec- 
 ture, sprang out of the wants of the age, and was to be ex- 
 plained from the customs of the time. The narrow lancet 
 windows were used when glass was little or not at all known, 
 and when a cloth was put up. At this time there were no 
 buttresses, for they were not rendered necessary. But when, 
 glass being introduced, large windows followed, and thin walls 
 were used, buttresses became necessary. It was casually ob- 
 served this evening, that the Greeks had little acquaintance 
 with the arch. Mr. Gunn observed that the first deviation 
 from the Greek canon was the placing the arch upon instead 
 of between the pillars.* The Greek architecture was adapted 
 to wooden buildings : all the architectural ornaments consist 
 of parts familiar to builders in wood. The arch was easier 
 than the stone architraves, (fee, for it might consist of small 
 stones. Speaking of the Lombard columns, Mr. Flaxman said 
 the old architects in the Middle Ages frequently cut up the 
 ancient pillars. The circular corners to the pillars in our 
 churches are frequently subsequent additions to the pillars to 
 give them grace. Mr. Porden is of opinion that Gothic archi- 
 tecture has its origin in the East, and Mr. Flaxman seems also 
 to favor this idea. Porden says the historic evidence is great, 
 and the Spanish chiu-ches furnish the chain of communication. 
 Flaxman derived the Norman zigzag from the incapacity of 
 the workmen to produce the flower which was used by the 
 Greeks and Romans. Speaking of ornaments, he said they 
 were all significant among the Greeks : the pattern called the 
 Grecian Key, for instance, was meant to represent the Laby- 
 rinth at Crete ; and so of a number of decorations which we 
 use without discernment, but which had not lost their sj-m- 
 boHc sense among the ancients. Mr. Gunn f I found almost 
 
 * In Grecian architecture the arch, as a principle of construction, is not to 
 be found. It was known in the East, and has been met with in the founda- 
 tions of the EgjqDtian Pyramids. 
 
 t I afterwards heard 'that Mr. Gunn, of Norfolk, a man of 'taste and a 
 traveller, was the clergyman who married the Duke of Sussex to Lady 
 Augusta Murray. Tliis i^ivolved him m embarrassmouts, and was a bar to 
 his future promotion. — H. C. R. 
 
296 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 an intolerant enemy to the Gothic. He spoke of "extravagant 
 deviation from good taste," &c., yet I made him confess that 
 the Gothic, though further from the Greek than the Saxon, 
 was far more beautiful, because it had acquired a consistency 
 and character of its own. 
 
 November Ufih. — Spent the forenoon in court. We were 
 all much pleased by a manly and spirited reply of Brougham 
 to Lord EUenborough. A man convicted of a libel against 
 Jesus Christ offered an affidavit in mitigation, which Lord 
 EUenborough at first refused to receive, on the ground that if 
 the defendant were the author of the book, there was nothing 
 by which he could swear. When Brougham rose to remark on 
 this, EUenborough said : " Mr. Brougham, if you are acquainted 
 with this person's faith, you had better suggest some other 
 sanction ; you had better confer with him." Brougham said 
 in reply : *' It is very unpleasant to be thus mixed up with my 
 client, of whom I know nothing but that I am his retained 
 advocate. As a lawyer and a gentleman, I protest against 
 such insinuations." This he repeated in a tone very impressive. 
 Lord EUenborough was evidently mortified, and said in a faint 
 voice that no insinuation was intended. 
 
 November 17th, — After nine I went to Charles Lamb's, 
 whose parties are now only once a month. I plaj^ed a couple 
 of rubbers pleasantly, and afterwards chatted with Hazlitt till 
 one o'clock. He is become an Edinburgh Reviewer through 
 the recommendation of Lady Mackintosh, who had sent to the 
 Champion office to know the author of the articles on Institu- 
 tions. Hazlitt sent those and other writings to Jeffrey, and 
 has been in a very flattering manner enrolled in the corps. 
 This has put him in good spirits, and he now again hopes that 
 his talents will be appreciated and become a subsistence to him. 
 
 November 21st — In the evening I stepped over to Lamb, 
 and sat with him from ten to eleven. He was very chatty and 
 pleasant. Pictures and poetry were the subjects of our talk. 
 He thinks no description in " The Excursion " so good as the 
 history of the country parson who had been a courtier. In 
 this I agree with him. But he dislikes " The Magdalen," 
 which he says would be as good in prose ; in which I do not 
 agree with him. 
 
 November 23d, — This week I finished Wordsworth's poem. 
 It has afforded me less intense pleasure on the whole, perhaps, 
 than I had expected, but it will be a source of frequent grati- 
 fication. The wisdom and high moral character of the work 
 
1814.] KEAN'S MACBETH. 297 
 
 are beyond anything of the same kind with which I anr. ac- 
 quainted, and the spirit of the poetry flags much less frequently 
 than might be expected. There are passages which run heav- 
 ily, tales ^vhich are prolix, and reasonings which are spun out, 
 but in general the narratives are exquisitely tender. That of 
 the courtier parson, who retains in solitude the feelings of high 
 society, whose vigor of mind is unconquerable, and who, even 
 after the death of his wife, appears able for a short time to 
 bear up against desolation and wretchedness, by the powers of 
 his native temperament, is most delightful. Among the 
 discussions, that on Manufactories, in the eighth book, is ad- 
 mirably managed, and forms, in due subordination to the 
 incomparable fourth book, one of the chief excellences of the 
 poem. Wordsworth has succeeded better in light and elegant 
 painting in this poem than in any other. His Hanoverian and 
 Jacobite are very sweet pictures. 
 
 Becemher IsU — Went to Drury Lane Theatre, where my 
 pleasure w^as less than I had expected. Ke?ai is not an excel- 
 lent Macbeth. Nature has denied him a heroic figure and a 
 powerful voice. A mere facult}^ of exhibiting the stronger ma- 
 lignant passions is not enough for such a character. There is 
 no commanding dignity in Kean, and without this one does 
 not see how he could so easily overawe the Scottish nobility. 
 His dagger scene pleased me less than Kemble's. He saw the 
 dagger too soon, and without any preparatory pause. Kemble 
 was admirable in the effect he gave to this very bold concep- 
 tion. In his eye you could see when he lost sight of the dag- 
 ger. But in the scene in which he returns from the murder, 
 Kean looks admirably. His death is also very grand. After 
 receiving his death-wound he staggers and gives a feeble blow. 
 After falling he crawls on the floor to reach again his sword, 
 and dies as he touches it. This is no less excellent than his 
 dying in Richard, but varied from it ; so that what is said of 
 Cawdor in the play may be said of Kean, " Nothing in his 
 life became him like the leaving it." In no other respect did 
 he impress me beyond an ordinary actor. 
 
 December 7th, — Met Thomas Barnes at a party at Collier's, 
 and chatted with him till late. He related that at Cam- 
 bridge, having had lessons from a boxer, he gave himself airs, 
 and meeting with a fellow sitting on a stile in a field, who did 
 not make way for him as he expected, and as he thought due 
 to a gownsman, he asked what he meant, and said he had a great 
 mind to thrash him. " The man smiled," said Barnes, '^ put 
 
 13* 
 
298 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17- 
 
 his hand on my shoulder, and said, ^* Young man, I 'm Cribb." 
 I was delighted ; gave him my hand ; took him to my room, 
 where I had a wine-party, and he was the lion." Cribb was 
 at that time the Champion of England. 
 
 December 11th. — After reading at home from eight to ten T 
 called on Miss Lamb, and chatted with her. She was not un- 
 well, but she had undergone great fatigue from writing an 
 article about needle-work, for the new Ladled Brituh Magazine, 
 She spoke of writing as a most painful occupation, which only 
 necessity could make her attempt. She has been learning 
 Latin merely to assist her in acquiring a correct style. Yet, 
 while she speaks of inability to write, what grace and talent 
 has she not manifested in " Mrs. Leicester's School," ikc. 
 
 December 18th, — Finished Milner on " Ecclesiastical Archi- 
 tecture in England." He opposes Whitt^ington's opinion that 
 Gothic architecture originated in the East, and that it attained 
 perfection in France before it did in England. Neither ques- 
 tion interests me greatly ; what is truly curious and worthy of 
 remark is the progress of the mind in the cultivation of art. 
 All the arts of life are originally the produce of necessity ; and 
 it is not till the grosser wants of our nature are supplied that 
 we have leisure to detect a beauty in what was at first only a 
 relief How each necessary part of a building became an 
 architectural ornament is shown by the theoretical writers on 
 ancient architecture. The same has not yet been done for 
 Gothic architecture ; and in this alone the study of modern art 
 is less interesting than that of the ancient. But still it 
 would be highly interesting to inquire how the architecture of 
 the moderns sprang out of the art of the ancients, and how 
 different climates, possibly, and certainly different countries, 
 supplied various elements in the delightful works of the Mid- 
 dle Ages. As to the books I have read, and the different the- 
 ories in each, I cannot appreciate them, because they appeal to 
 facts with which I am unacquainted, and each disputes the ex- 
 istence of what the others confidently maintain. For instance, 
 the writers are still at variance about what is surely capable 
 of being ascertained, viz. whether there be any real specimen 
 of the Gothic in Asia. 
 
 December 19th. — Took tea with the Flaxmans, and read to 
 them and Miss Vardel Coleridge's " Christabel," with which 
 they were all delighted, Flaxman more than I expected. I 
 also read some passages out of " The Excursion." Flaxman 
 took umbrage at some mystical expressions in the fragment in 
 
1814.] MISS O'XEIL. — BRENTANO. 299 
 
 the Preface, in which Wordsworth talks of seeing Jehovah un- 
 alarmed.'^ " If my brother had written that," said Flaxman, 
 " I should say, ' Burn it.' " But he admitted that Wordsworth 
 could not mean anything impious in it. Indeed I was unable, 
 and am still, to explain the passage. And Lamb's explanation 
 is unsatisfactory, viz. that there are deeper sufferings in the 
 mind of man than in any imagined hell. If Wordsworth 
 means that all notions about the personality of God, as well 
 as the locality of hell, are but attempts to individualize 
 notions concerning Mind, he will be much more of a meta- 
 physical philosopher nach deutscher Art, than I had any con- 
 ception of. And yet this otherwise glorious and magnificent 
 fragment tends thitherwards, as far as I can discern any ten- 
 dency in it. 
 
 December 20th — Late in the evening Lamb called, to sit 
 with me while he smoked his pipe. I had called on him late 
 last night, and he seemed absurdly grateful for the visit. He 
 wanted society, being alone. I abstained from inquiring after 
 his sister, and trust he will appreciate the motive. 
 
 Decemher 23d, — Saw Miss O'Neil in Isabella. She was, as 
 Amyot well said, " a hugging actress." Sensibility shown in 
 grief and fondness was her forte, — her only talent. She is 
 praised for her death scenes, but they are the very opposite of 
 K can's, of which I have spoken. In Kean, you see the ruling 
 passion strong in death, — that is, the passion of the individual. 
 Miss O'Neil exhibits the sufferings that are common to all who 
 are in pain. To imitate death closely is disgusting. 
 
 December 25th, — I called on George Brentano, and was 
 gi^eatly interested by his account of his family, and especially 
 of my former friend, his brother Christian. During the last 
 ten years Christian has been managing the estates of his family 
 in Bohemia, where, says his brother, he has been practising a 
 number of whimsical absurdities. Among other economical 
 projects, he conceived the plan of driving a number of sheep 
 into a barn and forcing them, by flogging, &c., to tread the 
 grain, instead of using a flail. To show that animals might be 
 made to sustain the remedies which art has discovered for 
 human miseries, he broke the legs of some cocks and hens, in 
 order to make them walk with wooden legs. 
 
 * " All strength — all terror, single or in bands, 
 That ever was put forth in personal form — 
 Jehovah — with his thunder, and the choir 
 Of shouting angels, and the empyreal thrones — 
 I pass them unalarmed." 
 
 (Preface to " The Excursion.'') 
 
300 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 Of politics George Brentano spoke freely. He is not so 
 warmly anti-Buonapartist as I could have wished, but he is 
 still j)atriotic. He wishes for a concentration of German 
 power. 
 
 December 27th, — Bode to Witham on the outside of the 
 Colchester coach, and amused myself by reading Middleton's 
 " Letter from Bome," a very amusing as well as interesting 
 work. His proof that a great number of the rites and cere- 
 monies of the Bomish Church are derived from the Pagan 
 religion is very complete and satisfactory. And he urges his 
 argument against the abuses of the Boman Church with no 
 feelings unfavorable to Christianity. That the earliest Chris- 
 tians voluntarily assimilated the new faith and its rites to the 
 ancient superstition, in order to win souls, and with that ac- 
 commodating spirit which St. Paul seems to have sanctioned, 
 cannot be doubted. It admits of a doubt how far such a prac- 
 tice is so entirely bad as rigid believers now assert. Certainly 
 these peculiarities are not the most mischievous excrescences 
 which have gradually formed themselves on the surface of the 
 noble and sublimely simple of Jesus Christ. The worst of these 
 adscititioDS appendages may be looked upon as bad poetry ; 
 but the ineradicable and intolerable vice of Bomanism is the 
 infallibility of the Church, and the consequent intolerance of 
 its priests. It is a religion of slavery. 
 
 CHAPTEB XVIII. 
 
 1815. 
 
 JANUARY 3d, — My visit to Witham was made partly that 
 I might have the pleasure of reading " The Excursion " to 
 Mrs. W. Pattisson. The second perusal of this poem has grati- 
 fied me still more than the first, and my own impressions were 
 not removed by the various criticisms I became acquainted 
 with. I also read to Mrs. Pattisson the Eclectic Review, It is 
 a highly encomiastic article, rendering ample justice to the 
 poetical talents of the author, but raising a doubt as to the 
 religious character of the poem. It is insinuated that Nature 
 is a sort of God throughout, and consistently with the Calvin- 
 istic orthodoxy of the reviewer, the lamentable error of repre- 
 
1815.] OPINIONS ABOUT "THE EXCURSION." 301 
 
 senting a love of Nature as a sort of piirifying state of mind, 
 and the study of Nature as a sanctifying process, is emphati- 
 cally pointed out. 
 
 Mrs. Pattisson further objected that, in Wordsworth, there 
 is a want of sensibility, or rather passion ; and she even main- 
 tained that one of the reasons why I admire him so much is 
 that I never was in love. We disputed on this head, and it 
 was at last agreed between us that Wordsworth has no power 
 because he has no inclination to describe the passion of an im- 
 successful lover, but that he is eminently happy in his descrip- 
 tion of connubial felicity. We read also the Edinburgh review 
 of the poem. It is a very severe and contemptuous article. 
 Wordsworth is treated as incurable, and the changes are rung 
 on the old keys with great vivacity, — affectation, bad taste, 
 mysticism, &c. He is reproached with having written more 
 feebly than before. A ludicrous statement of the story is 
 given, which will not impose on many, for Homer or the Bible 
 might be so represented. Bat though the attack on Words- 
 worth will do little mischief among those who are already ac- 
 quainted with Edinhiirgh Review articles, it will close up the 
 eyes of many who might otherwise have recovered their sight. 
 
 Perhaps, after all, ^' The Excursion" will leave Mr. Words- 
 worth's admirers and contemners where they were. Each will 
 be furnished w^ith instances to strengthen his own persuasions. 
 Certainly I could wish for a somewhat clearer development of 
 the author's opinions, for the retrenchment of some of the un- 
 interesting interlocutory matter, for the exclusion of the tale 
 of the angry, avaricious, and unkind woman, and curtailments 
 in some of the other narratives. But, with these deductions 
 from the worth of the poem, I do not hesitate to place it 
 among the noblest works of the human intellect, and to me it 
 is one of the most delightful. What is good is of the best 
 kind of goodness, and the passages are not few which place the 
 author on a level with Milton. It is true Wordsworth is not 
 an epic poet ; but it is also true that what lives in the hearts 
 of readers from the works of Milton is not the epic poem. 
 Milton's story has merit unquestionably ; but it is rather a 
 lyinc than an epic nan-ative. Wordsworth is purely and ex- 
 clusively a lyric poet, in the extended use of that term. 
 
 January 8th. — Called on Mrs. Clarkson (at Bury), and 
 talked with her about " The Excursion." She had received a 
 letter from Wordsworth himself, in which he mentioned the 
 favorable as well as imfavorable opinions he had already 
 heard. 
 
302 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. lb. 
 
 January 21st — On my ride to London outside the Bury 
 coach I read part of Goethe's Autobiography (3d vol.) with 
 great pleasure. It is a delightful work, but must be studied, 
 not read as a mere personal history. His account of the 
 " Systeme de la Nature " and of his theological opinions is pe- 
 culiarly interesting, illl that respects his own life and feelings 
 is delightfully told. It is a book to make a man wish to live, 
 if life were a thing he had not already experienced. There is 
 in Goethe such a zest in living. The pleasures of sense and 
 thought, of imagination and the affectians, appear to have been 
 all possessed by him in a more exuberant degree than in any man 
 who has ever renewed his life by writing it. He appears in 
 his youth to have had something even of religious enthusiasm. 
 It would be interesting to know how he lost it, but we shall 
 hardly be gratified by a much longer continuance of this in- 
 comparable memoir. 
 
 January 23d, — ^^ Called on Amyot. He informs me that Lord 
 Erskine is writing a life of C. J. Fox. This work will deter- 
 mine what is at present doubtful, — whether Erskine has any 
 literary talent. I shall be gratified if the book does the author 
 and subject credit ; for it is lamentable to witness the prema- 
 ture waste of a mind so active as that of the greatest jury-orator. 
 And it has been supposed that since his retreat from the Chan- 
 cellorship he has devoted himself merely to amusement." * 
 
 January 26ih, — Dined at Mr. Gurney's.t He appeared to 
 advantage surrounded by his family. The conversation con- 
 sisted chiefly of legal anecdote. Of Graham it w^as related, 
 that in one case which respected some parish rights, and in 
 which the parish of A. B. was frequently adverted to, he said 
 in his charge : " Gentlemen, there is one circumstance very re- 
 markable in this case, that both the plaintiff's and defendant's 
 coimsel have talked a great deal about one A. B., and that 
 neither of them has thought proper to call him as a witness ! ! " 
 It was Graham w^ho, one day, at the Old Bailey, having omit- 
 ted to pass sentence of death on a prisoner, and being told 
 that he had forgotten it, exclaimed, very gravely, '' Dear me, 
 I beg his pardon, I am sure ! " The late Justice Willes was 
 spoken of as having had a habit of interrupting the counsel ; 
 
 and on such an occasion, said to him : ^^ Your Lordship is 
 
 even a greater man than your father. The Chief Baron used 
 
 * In 1825 Fox's collected speeches were published, with a short biograph- 
 ical and critical introduction by Erskine, six vols. 
 i Afterwards one of the Barons of the Exchequer. 
 
 I 
 
1815.] MENTAL DELUSIONS OF SHARP, ETC. 303 
 
 to understand me after I had done, but your Lordship under- 
 stands me before I begin." 
 
 January 30th, — Dined at the Hall. After dinner went to 
 Flaxman's. He was very chatty and pleasant, and related some 
 curious anecdotes of Sharp the engraver, who seems the ready 
 dupe of any and every religious fanatic. I have already re- 
 ferred to his notion, that he was about to accompany the Jews 
 under the guidance of Brothers to the Promised Land.* Sharp 
 became a warm partisan of Joanna Southcott, and endeavored 
 to make a convert of Blake ; but, as Flaxman judiciously ob- 
 served, such men as Blake are not fond of playing second 
 fiddle. Blake lately told Flaxman that he had had a violent 
 dispute with the angels on some subject, and had driven them 
 away. Barry had delusions of another kind. He informed 
 Flaxman that he could not go out of his house on account of 
 the danger he incurred of assassination. And in the lecture- 
 room of the Academy he spoke of his house being broken into 
 and robbed, and fixing his eyes on Smirke and other head 
 Academicians, said, " These were not common robbers." 
 
 February 3d, — Dined with Walter ; Combe and Fraser 
 were there. Combe related an anecdote of Sergeant Davy. 
 The sergeant was no lawyer, but an excellent Nisi Prius advo- 
 cate, having great shrewdness and promptitude. On one 
 occasion Lord Mansfield said he should sit on Good Friday, 
 there being a great press of business. It was said no barrister 
 would attend, and in fact no one did ; but the Chief Justice 
 tried the causes with the attorneys alone. When the proposal 
 was made to the bar, Sergeant Davy said to Lord Mansfield, 
 " There has been no precedent since the time of Pontius 
 Pilate." 
 
 I heard the other day of Jekyll the following pun. He said : 
 '' Erskine used to hesitate very miich, and could not speak 
 well after dinner. I dined with him once at the Fishmongers' 
 Company. He made such sad work of speechifying, that I 
 asked him whether it w^as in honor of the Company that he 
 floundered so." 
 
 February 12th. — Called on Thelwall, whom I had not seen 
 for a long time. Mrs. Thelwall looked ill ; he, bating a little 
 hard riding on his hobby, was not unpleasant. He is nearly 
 at the close of his epic poem, which he talked about in 1799, 
 when I visited him in Wales. At least there is no precipita- 
 tion here. He talked of " The Excursion " as containing finer 
 
 * See ante, p. 35. 
 
304 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18, 
 
 verses than there are in Milton, and as being in versification 
 most admirable ; but then Wordsworth borrows without ac- 
 knowledgment from Thelwall himself! I 
 
 March Jfth. — Dined at Collier's. After dinner took a hasty 
 cup of tea with Anthony Robinson, Jr., and Miss Lamb, and 
 went with them to Covent Garden Theatre to see Miss O'Neil. 
 We sat in the first row, and thus had a near view of her. 
 She did not appear to me a great actress, but still I was much 
 pleased with her. She is very graceful without being very 
 pretty. There is an interesting tenderness and gentleness, the 
 impression of which is, however, disturbed by a voice which I 
 still find harsh. In her unimpassioned acting she pleases from 
 her appearance merely, but in moments of great excitement 
 she wants power. Her sobs in the last act of " The Stranger" 
 were very pathetic, but her general acting in the first scenes 
 was not that of a person habitually melancholy. Young is a 
 mere copy of Kemble throughout in "' The Stranger," but cer- 
 tainly a very respectable copy. 
 
 After accompanying Miss Lamb to the Temple I returned to 
 see " The Sleep- Walker." Mathews's imitations of the actors in 
 his sleep were exceedingly droll ; and his burlesque acting as 
 laughable as anything I ever saw or heard in my life, but of 
 course mere farce and buffoonery. 
 
 February 5th. — Dined w^th the Colliers. After dinner, 
 Mrs. Collier having lent me ^' Waverley," I returned to my 
 chambers, and having shut myself within a double door, 
 1 took my tea alone and read a great part of the first volume. 
 
 The writer has united to the ordinary qualities of works of 
 prose fiction excellences of an unusual kind. The portraits of 
 Baron Bradwardine, a pedantic Highland laird, and of Fergus, 
 a chivalrous rebel, in whom generosity and selfishness, self- 
 devotion and ambition, are so dexterously blended and entan- 
 gled that we feel, as in real life, unable to disentangle the 
 skein, are very finely executed. The robber, Donald Bean, the 
 assassin, Callum Beg, the Lieutenant, and all the subordinate 
 appendages to a Highland sovereignty, are given in such a 
 manner as to carry with them internal evidence of their gen- 
 uineness. And the book has passages of great descriptive ex- 
 cellence. The author's sense of the romantic and picturesque 
 in nature is not so delicate, or his execution so powerful, as 
 Mrs. Radcliffe's, but his paintings of men and manners are 
 more valuable. The incidents are not so dexterously con- 
 trived, and the author has not produced a very interesting 
 
1815.] BUONAPARTE FROM ELBA. 305 
 
 personage in his hero, Waverley, who, as his name was proba- 
 bly intended to indicate, is ever hesitating between two kings 
 and two mistresses. I know not that he meant to symboHze 
 the two princes and the two ladies. Flora, whom Waverley at 
 last leaves, certainly bears with her more of our reverence and 
 admiration than Rose ; but we are persuaded that the latter 
 wdll make her husband happier than he could be with so sub- 
 lime a personage as her romantic rival. There is more than 
 the usual portion of good sense in this book, which may enjoy, 
 though not immortality, at least a long life. 
 
 March IJ^tlu — (At Royston.) The news of the day was 
 alarming. Before I left town the intelligence reached us 
 that Buonaparte had entered France, but it was not till to- 
 day that I feared seriously that he might at last succeed in 
 displacing the present government. Now (I write on the 15th) 
 it appears that he is at Lyons, and one cannot but fear that he 
 has the army with him. If so, the case is dreadful indeed. 
 I fear the French are so imitative a people, that if any one 
 marshal or considerable corps espouse his cause, all the others 
 will follow. 
 
 On the first blow, perhaps, everything depends ; for what 
 the French have hitherto most anxiously avoided is civil war. 
 There have not yet been in France two parties sufficiently strong 
 to secure to their partisans the treatment of prisoners of war. 
 The insurgents of La Vendee have always been considered as 
 rebels, and so will be, I think it probable, the adherents of 
 Louis or Buonaparte. If the parties were at all balanced, the 
 interference of the Foreign Powers would at once decide the 
 contest. But, if that interference take place too soon, will it 
 not determine the neutral party to embrace the cause of the 
 ex-Emperor % And yet if there be no interfer'^ince, will not the 
 army be decidedly on the side of the military chieftain ] 
 
 April 8th. — Went to Bury by the coach. Finding Hart 
 was alone inside, I joined him, and never had a more pleasant 
 
 ride. Hart was very chatty and very agTeeable. Of Mr. 
 
 Hart seems when young to have thought very rightly. Mr. 
 
 passed then for a great man among good people. Hart 
 
 said : " When I was a little boy he shocked me by saying to a 
 man who was lamentins: his backslidino's to him, ' Ah ! sir, vou 
 must not take these things too much to heart ; yen must 
 recollect you were predestined to do them ] ' " A use of the 
 doctrine of Necessity which shocked a sensible child c/ ten 
 years old. 
 
306 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 April 15th, — I called at the Colliers', and finding that Miss 
 Lamb was gone to Alsager's, from whom I had an invitation, I 
 also went. There was a rather large party, and I stayed till 
 near two o'clock, playing whist ill, for w^hich I was scolded by 
 Captain Burney, and debating with Hazlitt, in w^hich I was 
 also unsuccessful, as far as the talent of the disputation was 
 involved, though Hazlitt was wrong, as well as offensive, in 
 almost all he said. When pressed, he does not deny w^hat is 
 bad in the character of Buonaparte. And yet he triumphs 
 and rejoices in the late events. Hazlitt and myself once felt 
 alike on politics. And now our hopes and fears are directly 
 opposed. He retains all his hatred of kings and bad govern- 
 ments, and believing them to be incorrigible, he, from a princi- 
 ple of revenge, rejoices that they are punished. I am indignant 
 to find the man who might have been their punisher become 
 their imitator, and even surpassing them all in guilt. Hazlitt 
 is angTy with the friends of liberty for weakening their strength 
 by joining with the common foe against Buonaparte, by which 
 the old governments are so much assisted, even in their attempts 
 against the general liberty. I am not shaken by this conse- 
 quence, because I think, after all, that, should the governments 
 succeed in the worst projects imputed to them, still the evil 
 will be infinitely less than that which would arise from Buona- 
 parte's success. I say : " Destroy him, at any rate, and take 
 the consequences." Hazlitt says : " Let the enemy of the old 
 tyrannical governments triumph, and I am glad, and do not 
 much care how the new government turns out." Not that I 
 am indifferent to the government which the successful kings of 
 Europe may establish, or that Hazlitt has lost all love for 
 liberty, but that his hatred and my fears predominate and 
 absorb all weaker impressions. This I believe to be the great 
 difference between us. 
 
 April 16th. — In the evening, in my chambers, enjoyed 
 looking over Wordsworth's new edition of his poems. The sup- 
 plement to his preface I wish he had left unwritten. His re- 
 proaches of the bad taste of the times wnll be ascribed to 
 merely personal feelings, and to disappointment. But his 
 manly avow^al of his sense of his own poetic merit I by no 
 means censure. His preface contains subtle remarks on 
 poetry, but they are not clear ; and I wish he could incorpo- 
 rate all his critical ideas into a work of taste, in either the 
 dialogue or novel form ; otherwise his valuable suggestions are 
 in danger of being lost. His classification of his poems dis 
 
1815.] BUONAPAKTISTS AND ANTl-BUONAP ARTISTS. 307 
 
 pleases me from an obvious fault, tha* it is partly subjective 
 and partly objective. 
 
 April 17th, — Spent the forenoon in the Hall, without in- 
 terest. The court rose early, and I walked homewards with 
 Biirrell. He is a zealous anti-Buonapartist, and on high prin- 
 ciples. It is a pleasure to talk with so noble-minded a man. 
 He observed that Buonaparte, if sincere, could not possibly 
 remain a friend to peace. Like Satan, when peace was restored, 
 ease would lead him to recant " vows made in pain, as violent 
 and void." It is contrary to human nature that such a mind 
 could ever rest in tranquillity. 
 
 April 18th, — Called on Anthony Robinson. He was vehe- 
 mently abusive of the allies, and angrily strenuous for peace. 
 I had a difficulty in keeping my temper, but when he was 
 spent he listened to me. It seems in fact that, after all, if the 
 question were peace or war with Buonaparte, we must conclude 
 in favor of peace ; but the question is, war by us now in 
 France, or by him two years hence in Germany, — and 
 then surely the answer must be for war w4th him now\ At 
 the same time the prospect is tremendous, if we are to have 
 war ; for how are our resources to endure, which seem now 
 nearly exhausted % 
 
 April 22d. — Mr. Quayle breakfasted with me in the expec- 
 tation of meeting Tiarks, who called for a moment, but could 
 not stay. Mr. Quayle proposed to me the writing for a new 
 Review, but I gave an indecisive answer. He informs me that 
 Yalpy has engaged Tiarks for the Lexicon in consequence of 
 my letter to him. Accompanied Mr. Quayle to Greek Street, 
 and on my return found a letter from my sister announcing 
 that my father had been attacked by apoplexy, and was lying 
 in a state which rendered it unlikely that he would survive 
 many hours. This intelligence could not surprise me, nor, in 
 the state of my father's health, could it grieve me. His fac- 
 ulties were rapidly wasting away, his body enfeebled by disease 
 and age, — he was nearly eighty-eight. He retained his ap- 
 petite alone of all his sources of pleasure. I rejoiced to 
 hear that his state was that of torpidity, almost of insensi- 
 bility. 
 
 April 2Sd. — I spent the forenoon at home. Mr. Green 
 brought me a letter announcing the expected event ; my 
 poor father died between twelve and one o'clock yesterday 
 morning. 
 
 He has lived among men a blameless life ; and, perhaps, 
 
308 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CKABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 that he has never excited in his children the best and most de- 
 lightful emotions has been his misfortune rather than his fault. 
 0, how difficult, not to say impossible, to assign the boundaries 
 between natural and moral evil, between the defects of char- 
 acter which proceed from natural imbecility, which no man 
 considers a reproach, and those errors of the will, about which 
 metaphysicians may dispute forever ! Only this I know, that 
 I sincerely wish I was other than I am ; and that I acknowl- 
 edge among those I see around me individuals whom I believe 
 to be of a nobler and better nature than myself. The want 
 of sensibility in myself I consider as a radical defect in my 
 nature ; but on what does sensibility depend ^ On constitu- 
 tion, or habits, or what 1 I cannot tell. I know only that I 
 was not my own maker. I know also that I respect others 
 more than I do myself ; though I have hitherto been preserved 
 from doing any act grossly violating the rights of others, and 
 I am i/et incapable of a deliberate act of injustice or hard- 
 heartedness. But how long may I be able to say this 1: How 
 wise and admirable the prayer, *' Lead me not into tempta- 
 tion ! " I cannot understand the mysteries of religion, but 
 this I am sensible of, that there is a consciousness of good and 
 evil in myself, of strength and weakness, of a goodness out of 
 me which is not in me, and of a something which / can neither 
 attain nor think unattainable. And on this consciousness, 
 common to all men, rests the doctrine of grace and praj'er, 
 which I wish to comprehend and duly to feel. I wish to be 
 religious, as an excellence and grace of character, at the least. 
 
 Ajml 2Jf.iJu — Spent the greater part of the forenoon at 
 home. Read Hazlitt's article on the great novelists in the 
 Edinburgh Revieiv. A very intelligent article. His discrimina- 
 tion between Fielding and Le Sage is particularly excellent. His 
 characters of Cervantes, Richardson, and Smollett are also admi- 
 rable ; but his strictures on Sterne are less pointed ; and his 
 obtrusive abuse of the politics of the king, as occasioning the 
 decline of novel-writing during the present reign, is very far- 
 fetched indeed. He is also severe and almost contemptuous 
 towards Miss Burney, whose " Wanderer " was the pretence of 
 the article. 
 
 May 7th. — On returning from a walk to Shooter's Hill, I 
 found a card from Wordsworth, and, running to Lamb's, I found 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth there. After sitting half an hour 
 with them, I accompanied them to their lodgings, near Caven- 
 dish Square. Mrs. Wordsworth appears to be a mild and 
 
1815.] WORDSWORTH, THE POET OF COMMON THINGS. 309 
 
 amiable woman, not so lively or animated as Miss Wordsworth, 
 but, like her, devoted to the poet. 
 
 May 8th, — I dined w^ith the Colliers, and after dinner called 
 on the Flaxmans. Mrs. Flaxman admitted me to her room. 
 She had about a fortnight before broken her leg, and sprained 
 it besides, by falling down stairs. This misfortune, however, 
 instead of occasioning a repetition of the paralytic stroke, which 
 she had a year ago, seemed to have improved her health. She 
 had actually recovered the use of her hand in some degree, and 
 her friends expect that she will be benefited by the accident. 
 Poor Flaxman, however, had a relapse of his erysipelas, and he 
 is still so weak and nervous that he sees no one. His situa- 
 tion is the worse of the two. 
 
 May 9th. — Took tea with the Lambs. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wordsworth were there. We had a long chat, of which, how- 
 ever, I can relate but little. Wordsworth, in answer to the 
 common reproach that his sensibility is excited by objects 
 which produce no effect on others, admits the fact, and is 
 proud of it. He says that he cannot be accused of being insen- 
 sible to the real concerns of life. He does not waste his feelings 
 on unworthy objects, for he is alive to the actual interests of 
 society. I think the justification is complete. If W^ordsworth 
 expected immediate popularity, he would betray an ignorance 
 of public taste impossible in a man of observation. 
 
 He spoke of the changes in his new poems. He has substi- 
 tuted ebullient for fiery^ speaking of the nightingale, and joe- 
 und for laughing, applied to the daffodils ; but he will probably 
 restore the original epithets. We agreed in preferring the 
 original reading. But on my alluding to the lines, 
 
 " Three feet long and two feet wide," 
 
 and confessing that I dared not read them aloud in company, 
 he said, " They ought to be liked." 
 
 Wordsworth particularly recommended to me, among his 
 Poems of Imagination, " Yew-Trees," and a description of 
 Night. These he says are among the best for the imaginative 
 power displayed in them. I have since read them. They are 
 fine, but I believe I do not understand in what their excellence 
 consists. The poet himself, as Hazlitt has w^ell observed, has 
 a pride in deriving no aid from his subject. It is the mere 
 power which he is conscious of exerting in which he delights, 
 not the production of a work in which men rejoice on account 
 of the sympathies and sensibilities it excites in them. Hence 
 
310 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 he does not much esteem his " Laodamia," as it belongs to the 
 inferior class of poems founded on the affections. In this, as 
 in other peculiarities of Wordsworth, there is a German bent 
 in his mind. 
 
 May 20th. — Went to Covent Garden to see "Venice Pre- 
 served." Miss O'Neil's Belvidera was our only attraction, and 
 it proved our gratification. In spite of her untragical face, she 
 strongly affected us by mere sweetness and grace. Her scenes 
 of tenderness are very pleasing, and, contrary to my expecta- 
 tion, she produced a great effect in the last scenes of strong 
 passion. She threw her whole feeling into her acting, and by 
 this ahcmdon, as it were, she wrought wonders, — that is, for 
 her, — considering that nature has denied her powers for the 
 higher characters. 
 
 May 23d, — Betw^een five and six I was at Islington during 
 a long showier. I waited till I despaired of better weather, 
 and then returned to town. Just as I reached the Temple, 
 wetted to the skin, the rain subsided, and the evening became 
 very fine. However, I could hardly repent of my impatience, 
 for I went to Lamb's, and took tea with Wordsworth there. 
 Alsager,* Barron Field, Talfourd, the Colliers, &c. stepped in 
 late. Wordsworth was very chatty on poetry. I had some 
 business to attend to, which rendered me restless, so I left 
 at eleven. Miss Hutchinson was of the party ; she improves 
 greatly on acquaintance. She is a lively, sensible little 
 woman. 
 
 May 25th, — After dining with the Colliers, I accompanied 
 Miss Lamb to the theatre, where we were joined by the 
 Wordsworths. We had front places at Drury Lane and 
 saw " Eichard 11." It is a heavy and iminteresting play ; 
 principally because the process by which Richard is depos3d 
 is hardly perceived. Kean's acting in the first three acts has 
 in it nothing worth notice ; but in the fourth and fifth acts he 
 certainly exhibits the weak, passionate, and eloquent monarch 
 to great advantage. In the scene in which he gives up the 
 crown, the conflict of passion is finely kept up ; and the blend- 
 ing of opposite emotions is so curious as to resemble incipient 
 insanity. Several admirable artifices of the actor gave great 
 
 * Alsager had, at one time, a manufactory and a bleaching-ground near the 
 King's Bench Prison; bui he gave this up, and, being a great lover of music, 
 recommended himself to the Times as an amateur reporter on musical matters. 
 He became City Correspondent, and wrote the " State of the Money Market" 
 for many years. He was also a shareholder in the paper till he had a serious 
 misunderstanding with Walter. 
 
1815.] DINNER AT PORDEN'S. 311 
 
 satisfaction, — one in particular, in which he derides Boling- 
 broke for affecting to kneel, and intimates by a sign with his 
 hand that Bolingbroke aims at the level of his crown. 
 
 May 28th. — I dined at Collier's with a party assembled to 
 see Wordsworth. There were Young, Barnes, Alsager, (fee. 
 The afternoon passed off pleasantly, but the conversation was 
 not highly interesting. Wordsworth was led to give an opin- 
 ion of Lord Byron which flattered me by its resemblance to 
 my own. He reproached the author with the contradiction 
 in the character of the Corsair, &c. He also blamed Crabbe 
 for his unpoetical mode of considering human nature and 
 society. 
 
 I left the party to inquire concerning the Anthony Robin- 
 sons, and on my return found the Wordsworths gone ; but I 
 went to Lamb's, where they came, and I enjoyed their com- 
 pany till very late. I began to feel quite cordial with Mrs. 
 Wordsworth. She is an amiable woman. 
 
 June Jfih, — Mr. Nash, Sen., and my brother Thomas, 
 breakfasted w4th me. I conducted Mr. Nash to Mr. Belsham's 
 meeting, and came home to read "The White Doe of Rylstone," 
 by Wordsworth. This legendary tale will be less popular than 
 Walter Scott's, from the want of that vulgar intelligibility, and 
 that freshness and vivacity of description, which please even 
 those who are not of the vulgar. Still, the poem will be bet- 
 ter liked than better pieces of Wordsworth's writing. There 
 are a delicate sensibility and exquisite moral running through 
 the whole ; but it is not the happiest of his narrative poems. 
 
 June 5th, — Dined at Mr. Porden's. Sir James Smith of 
 Norwich, the botanical professor, there, also Phillips* the 
 painter, and Taylor, the editor or proprietor of the Sun.'\ I 
 spent a pleasant afternoon. Sir James is a very well-bred 
 man, and though his conversation was not piquant, amenity 
 supplied an equal charm ; though that word is not applicable 
 to the correct propriety and rather dry courtesy of the Uni- 
 tarian professor. Phillips was very agreeable, but the hero of 
 
 * Thomas Phillips, R. A., painted all the leading characters of the day. He 
 was a peculiarly refined artist, but scarcely ever exceeded the sphere of por- 
 trait painting. Coleridge, Southey, Byron, Crabbe, Chantrey, Blake, Sir 
 Joseph Banks, Lord Brougham, Faraday, and Walter Scott sat to him. His 
 lectures on Painting and contributions to Rees's Cyclojxedia show extensive 
 learning and originality of thought. He was bom at Dudley, in. Warwick- 
 shire, 1770, and died in'^George Street, Hanover Sq^iiare, 1845. 
 
 t John Taylor, son of a celebrated oculist in Hatton Garden, bom 1752. 
 Was oculist to George HI. and William IV. He published •* The Records of 
 my Life,*' various Poems, and " Monsieur Tonson." Died 1832. 
 
312 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 the day was Taylor, — " everybody's Taylor," as he is some- 
 times designated. He has lively parts, puns, jokes, and is 
 very good-natured. The Flaxmans were not there. Mrs. 
 Flaxman is gone to Blackheath. Miss Porden, in a feeling 
 manner, spoke of her apprehension that the Flaxman family is 
 broken up as a happy and social circle. Mrs. Flaxman's health 
 is very precarious, and her husband is dependent on her, and 
 suffers himself through her complaint. This, I fear, is a fact ; 
 and it is a melancholy subject. These breakings-up of society 
 are mournfid at all times, and peculiarly so when they befall 
 the very best of persons. 
 
 June 6th. — I dined with Amyot. A small party were there, 
 consisting of Sharon Turner, the historian and antiquarian : 
 Charles Marsh,* ex-barrister and M. P. ; William Taylor of 
 Norwich ; and Penn, a clerk in one of the public offices, a de- 
 scendant of William Penn. Charles Marsh staved with us but 
 a short time ; he was sent for to the House of Commons. His 
 manners are easy and gentlemanly ; he said little, but he spoke 
 with great vivacity. Sharon Turner is a good converser, but 
 with a little pedantry. He spoke of Martin Burney hand- 
 somely, but oddly. He said \"\ always thought he would 
 flower, though it might be late. He is a man of great honor 
 and integrity. He never told me a lie in his life ! " 
 
 William Taylor was amusing, as usual. He gravely assured 
 me that he believes the allies will succeed in penetrating into 
 France ; that the French will then offer the crown to the Em- 
 peror Alexander, who will accept it ; and then the allies will 
 fight against Alexander, to prevent the union of the two 
 crowns. William Taylor enjoys nothing so much as an ex- 
 travagant speculation, — the odder the better. He spoke of 
 Wordsworth, — praised his conversation, which he likes better 
 than his poetry, — says he is solid, dignified, eloquent, and 
 simple. *^But he looked surprised," said Taylor, "when I. 
 told him that I considered Southey the greatest poet and the 
 greatest historian living." — " No great matter of surprise," I 
 answered, " that Wordsworth should think himself a greater 
 poet than Southey." 
 
 June 15th. — I allowed myself a holiday to-day. Mord 
 Andrews breakfasted with me.'' Afterwards I called on Words- 
 worth at his lodgings. He was luckily at home, and I spent 
 the forenoon with him, walking. We talked about Hazlitt,' m 
 consequence of a malignant attack on Wordsworth by him in 
 
 * See ante, p. 15. 
 
1815.] BASIL MONTAGU WALKING THE CIRCUIT. 313 
 
 Sunday's Examiner,* Wordsworth that very day called on 
 Hunt, who in a manly way asked him whether he had seen 
 the paper of the morning ; saying, if he had, he should con- 
 sider his call as a higher honor. He disclaimed the article. 
 The attack by Hazlitt was a note, in which, after honoring 
 Milton for being a consistent patriot, he sneered at Words- 
 worth as the author of '^ paltry sonnets upon the Royal forti- 
 tude," &c., and insinuated that he had left out the *"' Female 
 Vagrant," a poem describing the miseries of war sustained by 
 the poor. 
 
 June 17th. — I went late to Lamb's. His party were there, 
 and a numerous and odd set they Avere, — for the greater part 
 interesting and amusing people, — George Dyer, Captain and 
 Martin Burney, Ayrton, Phillips, Hazlitt and wnfe, Alsager,^ 
 Barron Field, Coulson, John Collier, Talfourd, White, Lloyd, 
 and Basil Montagu. The latter I had never before been in 
 company with ; his feeling face and gentle tones are very 
 interesting. Wordsworth says of him that he is a " philan- 
 thropized courtier." He gave me an account of his first going 
 the Norfolk Circuit. He walked the circuit generally, and 
 kept aloof from the bar ; in this way he contrived to pay his 
 expenses. He began at Huntingdon, where he had a half- 
 guinea motion ; and as he was then staying at his brother's 
 house, he walked to Bury with that money in his pocket, 
 picked up a fee there, and so went on. Mackintosh was the 
 immediate senior of Montagu, and assisted in bringing him 
 forward. Mackintosh had business immediately as a leader, 
 and after a short time the two travelled together. But daring 
 some time Montagu lived on bread and cheese. He is a strenu- 
 ous advocate for all reforms in the law, and believes that in 
 time they will all take place. 
 
 June 18th. — Breakfasted at Wordsworth's. Wordsworth 
 was not at home, but I stayed chatting with the ladies till he 
 returned ; and several persons dropping in, I was kept there 
 till two o'clock, and was much amused. 
 
 * The attack referred to is contained in the following remarks on Milton, in 
 the Examiner, f^r 11th June, 1815: " Whether he was a true patriot we shall 
 not inquire; he was at least a consistent one. He did not retract his defence of 
 the people of England; he did not say that his sonnets to Vane or Cromwell 
 were meant ironically; he was not appointed Poet Laureate to a Court he had 
 reviled and insulted; he accepted neither place nor pension; nor did he write 
 paltry sonnets upon the ' Royal fortitude' of the House of Stuart, bv which, 
 however, they really lost something." To these words a foot-note is appended, 
 referring to a sonnet to the King, " in the Last Edition of the Works of a 
 Modem Poet." 
 
 VOL. I. IC 
 
314 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 Scott, editor of the Champion^* and Hay don the painter, f 
 stayed a considerable time. Scott is a little swarthy man. 
 He talked fluently on French politics, and informed me that 
 he has learnt from good authority that La Fayette was ap- 
 plied to by the King on Buonaparte's reappearance in France ; 
 that La Fayette said he wished the King success, and would 
 serve under him on conditions which he gave in WTiting ; that 
 the King refused to accede to them, and La Fayette retired to 
 his estate. On Buonaparte's arrival he, too, sent for La 
 Fayette, who refused to serve under him or accept a place 
 among the peers, but said that, if elected, he would become a 
 member of the legislative body. 
 
 Haydon has an animated countenance, but did not say 
 much. Both he and Scott seemed to entertain a high reverence 
 for the poet. 
 
 June 22d, — I spent the evening by appointment with God- 
 win. The Taylors were there. We talked politics, and not 
 very comfortably. Godwin and I all but quaiTelled ; both 
 were a little angry, and equally offensive to each other. God- 
 win was quite impassioned in asserting his hope that Buona- 
 parte may be successful in the war. He declares his wish that 
 all the allies that enter France now may perish, and affirmed 
 that no man who did not abandon all moral principles and 
 love of liberty could wish otherwise. I admitted that, in 
 general, foreigners have no right to interfere in the govern- 
 ment of a country, but, in this case, I consider the foreign 
 armies as coming to the relief of the people against the oppres- 
 sions of domestic soldiers ; and in this lies the justice of the 
 war. Bichard Taylor % maintained that nothing could justify 
 the invasion of a country. I treated it as mere formalism and 
 pedantry to ask tvhere is the battle fought. In the spirit of 
 
 * John Scott, editor of the Champion^ and afterwards of the London 
 Magazine^ an intimate friend of Haydon the artist. He was killed in a duel 
 with Mr. Christie, in 1821, which arose from a misunderstanding with Mr. 
 Lockhart. — See the *' Annual Register " for 1823. 
 
 t This powerful, but seldom judicious, artist obtained considerable dis- 
 tinction as a young man, by his independence of spirit and by detemiined op- 
 position to the weak and blind imitation of academic traditions of painting. He 
 viewed the Elgin Marbles with rapture, and contributed much to secure a prop- 
 er estimation of the works of Phidias, and the great Athenian sculptors in this 
 country. His own performances were not equally successful His ** Raising 
 of Lazarus," the best example of his merits and defects, has been recently pur- 
 chased for the National Gallery. He was born at Plymouth, 1786, and died by 
 his own hand in Burwood Place, London, 1846. His lectures are learned and 
 practical. His eloquence is vehement. His autobiogi^aphy, edited by Tom 
 Taylor, was published in three volumes, 1853. 
 
 X The printer. 
 
1815] INTERVENTION OF THE ALLIES IN FRANCE. 315 
 
 the idea the invaders may be, as is now the fact, carrying on a 
 purely defensive war. And the moral certainty that Buona- 
 parte would have made war as soon as it became convenient, 
 justifies the allies in beginning. Godwin considered the act- 
 ing on such a surmise unjustifiable. I asserted that all the 
 actions of life proceed on surmises. We, however, agreed in 
 apprehending that Buonaparte may destroy the rising liberties 
 of the French, and that the allies may attempt to force the old 
 Bourbon despotism on the French. But Godwin thinks the 
 latter, and I the former, to be the greater calamity. I also 
 consider the future despotism of Buonaparte a certain conse- 
 quence of his success in the campaign ; and, besides, I believe 
 that even if the French be so far beaten as to be obliged to 
 take back Louis on terms, yet they will still remain so formida- 
 ble that the allies will not dare to impose humiliating condi- 
 tions ; so that the French may at last be led to offer the 
 Crown again on terms of their own imposing. Richard Taylor 
 would be satisfied with this, but Godwin would on no account 
 have the allies successful. 
 
 I am no longer very anxious for the liberties of the French. 
 It is infinitely more important for Europe that their national 
 spirit of foreign conquest should be crushed, than that their 
 civil liberties should be preserved. Like the Romans, they may 
 be the conquerors of all other nations, even while they are main- 
 taining their own liberties. And I no longer imagine, as I 
 once did, that it is only monarchs and governments which can 
 be unjust and love war. 
 
 June 23d. — I went to the Surrey Institution to read the de- 
 tailed account of the glorious victory at Waterloo. This is 
 indeed most glorious ; but still I fear it will not so affect the 
 French people as to occasion a material defalcation from 
 Buonaparte. And if he be, after all, supported by the French, 
 numerous and bloody must be the victories which are to over- 
 throw him. 
 
 After nine o'clock I walked to Ayrton's. The illuminations 
 were but dull, and there were scarcely any marks of public zeal 
 or sympathy. I stayed at Ayrton's till half past one. Lamb, 
 Alsager, (fee. were there, but it was merely a card-party. 
 
 June SOth, — Called on Thelwall. He was in unaffected low 
 spirits. Godwin, LoflFt, and Thelwall are the only three per- 
 sons I know (except Hazlitt) who grieve at the late events. 
 Their intentions and motives are respectable, and their sorrow 
 proceeds from mistaken theory, and an inveterate hatred of 
 
316 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 old names. They anticipate a revival of ancient despotism in 
 France ; and they will not acknowledge the radical vices of the 
 French people, by which the peace of Europe is more endan- 
 gered than the liberties of the French are by the restoration of 
 the Bourbons. 
 
 July 2d. — I spent the forenoon at home, except that Long * 
 and I lounged with Wordsworth's poems in the Temple Gardens. 
 Long had taken the sacrament at Belsham's, for which I felt 
 additional respect towards him. Though I am not religious 
 myself, I have great respect for a conduct which proceeds from 
 a sense of duty, and is under the influence of religious feelings. 
 I greatly esteem Long in all respects, both for his understand- 
 ing and his moral feelings, which together comprise nearly all 
 that is valuable in man. 
 
 July Jfth. — At half past four I went to Thel wall's, to witness 
 a singular display. Thelwall exhibited several of his young 
 people, and also himself, in the presence of the Abbe Sicard, 
 and several of his deaf and dumb pupils. Thelwall delivered 
 a lecture to about sixty or seventy persons. He gave an ac- 
 count of his plan of curing impediments in the speech. He 
 makes his pupils read verse — beating time. And I have no 
 doubt that the effect is produced by the facility of repeating a 
 movement once begun, and partly by the effect of imagination. 
 The attention is fixed and directed by the movement and 
 time-beating. This simple fact, or phenomenon, Thelwall has 
 not distinctly perceived or comprehended. His boys read, or 
 rather recited, verse very pleasantly, and without stammering, 
 so as to produce an effect far more favorable to his system than 
 his own explanation of it. After this two hours' display we 
 dined, and in the evening Sicard's pupils afforded amusement 
 in the drawing-room by the correspondence they carried on 
 with the ladies. One of them wrote notes to Mrs. Rough, and 
 gave a gallant turn to all he wrote, for even the deaf and dumb 
 retain their national character. I wrote some ridiculous ques- 
 tion in Mrs. Rough's name. She wrote to him that I was an 
 advocate, and therefore not to be believed. He answered, " I 
 am glad to hear it, as he can defend me if I have the misfor- 
 tune to offend you." 
 
 July 7th. — I called on Amyot early, and found on going out 
 that Paris had been again taken by the allies. But the pub- 
 lic did not rejoice, for Paris had capitulated on honorable 
 terms, and Buonaparte had escaped. During the day Mr 
 
 * George Long, the barrister, and afterwards police magistrate. 
 
1815.] DR. BATHURST, BISHOP OF NORWICH. 317 
 
 Whitbread's death was more a subject of interest than the 
 possession of Paris. The death of so watchful a member of 
 Parliament is really a national loss. He belonged to the no- 
 blest class of mankind. 
 
 In the evening joined Amyot and his family, in the front 
 dress-boxes of Covent Garden. Miss O'Neil's Jane Shore, I 
 think, delighted me more than any character I have seen her 
 play. Her expression of disgust and horror when she meets with 
 her husband, as well as her general acting in that scene, are 
 as fine as can be conceived, coming from so uninteresting a 
 face. What a treasiu-e were Mrs. Siddons now as young as 
 Miss O'Neil ! 
 
 July 29th, — (At Norwich, on circuit.) This day was de- 
 voted to amusement, and accordingly passed away heavily. I 
 called after breakfast on Millard, and then went to Amyot, with 
 whom I spent the remainder of the day. He introduced me to 
 Dr. Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich. The bishop's manners are 
 very pleasing. His attentions to me would have been flatter- 
 ing, could I have thought them distinguishing, but probably 
 they proceed from a habit of courtesy. I had scarcely ex- 
 changed ten words with him when, speaking of ancient times 
 in reference to the former splendor of the buildings attached 
 to the Palace, he said : " Ah ! Mr. Eobinson, bishops had then 
 more power than you or I wish them to have," as if he knew I 
 was bom a Nonconformist. I afterwards met him in the gar- 
 dens, where a balloon was to ascend ; he was arm-in-arm with 
 a Roman Catholic, and on my going up to him he took hold of 
 me also, and remained with us a considerable time walking 
 about. On my uttering some jest about bishops in partihus, 
 he eulogized the Roman Catholic bishops in Ireland as emi- 
 nently apostolic. The bishop's manners are gentle, and his 
 air is very benignant. He is more gentlemanly than Gregoire. 
 and more sincere than Hohenfels. 
 
 Tour in Belgium and Holland. 
 
 Rem,* — The Battle of Waterloo having taken place in 
 June, I was determined to make a tour in Belgium, to which 
 I was also urged by my friend Thomas Nay lor, f who was my 
 
 * Written in 1850. 
 
 t Father of Samuel Xaylor, the translator of " Relneke Fuchs," and son of 
 Samuel Naylor, of Great Newport Street, agent to Mr. Francis, in whose office 
 Mr. Robinson was an articled clerk. H. C. R. says : " S. Naylor, Sen , took 
 me to the first play I ever saw in London; it was 'Peeping Tom of Coventry.' 
 I have forgotten all about it, excepting that I was troubled by the number oi 
 people on the stage, and that I saw and admired Jack Banister." 
 
318 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY OR ABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 travelling companion from Sunday, August 6th, to Saturday, 
 September 2d. 
 
 I kept a journal of this tour, and have just finished a hasty 
 perusal of it. It contains merely an account of what occurred 
 to myself, and the incidents were so unimpressive that the nar- 
 rative has brought to my recollection very few persons and 
 very few places. I shall, therefore, not be tempted to dwell 
 upon the events. 
 
 Naylor and I went to Margate on the 6th, and next day, 
 after visiting Ramsgate, embarked in a small and unpromising 
 vessel, which brought us to Ostend early on the following 
 morning. There were on board four young men, who, like 
 ourselves, were bound for Waterloo. We agreed to travel to- 
 gether, and I, being the only one who understood any language 
 but English, was elected governor ; most of us remained to- 
 gether till the end of the journey. I have lost sight of them 
 all, but I will give theii^ names. There w^as a young Scotch 
 M. D., named Stewart, w^hom I afterwards met in London, 
 when he told me the history of his good fortune. It was when 
 travelling in France, after our rencontre^ that he by accident 
 came to a country inn, w^here he found a family in great 
 alarm. An English lady was taken in premature labor. The 
 case was perilous. No medical man was there. He offered his 
 services, and continued to attend her until her husband, a 
 General, and personal friend of the Commander-in-Chief, Lord 
 Welling-ton, arrived. The General acknowledged him to be 
 the savior of his wife's life, and in return obtained for him a 
 profitable place on the medical staft' of the English army. 
 
 The other young men were Barnes, a surgeon, and two mer- 
 chants or merchants' clerks, Watkins and Williams. 
 
 Our journey lay through Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, Antwerp, 
 Breda, Utrecht, Amsterdam, Haarlem, Leyden, the Hague, 
 Delft, Rotterdam, and the Briel, to Helvoetsluys, and from 
 thence to Harwich. 
 
 No small part of the tour was in barges. One in particular 
 I enjoyed. It w^as the voyage from Bruges to Ghent, during 
 which I certainly had more pleasure than I had ever before had 
 on board a vessel, and with no alloy whatever. This canal voyage 
 is considered one of the best in the Netherlands, and our boat, 
 though not superbly furnished, possessed every convenience. 
 We took our passage in the state-cabin, over w^hich was an ele- 
 gant awning. I found I could write on board with perfect 
 ease ; but from time to time I looked out of the cabin window 
 
1815.] FIELD OF WATERLOO. 319 
 
 on a prospect pleasingly diversified by neat and comfortable 
 houses on the banks. The barge proceeded so slowly that we 
 could hardly perceive when it stopped. A man was walking 
 on the side of the canal for a great part of the w^ay, and I 
 therefore suppose our pace was not much more than fom- 
 miles an hour. 
 
 We embarked at half past ten, and at two o'clock an excel- 
 lent dinner was served up, consisting of fish, flesh, and fowl, 
 with rich pastry, and plenty of fruit. For this dinner, and the 
 voyage of between thirty and forty miles, we paid each bfr. 
 
 The main object of the tour was to visit the field of the re- 
 cent great Battle of Waterloo. It was on the 14th of August 
 w^hen we inspected the several points famous in the history of 
 this battle. Not all the vestiges of the conflict were removed. 
 There were arms of trees hanging down, shattered by cannon- 
 balls, and not yet cut off*. And there were ruined and burnt 
 cottages in many places, and marks of bullets and balls on 
 both houses and trees ; but I saw nothing in particular to im- 
 press me, except that in an inn near the field I had a glimpse 
 of a lady in weeds, who was come on a vain search after the body 
 of her husband, slain there. A more uninteresting country, 
 or one more fit for '^ a glorious victory," being flat and almost 
 without trees, than that round W^aterloo cannot be imagined. 
 I saw it some years afterwards, when ugly monuments were 
 erected there, and I can bear wdtness to the fact of the great 
 resemblance which the aspect of the neighborhood of Waterloo 
 bears to a village a mile from Cambridge, on the Bury road. 
 
 On the field and at other places the peasants brought us 
 relics of the fight. Dr. Stewart purchased a brass cuirass for 
 a napoleon, and pistols, &c. were sold to others. For my own 
 part, with no great portion of sentimental feeling, I could have 
 wished myself to pick up some memorial ; but a mere purchase 
 was not sufficient to satisfy me. 
 
 We dined at Waterloo. Our host was honest, for on my 
 ordering a dinner at 2/r. a head, he said he never made two 
 prices, and should charge only l^fr. In the village, which is 
 naked and wretched, a festival was being held in honor of the 
 patron saint ; but we were told that, in consequence of the 
 battle, and out of respect to brave men who lay there, there 
 was to be no dancing this year. 
 
 In the circular brick church of Waterloo we saw two plain 
 marble monuments, bearing simply the names of the officers 
 of the 1st Foot Guards and 15th King's Hussars who had fallen 
 
320 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 there. Even the reward of being so named is given but to 
 one in a thousand. Sixty thousand men are said to have been 
 killed or wounded at Waterloo. Will sixty be named here- 
 after ? 
 
 In general I admired the towns of Belgium, but Ghent was 
 my favorite. The fine architecture of the Catholic churches 
 of the Netherlands gratified me, while I was disgusted with the 
 nakedness and meanness of the Protestant churches of Hol- 
 land. 
 
 Among the few objects which have left any traces in my 
 memory, the one which impressed me most w^as the secluded 
 village of Broek, near Amsterdam. My journal for the 21st of 
 August contains the account of our visit to this village and 
 that of Saardam. The people of Broek live in a state of proud 
 seclusion from the rest of mankind, and, being industrious, are 
 able to banish the appearance of poverty, at least from their 
 cottages. We walked for about an hour through the narrow 
 streets, which are moated on a small scale. There were a 
 great number of inferior houses, but not a single poor one, — 
 all were adorned more or less. Most of them are painted white 
 and green, — some entirely green. In general the blinds were 
 closed, so that we could scarcely get a peep into any of them. 
 When we did look in we observed great neatness and simpli- 
 city, with marks of affluence at the same time. The shops had 
 a few goods in the windows as a sort of symbol, but were as 
 secluded as the private houses. 
 
 Scarcely an individual did we see in the streets. We met one 
 woman with a flat piece of gold or gilt metal on the forehead, and 
 a similar piece behind : she wore also long gold ear-rings. This, 
 how^ever, is not an unusual costume for the affluent peasantry 
 elsewhere. We pulled off" our hats to the Broek belle, but haci 
 no salutation in return. The general seclusion of the village, 
 from which nothing could be seen but meadows with ditches, 
 the silence of the streets, the perfect stillness and neatness of 
 the objects, every dwelling resembling a summer-house rather 
 than an ordinary residence, the cheerful and unusual colors, 
 and the absence of all the objects which denote a hard-working 
 race of men, gave to the whole place an air absolutely Arca- 
 dian. The only objects which disturbed this impression were 
 several houses of a better description, w4th large windows, 
 gilded shutters, carved frontispieces, and the other ornaments 
 of a fashionable house. One in particular had a porch with 
 Corinthian pillars, and a large garden with high, clipped trees. 
 
1815.] THE NORTH-HOLLANDERS. 321 
 
 One surgeon's house had an announcement that wine and 
 strong hquors were to be had, — as if these were still, in this 
 Dutch Arcadia, articles of medicine only. It is said that there 
 is no public-house in Broek. We saw one, but did not go in. 
 It did not look like the rest of the houses. 
 
 We were next driven to Saardam, where w^e visited the hut 
 which alone brings many an idle traveller to the place, and in 
 which Peter of Russia resided while he learnt the trade of 
 ship-building, performing the work of a common shipwright. 
 It is certainly right to perpetuate the memory of an act in 
 which an admirable sentiment prevailed, whatever want of 
 good sense and judgment there might be in it. The hut has 
 nothing particular about it, except that it is worse than the 
 other huts, it being of course a principle to keep it in its origi- 
 nal condition. While in this singular village we saw a school 
 in which the children were singing to the tune of " God save 
 the King." This is become the general tune throughout Eu- 
 rope for the partisans of legal and restored monarchs, though 
 originally written in honor of an elected sovereig-n house. 
 
 This belongs to the agreeable days of my tour. I had seen 
 life in a new^ shape, — one of the varieties of human existence 
 with which it is, or rather may he^ useful to become acquainted. 
 Yet I ought to add that I saw little of these North-Hollanders, 
 and cannot tell what their manners and morals may be. There 
 is certainly no virtue in selfish seclusion from the world. The 
 neighborhood of such a city as Amsterdam mnst supply oppor- 
 tunities for the vices w^hich will spring up in any soil. Yet, 
 certainly, in the insulated and clannish spirit which prevails 
 in these villages there is generated a benevolence, or extension 
 of selfishness beyond the individual, which may protect the 
 members of the clan and inhabitants of the island from the 
 severest evils of life. So that, though perhaps these peasants 
 are not especial objects of love or admiration, yet they may be 
 envied by those w^ho have witnessed, if not experienced, the 
 heavier calamities so frequently arising in the more polished 
 and more highly civilized circles of life elsewhere. 
 
 At Haarlem I heard the celebrated organ in the great 
 church. I am half afraid to say in writing how much I was 
 gratified. I have been in the habit of saying and believing 
 that I have no ear for music, and certainly I have suffered 
 ennui at listening to some which others thought very fine, but 
 to this I listened with delight, and was quite sorry when it 
 ceased. 
 
 14* 
 
£;2 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 I was amused with the gorgeous show in the Greek church 
 ^ Amsterdam. I was pleased with the Hague, and with the 
 Royal Palace called the House in the Wood. I was struck also 
 with the Bies Bosch, the melancholy memorial of a frightful 
 inundation near Dort, which took place in the fifteenth cen- 
 tury. 
 
 On the church tower of Utrecht I fell in with the Masque- 
 riers, with whom was Walton, an attorney. With him I after- 
 wards became acquainted. I returned to England on the 2d 
 of September. 
 
 September 22d. — At the end of a visit to my friends Mr. 
 and Mrs. W. Pattisson, at Witham, I went to take leave of Mrs. 
 Pattisson, Sen. She began interrogating me about my religious 
 opinions. This she did in a way so kind and benevolent that 
 I could not be displeased, or consider her impertinent. I was 
 unable to answer her as I could wish. However, I did not 
 
 scruple to declare to her that such orthodoxy as Mr. N 's 
 
 would deter me from Christianity. I cannot wish to have a 
 belief which excludes from salvation such persons as my own 
 dear mother, my uncle Crabb, and a large portion of the best 
 people I have ever known. 
 
 October Jfth. — (On a visit to my brother Habakkuk at Bag- 
 shot.) After dining tete-a-tete with my niece Elizabeth, and 
 playing backgammon with her, we called on Mrs. Kitchener 
 and took tea with her. Mrs. Cooper (the widow of the former 
 clergyman at Bagshot), who was there, related to me some 
 singular circumstances about the state of her husband's mind 
 in his last illness. He was then more than eighty years of 
 age. He imagined himself to be dead, and gave directions as 
 for the burial of a dead man ; and he remained in this persua- 
 sion for several weeks. At one time he desired a note to be 
 sent to the Duke of Gloucester announcing his death. At 
 another time he desired that the mourners might be well pro- 
 vided for, and inquired about the preparations made. In par- 
 ticular on one occasion when a clean shirt was being put on, 
 he reminded the servants that, being a corpse, they must put 
 on nothing but woollen, or they would incur a penalty. 
 When told that, if dead, he could not talk about it, he for 
 a moment perceived the absurdity of his notion, but soon 
 relapsed. 
 
 October 26th. — At work in my chambers in the forenoon. 
 
!815.] HANNAH xMORE'S TRAGEDY. 323 
 
 After dining at Collier's I went to Flaxman's. I had not seen 
 him for many months, and was glad to find all the family well, 
 Mrs. Flaxman in particular recovered. We chatted about my 
 journey to Holland. Flaxman speaks with contempt of Dutch 
 statuary. He rejoices in the restoration of the works of art to 
 Italy.*'' 
 
 November 5th. — (At Royston on a visit to Mr. Wedd. ) We 
 dined late. W. Nash and T. Nash of Whittlesford with us. 
 The afternoon spent agreeably. In the evening Mr. Nash came 
 to us. He was in good spirits. The cheerful benignity of the 
 old gentleman renders him delightful, but age is advancing 
 rapidly on him, and his faculties are growing blind with years. 
 He is, however, with all his infirmities, the model of a ven- 
 erable old man. It is a felicity to live within the influence 
 of such a character, who creates a society by his personal 
 virtues. 
 
 November 11th, — Went to see the play of " Percy," by 
 Hannah More. It is much like ^^ Gabrielle de Vergy." The 
 situation is highly interesting. A chaste and noble-minded 
 woman having been forced to marry a man she hates, the rival, 
 whom she loves, suddenly returns, ignorant of her marriage. 
 The husband furiously jealous and cruel, (kc, &c. Of course 
 they all die as in "- Gabrielle." Miss O'Neil gave great interest 
 to the play during the first three acts. Her tenderness is ex- 
 quisite, and her expression of disgust and horror, while she 
 averts her countenance and hides it with her hands, is pecu- 
 liarly masterly. This single expression she has elaborately 
 studied. Young played the jealous husband with spirit, but 
 Charles Kemble was a mere ranting lover as Percy. He ought 
 not to have given the name to the play. 
 
 November 12th. — Continued reading Wraxall. A repartee 
 of Burke's pleased me. David Hartley, Member for Hull, was 
 the dullest of speakers in the House of Commons. Having 
 spoken so long as to drive away the greater number of the 
 members (more than three hundred having dwindled down to 
 eighty), he moved that the Riot Act should be read at the 
 table, on which Burke, who sat next him, exclaimed : " My 
 
 * When, in 1815, the allied sovereigns arrived in Paris, they insisted upon 
 the restoration of the objects of art which had been pillaged from various 
 places by the orders of Napoleon. " A memorial from all the artists of Europe 
 at Rome claimed for the Eternal City the entire restoration of the immortal 
 works of art which had once adorned it. The allied sovereigns acceded to the 
 just demand; and Canova, impassioned for the arts, and the city of his choice, 
 hastened to Paris to superintend the removal. It was most effectually done." 
 — Alison's Europe^ Vol. XII., 286, 9th edition. 
 
324 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 dear friend ! why, in God's name, read the Riot Act 1 Do not 
 you see that the mob are dispersed already 1 '' * 
 
 Novewher IJfth. — Dined at the Hall. After nine I called 
 on Charles Lamb. He was much better in health and spirits 
 than w^hen I saw him last. Though tete-a-tete, he w^as able to 
 pun. I was speaking of my first brief, w^hen he asked, '' Did 
 you not exclaim, — 
 
 Thou great first cause, least understood ? " 
 
 Novemher 22d, — Accompanied Miss Nash to the theatre, 
 and saw "^ Tamerlane,'' a very dull play. It is more stuffed 
 with trite declamation, and that of an inferior kind, than any 
 piece I recollect. It is a compendium of political common- 
 places. And the piece is not the more valuable because the 
 doctrines are very wholesome and satisfactory. Tamerlane is 
 a sort of regal Sir Charles Grandison, — a perfect king, very 
 wise and insipid. He w^as not unfitly represented by Pope, if 
 the character be intended merely as a foil to that of the fero- 
 cious Bajazet. Kean performed that character throughout 
 under the idea of his being a two-legged heast. He rushed on 
 the stage at his fii^st appearance as a wild beast may be sup- 
 posed to enter a new den to which his keepers have transferred 
 him. His tartan w^hiskers improved the natural excellence of 
 his face ; his projecting under-lip and admirably expressive 
 eye gave to his countenance all desirable vigor ; and his exhi- 
 bition of rage and hatred was very excellent. But there was 
 no relief as there would have been had the bursts of feeling 
 been only occasional. In the happy representation of one 
 passion Kean afforded me great pleasure ; but this was all I 
 enjoyed. 
 
 Novemher 2Jf.th. — I called on Lamb, and chatted an hour 
 with him. Talfourd stepped in, and we had a pleasant con- 
 versation. Lamb has a very exclusive taste, and spoke with 
 equal contempt of Voltaire's Tales and ''' Gil Bias." He may 
 be right in thinking the latter belongs to a low class of com- 
 positions, but he ought not to deny that it has excellence of its 
 kind. 
 
 Novemher 27t1u — I dined at Collier's, and somewhat late 
 went to Mrs. Joddrel's. There was an illumination to-night for 
 the Peace, but it did not occur to me to look at a single public 
 building, and I believe no one cared about it. A duller re- 
 
 * ^ Historical Memoirs of my Own Time," by Sir N. W. Wraxall. Vol. II. 
 p. 377. 
 
1815.] HAZLITT. — COULSON. — KEAN. 325 
 
 joicing could not be conceived. There was hardly a crowd in 
 the streets. 
 
 December 5th, — Went to the Surrey Institution in the even- 
 ing, and heard a lecture on the Philosophy of Art, by Land- 
 seer.* He is animated in his style, but his animation is pro- 
 duced by indulgence in sarcasms, and in emphatic diction. He 
 pronounces his words in italics ; and by coloring strongly he 
 produces an effect easily. 
 
 December 7th, — I spent several hours at the Clerkenwell 
 Sessions. A case came before the court ludicrous from the 
 minuteness required in the examination. Was the pauper 
 settled in parish A or B '? The house he occupied was in 
 both parishes, and models both of the house and the bed in 
 which the pauper slept were laid before the court, that it 
 might ascertain how much of his body lay in each parish. 
 The court held the pauper to be settled where his head (being 
 the nobler part) lay, though one of his legs at least, and 
 great part of his body, lay out of that parish. Quod notan- 
 dum est ! 
 
 December 9th. — I read term reports in the forenoon, and 
 after dining with the Colliers returned to my chambers till 
 seven, when I went to Alsager's. There T met the Lambs, 
 Hazlitt, Burrell, Ayrton, Coulson, Sleigh, &c. I enjoyed the 
 evening, though I lost at cards, as I have uniformly done. 
 Hazlitt was sober, argumentative, acute, and interesting. I 
 did not converse with him, but enjoyed his conversation with 
 others. Lamb was good-humored and droll, with great origi- 
 nality, as usual. Coulson was a new man almost to me. He is 
 said to be a prodigy of knowledge, — a young eleve of Jeremy 
 Bentham, — a reporter for The Chronicle, 
 
 December 19th. — Spent the morning at Guildhall agreeably, 
 xifter dining at the Colliers', I took a hasty cup of tea with 
 Naylor, and was followed by him to Drury Lane Theatre. We 
 saw Beaumont and Fletcher's play of "■ The Beggar's Bush." 
 For the first time I saw Kean without any pleasure whatever. 
 He has no personal dignity to supply the want of dress. No 
 one suspects the Prince in the Merchant, and even as the Mer- 
 
 * John Landseer, an engraver of considerable talent, and father of the present 
 Sir Edwin Landseer. He was born at Lincoln, 1769. In his later years the pen 
 superseded the burin. He delivered a course of lectures on engraving at the 
 Royal Listitution in 1806; his best known literary works are " Sabaean 
 Researches " and a " Descriptive Catalogue of Pictures in the National Gal- 
 lery.*' His best engraving is from his son's well-known picture, " The Dogs of 
 St."^ Bernard." He died in February, 1852. 
 
326 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. I6 
 
 chant he has not an ah* of munificence. He inspires no re- 
 spect whatever ; and he has no opportunity for the display 
 of his pecuHar excellence, — biu*sts of passion. The beggar- 
 scenes and the loyal burgomaster of Bruges are very pleasant. 
 *^ Who's Who ] " a farce by Poole, has an amusing scene or 
 two. Munden as a knavish Apothecary's shopman, and Har- 
 ley as the Apothecary, are very comic. By the by, Harley is 
 a young and promising actor. 
 
 December 23d. — I read several chapters of Paley's '' Evi- 
 dences of Christianity," having resolved to read attentively 
 and seriously that and other works on a subject transcend ently 
 important, and which I am ashamed thus long to have delayed 
 studying. I dined with the Colliers and spent some time at 
 home, taking tea alone. I called on Long, and had a short 
 chat with him. The lively pleasure he expressed at my inform- 
 ing him of the books I intended to study quite gratified me. 
 He is a most excellent creature. I look up to him with admi- 
 ration the more I see of him. 
 
 December 27th. — Spent the morning at home reading indus- 
 triously law reports. I dined with Collier, and having read 
 again in my room, I went after six o'clock to Thelwall's, and 
 was present at an exhibition which was more amusing than I 
 expected. ^^Comus" was performed by Thelwall's family and 
 his pupils. The idea of causing Milton's divine verse to be 
 theatrically recited by a troop of stutterers is comic enough, 
 but Thelwall has so far succeeded in his exertions, that he can 
 enable persons who originally had strong impediments in theii' 
 speech to recite verse very agreeably. Thelwall inserted some 
 appropriate short verses, to be delivered by the younger chil- 
 dren as Bacchanals in an interlude, which had a pleasing effect. 
 He teaches his boys to read with a cantilena ; and the accent 
 at the close of their lines is very agreeable. It is only when 
 such words as decision are pronounced as four syllables, that we 
 are reminded of the master uncomfortably. 
 
 December Slst, — I spent this morning at my chambers, 
 but Thomas breakfasted with me, and Habakkuk came after- 
 wards. 
 
 At half past five T went with the Amyots to Mr. Hallet's, 
 and dined there. It was a family party, and the evening 
 passed aw^ay comfortably. I was in good spirits, and the rest 
 of the party agreeable. The year was dismissed not festively 
 but cheerfully. 
 
 It has been, like most of the years of my life, a year of un- 
 
1816.] A LEGAL SUBTLETY. 327 
 
 interrupted health and prosperity. Besides, it is a year in 
 which I have been so successful in my profession, that I have 
 a prospect of affluence if the success continues, which I dare 
 not expect, and about w^hich I am far less anxious than I used 
 to be. I do not now fear poverty. I am not, nor ever was, 
 desirous of riches, but my wants do not, perhaps, increase in 
 proportion to my means. My brother Thomas makes it a re- 
 proach to me that I do not indulge myself more. This I do 
 not think a duty, and shall probably not make a practice. I 
 hope I shall not contract habits of parsimony.* 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 1816. 
 
 JANUARY 9th. — (At Norwich.) This morning I went im- 
 mediately after breakfast to a Jew dentist, C , who put 
 
 in a natural tooth in the place of one I swallowed yesterday. 
 He assured me it came from Waterloo, and promised me it 
 should outlast twelve artificial teeth. 
 
 January 17th, — (At Bury.) I called with sister on Mrs. 
 Clarkson, to take leave of her. The Clarksons leave Bury to- 
 day, and are about to settle on a farm (Play ford) near Ipswich. 
 No one deserves of the present race more than Clarkson to have 
 what Socrates proudly claimed of his judges, — a lodging in 
 the Prytaneion at the public expense. This ought to exclude 
 painful anxiety on his account, if the farm should not succeed. 
 They were in good spirits. 
 
 February 6th. — I attended the Common Pleas this morn- 
 ing, expecting that a demurrer on which we had a consultation 
 last night would come on, but it did not. I heard, however, 
 an argument worthy of the golden age of the English law, sciL 
 the age of the civil wars between the Houses of York and Lan- 
 caster, when the subtleties and refinements of the law were in 
 high flourishing condition, — or the silver age, that of the 
 Stuarts. An almshouse corporation, the warden and poor of 
 Croydon, in Surrey, on the foundation of Archbishop Whitgift, 
 brought an action for rent against their tenant. He pleaded 
 
 * These remarks were occasioned by the rise in H. C. R.'s fees from £ 219 
 in 1814, to £ 321 15 s. in the present year ! 
 
328 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 that, for a good and valuable consideration, they had sold hin^ 
 the land, as authorized by the statute, for redeeming land-tax. 
 They replied that, in their conveyance, in setting out their 
 title, they had omitted the words, '' of the foundation of Arch- 
 bishop Whitgift," and therefore they contended the deed was 
 void, and that they might still recover their rent, as before. 
 Good sense and honesty prevailed over technical sense. 
 
 Fehriiary 11th, — ^ I walked to Newington, and dined with 
 Mrs. Barbauld and Miss Finch. Miss Hamond and Charles 
 Aikin were there. As usual, we were very comfortable. Mrs. 
 Barbauld can keep up a lively argumentative conversation as 
 well as any one I know ; and at her advanced age (she is 
 turned of seventy), she is certainly the best specimen of 
 female Presbyterian society in the country. N. B. — Anthony 
 Robinson requested me to inquire whether she thought the 
 doctrine of Universal Restoration scriptural. She said she 
 thought we must bring to the interpretation of the Scriptures 
 a very liberal notion of the beneficence of the Deity to find the 
 doctrine there. 
 
 February 12th. — I dined with the Colliers, and in the even- 
 ing went to Drury Lane with Jane Collier and Miss Lamb, to 
 see " A New Way to pay Old Debts," a very spirited comedy 
 by Massinger. Kean's Sir Giles Overreach is a very fine piece 
 of acting indeed. His rage at the discovery of the fraud in the 
 marriage of his daughter is wrought up to a wonderful height, 
 and becomes almost too tragical. On the contrary, Munden, 
 who also plays admirably the part of a knavish confidant, is 
 infinitely comical, and in one or two instances he played too 
 well, for he disturbed the impression which Kean was to raise 
 by the equally strong effect of his own acting. Oxberry played 
 Greedy, the hungry magistrate, pleasantly, and Harley was 
 thought to perform Wellborn well ; but he displeases me in 
 this, that he seems to have no keeping. Sometimes he re- 
 minds one of Banister, sometimes Lewis ; so that at last he 
 is neither a character nor himself. Mrs. Glover was agreeable 
 in playing Lady Allworth. 
 
 Fehriiary 15th. — A curious argument on the law of Primo- 
 geniture. It w^as used by my friend Pattisson, and is a scrip- 
 tural one. In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the father says 
 to his dissatisfied elder son, " Son, all that I have is thine," 
 which is a recognition of the right in the first-born. 
 
 February 25th. — At eight I went to Rough's, where I met 
 Kean, — I should say to see him, not to hear him ; for he 
 
1816.] COLERIDGE HIS OWN PUBLISHER. 329 
 
 scarcely spoke. I should hardly have known him. He has 
 certainly a fine eye, but his features were relaxed, as if he had 
 undergone great fatigue. When he smiles, his look is rather 
 constrained than natural. He is but a small man, and from 
 the gentleness of his manners no one would anticipate the 
 actor who excels in bursts of passion, 
 
 March 10th, — (On Circuit at Bedford.) I was a little scan- 
 dalized by the observation of the clerk of a prosecutor's so- 
 licitor, in a case in which I was engaged for the prosecution, 
 that there was little evidence against one of the defendants, 
 
 — that, in fact, he had not been very active in the riots, 
 
 — but he was a sarcastic fellow, and they wished to punish 
 him by putting him to the expense of a defence without any 
 expectation of convicting him ! 
 
 April 6th, — I rode to London by the old Cambridge coach, 
 from ten to four. 
 
 Soon after I arrived I met Miss Lamb by accident, and in 
 consequence took tea with her and Charles. T found Coleridge 
 and Morgan at their house. Coleridge had been ill, but he was 
 then, as before, loquacious, and in his loquacity mystically elo- 
 quent. He is endeavoring to bring a tragedy on the stage, in 
 which he is not likely, I fear, to succeed ; and he is printing 
 two volumes of Miscellanies, including a republication of his 
 poems. But he is printing without a publisher ! He read me 
 some metaphysical passages, which will be laughed at by nine 
 out of ten readers ; but I am told he has written popularly, and 
 about himself. Morgan is looking very pale, — rather unhappy 
 than ill. He attends Coleridge with his unexampled assiduity 
 and kindness. 
 
 April 21st. — After dining I rode to Wattisfield by the day- 
 coach. I reached my uncle Crabb's by tea-time, and had an 
 agreeable evening with him and Mrs. Crabb. I was pleased to 
 revive some impressions which years have rendered inter- 
 esting. 
 
 April 22d. — This was an indolent day, but far from an un- 
 pleasant one. I sat with Mr. and Mrs. Crabb a great part of 
 the morning, and afterwards walked with Mr. Crabb, who was 
 on horseback, through the street to Hill Green Farm. On the 
 road family anecdotes and village narratives, suggested by the 
 objects in view, rendered the walk agTeeable to us both. Mr. 
 Crabb is arrived at an age when it is a prime pleasure to relate 
 the history of his early years ; and I am always an interested 
 listener on such occasions. I am never tired by personal 
 
330 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 talk.* The half-literary conversation of half-learned people, 
 the commonplaces of politics and religious dispute, are to me 
 intolerable ; but the passions of men excited by their genuine 
 and immediate personal interest always gain my sympathy, or 
 sympathy is supplied by the observations they suggest. And 
 in such conversations there is more truth and originality and 
 variety than in the others, in which, particularly in reUgious 
 conversations, there is a mixture of either Pharisaical impos- 
 ture or imperfect self-deception. Men on such occasions talk 
 to convince themselves, not because they have feelings they 
 must give vent to. 
 
 April 27th, — (At Cambridge.) I walked to the coffee-room 
 and read there the beginning of the trial of Wilson, Bruce, and 
 Hutchinson, for concealing Lavalette. In the examination of 
 Sir R. Wilson, previous to the trial, he gave one answer which 
 equals anything ever said by an accused person so examined. 
 He was asked, " Were you applied to, to assist in concealing 
 Lavalette '? " — " I was." — " Who applied to you V'—"l was 
 born and educated in a country in which the social virtues are 
 considered as public virtues, and I have not trained my mem- 
 ory to a breach of friendship and confidence." 
 
 I dined in the Hall. Each mess of four was allowed an ex- 
 tra bottle of w^ine and a goose, in honor of the marriage of the 
 Princess Charlotte of Wales and the Prince of Saxe-Coburg, 
 which took place this evening. 
 
 May Jftli, — I rode to Bury on the outside of the " Day " 
 
 coach from six to three Between nine and ten we were 
 
 alarmed by the intelligence that a fire had broken out. I ran 
 out, fearing it was at one of the Mr. Bucks ; but it was at a 
 great distance. Many people were on the road, most of whom 
 were laughing, and seemingly enjoying the fire. This was the 
 fifth or sixth fire that had taken place within a week or two, 
 and there could be no doubt it was an act of arson. These 
 very alarming outrages began some time since, and the pretence 
 was the existence of threshing-machines. The farmers in the 
 neighborhood have surrendered them up, and exposed them 
 broken on the high-road. Besides, the want of work by the 
 poor, and the diminished price of labor, have roused a danger- 
 ous spirit in the common people, — when roused, the most 
 formidable of enemies. 
 
 * It was otherwise with his friend Wordsworth : — 
 
 " I am not one who much or oft doHght 
 To season my fireside with personal talk." 
 
 Sonnets entitled " Personal Talk." Vol. IV. p. 200. 
 
1816.] BUONAPARTISM. 331 
 
 May 28th. — Called on Godwin. He was lately with 
 Wordsworth, and, after spending a night at his house, seems 
 to have left him with feelings of strong political difference ; 
 and it was this alone, I believe, which kept them aloof from 
 each other. I have learned to bear with the intolerance of 
 others when I understand it. While Buonaparte threatened 
 Europe with his all-embracing military despotism, I felt that all 
 other causes of anxiety and fear were insignificant, and I was 
 content to forget the natural tendencies of the regular govern- 
 ments to absolute power, of the people in those states to cor- 
 ruption, and of Roman Catholicism to a stupid and degrading 
 religious bigotry. In spite of these tendencies, Europe was 
 rising morally and intellectually, when the French Revolution, 
 after promising to advance the world rapidly in its progress 
 towards perfection, suddenly, by the woful tarn it took, threw 
 the age back in its expectations, almost in its wishes, till at 
 last, from alarm and anxiety, even zealous reformers were glad 
 to compromise the cause of liberty, and purchase national in- 
 dependence and political liberty at the expense of civil liberty 
 in France, Italy, &c. Most intensely did I rejoice at the 
 counter-Revolution. I had also rejoiced, when a boy, at the 
 Revolution, and I am ashamed of neither sentiment. And I 
 shall not be ashamed, though the Bourbon government should 
 be as vile as any which France was cursed with under the ances- 
 tors of Louis XVIII. , and though the promises of liberty given 
 to the Germans by their sovereigns should all be broken, and 
 though Italy and Spain should relapse into the deepest horrors 
 of Papal superstition. To rejoice in immediate good is per- 
 mitted to us. The immediate alone is within our scope of 
 action and observation. But now that the old system is re- 
 stored, with it the old cares and apprehensions revive also. 
 And I am sorry that Wordsworth cannot change with the 
 times. He ought, I think, now to exhort our government to 
 economy, and to represent the dangers of a thoughtless return 
 to all that was in existence twenty-five years ago. Of the in- 
 tegrity of Wordsworth I have no doubt, and of his genius I 
 have an unbounded admiration ; but I doubt the discretion 
 and wisdom of his latest political writings. 
 
 June 12th. — Flaxman spoke about West. I related the an- 
 ecdote in his Life * of his first seeing the Apollo, and comparing 
 
 * The Life and Studies of Benjamin West, Esq., President of the Roval 
 Academy of London, prior to his Arrival in England, compiled from Materials 
 funiisked |)y Himself." By John Gait. London, 1816. Tiiis book was pub- 
 
332 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 it to a Mohawk warrior. Flaxman laughed, and said it was 
 the criticism of one almost as great a savage ; for though there 
 might be a coarse similarity in the attitude, Apollo having 
 shot an arrow, yet the figure of the Mohawk must have been 
 altogether unlike that of the god. This anecdote Flaxman 
 says he heard West relate more than twenty years ago, in a 
 discourse delivered as President of the Academy. The an- 
 ecdotes of West's first drawing before he had seen a picture 
 Flaxman considers as fabulous. 
 
 June IJfth. — Manning, after breakfasting with me, accom- 
 panied me to the Italian pictures.* The gratification was not 
 less than before. The admirable " Ecce Homo " of Guido in 
 particular delighted me, and also Murillo's " Marriage at 
 Cana." Amyot joined me there. Also I met Flaxman, and 
 with him was Martin Shee, whom I chatted with. Shee was 
 strong in his censure of allegory, and incidentally adverted to 
 a lady who reproached him with being unable to relish a cer- 
 tain poet because he wanted piety. The lady and poet, it ap- 
 peared, were Lady Beaumont and Wordsworth. Both Flaxman 
 and Shee defended the conceit in the picture of the " Holy 
 Family in the Stable," in which the light issues from the 
 child ] and Flaxman quoted in its justification the expression 
 of the Scriptures, that Christ came as a light, (kc. 
 
 June 2Sd. — I dined at Mr. Rutt's. I had intended to sleep 
 there ; but as Mr. Rutt goes early to bed, I preferred a late 
 walk home, from half past ten to twelve. And I enjoyed the 
 walk, though the evening was not very fine. I met a tipsy 
 man, whom I chatted with, and as he was a laborer of the low- 
 est class, but seemingly of a quiet mind, I was glad to meet 
 with so fair a specimen of mob feeling. He praised Sir Francis 
 
 lished during the painter's life. A Second Part, relating to his life and studies 
 after his arrival in England, appeared just after his death in 1820, most of it 
 having been printed during his last illness. The anecdote referred to will be 
 found in the First Part, p. 105. 
 
 * At the British Institution, previously Boydell's Shakespeare Gallery, in 
 Pall Mall, and within the last few months'^ destroyed. This Exhibition, opened 
 in May, 1816, was the first collection which the directors had formed of Italian 
 and Spanish paintings. The "Ecce Homo" by Guido, mentioned in the text, 
 was probably the one (No. 33 of the Catalogue) from Stratton, belonging to Sir 
 T. Baring. "^A second " Ecce Homo." No. 55, then belonging to Mr. West, and 
 afterwards bequeathed by the poet Rogers to the National Gallery, would have 
 been too painful in treatment to have elicited the expression used above. Mu- 
 rillo's "Marriage at Cana," No. 10 of the Catalogue, then belonged to Mr. G. 
 Hibbert. It had formerly been in the Julienne, Presle, and Robit Collections. 
 It is now at Tottenham Park, Wilts, the propertv of the Marquis of Ailesburv'. 
 The " Holy Family in the Stable " was the " Adoration of the Magi," either 
 No. 22, the fine Paul Veronese, from the Crozat Collection, or 115, the Carle 
 Dolci, belonging respectively to the Earl of Aberdeen and to Earl Cowper, 
 
1816.] ''TIMES" DINNER-PARTY. 333 
 
 Burdett as the people's friend and only good man in the king- 
 dom ; yet he did not seem to think flogging either sailors or 
 soldiers a very bad thing. He had been assisting in building 
 the new Tothill Fields Prison, and said he would rather be 
 hanged than imprisoned there seven years. He was somewhat 
 mysterious on this head. He said he would never sing, ^' Brit- 
 ons never shall be Slaves," for BritoDs are all slaves. Yet he 
 wished for war, because there would be work for the poor. If 
 this be the general feeling of the lower classes, the public peace 
 can only be preserved by a vigilant police and severe laws. 
 
 July Jftlu — I dined with Walter. A small party. Dr. 
 Stoddart, Sterling, Sydenham, &c. The dinner was small but 
 of the first quality, — turbot, turtle, and venison, fowls and 
 ham ; wines, champagne, and claret. Sydenham was once re- 
 puted to be '^ Yetus," but his conversation is only intelligent 
 and anecdotic and gentlemanly ; he is neither logical, nor sar- 
 castic, nor pointedly acute. He is therefore certainly not 
 *' Vetus." He is a partisan of the Wellesleys, having been 
 with the Duke in India. Sterling is a sensible man. They 
 were all unfavorable to the actual ministry, and their fall 
 within six months was very confidently announced. 
 
 July 6th. — I took tea with Mrs. Barbauld, and played chess 
 
 with her till late. Miss H was there, and delighted at the 
 
 expectation of hearing a song composed by her sung at Covent 
 Garden. When, however, I mentioned this to her brother, in 
 a jocular manner, he made no answer, and seemed almost of- 
 fended. Sometimes I regret a want of sensibility in my nature, 
 but when such cases of perverted intensit}^ of feeling are brought 
 to my observation, I rejoice at my neutral apathetic character, 
 as better than the more sanguine and choleric temperament, 
 which is so dangerous at the same time that it is so popular 
 and respectable. The older I grow, the more I am satisfied, 
 on prudential grounds, with the constitution of my sensitive 
 nature. I am persuaded that there are very few persons who 
 suffer so little pain of all kinds as I do ; and if the absence of 
 vice be the beginning of virtue, so the absence of suffering is 
 the beginning of enjoyment. I must confess, however, that I 
 think my own nature an object of felicitation rather than ap- 
 plause. 
 
 July ISth. — An unsettled morning. My print of Leonardo 
 da Vinci's " Vierge aux Rochers " was brought home framed. I 
 took it to Miss Lamb as a present. She was much pleased with 
 it, and so was Lamb, and I lost much of the morning in chat- 
 
334 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 ting with Miss Lamb. I dined at the Colliers'. After dinner 
 I went to Lamb's and took tea with him. White of the India 
 House was there. We played three rubbers of whist. Lamb 
 was in great good-humor, delighted like a child with his pres- 
 ent ; but I am to change the frame for him, as all his other 
 frames are black. How Lamb confirms the remark of the child- 
 likeness of genius ! 
 
 Sunday^ IJfth, — I walked to Becher, and he accompanied 
 me to Oilman's, an apothecary at Highgate, with whom Cole- 
 ridge is now staying. And he seems to have profited already 
 by the abstinence from opium, &c., for I never saw him look 
 so well. He talked very sensibly, but less eloquently and ve- 
 hemently than usual. He asked me to lend him some books, 
 &c., and related a history of the great injustice done him in 
 the reports circulated about his losing books. And certainly I 
 ought not to join in the reproach, for he gave me to-day Kant's 
 works, three vols., miscellaneous. Coleridge talked about 
 Goethe's work on the theory of colors, and said he had some 
 years back discovered the same theory, and would certainly 
 have reduced it to form, and published it, had not Soiithey 
 diverted his attention from such studies to poetry. On my 
 mentioning that I had heard that an English work had been 
 published lately, developiijg the same system, Coleridge an- 
 swered, with great naivete^ that he was very free in communi- 
 cating his thoughts on the subject w^herever he went, and 
 among literary people. 
 
 July 18th, — The day was showery, but not very unpleasant. 
 I read and finished Ooethe's first No. " Ueber Kunst," &c., 
 giving an account of the works of art to be met with on the 
 Rhine. It is principally remarkable as evincing the great 
 poet's generous and disinterested zeal for the arts. He seems 
 to rejoice as cordially in whatever can promote the intellectual 
 prosperity of his country as in the success of his own great 
 masterpieces of art. His account of the early painting dis- 
 covered at Cologne, and of the discovered design of the 
 Cathedral, is very interesting indeed. I also read "Des 
 Epimenides Erwachen," a kind of mask. It is an allegory, and 
 of course has no gi'eat pretensions ; but there are fine moral 
 and didactic lines in very beautiful diction. 
 
 July 2Sd, — (At Bury.) This day was spent in court from 
 ten to half past five. It w^as occupied in the trial of sevei-al 
 sets of rioters, the defence of whom Leach brought me. I was 
 better pleased with myself than yesterday, and I succeeded i^ 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
i 
 
 1816.] TRIALS OF AGRICULTURAL RIOTERS. 335 
 
 getting off some individuals who would ottierwise have been 
 convicted. In the trial of fifteen Stoke rioters, who broke a 
 threshing-machine, I made rather a long speech, but with little 
 effect. All were convicted but two, against whom no evidence 
 was brought. I urged that the evidence of mere presence 
 against four others was not sufficient to convict them ; and had 
 not the jury been very stupid, and the foreman quite incompe- 
 tent, there would have been an acquittal. 
 
 On the trial of five rioters at Clare, I submitted to the con- 
 viction of four. One was acquitted. 
 
 On the trial of six rioters at Hunden, three were convicted, 
 for they were proved to have taken an active share in destroy- 
 ing the threshing-machine. Alderson, who conducted all the 
 prosecutions, consented to acquit one, and two others were ac- 
 quitted because the one witness who swore to more than 
 mere presence was contradicted by two witnesses I called, 
 though the contradiction was not of the most pleasing 
 kind. 
 
 We adjourned at half past five. One trial for a conspiracy 
 took place, in which I had no concern, and it was the only con- 
 tested matter in which I was not employed, — a very gratifying 
 and promising circumstance. 
 
 July 2Jfih. — I was in court from ten o'clock to three. The 
 Rattlesden rioters, thirty in number, were tried. All were 
 convicted except four, whom Alderson consented to discharge, 
 and one who proved that he was compelled to join the rioters. 
 Morgan, a fine, high-spirited old man of near seventy, who 
 alone ventured among the mob, defying them without receiving 
 any injury and by his courage gaining universal respect, de- 
 posed with such particularity to every one of the rioters, that 
 it was in vain to make any defence. I made some general 
 observations in behalf of the prisoners, and the Bench, 
 having sentenced one to two years' imprisonment, and others 
 to one year and six months' imprisonment, dismissed the 
 greater number on their finding security for their good be- 
 havior. 
 
 August 3d. — (Bedford.) An agreeable day, being relieved 
 from the burdensome society of the circuit. I breakfasted 
 with Mr. Green, and about ten, Swabey and Jameson accom- 
 panied me to the village of Cardington. Here we looked over 
 the parish church, in which is erected a beautiful monument 
 by Bacon in memoiy of the elder Whi thread. Two female 
 figiu-es in alto and basso relief are supporting a dying figure. 
 
336 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 The church has other monuments of less elaborate workman- 
 ship, and is throughout an interesting village church, very neat 
 and handsome without finery. 
 
 Jameson and I then looked into the garden of Captain 
 Waldegrave, remarkable as having been planted by the cele- 
 brated John Howard, who lived here before he undertook the 
 voyages which rendered his life and his death memorable. An 
 old man, Howard's gardener, aged eighty-six, showed us the 
 grotto left in the condition in which it was when Howard lived 
 there. The garden is chiefly interesting from the recollections 
 which it introduces of the very excellent man who resided 
 on the spot, and in which should be placed, as the most sig- 
 nificant and desirable memorial, some representation of his 
 person. The village is very pretty. Howard's family are 
 buried in the church, and there is a small tablet to his mem- 
 ory : " John Howard, died at Cherson, in Russian Tartary. 
 January 20, 1790." 
 
 July 19th. — (Ipswich.) I rose at six, and enjoyed a leis- 
 urely walk to Playford, at four miles' distance, over a very 
 agreeable country, well cultivated and diversified by gentle 
 hills. Playford Hall stands in a valley. It consists of one 
 half of an ancient hall of considerable antiquity, which had 
 originally consisted of a regular three-sided edifice, a row of 
 columns having filled the fourth side of the square. There is 
 a moated ditch round the building, and by stopping the issue 
 of water, which enters by a never-failing, though small stream, 
 the ditch may be filled at any time. The mansion is of 
 brick, and the walls are very thick indeed. Some ancient 
 chimneys, and some large windows with stone frames of good 
 thickness, show the former splendor of the residence. Lord 
 Bristol is the owner of the estate, to which belongs four or ^yq 
 hundred acres, and which Mr. Clarkson now has on a twenty- 
 one years' lease. Mr. Clarkson, on my arrival, showed me 
 about the garden ; and after I had breakfasted, Mrs. Clarkson 
 came down, and I spent a long morning very agreeably with 
 her. We walked to the parish church,, up and down the 
 valley, round the fields, &c., and I readily sympathized with 
 Mrs. Clarkson in the pleasure with which she expatiated on the 
 comforts of the situation, and in the hope of their continued 
 residence there. 
 
 Rem* — To this place Mr. Clarkson retired after the great 
 work — the only work he projected, viz. the abolition of the 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
1816.] TOUR TO THE LAKES. 337 
 
 slave-trade — was effected ; not anticipating that slavery itself 
 would be abolished by our government in his day. This, how- 
 ever, would hardly have taken place had it not been for his ex- 
 ertions to accomplish the first step. 
 
 W^en the present extent of the evil is adverted to, as it fre- 
 quently is, ungenerously, in order to lessen the merit of the 
 abolitionists, it is always forgotten that if, on the revival of 
 commerce after the peace of 1813, and the revival of the spirit 
 of colonization by the European powers, the slave-trade had 
 still been the practice of Europe, it would have increased ten- 
 fold. All Australia, New Zealand, and every part of the New 
 World, would have been peopled by Africans, purchased or stolen 
 by English, Dutch, and French traders. 
 
 August 29th. — At half past eight I mounted the Oxford 
 stage, at the comer of Chancery Lane, on a tour, intended to 
 embrace the lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland. 
 
 Next day I met with two gentlemen, with whose appearance 
 and manner I was at once struck and pleased, and with whom 
 I became almost immediately acquainted. The name of one 
 is Torlonia, a young Italian (about twenty), and of the other 
 Mr. Walter, his tutor, about twenty-eight. 
 
 September 1st. — Strolling into the old church * at Manches- 
 ter, I heard a strange noise, which I should elsewhere have 
 mistaken for the bleating of lambs. Going to the spot, a 
 distant aisle, I found two rows of women standing in files, each 
 with a babe in her arms. The minister went down the line, 
 sprinkling each infant as he went. I suppose the efficiency of 
 the sprinkling — I mean the fact that the water did touch — 
 was evidenced by a distinct squeal from each. Words were 
 muttered by the priest on his course, but one prayer served 
 for all. This I thought to be a christening by wholesale ; and 
 I could not repress the irreverent thought that, being in the 
 metropolis of manufactures, the aid of steam or machinery 
 might be called in. I was told that on Sunday evenings the 
 ceremony is repeated. Necessity is the only apology for so 
 irreverent a performance of a religious rite. How the essence of 
 religion is sacrificed to these formalities of the Establishment ! 
 
 September 2d. — (At Preston.) My companions were glad 
 to look into the Catholic chapel, which is spacious and neat. 
 Mr. Walter purchased here a pamphlet, which afforded me 
 some amusement. It is a narrative extracted from Luther's 
 
 * Then, I believe, the only parochial church of the town, and now raised to 
 the rank of a cathedral. — ti[. C. R. 
 
 VOL. I. 15 V 
 
338 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 writings, of the dialogue related by Luther himself to have 
 been carried on between him and the Devil, who, Luther de- 
 clares, was the first w^ho pointed out to him the absm-dity and 
 evil of private mass. Of course, it is strongly pressed upon 
 the pious reader that even Luther himself confesses that the 
 Father of Lies was the author of the Reformation j and a pret 
 ty good story is made out for the Catholic. 
 
 September 5th. — (Ambleside.) This was one of the most 
 delightful days of my journey ; but it is not easy to describe 
 the gratification arising partly from the society of most excel- 
 lent persons, and partly from beautiful scenery. Mr. Walter 
 expressed so strong a desire to see Wordsw^orth, that I resolved 
 to take him with me on a call. After breakfast we walked to 
 Rydal, every turn presenting new beauty. The constantly 
 changing position of the screen of hill produced a great vari- 
 ety of fine objects, of which the high and narrow pass into Ry 
 dal Water is the grandest. In this valley, to the right, stands 
 a spacious house, the seat of the Flemings, and near it, in a 
 finer situation, the house of Wordsworth. We met him in the 
 road before the house. His salutation was most cordial. Mr. 
 Walter's plans were very soon overthrown by the conversation 
 of the poet in such a spot. He at once agreed to protract his 
 stay among the lakes, and to spend the day at Grasmere. 
 Torlonia was placed on a pony, which was a wild moimtaineer, 
 and, though it could not unhorse him, ran away with him 
 twice. From a hillock Wordsworth pointed out several houses 
 in Grasmere in which he had lived.* 
 
 During the day I took an opportunity of calling on De Quin- 
 cey, my Temple Hall acquaintance. He has been very much 
 an invalid, and his appearance bespoke ill health. 
 
 Our evening was spent at Wordsworth's. Mr. Tillbrook of 
 Cambridge, formerly Thomas Clarkson's tutor, t was there. The 
 conversation was general, but highly interesting. The evening 
 was very fine, and we for the first time perceived all the beau- 
 ties (glories they might be called) of Rydal Mount. It is so 
 situated as to afford from the window^s of both sitting-rooms a 
 direct view of the valley, with the head of Windermere at its 
 extremity, and from a terrace in the garden a view on to Ry- 
 dal Water, and the winding of the valley in that direction. 
 These views are of a very different character, and may be re- 
 garded as supplementing each other. 
 
 * The cottage at Townend, Allan Bank, and the Parsonage. 
 \ Son of the abolitionist. 
 
 1 
 
1816.] WORDSWORTH. — SOUTHEY. 339 
 
 The house, too, is convenient and large enough for a family 
 man. And it was a serious gratification to behold so great and 
 so good a man as Wordsworth in the bosom of his family en- 
 joying those comforts which are apparent to the eye. He has 
 two sons and a daughter surviving. They appear to be amia- 
 ble children. And, adding to these external blessings the mind 
 of the man, he may justly be considered as one of the most 
 enviable of mankind. The injustice of the public towards him, 
 in regard to the appreciation of his works, he is sensible of. 
 But he is aware that, though the great body of readers — the 
 admirers of Lord Byron, for instance — cannot and ought not 
 to be his admirers too, still he is not without his fame. And 
 he has that expectation of posthumous renown which has 
 cheered many a poet, who has had less legitimate claims to 
 it, and whose expectations have not been disappointed. 
 
 Mr. Walter sang some Scotch airs to' Mr. Tillbrook's flute, 
 and we did not leave Bydal Mount till late. My companions 
 declare it will be to them a memorable evening. 
 
 Just as we were going to bed De Quincey called on me. He 
 was in much better spirits than when I saw him in the morn- 
 ing and expressed a wish to walk with me about the neighbor- 
 hood. 
 
 September 8th. — I returned to Kendal, partly to accommo- 
 date my friends, w^ho were pledged to omit no opportunity of 
 hearing Sunday mass. I went to the Catholic chapel ; and as 
 I stood up while others were kneeling, I found my coat tugged 
 at violently. This was occasioned by a combination of Boman 
 Catholic and Italian zeal. The tug of recognition came from 
 an Italian boy, a Piedmontese image-seller, whom we had met 
 with before on the road, — a spirited lad, who refused a shil- 
 ling Torlonia offered him, and said he had saved enough by 
 selling images and other Italian articles to buy himself land in 
 Savoy. I understood him to say £ 80 ; but that is probably a 
 mistake. He had, however, been several years in England. 
 
 Septemher 9th. — (Keswick.) We were gratified by receiv- 
 ing an invitation to take tea with the Poet Laureate. This 
 was given to our whole party, and our dinner was, in conse- 
 quence, shortened. I had a small room on a second floor, 
 from the windows of which I had a glimpse only of the fine 
 mountain scenery, and could see a single house only amid gar- 
 dens out of the town. The mountain was Skiddaw. The 
 house was Southey's. 
 
 The laureate lives in a large house in a nurser3maan's 
 
340 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19, 
 
 grounds. It enjoys a panoramic view of the mountains ; and 
 as South ey spends so much of his time within doors, this lovely 
 and extensive view supplies the place of travelling beyond hia 
 own premises. 
 
 We spent a highly agreeable evening with Southey. Mr. 
 Nash, Mr. Westall, Jun., several ladies, Miss Barker, Mrs, 
 Southey, Mrs. Coleridge, and Mrs. Lovell, were of the party. 
 The conversation was on various subjects. Southey's library 
 is richly stored with Spanish and Portuguese books. These he 
 showed to my Catholic friends, withholding some which he 
 thought might give them uneasiness. Looking at his books, 
 he said, with great feeling, that he sometimes regarded them 
 with pain, thinking what might hereafter become of them, — a 
 pathetic allusion to the loss of his son. 
 
 On Spanish politics he spoke freely. At the same time 
 that he reproached Ferdinand with a want of generosity, he 
 stated his conviction that he acted defensively. The liberals 
 would have dethroned him at once, had they been permitted 
 to carrv into effect the new constitution. 
 
 I found his opinions concerning the state and prospects of 
 this country most gloomy. He considers the government 
 seriously endangered by the writings of Cobbett, and still 
 more by the Examiner, Jacobinism he deems more an object 
 of terror than at the commencement of the French Revolu- 
 tion, from the difficulties arising out of the financial embar- 
 rassments. He says that he thinks there will be a convulsion 
 in three years ! 
 
 I was more scandalized by his opinions concerning the presa 
 than by any other doctrine. He would have transportation the 
 punishment for a seditious libel ! ! ! I ought to add, however, 
 that I am convinced Southey is an honest alarmist. I did not 
 dispute any point with him. 
 
 Hartley Coleridge is one of the strangest boys I ever saw.* 
 He has the features of a foreign Jew, with starch and affected 
 manners. He is a boy pedant, exceedingly formal, and, I 
 should suppose, clever. 
 
 Coleridge's daughter has a face of great sweetness, t 
 
 Derwent Coleridge I saw at Wordsworth's. He is a hearty 
 boy, with a good-natured expression. Of literature not much 
 was said. Literature is now Southey's trade ; he is a manu- 
 
 * Hartley Coleridge is the author of " Northern Worthies," and numeroua 
 beautiful poems. His life was written by his brother Derwent. 
 
 t Afterwards Mrs. Henry Nelson Coleridge, the editor of many of hei 
 father's works. 
 
1816.] WET WALK WITH WORDSWORTH. 341 
 
 tkcturer, and his workshop is his study, — a very beautiful one 
 certainly, but its beauty and the delightful environs, as well 
 as his own celebrity, subject him to inten'uptions. His time is 
 his wealth, and I shall therefore scrupulously abstain from steal 
 ing any portion of it. 
 
 Sqytemher 11th. — I left Torlonia and his tutor with feelings 
 almost of friendship, certainly of respect and regard, and I 
 look forward wdth pleasure to the continuance of our acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 Rem,* — The tutor was gentlemanly in his manners, and as 
 liberal as a sincere Roman Catholic could be. The young man 
 was reserved and well-bred, but already an artificial charac- 
 ter, so that I was prepared for what I afterwards experienced 
 from him.f 
 
 September 10th, — After I had taken a cold dinner, Mr. 
 Wordsworth came to me, and between three and four we set 
 out for Cockermouth ; he on horseback, I on foot. We started 
 in a heavy shower, which thoroughly wetted me. The rain 
 continued with but little intermission during a great part of 
 the afternoon, and therefore the fine scenery in the immediate 
 neighborhood of Keswick was entirely lost. The road, too, 
 was so very bad, that all my attention was requisite to keep 
 my shoes on my feet. I have no recollection of any village or 
 of any scenery, except some pleasing views of the lake of Bas- 
 senthwaite, and of Skiddaw, from which we seemed to recede 
 so little, that even when we were near Cockermouth the moun- 
 tain looked near to us. In the close and interesting conversa- 
 tion we kept up, Mr. Wordsworth was not (|uite attentive to 
 the road, and we lost our w^ay. A boy, however, who guided 
 us through some terribly dirty lanes, put us right. By this 
 time it was become dark, and it was late before we reached the 
 Globe at Cockeimouth. 
 
 If this were the place, and if my memory were good, I 
 could enrich my journal by retailing Wordsworth's conversa- 
 tion. He is an eloquent speaker, and he talked upon his own 
 art, and his own works, very feelingly and very profoundly ; 
 but I cannot venture to state more than a few intelligible re- 
 sults, for I own that much of what he said was above my com 
 prehension. 
 
 He stated, what I had before taken for granted, that most 
 ^f his lyrical ballads were founded on some incident he had 
 
 ♦ Written in 1851. 
 
 I See a future chapter in reference to H. C. R.'s residence in Rome. 
 
342 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. Chap. 1&. 
 
 witnessed or heard of. He mentioned the origin of several 
 poems. 
 
 " Lucy Gray," * that tender and pathetic narrative of a 
 child mysteriously lost on a common, was occasioned by the 
 death of a child who fell into the lock of a canal. His object 
 w^as to exhibit poetically entire solitude, and he represents the 
 child as observing the day-moon, which no town or village girl 
 would even notice. 
 
 The " Leech-Gatherer" t he did actually meet near Grasmere, 
 except that he gave to his poetic character powers of mind 
 w^hich his original did not possess. 
 
 The fable of " The Oak and the Broom " X proceeded from 
 his beholding a rose in just such a situation as he described the 
 broom to be in. Perhaps, however, all poets have had their 
 works suggested in like manner. What I wish I could venture 
 to state after Wordsworth is his conception of the manner in 
 which the mere fact is converted into poetry by the power of 
 imagination. 
 
 He represented, however, much as, unknown to him the 
 German philosophers have done, that by the imagination the 
 mere fact is exhibited as connected with that infinity without 
 which there is no poetry. 
 
 He spoke of his tale of the dog, called " Fidelity." § He 
 says he purposely made the narrative as prosaic as possible, in 
 order that no discredit might be thrown on the truth of the 
 incident. In the description at the beginning, and in the 
 moral at the end, he has alone indulged in a poetic vein ; and 
 these parts, he thinks, he has peculiarly succeeded in. 
 
 He quoted some of the latter poem, and also from "The 
 Kitten and the Falling Leaves," || to show he had connected 
 even the kitten with the great, awful, and mysterious powers 
 of nature. But neither now, nor in reading the Preface to 
 Wordsworth's new edition of his poems, have I been able to 
 comprehend his. ideas concerning poetic imagination. I have 
 not been able to raise my mind to the subject, further than 
 this, that imagination is the. faculty by which the poet con- 
 ceives and produces — that is, images — individual forms, in 
 which are embodied universal ideas or abstractions. This I do 
 comprehend, and I find the most beautiful and striking illustra- 
 tions of this faculty in the works of Wordsworth himself. 
 
 * Wordsworth's *' Poetical Works." Vol. I. p. 156. 
 
 t " Resolution and Independence." Vol. II. p. 124. 
 
 I Vol. II. p. 20. § Vol. IV. p. 207. 
 
 II Vol. II. p. 61. 
 
1816] A PROPHET WITHOUT HONOR. 343 
 
 The incomparable twelve lines, '' She dwelt among the un- 
 trodden ways,"* ending, " The difference to me ! " are finely 
 imagined. They exhibit the powerful effect of the loss of a 
 very obscure object upon one tenderly attached to it. The 
 opposition between the apparent strength of the passion and 
 the insignificance of the object is delightfully conceived, and the 
 object itself well portrayed. 
 
 Sepiemher 12th. — This was a day of rest, but of enjoyment 
 also, though the amusement of the day was rather social than 
 arising from the beauties of nature. 
 
 I wrote some of my journal in bed. After my breakfast I 
 accompanied Mr. Wordsworth, Mr. Hutton, and a Mr. Smith 
 to look at some fields belonging to the late Mr. Wordsworth, f 
 and which were to be sold by auction this evening. I may here 
 mention a singular illustration of the maxim, "• A prophet is not 
 without honor save in his own country." Mr. Hutton, a very 
 gentlemanly and seemingly intelligent man, asked me, *^ Is it 
 true, — as I have heard reported, — that Mr. Wordsworth ever 
 wrote verses ] " 
 
 September ISth. — This morning I rose anxious to find the 
 change of weather of which yesterday had afforded us a reason- 
 able hope. For a time I was flattered by the expectation that 
 summer would come at last, though out of season ; but the 
 clouds soon collected, and the day, to my great regret, though 
 still not to the loss of my spirits or temper, proved one of the 
 worst of my journey. 
 
 I wrote in my journal till I was called to accompany Words- 
 worth and Mr. Hutton. They were on horseback. The first 
 part of our road, in w^hich one lofty and precipitous rock is a 
 noble object, lay to the right of the mountains in Lorton Vale, 
 which we skirted at a distance. As we advanced the weather 
 grew worse. We passed Lampleugh Cross, and when we came 
 near the vale of Ennerdale, and were at the spot where the vale 
 is specially beautiful and interesting, the mist was so thick as 
 to obscure every object. Nothing was distinguishable. We 
 crossed the bridge at Ennerdale, and there the road led us over 
 Cold Fell. Cold and fell certainly were the day and the scene. 
 It rained violently, so that it was with difficulty I could keep 
 up my umbrella. The scene must be wild at any time. The 
 only object I could discern was a sort of naked glen on our 
 
 * " Resolution and Independence." Vol. I. p. 215. 
 
 t Wordsworth's eldest brother, Richard, who was Solicitor to the CommiS" 
 sioners of his Majesty's Woods and Forests. 
 
1 
 
 344 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 right ; a secluded spot, rendered lively, however, by a few 
 farm-houses. As we descended the fell the weather cleared up, 
 and I could discern an extensive line of the Irish Sea. And as 
 we approached Calder Bridge we beheld the woods of Ponsonby, 
 in which Calder Abbey stands, together with an interesting 
 champaign scene of considerable extent. I ought not to omit 
 that it ^vas on this very Cold Fell that Mr. Wordsworth's father 
 lost his way, and spent a whole night. He was instantly taken 
 ill, and never rose again from the attack. He died in a few 
 weeks. 
 
 The dreary walk had been relieved by long and interesting 
 conversations, sometimes on subjects connected with the busi- 
 ness arising out of the late Mr. Wordsworth's will, and some- 
 times on poetry. 
 
 We had, too, at the close of the walk, a very great pleasure. 
 We turned out of the road to look at the ruins of Calder Abbey. 
 These ruins are of small extent, but they are very elegant in- 
 deed. The remains of the centre arches of the Abbey are 
 very perfect. The four grand arches, over which was the Ian- 
 thorn of the church, are entire. There are also some pillars, 
 those of the north side of the nave, and one or two low Nor- 
 man doors, of great beauty. We inserted our names in a 
 book left in a small apartment, where are preserved some re- 
 mains of sculpture and some Roman inscriptions. 
 
 At half a mile distance is the inn at Calder Bridge, where 
 we dined and took tea. Wordsworth was fatigued, and there- 
 fore, after an hour's chat, he took the Quarterly Review^ and I 
 took to my journal, which I completed at twelve o'clock. 
 
 I omitted to notice that I read yesterday Southey's article 
 on the Poor, in the last Quarterly Review, a very benevolently 
 conceived and well-written article, abounding in excellent ideas, 
 and proving that, though he may have changed his opinions 
 concerning governments and demagogues, he retains all his 
 original love of mankind, and the same zeal to promote the 
 best interests of humanity. 
 
 September IJfth. — (Ravenglass.) We left our very comfort- 
 able inn, the Fleece at Calder Bridge, after breakfast. The 
 day appeared to be decidedly bad, and I began to despair of 
 enjoying any fine weather during my stay in the country. As 
 I left the village, I doubly regretted going from a spot which 
 I could through mist and rain discern to be a delicious retreat, 
 more resembling the lovely secluded retirements I have often 
 seen in Wales, than anything I have met with on the present 
 
1816.] WORDSWORTH AT A CUMBERLAND AUCTION. 345 
 
 journey. We had but seven miles to walk. We were now 
 near the sea, with mountains on our left hand. We, however, 
 went to see the grounds of an Admiral Lutwidge, at Holm 
 Rook ; and, sending in a message to the master of the house, 
 he came out, and dryly gave the gardener permission to ac- 
 company us over the garden. He eyed us closely, and his 
 manner seemed that of a person who doubted whether we were 
 entitled to the favor we asked. The grounds are pleasingly 
 laid out. The Irt — to-day at least a rapid river — runs 
 winding in a valley which has been planted on each side. 
 From the heights of the grounds fine views may be seen on 
 fine days. We went into a hot-house, and after admiring the 
 rich clusters of grapes, were treated with a bunch of them. 
 
 Having ascertained that we could cross the estuary of the 
 Mite River, we came to Ravenglass by the road next the sea, 
 and found Mr. Hutton in attendance. 
 
 I was both wet and dirty, and was glad, as yesterday, to 
 throw myself between the blankets of a bed and read the Quar- 
 terly Review. A stranger joined us at the dinner-table, and 
 after dinner we took a stroll beyond the village. Near Raven- 
 glass, the Esk, the Irt, and the Mite flow into the sea ; but the 
 village itself lies more dismally than any place I ever saw on a 
 sea-shore ; though I could hear the murmur of the sea, I could 
 barely see it from a distance. Sand-hills are visible on each 
 side in abundance. 
 
 The place consists of a wretched street, and it has scarcely 
 a decent house, so that it has not a single attraction or com- 
 fort in bad weather. On a clear day, I imderstand, there are 
 fine views from the adjacent hills. 
 
 The auction — of some pieces of land — did not begin till we 
 had taken tea. This is the custom in this country. Punch is 
 sent about while the bidding is going on, and it is usual for a 
 man to go from one room to another, and report the bidding 
 which is made in the rooms where the auctioneer is not. While 
 I have been writing this page, I have continually heard the 
 voice of this man. 
 
 I have also been once down stairs, but the passage is crowded 
 by low people, to whom an auction must be an extraordinary 
 and remarkable occurrence in a place so secluded and remote 
 as this, and who, besides, contrive to get access to the punch- 
 bowl. I have been reading the article in the Quarterly Review 
 about Madame la Roche Jacquelein, by Southey. It is very 
 interesting, like the Edinburgh review of the same work, — a 
 15* 
 
346 REiMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 good epitome of the narrative. But though I am removed 
 sufficiently from the bustle of the auction not to be disturbed 
 by it, yet the circumstances are not favorable to my being ab- 
 sorbed by my book. 
 
 I slept in a double-bedded room with Wordsworth. I went 
 early to bed and read till he came up stairs. 
 
 September 15th, — On Hardknot Wordsworth and I parted, 
 he to return to Rydal, and I to Keswick. 
 
 Rem* — Making Keswick my head-quarters, I made excur- 
 sions to Borrowdale, which surpasses any vale I have seen in 
 the North, to Wastdale, to Crummock Water, and to Butter- 
 mere ; during a part of the time the weather was favorable. 
 At the last-named place, the landlady of the little inn, the suc- 
 cessor to Mary of But«termere, is a very sweet woman, — even 
 genteel in person and manners. The Southeys and Words- 
 worths all say that she is far superior to the celebrated Mary. 
 
 September 22d, — (Keswick.) Though I felt unwilling to 
 quit this magnificent centre of attractions, yet my calculations 
 last night convinced me that I ought to return. Half of my 
 time, and even more, is spent, and almost half my money. 
 Everything combines to render this the solstice of my excur- 
 sion. 
 
 Having breakfasted, I canied a book to Southey and took 
 leave of the ladies. He insisted on accompanying me, at least 
 to the point where the Thirlmere Road, round the western 
 side of the lake, turns off. I enjoyed the walk. He was both 
 frank and cordial. We spoke freely on politics. I have no 
 doubt of the perfect purity and integrity of his mind. I think 
 that he is an alarmist, though what he fears is a reasonable 
 cause of alarm, viz. a bellum servile, stimulated by the press. 
 Of all calamities in a civilized state, none is so horrid as a 
 conflict between the force of the poor, combining together with 
 foresight and deliberation, and that of the rich, the masters, 
 the repositaries of whatever intellectual stores the country 
 possesses. The people, Southey thinks, have just education 
 and knowledge enough to perceive that they are not placed in 
 such a condition as they ought to be in, without the faculty 
 of discovering the remedy for the disease, or even its cause. 
 In such a state, with the habit of combination formed through 
 the agency of benefit societies, as the system of the Luddites f 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t Serious riots were caused in 1812, 1814, 1816, and subsequently, by large 
 parties of men under this title. They broke frames and machinery in facto- 
 ries, besides committing other excesses. 
 
1816.] WITH WORDSWORTH UP NAB SCAR. 347 
 
 shows, judgments are perverted, and passions roused, by such 
 writers as Cobbett and Hunt, and the war is in secret prepar- 
 ing. This seems to be the idea uppermost in Southey's mind, 
 and which has carried him very honestly further than perhaps 
 he ought to be carried in support of government. But he is 
 still, and warmly, a friend to national education, and to the 
 lower classes, and as humane as ever he was. He has con- 
 vinced me of the perfect exemption of his mind from all dis- 
 honorable motives, in the change which has taken place in his 
 practical politics and philosophy. 
 
 We conversed also on literature, — on Wordsworth and his 
 own w^orksc He appreciates Wordsworth as he ought. Of his 
 own works he thinks " Don Roderick " by far the best, though 
 Wordsworth prefers, as I do, his " Kehama." Neither of us 
 spoke of his political poems. 
 
 September 2^h, — (Ambleside. ) I called on Wordsworth, 
 w^ho offered to accompany me up Nab Scar, the lofty rocky 
 fell immediately behind and hanging over his house. The 
 ascent was laborious, but the view^ from the summit was more 
 interesting than any I had before enjoyed from a mountain on 
 this journey. I beheld Rydal Water from the brow of the 
 mountain, and afterwards, under a favorable sun, though the 
 air was far from clear, I saw Windemere, with little interrup- 
 tion, from the foot to the head, Esthwaite Lake, Blelham 
 Tarn, a part of Coniston Lake, a very extensive coast with the 
 estuary near Lancaster, &c., &c. These pleasing objects com- 
 pensated for the loss of the nobler views from Helvellyn, which 
 I might have had, had I not engaged to dine with De Quincey 
 to-day. 
 
 Wordsworth conducted me over the fell, and left me, near 
 De Quincey's house, a little after one. He was in bed, but 
 rose on my arrival. I was gratified by the sight of a large 
 collection of books, which I lounged over. De Quincey, about 
 two, set out on a short excursion with me, which I did not 
 so much enjoy as he seemed to expect. We crossed the sweet 
 vale of Grasmere, and ascended the fell on the opposite corner 
 of the valley to Easdale Tarn. The charm of this spot is the 
 solemnity of the seclusion in which it lies. There is a semicir- 
 cle of lofty and gray rocks, which are wild and rugged, but 
 promote the repose suggested by the motionless water. 
 
 We returned to dinner at half past four, and in an hour 
 De Quincey accompanied me on the mountain road to Rydal 
 * Mount, and left me at the gate of Wordsworth's garden- 
 terrace. 
 
348 REIMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 I took tea with Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, and Miss Hutch- 
 inson, and had four hours of conversation as varied and de- 
 lightful as I ever enjoyed; but the detail ought not to be 
 introduced into a narrative like this. 
 
 Wordsworth accompanied me on the road, and I parted from 
 him under the impressions of thankfulness for personal atten- 
 tions, -in addition to the high reverence I felt before for his 
 character. I found De Quincey up, and chatted with him till 
 past twelve. 
 
 September 25th. — This was a day of unexpected enjoyment. 
 I lounged over books till past ten, when De Quincey came 
 dow^n to breakfast. It was not till past twelve w^e commenced 
 our walk, which had been marked out by Wordsworth. We 
 first passed Grasmere Church, and then, going along the op- 
 posite side of the lake, crossed by a mountain road into the 
 vale of Great Langdale. The characteristic repose of Gras- 
 mere was fully enjoyed by me. 
 
 My return from the Lakes comprehended a visit to my 
 friend George Stansfeld,* then settled at Bradford. With him 
 I made an excursion to Halifax, where was then living Dr. 
 Thompson, who, after being an esteemed Unitarian preacher, 
 became a physician. An early death deprived the world of a 
 very valuable member of society, and my friend Mrs. William 
 Pattisson of a cousin, of whom she and her husband had rea- 
 son to be proud. 
 
 At Leeds, I took a bed at Mr. Stansfeld's, Sen. I always 
 feel myself benefited by being with the Stansfeld family. 
 There is something most gratifying in the sight of domestic 
 happiness united with moral worth. 
 
 At Norwich, where I joined the Sessions, I heard the city 
 member, William Smith, address his constituents on a petition 
 for parliamentary reform, which he promised to present. I 
 admired the tact with which he gave the people to understand 
 that little good could be expected from their doings, and yet 
 gave no offence. 
 
 October IJ^th. — To-day my journey ends, — a journey of 
 great pleasure ; for I had good health, good spirits, and a will 
 determined to be pleased. I had also the advantage of enjoy- 
 ing occasionally the very best society. Otherwise my tour 
 would have been a sad one, having been undertaken in a sea- 
 son the worst which any man recollects, and peculiarly unfa- 
 vorable to the enjoyment of picturesque scenery. 
 
 ♦ See ante, p. 150. 
 
1816.] LETTER TO WORDSWORTH. 349 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 [No date] 
 
 My dear Sir, — I fear I must have appeared very ungrate- 
 ful to you, and yet I do not reproach myself for my silence so 
 much as I perhaps ought, for I am conscious how much you 
 and yom* family, and everything connected with you, have 
 dwelt on my mind since last September, and that I have not 
 lost, and do not fear to lose, the most lively and gratifying 
 recollection of your kindness and attentions. It is these 
 alone that prevent my regretting the selection of such an un- 
 propitious summer for my tour. Did I once see a bright sun 
 in Cumberland or Westmoreland 1 I very much doubt it. 
 
 At last, however, the sun, as if to show how much he could 
 do without any accompaniment whatever, made his appearance 
 in the middle of a Lincolnshire wash, and I actually walked 
 several days with perfect contentment, though I had no other 
 object to amuse me. I was supported by that internal hilar- 
 ity which I have more than once found an adequate cause of 
 happiness. At some moments, I own, I thought that there 
 was an insulting spirit in the joyous vivacity and freshness 
 with which some flat blotches of water, without even a shore, 
 were curled by the breeze, and made alive and gaudy by moor- 
 fowl, small birds, and insects, while floating clouds scattered 
 their shadows over the dullest of heaths. Or was all this to ad- 
 monish and comfort a humble Suffolk-man, and show him how 
 high the meanest of countries may be raised by sunshine, and 
 how low the most glorious may be depressed by the absence 
 of it, or the interference of a mere vapor ] 
 
 JVovember 2d. — At ten o'clock I called on the Lambs. Bur- 
 ney was there, and we played a rubber, and afterwards Tal- 
 fourd stepped in. We had a long chat together. 
 
 We talked of pirns, wit, &c. Lamb has no respect for any 
 wit which turns on a serious thought. He positively declared 
 that he thought his joke about my "great first cause, least un- 
 derstood," a bad one. On the other hand, he said : " If you will 
 quote any of my jokes, quote this, which is really a good one. 
 Hume and his wife and several of their children were with me. 
 Hume repeated the old saying, ' One fool makes many.' ' Ay, 
 Mr. Hume,' said I, pointing to the company, ' you have a fine 
 family.' " Neither Talfourd nor I could see the excellence of 
 this. However, he related a piece of wit by Coleridge which 
 
350 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. ly. 
 
 we all held to be capital. Lamb had written to Coleridge about 
 one of their old Christ's Hospital masters, who had been a 
 severe disciplinarian, intimating that he hoped Coleridge had 
 forgiven all injuries. Coleridge replied that he certainly had ; 
 he hoped his soul was in heaven, and that when he went there 
 he was borne by a host of cherubs, all face and wing, and 
 without anything to excite his whipping propensities 1 
 
 We talked of Hazlitt's late ferocious attack on Coleridge, 
 which Lamb thought faif enough, between the parties ; but he 
 was half angry with Martin Burney for asserting that the praise 
 was greater than the abuse. *' Nobody," said Lamb, " will care 
 about or understand the ' taking up the deep pauses of conver- 
 sation between seraphs and cardinals,' but the satire will be 
 universally felt. Such an article is like saluting a man, ' Sir, 
 you are the greatest man I ever saw,' and then pulling him by 
 the nose." 
 
 Sunday, 2JftK — I breakfasted with Basil Montagu. Ar- 
 riving before he was ready to receive me, he put into my hands 
 a sermon by South, on Man as the Image of God, perfect be- 
 fore the Fall, — a most eloquent and profound display of the 
 glories of man in an idealized condition, with all his faculties 
 clarified, as it were, and free from the infirmities of sense. It 
 is absurd to suppose this as the actual condition of Adam, for 
 how could such a being err % But as a philosophical and ideal 
 picture it is of superlative excellence. In treating of the in- 
 tellect, I observed a wonderful similarity between South and 
 Kant. I must and will read more of this very great and by 
 me hitherto unknown writer. 
 
 I read at Montagu's Coleridge's beautiful *' Fire, Famine, 
 and Slaughter," written in his Jacobinical days, and now re- 
 printed, to his annoyance, by Hunt in the Examiner, Also 
 an article on commonplace critics by Hazlitt. His definition 
 of good company excellent, — " Those who live on their own 
 estates and other people's ideas." 
 
 December 1st. — This was a pleasantly though idly spent 
 day. I breakfasted with Walter and Torlonia, and then ac- 
 companied them to the Portuguese Minister's chapel, where 
 the restoration of the Braganza family to the throne of Portu- 
 gal was celebrated by a grand performance of mass. I had the 
 advantage of knowing the words, and they assisted my dull 
 sense in properly feeling the import of the music, which I un- 
 affectedly enjoyed. Strutt was there, and declared it was most 
 excellent. " I was like the unbeliever," said he, " and ready 
 
1816.] A TALK WITH COLERIDGE. 351 
 
 to cry out, ' Almost thou persuadest me.' " I was myself par- 
 ticularly pleased with the finale of the creed, — a triumphant 
 flourish, as if the believer, having declared his faith, went away 
 rejoicing. The transition and the pathetic movements in the 
 2'e Beum are, from the contrast, very impressive. 
 
 Cargill was telling me the other day that in a letter written 
 by Lord Byron to Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, in his rattling 
 
 way he wrote : '^ Wordsworth, stupendous genius ! D d 
 
 fool ! These poets run about their ponds though they can- 
 not fish. I am told there is not one who can angle. D d 
 
 fools." 
 
 December 2d. — I dined at the Colliers', and afterwards went to 
 Drury Lane with Naylor, who had procured orders and a box 
 for us. We saw " The Iron Chest " ; a play of little merit, I 
 think. The psychological interest is all the work of Godwin. 
 Colman has added nothing that is excellent to " Caleb W^il- 
 liams." The underplot is very insipid, and is hardly connected 
 with the main incident. But the acting of Kean was very fine 
 indeed. He has risen again in my esteem. His impassioned 
 disclosure of the secret to W^ilford, and his suppressed feelings 
 during the examination of Wilford before the magistrates, were 
 most excellent ; though it is to be observed that the acting of 
 affected sensations, such as constrained passion under the mask 
 of indifference, is an easy task. If the poet has well conceived 
 the situation, the imagination of the spectator wonderfully 
 helps the actor. I was at a distance, and yet enjoyed the per- 
 formance. 
 
 December 21st. — Called on Coleridge, and enjoyed his con- 
 versation for an hour and a half. He looked ill, and, indeed, 
 Mr. Oilman says he has been very ill. Coleridge has been able 
 to work a great deal of late, and with success. The second 
 and third Lay Sermons and his Poems, and Memoirs of his 
 Life, &c., in two volumes, are to appear. These exertions have 
 been too great, Mr. Oilman says. 
 
 Coleridge talked easily and well, with less than his usual 
 declamation. He explained, at our request, his idea of fancy, 
 styling it memory without judgment, and of course not filling 
 that place in a chart of the mind which imagination holds, and 
 which in his Lay Sermon he has admirably described.* Words- 
 worth's obscure discrimination between fancy and imagination, 
 in his last preface, is greatly illustrated by what Coleridge has 
 here written. He read us some extracts from his new poems, 
 
 * H. C. R. had probably in his mind " Biographia Literaria," V. I. pp. 81, 82. 
 
352 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 <fec., and spoke of his German reading. He praises Steflfens 
 and complains of the Catholicism of Schlegel and Tieck, &c. 
 
 He mentioned Hazlitt's attack upon him with greater mod- 
 eration than I expected. 
 
 Rem.* — It was the day after this conversation with Coleridge, 
 that I broke altogether with Hazlitt, in consequence of an arti- 
 cle in the Examiner, ^ manifestly written by him, in which he 
 abused Wordsworth for his writings in favor of the King. 
 
 After I had cut Hazlitt, Mary Lamb said to me : " You are 
 rich in friends. We cannot afford to cast off our friends be- 
 cause they are not all we wish." And I have heard Lamb 
 say : " Hazlitt does bad actions without being a bad man." 
 
 Rem.X — My fees during the year had risen from £ 321 155. 
 to £355 19 5. 
 
 At the Spring Assizes we had Baron Wood, a judge who was 
 remarkable for his popular feelings. He was praised by some 
 of our Radicals for being always against the Church and King. 
 In one case he exhibited a very strong moral feeling, which 
 perhaps betrayed him to an excess. He had a very honorable 
 dislike to prosecutions or actions on the game laws, and this led 
 him to make use of a strong expedient to defeat two actions. 
 A and B had gone out sporting together. The plaintiff brought 
 two actions, and in the action against B called A to prove the 
 sporting by B, and meant to call B to prove the case against 
 A. This was apparent, indeed avowed. But the Baron in- 
 terposed, when the witness objected to answer a question that 
 tended to convict himself. A squabble arising between the 
 counsel, the Baron said to the witness : " I do not ask you 
 whether you ever went out sporting with the defendant, be- 
 cause, if I did, you would very properly refuse to answer. 
 But I ask you this : Except at a time when you might have 
 been sporting with the defendant, did you ever see him 
 sport 1 " 
 
 '' Certainly not, my lord." 
 
 " Of course you did not." 
 
 Then the Baron laughed heartily, and nonsuited the plaintiff. 
 No motion was made to set this nonsuit aside. 
 
 It was at the Summer Circuit that Bolfe made his first ap- 
 pearance. He had been at the preceding Sessions. I have a 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t The Examiner of December 24, 1815, contains some contemptuous re- 
 marks on Wordsworth's poetry, signed W. 
 X Written in 1850. 
 
1816.J ROLFE, LORD CRANWORTH. 353 
 
 pleasure in recollecting that I at once foresaw that he would 
 become a distinguished man. In my Diary I wrote : '' Our new 
 junior, Mr. Rolfe, made his appearance. His manners are 
 genteel ; his conversation easy and sensible. He is a very ac- 
 ceptable companion, but I fear a dangerous rival." And my 
 brother asking me who the new man was, I said : "I will ven- 
 ture to predict that you will live to see that young man attain 
 a higher rank than any one you ever saw upon the circuit." It 
 is true he is not higher than Leblanc, who was also a puisne 
 judge, but Leblanc was never Solicitor-General ; nor, prob- 
 ably, is Eolfe yet at the end of his career. One day, when 
 some one remarked, *' Christianity is part and parcel of the law 
 of the land," Rolfe said to me, " Were you ever employed to 
 draw an indictment against a man for not loving his neighbor 
 as himself?" 
 
 Rolfe is, by universal repute, if not the very best, at least 
 Gne of the best judges on the Bench. He is one of the few with 
 whom I have kept up an acquaintance.* 
 
 I was advised to attend the Old Bailey Sessions, which I did 
 several times this year; whether beyond this time or not I 
 cannot tell, but I know that it never produced me a fee. And 
 I should say I am glad it did not, except that my not being 
 employed shows that I wanted both a certain kind of talent 
 and a certain kind of reputation. I was once invited by the 
 Sheriffs to dine with the Lord Mayor and the Judges. It was 
 the practice to ask by turns two or three men, both at three 
 and five o'clock. I know not whether this is still done.f 
 
 In the autumn of this year died Mrs. Thelwall, for whom I 
 felt a very sincere respect. She was her husband's good angel. 
 Before she died he had become acquainted with a Miss Boyle, 
 who came to him as a pupil to be qualified for the stage. She 
 failed in that scheme, and ultimately became Thelwall's wife, 
 without any imputation on her character. She is still living 
 with her son, and is a Roman Catholic. 
 
 * Since writing the above, Baron Rolfe has verified my prediction more strik- 
 ingly by being created a peer, by the title of Lord Cranworth, and appointed a 
 Vice-Chancellor. Soon after his appointment, he called on me, and I dined 
 with him. I related to Lady Cranworth the anecdote given above, of my con- 
 versation with my brother, with which she was evidently pleased. Lady Cran- 
 worth was the daughter of Mr. CaiT, Solicitor to the Excise, whom I formerly 
 used to visit, and ought soon to find some mention of in my journals. Lord 
 Cranworth continues to enjoy universal respect. — H. C. R., 1851. 
 
 Lord and Lady Cranworth continued their friendship for H. C. R. imtil his 
 death. Lord Cranworth was twice Lord Chancellor. 
 
 t Itis. 
 
354 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20 
 
 During this year my acquaintance with Hamond continued. 
 I now became acquainted with his cousin Miller, the clergyman, 
 and I for the first time visited his friend Pollock, now Lord 
 Chief Baron. Hamond w^ent to France, having declined an 
 offer by Sergeant Eough, who would have taken him as his 
 private secretary to Demerara. He assigned as a reason that 
 he should be forced to live in the daily practice of insincerity, 
 by subscribing himself the humble servant of those towards 
 whom he felt no humility. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 1817. 
 
 FEBRUARY 5tk — I had to-day the pleasure of bein^ 
 reminded of old times, and of having old enjoyments 
 brought back to my mind. I saw for the first time Mrs. 
 Alsop, Mrs. Jordan's daughter, the plainest woman, I should 
 think, who ever ventured on the stage. She, nevertheless, de- 
 lighted me by the sweet tones of her voice, which frequently 
 startled me by their resemblance to her mother's. Mrs. Alsop 
 has the same, or nearly the same, hearty laugh as Mrs. Jordan, 
 and similar frolicsome antics. The play was a lively Spanish 
 comedy. How I should have enjoyed her acting, if I had not 
 recollected her mother, I cannot tell. 
 
 February 8th. — On stepping to my chambers I was sur- 
 prised by finding there, handsomely framed and glazed, prints 
 of Domenichino's " St. John the Evangelist," * and of the 
 " Madonna di S. Sisto," by Muller. The latter engraving de- 
 lighted me beyond expression. As I considered the original 
 painting the finest I had ever seen, twelve years ago, so I 
 deem the print the very finest I ever saw. 
 
 February 11th. — I called late on Aders. He informed me 
 that the fine engravings I found at my chambers on Saturday 
 are a present from Mr. Aldebert. The Madonna diffuses a 
 
 * The original picture of the inspired Evangeh'st about to write, and the eagle 
 bringing him the pen, from which Christian Frederich Miiller took his engrav- 
 ing, was foniierly at Stuttgart, in the Frommann Collection, and is now the prop- 
 erty of Prince Narischkin, in St. Petersburg. There is an excellent repetition 
 of this picture (formerly in the Orleans Gallery) at Castle Howard, belonging 
 to the Earl of Carlisle. 
 
1817.] BARON GRAHAM. 355 
 
 serenity and delight beyond any work of art I am acquainted 
 with. I hope it will be my companion through life.* What 
 a companion for a man in prison ! I read at night a very 
 ill- written German book about Raphael by one Braun,t but 
 which will nevertheless assist me in acquiring the knowledge 
 about Raphael's works in general which I am anxious to 
 possess. 
 
 March 11th. — (On Circuit at Aylesbury.) We dined with 
 Baron Graham, and the dinner was more agreeable than any I 
 ever had with any judge. The Baron was very courteous and 
 chatty. He seemed to enjoy talking about old times when he 
 attended the Circuit as counsel. It w^as, he said, forty years 
 this spring since he first attended the Circuit. " At that 
 time," he said, '^ there were three old Sergeants, Foster, 
 Whitaker, and Sayer. They did business very ill, so that 
 Leblanc and I soon got into business, almost on our first 
 coming." Whitaker, in particular, he spoke of as a man who 
 knew nothing of law, — merely loved his joke. Foster did 
 know law, but could not speak. He spoke of Leblanc in terms 
 of great praise. He had the most business-like mind of any 
 man he ever knew. He was exceedingly attentive and labori- 
 ous. He regularly analyzed every brief in the margin. He 
 had pursued the habit through life. He talked a good deal 
 about the late George Harding. He said he came into life 
 under auspices so favorable, and he possessed so great talent, 
 that with ordinar}^ discretion and industry he might have at- 
 tained the highest honors of the profession. He was an elo- 
 quent speaker and a fine scholar, but a child in legal knowledge. 
 He would cram himself to make a set speech, and he would 
 succeed, but in a week's time be unable to state even the prin- 
 ciples on which the case turned. He was nephew to Lord 
 Camden, then very popular, and his uncle expected everything 
 from his nephew. He had therefore great business at once ; 
 but the best clients soon left him. " And," said the Baron, 
 " we must draw a veil over his latter years." 
 
 Friday, IJfth. — (At Bedford.) Only one case was interest- 
 ing. It was a Qui tarn action by Dr. Free, rector of Sutton, 
 against Sir Montague Burgoyne, Bart., the squire of the parish, 
 to recover £ 20 a month for Sir Montague's not going to church. 
 This was founded on one of the ancient and forgotten statutes, 
 
 * These engravings hung on Mr. Robinson's walls till his death, and were 
 left a legacy to a friend greatly attached to art. 
 
 t George Christian Braun. Raphael's " Leben und Wirken." Wiesbaden, 
 8vo. 1815. 
 
356 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 unrepealed in fact, but rendered inoperative by the improved 
 spirit of the age. Jameson prosecuted, and he was not suffi- 
 ciently master of himself to give any effect or spirit to his case. 
 In a hurried manner he stated the law and the facts. He proved 
 the defendant's non-attendance at church. Blosset made for 
 Sir Montague a good and impressive speech. Unluckily he 
 had a good case on the facts, so that the most interesting ques- 
 tion as to the existence of the act itself was evaded. He proved 
 that during many of the months there was no service in the 
 church, it being shut up, and that the defendant was ill 
 during the rest of the time ; so that on the merits he had a 
 verdict. 
 
 Rem,* — Baron Graham was fidgety, and asked Sergeant 
 Blosset whether the act was not repealed by the Toleration 
 Act. ** My client," said the Sergeant, " would rather be con- 
 victed than thought to be a Dissenter." f It appeared that, 
 to make assurance doubly sure, the Bishop's chaplain was in 
 court, with the Bishop's written declaration that the defendant, 
 if he had offended, was reconciled to the church. If this 
 declaration were presented, after verdict and before judgment, 
 no judgment could be entered up. A few years ago. Sir 
 Edward Eyan being one of a commission to report on the 
 penal laws in matters of religion, I mentioned this case to him, 
 and it is noticed in the report. Parson Free w^as, after much 
 litigation, and a great expense to the Bishop of London, de- 
 prived of his living for immorality. His case illustrated the 
 fact that, while bishops have, perhaps, too much power over 
 curates, they have certainly too little over the holders of 
 livings. 
 
 April 5th, — (At Bury.) A Mr. P , a Methodist preacher, 
 
 called to consult with me on account of an interruption which 
 took place while preaching at Woolpit. After this business 
 subject had been discussed, we talked on religious matters, and 
 
 I questioned Mr. P concerning the Arminian notion about 
 
 Grace. I could not quite comprehend Pascal's letters on the 
 doctrine of Grace suffisante and Grace ejjicace. Nor did Mr. 
 P relieve me from the difficulties entertained on the sub- 
 ject. The Wesleyan Methodists, it seems, maintained that a 
 measure of Grace is given to all men ; but since all men do not 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t The Toleration Act, 1 William and Mary, Chap. XVIII. Sec. 16, con- 
 tinued the old penalties for non-attendance at Divine Service on the Lord's 
 Day, unless for the sake of attending some place of worship to which that Act 
 gives toleration. 
 
1817.] SOIJTHEY. — WAT TYLER. 357 
 
 avail themseives of this, I inquired why not. Mr. P an- 
 swered they were not disposed. On my asking what gave the 
 disposition, he repUed : " God's influence." — " That, then," 
 said I, " must be Grace." — " Certainly." — " Then it seems 
 God gives a measure of grace to all men, and to some an addi- 
 tional portion, without which the common measure is of no 
 use ! " He could not parry the blow. This common measure 
 is a subterfuge, to escape the obvious objections to the Calvin- 
 istic notion of election and reprobation, but nothing is gained 
 by it. The difficulty is shoved off, not removed. 
 
 April 10th, — (Witham.) I spent the forenoon with Mrs. 
 Pattisson, reading to her Pope's " Ethical Epistles," which 
 were new to her, and which she enjoyed exceedingly. We had 
 much to talk about besides. Sir Thomas Lawrence had given 
 great delight to Mr. and Mrs. Pattisson, by informing them 
 that the picture of the boys w^as at length gone, after a delay 
 of six years, to the exhibition.* 
 
 Mdy 2d, — I went in the forenoon into B. R.,t Westminster. 
 After my return I had a call from Eobert Southey, the Laure- 
 ate. I had a pleasant chat and a short walk with him. He 
 spoke gayly of his " Wat Tyler." He understood thirty-six thou- 
 sand copies had been printed. % He was not aware how popular 
 he was when he came to town. He did not appear to feel any 
 shame or regret at having written the piece at so early an age 
 as twenty. He wrote the drama in three mornings, anno 1794. 
 We spoke of his letter to W. Smith, § of which I thought and 
 spoke favorably. I did not blame Southey, but commended 
 him, for asserting the right of all men, who are wiser at forty 
 than at twenty years of age, to act on such superiority of 
 wisdom. "• I only wish," I added, " that you had not appeared 
 to have forgotten some political truths you had been early im- 
 pressed with. Had you said : ^ It is the people who want 
 reform as well as the government,' instead of ' not the gov- 
 ernment,' I should have been content." Southey answered : 
 "• I spoke of the present time only. I am still a friend to Re- 
 form." 
 
 * See ante^ p. 220. t King's Bench. 
 
 X The original edition was published in 1794. The edition referred to is 
 doubtless the one published by Sherwood, in 1817, " with a preface suitable to 
 recent circumstances." Against this edition Southey applied for an injunction, 
 but Lord Eldon refused to grant it, the tendency of the work being mischiev- 
 ous. — Lowndes's " Bibliographer's Manual.'' 
 
 § This letter was a reply to remarks by W. Smith, in the House of Commons, 
 on "Wat Tyler," and is intended as* a vindication of the author's right to 
 change his opinions. 
 
358 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 May 8th. — I went into the King's Bench. There I heard 
 the news which had set all Westminster Hall in motion. Gif- 
 ford has been appointed Solicitor-General.* GifFord's father 
 was a Presbyterian grocer at Exeter. He was himself articled 
 to an attorney, and was never at a university. He was formerly 
 a warm Burdettite ! On the other hand, I believe he has long 
 abandoned the conventicle, and has been quiet on political sub- 
 jects, if he has not changed his opinions. He is patronized by 
 Gibbs. Both are natives of Exeter. 
 
 My only concern is that a man hitherto universally beloved 
 should thus early in life be in danger of making bankrupt of 
 his conscience, which Lord Bacon says has been the fate of so 
 many who have accepted the offices of Attorney-General and 
 Solicitor-General. 
 
 May 17th. — Another uncomfortable forenoon. It was ren- 
 dered interesting by the arraignment of Watson and three 
 other men brought up to plead to a charge of high treason for 
 the Spa Fields Biots.f Watson has a face much resembling 
 Sergeant Copley's in profile. The other three men, Preston, 
 Hooper, and Thistlethwaite, had countenances of an ordinary 
 stamp. All of them, on being arraigned, spoke like men of 
 firmness and with the air of public orators, — a soil o^ forum- 
 izing tone and manner. I was made melancholy by the sight 
 of so many persons doomed probably to a violent death within 
 a few weeks. They did not require counsel to be assigned them 
 m court. Watson inquired whether they might speak for them- 
 selves if they had counsel. Lord Ellenborough answered : 
 " You are not deprived of the power of addressing the court by 
 having counsel assigned you," — rather an ambiguous answer. 
 On entering the court, the prisoners, who had been separated 
 for some time, shook hands with each other in an affecting man- 
 ner, their hands being below the bar, and they seemed to do it 
 as by stealth. All but Preston seemed unconcerned. 
 
 There was a comic scene also exhibited. One Hone, J of 
 Fleet Street, was brought up at his own suggestion. He. 
 
 * Afterwards Lord GifFord, and Master of the Rolls. 
 
 t In 1816 meetings were held in Spa Fields to petition the Prince in behalf 
 of the distressed manufacturing classes. The first meeting was held on the 15th 
 November: thirty thousand persons were said to be present. After the second 
 meeting, held December 2d, what was called the Spa Fields riot took place ; 
 gunsmiths' shops were broken into to procure arms. In one of the shops, a ]\Ir. 
 Piatt was seriously wounded. The riot was quelled by the military, but not 
 before considerable damage had been done. 
 
 X The bookseller, whose trial by Lord Ellenborough will be referred to here- 
 after. 
 
1817.] MRS. BARI5AULD. — THELWALL MARRIED. 359 
 
 moved to be discharged on the ground of ill-treatment on his 
 aiTest. One ground of his motion was, that on the commit- 
 ment it was said he had prayed an imparlance to next Term to 
 plead. He put in an affidavit that he had done no such thing. 
 Lord Ellenborough said that his refusal to plead was a construc- 
 tive demand of time. He was again asked whether he would 
 plead, and refused. He was remanded. Shepherd appeared 
 for the first time as Attorney-General on this occasion. 
 
 May 19th, — I devoted the forenoon to the Nashes. It being 
 the last day of Term, I felt no obligation to attend in court. I 
 went into the British Museum. For the first time I saw there 
 the Elgin Marbles. Mr. Nash, with his characteristic simpli- 
 city, exclaimed, " I would as soon go into a church pit 1" Indeed, 
 how few are there who ought not to say so, if men ought on 
 such subjects to avow their want of feeling ! It requires science 
 and a habit of attention to subdue the first impression produced 
 by the battered and mutilated condition in which most of these 
 celebrated fragments remain. Of the workmanship I can under- 
 stand nothing. The sentiment produced by the sight of such 
 posthumous discoveries is, however, very gratifying. 
 
 May 26th. — After dining at the Colliers' I walked to Newing- 
 ton, and took tea with Mrs. Barbauld. I found that Dr. Aikm 
 had been very seriously ill. Mrs. Barbauld herself retains her 
 health and faculties, and is an interesting instance of a re- 
 spected and happy old age. I played chess with her, and then 
 went to Becher late. 
 
 Tuesday^ 27th, — I spent the forenoon at home, and I made 
 one or two calls. On Thelwall ; for, though I could not cor- 
 dially congratulate him on a marriage to a girl scarcely twenty 
 (he being perhaps sixty), yet I thought I might, without im- 
 propriety, do an act of courtesy. I found him well, his bride 
 but poorly. She looked more interesting as an invalid ; and as 
 her manners were retiring she pleased me better than when I 
 saw her as Miss Boyle, — a candidate for the stage. 
 
 June 9th, — The high-treason trials of Watson and others, 
 for the Spa Fields transactions, began to-day. 
 
 11th, — To-day Castle, the government informer, was ex- 
 amined seven and a half hours by Gurney. 
 
 12th. — This day I was again in court from past eight till 
 near seven, excepting dinner-time. The principal interest to- 
 day arose from the cross-examination of Castle by Wetherell,* 
 from which it resulted that he had been guilty of uttering 
 
 * Afterwards Sir Charles Wetherell, Attorney-General. 
 
360 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2C 
 
 forged notes, and had, as King's evidence, hanged one accom^ 
 plice and transported another, though the latter pleaded guilty. 
 He had been concerned in setting at liberty some French offi- 
 cers, to which business he was recommended by a person he had 
 visited in Tothill Fields Prison, and who has since been hanged. 
 There w^ere other things against him. So absolutely infamous 
 a witness I never heard of. It appeared, too, from his own 
 statement, that he was the principal actor in this business 
 throughout. He was the plotter and contriver of most of the 
 overt acts, and the whole conspiracy was his. It also appeared 
 that he was furnished with pocket-money by Mr. Stafford, the 
 Bow Street office clerk ; and Mr. Stafford also gave him money 
 to send away his wife, w^ho might have been a witness to con- 
 firm his testimony. This latter disgraceful fact, I have no 
 doubt, weighed greatly with the jury. 
 
 June ISih. — This day, like the preceding, I passed in 
 court, from a little after eight till near six ; and I could get 
 no dinner, as Wetherell w^as speaking for the prisoner Watson. 
 WetherelFs speech was vehement and irregular, and very un- 
 equal, with occasional bursts of eloquence that produced a 
 great effect. But the reasoning was very loose ; he rambled 
 sadly, and his boldness wanted discretion and propriety. He 
 kept on his legs five hours and a half ; but my attention could 
 not follow him throughout, and the latter half-hour I was 
 away, for an interesting engagement forced me to leave the 
 court before six o'clock. 
 
 I dined at Mr. Green's, No. 22 Lincoln's Inn Fields.* Cole- 
 ridge and Ludwig Tieck were of the party. It was an afternoon 
 and evening of very high pleasure indeed. 
 
 Ludwig Tieck has not a prepossessing exterior. He has 
 a shrewd clever face, bujb I should rather have thought him 
 an able man of the world than a romantic poet. He was not 
 the greatest talker to-day ; indeed, the course of the conver- 
 sation led others to give him information, but what he did 
 say was sensible and judicious. Coleridge was not in his 
 
 * Joseph Henry Green, the eminent surgeon. He was the intimate friend of 
 Coleridge. In 1818 he became associated with Sir Astley Cooper as Lecturer 
 at St. Thomas's Hospital, and was for many years Professor and Lecturer on 
 Anatomy at the Royal Academy of Arts, both at Somerset House and in 
 Trafalgar Square. In 1840 and 1847 he delivered the Hunterian oration. His 
 
 Portrait hung over the chimney-piece in Coleridge's bedroom at Highgate, and 
 remember seeing it there when I went with my father to see the room after 
 Coleridge's death. My father made an elaborate drawing of the room, which 
 was afterwards lithographed. J. H. Green died 1863, December 13, aged 71, 
 at Hadley, near Barnet. — G. S. 
 
 tt 
 
1817.] TREASON TRIALS. 361 
 
 element. His German was not good, and his English was 
 not free. He feared he should not be understood if he 
 talked his best. His eloquence was, therefore, constrained. 
 
 Tieck's journey to England is undertaken with a view to 
 the study of our old English dramatists, contemporaries of 
 Shakespeare.* He incidentally gave opinions of our elder 
 poets more favorable than I expected. He estimates them 
 highly, as it seems. 
 
 Jiine IJ/th. — After a fortnight's delay, I shall be able to 
 say but little of these days, though they were in part highly 
 interesting. To-day I spent almost entirely in court. It was 
 the most interesting day of Watson's trial. I heard Copley's 
 and Gilford's speeches. Copley spoke with great effect, but 
 with very little eloquence. He spoke for about two and a 
 half hours, and sat down with universal approbation. He 
 said nothing that was not to the purpose. There were no idle 
 or superfluous passages in his speech. He dwelt little on the 
 law, and that was not very good ; but his analysis of the evi- 
 dence of Castle against Watson was quite masterly. 
 
 The young Solicitor-General followed him. Opinions were 
 divided about him. I believe envy at his recent appointment 
 contributed to the unfavorable judgments of some men. He 
 certainly began too verbosely, and dwelt injudiciously on un- 
 important points, but I thought him very acute and able in 
 the latter part of his speech. Yet both Gilford and Copley 
 had less eloquence than Wetherell in the better parts of his 
 speech. 
 
 June 16th, — I allowed myself some relief from the trial 
 this morning. I attended, at the auction mart, the sale of 
 chambers No. 5 King's Bench Walk, first floor, for a life and 
 assignment. They sold for 1,355 guineas, and it would have 
 cost me, to substitute my life for that of the present cestui que 
 vie, more than £ 100 more ; so that I declined bidding, though 
 the chambers are so good, and mine are so bad, that I felt 
 great reluctance at the inability to purchase. 
 
 When I went down to Westminster Hall, the jury were out 
 
 * Before this visit to England, Tieck had written " Briefen iiber Shake- 
 speare" (Letters about Shakespeare), in the " Poetisches Journal," 1800, and 
 various articles about him in the " Altenglisches Theatre," 1811 (Old-English 
 Theatre). After the visit he published the following works: " Shakespeare's 
 Vorschule " (Shakespeare's Predecessors), 1823-29; notices of Shakespeare, in 
 his " Dramatische Blatter" (Dramatic Leaves), 1828; a novel called " Dichter- 
 leben " (The Life of a Poet), in which Shakespeare is introduced ; a treatise on 
 Shakespeare's sonnets, 1826; and, in company with A. W. Schlegel, the famou? 
 German translation of Shakespeare, 1826-29. 
 VOL. I. 16 
 
362 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, m 
 
 of court deliberating on their verdict. The second time I 
 went with the Najlors. We met many people in St. Martin's 
 Lane. Their silence led me to augm- ill till a drunken fellow 
 shouted out, *' England's glory forever ! " We soon ascer- 
 tained the fact that an acquittal had taken place. There were 
 crowds in the street, but quite peaceable. At Westminster 
 Hall, I saw old Combe, Barnes, &c. Every one was pleased, 
 apparently. I afterwards met the mob round a hackney-coach 
 in which Watson was. I called on Walter and on Collier, and 
 I played chess late. 
 
 June 18th. — I went to the King's Bench. The three other 
 indicted men were brought up and acquitted, no evidence being 
 given against them. I came away early, and then went into 
 the Middle Temple Garden to see the Waterloo Bridge proces- 
 sion.* The sight was interesting. Vast crowds were visible 
 on the bridge and near it, on the Surrey shore. Flags were 
 hoisted over very pier, and guns discharged on the approach of 
 the royal barges. Several of these barges, with a number of 
 boats forming no part of the ceremony, and yet giving it in- 
 terest, were on the Thames. These royal barges were rowed 
 round a frigate's boat, on which were flags and music. The 
 great personages present, the Prince, Duke of Wellington, <fec., 
 ascended the bridge on the Surrey side, and crossed over ; but 
 this we could not see. 
 
 I spent the evening in writing a dull review of Coleridge's 
 second Lay Sermon for the Critical Review.'\ 
 
 Coleridge to H. C. R. 
 
 June, 1817. 
 My dear Robinson, — I shall never forgive you if you do 
 not try to make some arrangement to bring Mr. L. Tieck and 
 yourself up to Highgate very soon. The day, the dinner-hour, 
 you may appoint yourself; but what I most wish would be, 
 either that Mr. Tieck would come in the first stage, so as 
 either to walk or to be driven in Mr. Oilman's gig to Caen 
 Wood, and its delicious groves and alleys (the finest in England, 
 a grand cathedral aisle of giant lime-trees, Pope's favorite com- 
 position walk when with the old Earl, a brother rogue of youi's 
 in the law line), or else to come up to dinner, sleep here, and re- 
 turn (if then return he must) in the afternoon four-o'clock stage 
 the day after. I should be most happy to make him and that 
 
 * Constable chose this subject for a picture, which was engraved, 
 t The Critical Revieio^ June, 1817, p. 581. 
 
1817.] COLERIDGE ON SOUTHEY AND MOORE. 363 
 
 admirable man, Mr. Frere, acquainted, their pursuits have been 
 so similar ; and to convince Mr. Tieck that he is the man. 
 among us in whom Taste at its maximum has vitalized itself 
 into productive power, — Genius, you need only show him the 
 incomparable translation annexed to Southey's " Cid " (which, 
 by the by, would perhaps give Mr. Tieck the most favorable 
 impression of Southey's own power) ; and I w^ould finish the 
 work off by Mr. Frere's " Aristophanes." In such goodness, 
 too, as both my Mr. Frere (the Right Hon. J. H. Frere), and 
 his brother George (the lawyer in Brunswick Square), live, 
 
 move, and have their being in, there is Genius 
 
 I have read two pages of " Lalla Rookh," or whatever it is 
 called. Merciful Heaven ! I dare read no more, that I may 
 be able to answer at once to any questions, *'I have but just 
 looked at the work." Robinson ! if I could, or if I dared, 
 act and feel as Moore and his set do, what havoc could I not 
 make amongst their crockery -ware ! Why, there are not three 
 Unes together without some adulteration of common English, 
 and the ever-recurring blunder of using the possessive case, 
 ' compassion^ s tears," &c., for the preposition "of,"^a blun- 
 der of which I have found no instances earlier than Dry den's 
 slovenly verses written for the trade. The rule is, that the 
 case 's is always personal ; either it marks a person, or a per- 
 sonification, or the relique of some proverbial personification, 
 as, "• Who for their belly's sake," in " Lycidas." But for A to 
 weep the tears of B puts me in mind of the exquisite passage 
 in '' Rabelais " where Pantagruel gives the page his cup, and 
 begs him to go down into the court-yard, and curse and swear 
 for him about half an hour or so. 
 
 God bless you ! 
 
 S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 Sunday Morning, Highgate. 
 
 June 22d. — I sat at home all the forenoon, in the expecta- 
 tion of a call from Tieck. He did not come, so that between 
 one and two I walked to Dalston. The day was not so oppres- 
 sively hot as it w^as yesterday, though still the heat was very 
 unusual. After dinner I read Lord Byron's " Manfred " to 
 Mrs. Becher and Miss Lewis. I had occupied myself during 
 the forenoon in writing a critique on this painful poem, which 
 nevertheless has passages of great beauty. The ladies would 
 have been greatly delighted with it, I dare say, if I had en- 
 couraged their admiration. 
 
364 KEiMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 June 2Jf.ih, — This was a highly interesting day, of which, 
 however, I have not recollected enough to render this note of 
 any interest. I accompanied Ludwig Tieck and Mr. Green in 
 the stage to Kentish Town, whence we walked to Highgate, 
 where we found Coleridge expecting us. Mr. Oilman joined 
 our party, and the forenoon till four was spent very agreeably 
 indeed. We chatted miscellaneously. Coleridge read some 
 of his own poems, and he and Tieck philosophized. Coleridge 
 talked most. Tieck is a good listener, and is an unobtrusive 
 man. He cannot but know his own worth and excellence, but he 
 has no anxiety to make himself and his own works the subject 
 of conversation. He is by no means a zealous Rom^n Catho- 
 lic. On the contrary, he says, " With intolerant persons of 
 either party, I take the opposite side." I ventured to suggest 
 the incompatibility of the Catholic religion with any great im- 
 provement. He said it was difficult to decide on questions of 
 national character. Without the Catholic religion the people 
 in Catholic countries would be worse. He thought the Span- 
 iards owed their deliverance from the French to their religion. 
 At the same time he admitted that England owes all her great- 
 ness and excellence to the Reformation ; and the existence of , 
 the Catholic system as such requires the existence of Protest- \ 
 autism. This is a very harmless Catholicism. \ 
 
 He spoke with great love of Ooethe, yet censured the impi- 
 ous Prologue to " Faust," and wishes an English translation 
 might be made from the earlier edition written in Ooethe's 
 youth. He does not speak kindly of Voss. Of the Schlegels 
 he did not say much. He does not like Flaxman's Lord Mans- 
 field, but appears to entertain a high opinion of him still. (By \ 
 the by, sitting near Sam Rogers on Talma's night at the Opera 
 House, and mentioning Flaxman, Rogers said that Canova 
 seemed not very willing to praise Flaxman, saying his designs 
 were "pretty inventions." '' Invention," said Rogers, ** is pre- 
 cisely what Canova wants.") 
 
 Coleridge related anecdotes of himself in Germany very 
 pleasantly indeed. 
 
 June 26th, — This was another idle day. I called on Tieck, 
 and chatted with him about his tour in England, and went to the 
 Westminster Library for books to assist him in travelling. I 
 also conversed with Baron Burgsdorf, a sensible man, who is 
 anxious to obtain information about our English courts of jus- 
 tice. I dined in the Hall, and after dinner Talfourd chatted 
 with me. I took a hasty cup of tea at the Colliers', and at 
 
 i 
 
Ifcl7.] TALMA. — MADEiMOISELLE GEORGES. 365 
 
 nine I went to the Opera House Concert Room, and heard 
 Tahiia and Mdlle. Georges recite. I grudged a guinea for 
 payment, but I do not regret having gone. 
 
 Talma performed a scene out of La Harpe's " Philoctete," 
 and out of '' Iphigenia in Tauris." His first appearance disap- 
 pointed me. He has little gray eyes, too near each other, and, 
 though a regular and good face, not a very striking one. His 
 voice is good, but not peculiarly sweet. His excellence lies in 
 the imitation of intense suffering. He filled me with horror, 
 certainly, as Philoctete, but it was mingled with disgust. Bod- 
 ily pain is no fit or legitimate subject for the drama ; and too 
 often he was merely a man suffering from a sore leg. Of his 
 declamation I do not presume to judge. The character of 
 Orestes affords finer opportunities of display. The terror he 
 feels when pursued by the Furies was powerfully communi- 
 cated, and his tenderness towards Pylades on parting was also 
 exquisite. Mdlle. Georges had more to do, but she gave me 
 far less pleasure. Her acting I thought radically bad. In- 
 stead of copying nature in the expression of passion, according 
 to which the master feeling predominates over all the others, 
 she merely minces the words. If in the same line the words 
 crainte and joie occur, she apes fear and joy by outrageous 
 pantomime ; and in the suddenness of the transition forces ap- 
 plause from those who are glad to understand something, and 
 gratefully applaud what has enabled them to understand. 
 Her acting appeared to me utterly without feeling. She 
 pleased me best in " Athalie," — the scene where she recounts 
 the dream and first appearance of Joad. Her imprecations 
 against Horace for slaying her lover were, I thought, violent 
 without being sincere ; and her performance of the sleep-walk- 
 ing scene in '' Macbeth " was very poor. In the French play, 
 Macbeth keeps in confinement a son of Duncan, and Lady 
 Macbeth is contemplating his murder as well as the former 
 murders she had committed, by which the fine moral taught 
 by Shakespeare is quite lost. But the French author could 
 not conceive, I dare say, why a successful murder of former 
 days should excite any remorse or anxiety. 
 
 I chatted with Rogers the poet. He hiforms me that Ma- 
 dame de Stael is considered in great danger. 
 
 June 28th, — At six I dined with Pollock.* A genteel din- 
 ner-party. Coleridge and Mr. and Mrs. John Ray, &c. The 
 afternoon went off exceedingly well. An anecdote was told of 
 
 * Afterwards Chief Baron, 
 
o6G REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. LChap. 20. 
 
 Horne Tooke, very characteristic and probable. At school, he 
 was asked why he put a word in some case or mood, and an- 
 swered, '' I do not know," for whicii he was instantly flogged. 
 Another boy was then asked, who repeated the grammatical 
 rule, and took his place in the class. On this Tooke cried. 
 His master asked him what he meant, and Tooke said : " I 
 knew the rule as well as he did, but you did not ask for the 
 rule, but the reason. You asked xvliy it is so, and I do not 
 know that now." The master is said to have taken him aside 
 and given him a Virgil in memory of the injustice done him, 
 of which Virgil Tooke was very proud. 
 
 I went late to Tieck, and chatted some time about the 
 books, &c. he had still to buy. 
 
 June 29th. — I had more conversation with Tieck this even- 
 ing than before on general literary subjects. He is well read 
 in the English dramatic literature, having read all the English 
 plays which were accessible in Germany ; and he has a decision 
 of opinion which one wonders at in a foreigner. He has no 
 high opinion of Coleridge's critique, but he says he has learned 
 a great deal from Coleridge, who has glorious conceptions about 
 Shakespeare (herrliche Ideen). Coleridge's conversation he 
 very much admires, and thinks it superior to any of his writ- 
 ings. But he says there is much high poetry in " Christabel." 
 He thinks well of the remarks on language in Lord Ched worth's 
 book about Shakespeare,* and that Strutt's remarks are acute. 
 Of Ben Jonson he thinks highly. The pieces he distinguished 
 were "Bartholomew Fair" (perhaps his best piece), "The 
 Devil is an Ass," " The Alchymist," " The Fox," " The Silent 
 Woman," &c. He says his work on Shakespeare will be minute 
 as to the language, which, he thinks, underwent changes. Of 
 German literature he does not speak promisingly. The popular 
 writers (such as Fouque) he despises, and he says that unhap- 
 pily there have sprung up a number of imitators of himself 
 He praises Solger's work f very much, and he is the only recent 
 writer whom he mentioned. Of Goethe he spoke with less en- 
 thusiasm than I expected, but with as much as he ought, per- 
 haps. The want of religion in Goethe is a great scandal to 
 Tieck, I have no doubt. His later writings, Tieck thinks, are 
 somewhat loquacious. 
 
 * " Notes upon some of the Obscure Passages in Shakespeare's Plays." By 
 the late Right Hon. John Lord Chedworth. London, 1805. Privately printed. 
 
 t " Erwin, vier Gespraelie liber das Schone und die Kunst " (Four Conversa- 
 tions on tlie Beautiful and Art). Ihl5. A more systematic work by him en- 
 titled " Vorlesungen iiber die ^Esthetik " (Lectures on iEsthetics),*^1829, was 
 published after his death. 
 
I 
 
 1817.] AT PARIS. — ATHANASE COQUEREL. 367 
 
 Eem.'* — This summer I made my second visit to Paris. Of 
 places I shall write not.iaig, out a few personal incidents may 
 be mentioned. 
 
 I undertook to escort my sister, who had a companion in 
 Esther Nash. And my nephew was the fourth to fill the car- 
 riage which we hired at Calais. My brothers crossed the water 
 with us. We slept at Dover on the loth of August, and 
 reached Paris on the 21st, — six days on the road. Last year 
 I left Paris after a comfortable breakfast, and slept at Dover ; 
 my travelling companion, however, reached London the same 
 night, and would have gone to a ball, if he had not unexpect- 
 edly found his family at home. 
 
 At Paris were then dwelling, under the care of the cele- 
 brated Madame Campan, the two Miss Hutchisons, who accom- 
 panied us repeatedly in our sight-seeings. To the youngest 
 my nephew was then betrothed. We were at the Hotel Yalois, 
 Rue Richelieu, from whence we issued daily to see the well- 
 known sights of Paris. Our acquaintances were not numer- 
 ous. The ladies knew Miss Benger, with whom was Miss 
 Clarke, and were glad to be introduced to Helen Maria Wil- 
 liams-t Her nephews were then become young men, — at 
 least the elder, Coquerel, now the eloquent and popular 
 preacher, and a distinguished member of the House of Repre- 
 sentatives. He has managed to retain his post of preacher 
 at the Oratoire. His theology was then sufficiently pronounced, 
 and indicated what has been since made public. There was a 
 manifest disinclination to enter on matters of controversy, and 
 he had the authority of his own church to justify him. He in- 
 formed me of the commands issued by the ecclesiastical council 
 of the once too orthodox church of Geneva, and addressed to 
 the clergy, to abstain from preachin^gf on the Trinity, Eternity 
 of Hell, Corruption of Human Nature, and Original Sin, be- 
 tween which last two doctrines French theologians make a 
 distinction. 
 
 Professor Froriep of Weimar was then at Paris. He intro- 
 duced me to a remarkable man, — Count Schlaberndorf, about 
 seventy years of age, a Prussian subject, a cynic in his habits, 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t Mr. Robinson had been introduced to Miss Williams by Mrs. Clarkson in 
 1814. Miss Williams wrote several works in connection with the political state 
 of France, as a Republic and as an Empire. She also wrote a novel called 
 " Julia," " A Tour in Switzerland," " Miscellaneous Poems," and " Poems on 
 various Occasions." During her residence in Paris, which extended over many 
 years, she was, by Robespierre, confined for some time in the Temple. 
 
368 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 though stately in figure and gentlemanly in his air. He was 
 residing in a very dirty apartment in the third floor of the 
 Hotel des Siciles, Rue Richelieu. His hands and face were 
 clean, but his dress, consisting of a bedgown of shot satin of a 
 dark color, was very dirty. He had a gray beard, with bushy 
 hair, mild eyes, handsome nose, and lips hid by whiskers. He 
 came to France at the beginning of the Revolution ; was in 
 prison during the Reign of Terror, and escaped. That he 
 might not be talked about, he lived on almost nothing. On 
 my answering his French in German, he replied with pleas- 
 ure, and talked very freely. His vivacity was very agree- 
 able, and without any introduction he burst at once upon the 
 great social questions of the age. In my journal I wrote : " He 
 comes nearer my idea of Socrates than any man I ever saw, 
 except that I think Socrates would not have dressed himself 
 otherwise than his fellow-citizens did." He spoke of his first 
 arrival in France. " I used to say," he said, " I was a republi- 
 can, and then there were no republics. The Revolution came, 
 and then I said: * There are republics, and no republicans.'" 
 I asked him how he came to be arrested. He said : " On the 
 denunciation of a political fanatic, a kind-hearted and very be- 
 nevolent man. He probably reasoned thus : ' Why is this 
 stranger and nobleman here ] What has he done for which 
 the Allies would hang him ] He is therefore a suspicious char- 
 acter. If he is guilty, he ought to be secured ; if he is a repub- 
 lican and innocent, he will be reconciled to a fate which the 
 public interest requires.' That was the logic of the day. 
 When I was arrested I had but 300 fi:-ancs. It was not safe 
 to attempt getting any supply by means of writing, so I lived 
 on bread and boiled plums." Froriep inquired why he did not 
 return to Germany. He said : **I should be made a centre of 
 intrigues. I am a reformer, but an enemy to revolutions." He 
 metaphysicized obscurely. Yet he distinguished fairly enough 
 between patriotism and nationality. He denied the one, but 
 allowed the other to the English aristocracy, who would sell the 
 liberties of the people to the crown, but not the crown to a 
 foreign power. 
 
 During my stay at Paris I renewed my acquaintance with 
 Gregoire.* He had been unjustly expelled from the Legis- 
 lative Body, on the ground that he had voted for the death 
 of Louis XVI. In fact, he voted him guilty, but voted against 
 the punishment of death in any case, and that he should be 
 
 * Vide 1814, ante, p. 283. 
 
1817.] PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 369 
 
 the first spared under the new law. No wonder that Louis 
 XVIII. ordered his name to be struck out of the list of mem- 
 bers of the Institute, and that he should be otherwise disgraced. 
 Without being one of the great men of the Revolution, he was 
 among the best of the popular party. He was certainly a 
 pious man, as all the Jansenists were, — the Methodists of the 
 Catholic Church, — wdth the inevitable inconsistencies attached 
 to all who try to reconcile private judgment with obedience. 
 He affirmed, as indeed many Catholics do, that the use of 
 actual water was not indispensable to a saving baptism. 
 
 One of the most interesting circumstances of my visit to 
 Paris was that I fell in with Hundleby,* who became one of 
 my most intimate friends. With him and two other solicitors, 
 Walton (a friend of Masquerier) and Andros, I made an ex- 
 cursion to Ermenonville, where Rousseau died, — a wild forest 
 scene precisely suited to that unhappy but most splendid 
 writer. 
 
 [Mr. Robinson returned from France on the 20th of Septem- 
 ber, but visited Brighton, Arundel, and the Isle of Wight after 
 his return, and did not settle down in London till the 4th of 
 October.] 
 
 November 6th. — I went to Godwin's. Mr. Shelley was there. 
 I had never seen him before. His youth, and a resemblance to 
 Southey, particularly in his voice, raised a pleasing impression, 
 which was not altogether destroyed by his conversation, though 
 it is vehement and arrogant and intolerant. He was very 
 abusive towards Southey, whom he spoke of as having sold 
 himself to the Court. And this he maintained with the usual 
 party slang. His pension and his Laureateship, his early zeal 
 and his recent virulence, are the proofs of gross corruption. On 
 every topic but that of violent party feeling, the friends of 
 Southey are under no difficulty in defending him. SheUey 
 spoke of Wordsworth with less bitterness, but with an insinua- 
 tion of his insincerity, &c. 
 
 November 9th. — I dined with Mr. and Mrs. Flaxman, making 
 a fourth with Miss Denman. I enjoyed the afternoon. Flax- 
 man is a delightful man in the purity and simplicity of his 
 feelings and understanding, though an uncomfortable opponent 
 in disputation. I so much fear to offend him, that I have a 
 difficulty in being sincere. I read extracts from Coleridge's 
 
 * He has been dead many years. His widow, a daughter of a wealthy man, 
 named Curtis, is now the wife of Mr. Tite, the architect of the Exchange. — 
 H. C- R., 1851. Mr. Tite is M. P. for Bath. 
 
 16* 
 
370 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRAbB ROBINSON. [Chai*. 20. 
 
 poems. The verses to the Duchess of Devonshire, in particu- 
 lar, pleased him. Certainly Coleridge has shown that he could 
 be courteous and courtly without servility. 
 
 November 16th. — The death of the Princess Charlotte has 
 excited more general sorrow than I ever witnes^d raised by 
 the death of a royal personage. 
 
 Navemher 17th, — I witnessed to-day a scene which would 
 have been a reproach to Turkey, or the Emperor of Dahomey, 
 — a wager of battle in Westminster Hall. Thornton was 
 brought up for trial on an appeal after acquittal for murder.* 
 No one seemed to have any doubt of the prisoner's guilt ; but 
 he escaped, owing to the unfitness of a profound real-property 
 lawyer to manage a criminal trial. For this reason the public 
 sense was ^not offended by recourse being had to an obsolete 
 proceeding. The court was crowded to excess. Lord Ellen- 
 borough asked Reader whether he had anything to move, and 
 he having moved that Thornton should be permitted to plead, 
 he was brought to the bar. The declaration or count being 
 read to him, he said : " Not Guilty. And this I am ready to 
 defend with my body." And at the same time he throw a 
 large glove or gauntlet on to the floor of the court. Though 
 we all expected this plea,' yet we all felt astonishment — at 
 least I did — at beholding before our eyes a scene acted which 
 we had read of as one of the disgraceful institutions of our 
 half-civilized ancestors. No one smiled. The judges looked 
 embarrassed. Clarke on this began a very weak speech. He 
 was surprised, " at this time of day," at so obsolete a proceed- 
 ing ; as if the appeal itself were not as much so. He pointed 
 out the person of Ashford, the appellant, and thought the 
 court would not award battle between men of such dispropor- 
 tionate strength. But being asked whether he had any au- 
 thority for such a position, he had no better reply than that it 
 was shocking, because the defendant had murdered the sister, 
 that he should then murder the brother. For which Lord 
 EUenborough justly reproved him, by observing that what the 
 law sanctioned could not be murder. Time was, however, 
 given him to counter-plead, and Reader judiciously said in a 
 single sentence, that he had taken on himself to advise the 
 wager of battle, on account of the prejudices against Thornton, 
 by which a fair trial was rendered impossible. 
 
 * An appeal of murder was a criminal prosecution at the suit of the next 
 of kin to the person killed, independently of any prosecution by the Crown, 
 and might take place, as in this case, after an acquittal. The word ** appeal,'' 
 however, has in this usage no reference to former proceedings. 
 
iiP 
 
 1817.] ^mP -^IRS. BARBAULD. 371 
 
 Rem* — The appellant, in the following Term, set out all 
 the evidence in replication, it being the ancient law that, when 
 that leaves no doubt, the wager may be declined. Hence a 
 very long succession of pleading, during which Thornton re- 
 mained in prison. The court ought probably, according to 
 the old law, to have ordered battle, and if the appellant re- 
 fused, awarded that he should be hanged. To relieve the 
 court and country from such monstrosities, the judgment was 
 postponed, and an Act of Parliament passed to abolish both 
 the wager of battla and the appeal; which some of my 
 Radical city friends thought a wrong proceeding, by depriving 
 the people of one of their means of protection against a bad 
 government ; for the King cannot pardon in appeal of murder, 
 and the Ministry may contrive the murder of a friend to 
 liberty. 
 
 Tindal and Chitty argued the case very learnedly, and much 
 recondite and worthless black-letter and French lore w^ere lav- 
 ished for the last time. This recourse to an obsolete proceed- 
 ing terminated in Thornton's acquittal. 
 
 November 19th. — This being the day of the funeral of the 
 Princess Charlotte, all the shops were shut, and the chiu-ches 
 everywhere filled w4th auditors. 
 
 November 23rJ, — I walked to Newington, which I reached 
 in time to dine with Mrs. Barbauld. Mr. and Mrs. Charles 
 Aikin were there. The afternoon passed off without any d ill- 
 ness or drowsiness. We had matter for conversation in Mrs. 
 Plumptre, — a subject on w^hich I talk con amore, in the wager 
 of battle, and in the Princess's death. 
 
 November 25th. — This was to me an anxious day. I had 
 received from Naylor a brief to speak in mitigation of punish- 
 ment for one Williams, at Portsea, who had sold in his shop 
 two of the famous Parodies, one of the Litany, in which the 
 three estates. Kings, Lords, and Commons, are addressed with 
 some spirit and point on the sufferings of the nation, and the 
 other of the Creed of St. Athanasius, in which the Lord Chan- 
 cellor, Lord Castlereagh, and Lord Sidmouth are, with vulgar 
 buffoonery, addressed as Old Bags, Derry-Down Triangle, and 
 the Doctor, and the triple Ministerial character spoken of under 
 the well-known form of words. 
 
 These parodies had been long overlooked by the late Attor- 
 ney-General, and he had been reproached for his negligence by 
 both Ministerialists and Oppositionists. At length prosecu- 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
372 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 tions were begun, and the subject was talked of in Parliament. 
 Hone and Carlile had both been prosecuted, and by their out- 
 rageous conduct had roused a strong sense of indignation 
 against them. Unhappily this poor Portsea printer was the 
 first brought up for judgment. Applications in his behalf had 
 been made to the Attorney-General, who did not conduct the 
 case with any apparent bitterness. In his opening speech on 
 the Litany, he with considerable feeling, though in a common- 
 place way, eulogized the Litany, but he admitted to a certain 
 extent the circumstances of mitigation in defendant's afiida- 
 vit, viz. that he had destroyed all the copies he could, after he 
 had heard of the prosecution. 
 
 I then addressed the court, saying that the Attorney- 
 General's speech was calculated to depress a man more accus- 
 tomed to address the court than I w^as ; but that I thought it 
 appeared, even from the Attorney-General's own words, that 
 there were no circumstances of aggravation arising out of the 
 manner in which the crime was committed. I then dwelt, and 
 I believe impressively, on the hardship of the case for the 
 defendant, who, though the least guilty, was the first brought 
 up for punishment, and deprecated the infliction of an exem- 
 plary punishment on him. This was the best part of my 
 speech. I then repeated and enforced the ordinary topics of 
 mitigation. 
 
 The Attorney-General then brought on the Creed informa- 
 tion, and was rather more bitter than at first, and he was fol- 
 lowed by Topping. 
 
 I replied, and spoke not so w^ell as at first, and was led by 
 an interruption from Bayley, to observe on the Athanasian 
 Creed, that many believed in the doctrine who did not ap.- 
 prove of the commentary. At least my remarks on the Creed 
 were sanctioned by the judgment, which sentenced the defend- 
 ant, for the Litany, to eight months' imprisonment in Winches- 
 ter Jail, and a fine of £ 100, and for the Creed to four months' 
 imprisonment. 
 
 I stayed in court the rest of the afternoon, and at half past 
 four dined with Gurney. No one but Godfrey Sykes, the 
 pleader, was there. He is an open-hearted, frank fellow in his 
 manner, and I felt kindly tow^ards him on account of the warm 
 praise which he gave to my friend Manning, and of the enthu- 
 siasm with which he spoke of Giftbrd. 
 
 December 3d. — Hamond called and chatted on law with me. 
 I walked home with him. He lent me the last Examiner. \\\ 
 
1817.] WORDSWORTH IN TOWN. 373 
 
 the account of my law case, there is a piece of malice. They 
 have put in italics, '^ Mr. Robinson was ready to agree with his 
 Lordship to the fullest extent " ; and certainly this is the part 
 of my speech which I most regret, for 1 ought to have ob- 
 served to the court, that the libel is not charged with being 
 against the doctrines of Christianity. I lost the opportun- 
 ity of saying much to the purpose, when Bayley observed 
 that the libel was inconsistent with the doctrines of Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 December Jfth. — I breakfasted early, and soon after nine 
 walked to Dr. Wordsworth's, at Lambeth. I crossed for the 
 first time Waterloo Bridge. The view of Somerset House is 
 very fine indeed, and the bridge itself is highly beautiful ; but 
 the day was so bad that I could see neither of the other bridges, 
 and of course scarcely any objects. 
 
 I found Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth and the Doctor at break- 
 fast, and I spent a couple of hours with them very agreeably. 
 We talked about poetry. Wordsworth has brought MSS. with 
 him, and is inclined to print one or two poems, as it is the 
 fashion to publish small volumes now. He means then to add 
 them to the " Thanksgiving Ode," <fec., and form a third volume. 
 He read to me some very beautiful passages. 
 
 December 6th. — I dined with the Colliers, and in the even- 
 ing Hundleby called on me, and we went together to Covent 
 Garden. I have not been so well pleased for a long time. In 
 ** Guy Mannering" there were four interesting performances. 
 First, Braham's singing, the most delicious I ever heard, 
 though I fear his voice is not so perfect as it was ; but in this 
 piece I was particularly delighted, as he sang in a style of un- 
 studied simplicity. Second, Liston's Dominie Sampson, an ab- 
 solutely perfect exhibition. His terror when accosted by Meg 
 Merrilies was the most amusing and correctly natural repre- 
 sentation I ever witnessed. Emery's representation of Dandie 
 Dinmont also most excellent ; and, though not equal to the 
 other attractions of the piece, Mrs. Egerton gave great effect to 
 Meg Merrilies. But the piece itself is worth nothing. 
 
 December 18th. — I spent the greater part of the morning at 
 the King's Bench sittings, Guildhall. Hone's first trial took 
 place to-day. It was. for publishing a parody on the Church 
 Catechism, attacking the government. Abbott * sat for Lord 
 EUenborough. Hone defended himself by a very long and 
 rambling speech of many hours, in which he uttered a thou 
 
 * Afterwards Lord Tenterden, Lord Chief Justice of King's Bench. 
 
374 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 sand absurdities, but with a courage and promptitude which 
 completely effected his purpose. Abbott was by no means a 
 match for him, and in vain attempted to check his severe 
 reproaches against Lord Ellenborough for not letting him sit 
 down in the King's Bench, when he was too ill to stand with- 
 out great pain. Hone also inveighed against the system of 
 special juries, and rattled over a wide field of abuses before he 
 began his defence, which consisted in showing how many simi- 
 lar parodies had been written in all ages. He quoted from 
 Martin Luther, from a Dean of Canterbury, and a profusion of 
 writers, ancient and modern, dwelling principally on Mr. Reeves 
 and Mr. Canning.* 
 
 Hone had not knowledge enough to give his argument a 
 technical shape. It was otherwise a very good argument. He 
 might have urged, in a way that no judge could object to, that 
 new crimes cannot be created without Act of Parliament, and 
 that he ought not to be charged by the present Attorney- 
 General with a crime, in dojng what no other Attorney-General 
 had considered to be a crime. Least of all would a jury con- 
 vict him of a crime, who was a known adversary of the govern- 
 ment, when others, of an opposite political character, had not 
 been prosecuted. This last point he did indeed urge correctly 
 and powerfully enough. 
 
 I left him speaking to go to dinner at Collier's. The trial 
 was not over till late in the evening, when he was acquitted. 
 
 I spent the evening at Drury Lane, and saw Kean as Luke 
 in " Riches." t It was an admirable performance. His servile 
 air as the oppressed dependant was almost a caricature. But 
 the energy of his acting when he appeared as the upstart tyrant 
 of the family of his brother was very fine indeed. Though he 
 looked ill in health, and had a very bad voice throughout, still 
 his performance was a high treat. I could not sit out a poor 
 farce called " The Man in the. Moon," and came home to a late 
 tea in chambers. 
 
 * Hone's defence was that the practice of parodying religious works, even 
 parts of the Holy Scriptures and the Book of Common Prayer, had been adopted 
 Dy men whose religious character was above suspicion. Examples were ad- 
 duced from Martin Luther, Dr. John Boys, Dean of Canterbury in the reign of 
 James I., Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, Lord Somers, Mr. Canning, and Mr. 
 Reeves. Of Mr. Reeves Hone said : " His name stood in the title-page of the 
 Book of Common Prayer, in most general use, as patentee," " he was a barris- 
 ter, and had been a commissioner of bankrupts." Having shown from these 
 instances, that parodies were not necessarily disrespectful to the work parodied, 
 and that they had been hitherto allowed, Hone declared that his ought not to be 
 regarded as an excention, and that on this ground, and this alone, he asked fo) 
 a verdict of '' Not Guilty." 
 
 t Altered from Massinger's play of" The City Madam." 
 
 i 
 
1817.] HONE'S SECOND AND THIRD TRIALS. 375 
 
 December 19th, — I went again to the King's Bench, Guild- 
 hall. Lord Ellenborough sat to-day. I was curious to see how 
 he would succeed where Abbott had failed, and whether he 
 could gain a verdict on Hone's second trial after a former ac- 
 quittal. Hone was evidently less master of himself before 
 Ellenborough than before Abbott, and perhaps would have 
 sunk in the conflict, but for the aid he received from the 
 former acquittal. He pursued exactly the same course as 
 before. This charge was for publishing a parody on the 
 Litany, and it was charged both as an anti-religious and a 
 political libel; but the Attorney-General did not press the 
 political count. After a couple of hours' flourishing on irrele- 
 vant matter, Hone renewed his perusal of old parodies. On this 
 Lord Ellenborough said he should not sufler the giving them in 
 evidence. This was said in such a way that it at first appeared 
 he would not sufler them to be read. However, Hone said, if 
 he could not proceed in his own way he would sit down, and 
 Lord Ellenborough might send him to prison. He then went 
 on as before. Several times he was stopped by the Chief Jus- 
 tice, but never to any purpose. Hone returned to the oflensive 
 topic, and did not quit it till he had effected his purpose, and 
 the judge, baffled and worn out, yielded to the prisoner : — 
 
 *' An eagle, towering in the pride of place, 
 Was by a moping owl hawked at and killed.'* 
 
 I came away to dinner and returned to the Hall to hear the 
 conclusion of the trial. Shepherd was feeble in his reply. But 
 Lord Ellenborough was eloquent. In a grave and solemn style 
 becoming a judge he declared his judgment that the parody 
 was a profane libel. The jury retired, and were away so long 
 that I left the court, but I anticipated the result. 
 
 December 20th. — Having breakfasted early, I went again to 
 the court at Guildhall. The government had, with incon- 
 ceivable folly, persisted in bringing Hone to a third trial 
 after a second acquittal ; and that, too, for an offence of far 
 less magnitude, the publishing a parody on the Athanasian 
 Creed, which the court punished Williams for by a four 
 months' imprisonment, while the parody on the Litany, of 
 which Hone was yesterday acquitted, was punished by eight 
 months' imprisonment and a fine of £ 100. The consequence 
 was to be foreseen. He was again acquitted, after having 
 carried his boldness to insolence. He reproached Lord El- 
 lenborough for his yesterday's charge, and assumed almost 
 a menacing tone. He was, as before, very digressive, and 
 
376 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 the greater part of his seven hours' speech consisted of very 
 irrelevant matter. He did not fail to attack the bar, de- 
 claring there was not a man who dared to contradict Lord 
 EUenborough, for fear of losing the ear of the court, — a most 
 indecent, because a most true, assertion. I expected he would 
 fall foul of me, for my speech on behalf of Williams, but I 
 escaped. He drew a pathetic picture of his poverty, and 
 gained the good- will of the jury by showing how much he had 
 already suffered. He declared that, if convicted, his life would 
 be lost, and at the same time he scorned to ask any favor. 
 He was very ill when the trial began, but he would not have 
 it put off, (fee. 
 
 Before he got into his defence I left the court, and called on 
 Mrs. Meyer. I dined and took tea with the Colliers, and 
 afterwards went to Amyot. I found him liberally disposed on 
 the subject of the late trials. Though he considered the 
 parodies political libels, he thought the Ministry justly taken 
 in for their canting pretence of punishing irreligion and pro- 
 fanity, about which they did not care at all. 
 
 To recur to the singular scene of this morning, without a 
 parallel in the history of the country, I cannot but think the 
 victory gained over the government and Lord EUenborough a 
 subject of alarm, though at the same time a matter of triumph. 
 Lord EUenborough is justly punished for his inhumanity to 
 Hone on a former occasion, and this illiterate man has avenged 
 all our injuries. Lord EUenborough reigned over submissive 
 subjects like a despot. Now he feels, and even the bar may 
 learn, that the fault is in them, and not in their stars, if they 
 are underlings.* Lord EUenborough has sustained the se- 
 verest shock he ever endured, and I really should not wonder 
 if it shortened his life.f 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 December, 1817. 
 T am quite ashamed of myself. After the notice so atten- 
 tively sent by my sister about the turkeys, I ought not to have 
 forgotten to write yesterday ; but the infirmities o^ old age 
 
 * Mr. Robinson says elsewhere that lie never felt able to do his best before 
 Lord EUenborough. 
 
 t Lord EUenborough resigned his office as Lord Chief Justice on account of 
 ill health in the month of October, lbl8, and died on December 13th, in the 
 same year. As to the effect of Hone's trial upon Lord Ellenborough's health, 
 there has always been a difference of opinion. 
 
1817.] LORD ELLENBOROUGH. 377 
 
 are growing fast upon me, and loss of memory is the chief.* 
 Of course I do not wish my sister to trouble herself to-morrow, 
 but as soon as she can, I will thank her to send as usual to 
 the Colliers and to Charles Lamb. But the latter, you are to 
 know, is removed to lodgings, and I will thank you to let his 
 turkey be directed minutely to Mr. Lamb, at Mr. Owen's, Nos. 
 20 and 21 Great Russell Street, Drury Lane. 
 * You have, of course, been greatly interested by the late un- 
 
 r paralleled trials. I attended every day, though not during 
 
 the whole days, and listened with very mixed emotions 
 
 Lord Ellenborough is, after all, one of the greatest men of 
 our age. And though his impatience is a sad vice in a judge, 
 he yet becomes the seat of justice nobly ; and in the display 
 of powerful qualities adds to our sense of the dignity of which 
 man is capable. And that a man of an heroic nature should 
 be reduced to very silence, like an imbecile child, is indeed a 
 sad spectacle. And the Attorney-General too, — a mild, gen- 
 tlemanly, honorable natiu*e. But he suffered little in compar- 
 ison with the chief, and he conducted himself with great pro- 
 priety. Hone said, very happily : ^' It is a pity Mr. Attorney 
 was not instructed to give up this third prosecution. I am 
 sure he would have done it with great pleasure. Had the 
 Ministry given him a hint, — a mere hint, — I am sm^e he 
 would have taken it." 
 
 December 21st. — I breakfasted with Ed. Littledale, and met 
 Burrell and Bright (also at the bar) there. We talked, of 
 course, about the late trials, and Burrell was warm, even to 
 anger, at hearing me express my pleasure at the result. He 
 went so far as to declare I was a mischievous character ; but 
 this was said with so much honest feeling, that it did not make 
 me in the least angry, and I succeeded in bringing him to 
 moderation at last. He feels, as Southey does, the danger 
 arising from the popular feeling against the government ; and 
 he considers the indisposition of the London juries to convict 
 in cases of libel as a great evil. Bright, who came after the 
 heat of the battle was over, took the liberal side, and Ed. 
 Littledale inclined to Burrell. The beauty of Littledale's 
 chambers,! and his capital library, excited my envy. 
 
 December 27th. — I called on Lamb, and met Wordsworth 
 with him ; I afterwards returned to Lamb's. Dined at Monk- 
 
 * In 1864, Mr. Robinson notes on this : " What did I mean by old age forty- 
 seven years ago? " 
 t These looked into Gray's Inn Gardens. 
 
378 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 house's.* The party was small, — Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth 
 and Miss Hutchison, Coleridge and his son Hartley, and Mr. 
 Tillbrook. After dinner Charles Lamb joined the party. 
 
 I was glad to hear Coleridge take the right side on Hone's 
 trial. He eloquently expatiated on the necessity of saving 
 Hone, in order to save English law, and he derided the legal 
 definition of a libel, — whatever tends to produce certain con- 
 sequences, without any regard to the intention of the pub- 
 lisher.f 
 
 Among the light conversation at dinner, Tillbrook related 
 that Southey had received a letter from a person requesting 
 him to make an acrostic on the name of a young lady in Es- 
 sex. The writer was paying his addresses to this young lady, 
 but had a rival who beat him in writing 'verses. Southey 
 did not send the verses, and distributed the money in buying 
 blankets for some poor women of Keswick. 
 
 December SOth. — I dined with the Colliers, and spent the 
 evening at Lamb's. I found a large party collected round the 
 two poets, but Coleridge had the larger number. There was, 
 however, scarcely any conversation beyond a whisper. Cole- 
 ridge was philosophizing in his rambling way to Monkhouse, 
 who listened attentively, — to Manning, who sometimes smiled, 
 as if he thought Coleridge had no right to metaphysicize on 
 chemistry without any knowledge of the subject, — to Martin 
 Bumey, who was eager to interpose, — and Alsager, who was 
 content to be a listener ; while Wordsworth was for a great 
 part of the time engaged tete-a-tete with Talfourd. I could 
 catch scarcely anything of the conversation. I chatted with 
 the ladies. Miss Lamb had gone through the fatigue of a 
 dinner-party very well, and Charles was in good spirits. 
 
 December SlsL — The last day of the year was one of the 
 darkest days I remember in any year. A thick fog came over 
 London between eight and nine, and remained all the day. 
 Late at night it cleared up. 
 
 The increase of my fees from £ 355 19 5. to £ 415 5 5. 6 d is 
 too paltry to be worth notice. Yet my journal shows that I 
 had not relaxed in that attention which the Germans call 
 Sitzfleiss, — sitting industry , — which is compatible with slug- 
 gishness of mind. 
 
 * Mr. Monkhouse was a London merchant and a connection of Mrs. Words- 
 worth. He married a daughter of Mr. Horrocks, who lor a long time repre- 
 sented Preston in Parliament. 
 
 t Compare with this Coleridge's letter to Lord Liverpool, written in .Tuly 
 this year. Yonge's "Life of Lord Liverpool," Vol. IL p. 300. 
 
lol8.] 
 
 SOUTHEY REFUSES TO EDIT THE TIMES. 
 
 379 
 
 I 
 
 Rem.* — During this year, my intimacy with Walter not 
 declining, and his anxieties increasing, he authorized me to in- 
 quire of Southey whether he would undertake the editorship 
 on liberal terms. Southey declined the offer, without inquiring 
 what the emolument might be ; and yet the Times was then 
 supporting the principles which Southey himself advocated, f 
 
 Southey to H. C. R. 
 
 March 13, 1817. 
 
 My dear Sir, — Your letter may be answered without de- 
 liberation. No emolument, however great, would induce me to 
 give up a country life and those pursuits in literature to which 
 the studies of so many years have been directed. Indeed, I 
 should consider that portion of my time which is given up to 
 temporary politics grievously misspent, if the interests at stake 
 were less important. We are in danger of an insurrection of 
 the Yahoos : it is the fault of government that such a caste 
 should exist in the midst of civilized society; but till the 
 breed can be mended it must be curbed, and that too with a 
 strong hand. 
 
 I shall be in town during the last week in April, on my way 
 to Switzerland and the Rhine. You wrong our country by 
 taking its general character from a season which was equally 
 ungenial over the whole continent. 
 
 Believe me, my dear sir, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 Robert Southey. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 1818. 
 
 JANUARY 6th. — I dined at the Colliers', and at seven 
 Walton and Andros came to me. We spent several hours 
 very agreeably in looking over between thirty and forty new 
 engravings, chiefly sacred subjects. I find the appetite for 
 these things grows by what it feeds on. I enjoyed many of 
 them, and rejoiced at the prospect of seeing a print of Guido's 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t The fact is stated in the '» Life of Southey," Vol. IV. -p. 261. 
 
380 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 " Hours "* over my chimney-piece. Walton is a man of taste, 
 and feels the beauty of such things. 
 
 January 12th. — I read in a volume of Voltaire's Miscella- 
 nies to-day his life of Moliere, — amusing enough : and his 
 '* critique of Hamlet," a very instructive as well as entertaining 
 performance ; for it shows how a work of unequalled genius 
 and excellence may be laughably exposed. I forgive French- 
 men for their disesteem of Shakespeare. And Voltaire has 
 taken no unfair liberties with our idol. He has brought togeth- 
 er all the discoiivenances, according to the laws of the French 
 drama, as well as the national peculiarities. To a Frenchman, 
 " Hamlet " must appear absurd and ridiculous to an extreme. 
 And this by fair means, the Frenchman not perceiving how 
 much the absurdity, in fact, lies in his own narrow views and 
 feelings. 
 
 January 16th. — (At Cambridge.) After nine Mr. Chase 
 accompanied me to Randall's, where I stayed till half past 
 eleven. We debated on the principles of the Ascetics. I 
 contended that the Deity must be thought to take pleasure in 
 the improvement of civilization, in which is to be included 
 the fine arts ; but I was set down by the text about " the 
 lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life," 
 which are said not to proceed from the Father. Thus, I fear, 
 every pleasing or bright conception of the Supreme Being 
 and of the system of the universe may be met by a text ! 
 
 January 27th. — I went to the Surrey Institution, where I 
 heard Hazlitt lecture on Shakespeare and Milton. He de- 
 lighted me much by the talent he displayed ; but his bitter- 
 ness of spirit broke out in a passage in which he reproached 
 modern poets for their vanity and incapacity of admiring and 
 loving anything but themselves. He was applauded at this 
 part of his lecture, but I know not whether he was generally 
 understood. 
 
 From hence I called at Collier's, and, taking Mrs. Collier 
 with me, I went to a lecture by Coleridge in Flear-de-lis Court, 
 Fleet Street, t I was gratified unexpectedly by finding a large 
 
 * The well-known engraving by Raphael Morghen to which Rogers alludes, 
 as hanging on his wall, in his " Epistle to a Friend," — 
 
 " mark ! again the coursers of the Sun, 
 At Guido's call, their round of glory run." 
 
 t The syllabus of this course, which included fourteen lectures, is given at 
 length in Vol. II. of Coleridge's '* Lectures upon Shakespeare and other Drama- 
 tists." The subjects are very comprehensive, — Language, Literiiture, and 
 Social and Moral Questions. 
 
1818.] A " TIMES " DINNER. — REGENT'S PARK. 381 
 
 and respectable audience, generally of superior-looking persons, 
 in physiognomy rather than dress. Coleridge treated of the 
 origin of poetry and of Oriental works ; but he had little ani- 
 mation, and an exceedingly bad cold rendered his voice scarcely 
 audible. 
 
 February Jfth, — I called on Godwin, and at his house met 
 with a party of originals. One man struck me by his resem- 
 blance to Curran, — his name Booth. Godwin called him, on 
 introduction, a master of the English language, and I under- 
 stand him to be a learned etymologist. His conversation was 
 singular, and even original, so that I relished the short time I 
 
 stayed. A rawboned Scotchman, , was there also, less 
 
 remarkable, but a hard-headed man. A son of a performer, 
 
 R by name, patronized by Mr. Place,* talked very well 
 
 too. All three Jacobins, and Booth and R debaters. I 
 
 was thrown back some ten years in my feelings. The party 
 would have suited me very ^ell about that time, and I have 
 not grown altogether out of taste for it. I accepted an invita- 
 tion to meet the same party a week hence. 
 
 February 10th, — 1 dined with Walter. A small and very- 
 agreeable party. Sydenham, Conunissioner of Excise, sus- 
 pected to be " Yetus," a great partisan of the Wellesleys ; 
 Sterling, more likely to be the real '' Vetus," — a sensible man ; 
 Dr. Baird, a gentlemanly physician, and Eraser. The conver- 
 sation was beginning to be very interesting, when I was obliged 
 to leave the party to attend Coleridge's lecture on Shakespeare. 
 Coleridge was apparently ill. 
 
 February 15th, — At two, I took a ride with Preston in his 
 gig, into the Regent's Park, which I had never seen before. 
 When the trees are gTown this will be really an ornament to 
 the capital ; and not a mere ornament, but a healthful appen- 
 dage. The Highgate and Hampstead Hill is a beautiful object, 
 and within the Park, the artificial water, the circular belt or 
 coppice, the bridges, the few scattered villas, &c., are objects 
 of taste. I really think this enclosure, with the new street t 
 leading to it from Carlton House, will giNQ a sort of glory to 
 the Regent's government, which will be more felt by remote 
 posterity than the victories of Trafalgar and Waterloo, glorious 
 as these are. 
 
 * Mr. Place was a tailor at Charing Cross, — a great Westminster Radical, 
 an accomplished metaphysician, a frequent writer on political affairs, a man 
 of inflexible integrity and firmness, and a friend and proUge of Jeremy Ben- 
 tham. 
 
 t Regent vStreet. 
 
382 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 February 17th. — I stayed at home a great part of the fore- 
 noon. Wirgmann, the Kantianer, called on me. His disinter- 
 ested proselyte-making zeal for the critical philosophy, though 
 I no longer share his love for that philosophy, is a curious and 
 amusing phenomenon. He worships his idol with pure affec- 
 tion, without sacrificing his domestic duties. He attends to 
 his goldsmith's shop as well as to the works of Kant, and is a 
 careful and kind educator of his children, though he inflicts 
 the categories on them. 
 
 I took tea at home, and, Hamond calling, I accompanied him 
 to Hazlitt's lecture. He spoke of the writers in the reign of 
 Queen Anne, and was bitter, sprightly, and full of political and 
 personal allusions. In treating of Prior, he quoted his un- 
 seemly verses against Blackmore to a congregation of saints. 
 He drew an ingenious but not very intelligible parallel between 
 Swift, Rabelais, and Voltaire, and even eulogized the modern 
 infidel. So indiscreet and reckless is the man ! 
 
 February 20th. — I dined at Collier's, and went to Cole- 
 ridge. It was agreed that I should invite Mrs. Pattisson to go 
 with me to the lecture, and I also took Mira May and Rachel 
 Rutt. We found the lecture-room fuller than I had ever seen 
 it, and were forced to take back seats ; but it was a pleasure 
 to Mrs. Pattisson to sit behind Sir James Mackintosh. He 
 w^as with Sergeant Bosanquet and some fashionable lady. The 
 party were, however, in a satirical mood, as it seemed, through- 
 out the lecture. Indeed, Coleridge was not in one of his 
 happiest moods to-night. His subject was Cervantes, but he 
 was more than usually prosy, and his tone peculiarly drawl- 
 ing. His digressions on the nature of insanity were carried 
 too far, and his remarks on the book but old, and by him often 
 repeated. 
 
 February 23d, — Heard a lectiu-e by Flaxman at the Royal 
 Academy. He was not quite well, and did not deliver it with 
 so much animation and effect as I have known him on former 
 occasions throw into his lectures. 
 
 February 24th, — I dined and took tea at Collier's, and then 
 heard part of a lecture by Hazlitt at the Surrey Institution. 
 He was so contemptuous towards Wordsworth, speaking of 
 his letter about Burns, that I lost my temper. He imputed 
 to Wordsworth the desire of representing himself as a superior 
 man. 
 
 February 27th, -r- 1 took tea with Guniey, and invited Mrs- 
 Gurney to accompany me to Coleridge's lecture. It was on 
 
1818.] LEIGH HUNT. — C. MATHEWS '^ AT HOME." 383 
 
 Dante and Milton, — one of his very best. He digressed less 
 than usual, and really gave information and ideas about the 
 poets he professed to criticise. I returned to Gurney's and 
 heard Mr. Gurney read Mrs. Fry's examination before the com- 
 mittee of the House of Commons about Newgate, — a very 
 curious examination, and very promising as to the future im- 
 provements in prison discipline. 
 
 March 19th. — I had six crown briefs at Thetford. One was 
 flattering to me, though it was an unwelcome one to hold. It 
 was on behalf of Johnson, whose trial for the murder of Mr. 
 Baker, of Wells, lasted the whole of the day. I received, a day 
 or two before, a letter from Dekker, the chaplain to the Nor- 
 wich Jail, saying that some gentlemen (the Giuneys princi- 
 pally) had subscribed, to furnish the prisoner with the means 
 of defence. The evidence against him was merely circumstan- 
 tial, and he had told so consistent a tale, stating where he had 
 been, that many believed him innocent. He, Dekker, had wit- 
 nessed my '' admirable and successful defence of Massey, for 
 the murder of his wife," (such were his words), and had recom- 
 mended me for the present case. 
 
 April 18th, — (At C. Lamb's.) There was a large party, — 
 the greater part of those who are usually there, but also Leigh 
 Hunt and his wife. He has improved in manliness and health- 
 fulness since I saw him last, some years ago. There w^as a 
 glee about him which evinced high spirits, if not perfect 
 health, and I envied his vivacity. He imitated Hazlitt capi- 
 tally ; Wordsworth not so well. Talfourd was there. He 
 does not appreciate Wordsworth's fine lines on "Scorners." 
 Hunt did not sympathize with Talfourd, but opposed him 
 playfully, and that I liked him for. 
 
 April 2Sd. — I had a note from Hundleby, proposing to go 
 with me to hear Mathews's Imitations, at eight. He came to 
 me accordingly, and I accompanied him into the pit of the 
 Lyceum. 
 
 The entertainment consisted of a nan-ative (for the great- 
 er part) of a journey in a mail-coach, w^hich gave occasion 
 to songs, imitations, &c. The most pleasant representation 
 was of a Frenchman. His broken English was very happy. 
 And Mathews had caught the mind as w^ell as the words of 
 Monsieur. His imitation of French tragedians was also very 
 happy. Talma was admirably exhibited. 
 
 A digi-ession on lawyers was flat. I did not feel the ridicule, 
 and I could not recognize either judge or barrister. 
 
384 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 Mathews was not without humor in his representation of a 
 French valet, attending his invalid master in bed ; and his occa- 
 sional bursts as master, and as the invisible cook and butler, 
 were pleasant. He took a child, i. e. a doll, out of a box, and 
 held a droll dialogue. 
 
 The best dramatic exhibition was a narrative as an old 
 Scotchwoman. He put on a hood and tippet, screwed his 
 mouth into a womanly shape, and, as if by magic, became an- 
 other creature. It was really a treat. He concluded by recit- 
 ing part of Hamlet's speech to the players, as Kemble, Kean, 
 Cooke, Young, Banister, Fawcett, and Munden, with great 
 success. 
 
 April 2Jfih. — I w^ent to Westminster Hall as usual, but 
 had a very unusual pleasure. I heard one of the very best 
 forensic speeches ever delivered by Sir Samuel Romilly. He 
 had to oppose, certainly, very moderate speeches from Gifford 
 and Piggott, and a better one from Home. It was in support 
 of an application by Mrs. M. A. Taylor, that the Countess of 
 Antrim should abstain from influencing her daughter. Lady 
 Frances Vane Tempest, in favor of Lord Stewart, who had ap- 
 plied for a reference to the Master to fix the marriage settle- 
 ments, which application Eomilly resisted. His speech was 
 eloquent without vehemence or seeming passion, and of Ulys- 
 sean subtlety. He had to address the Chancellor against the 
 Regent's friend, the Ambassador at Vienna, and Lord Castle- 
 reagh's brother, and he continued to suggest, with as little 
 offence as possible, whatever could serve his purpose as to the 
 fortune, age, morals, &c. of his Lordship. He exposed with 
 much humor and sarcasm the precipitation with which the 
 man'iage was urged, after a few wrecks' acquaintance, two or 
 three interviews, and a consent obtained at the first solicita- 
 tion. 
 
 April 30th. — I called on Lamb and accompanied him to 
 Mr. Monkhouse, St. Anne Street East. Haydon and Allston,* 
 painters, w^ere there, and two other gentlemen w^hose names I 
 
 * Washington Allston, distingiiished as an historical painter of a very high 
 class, was born in South Carolina, 1779. In England, 1803, he enjoyed the 
 friendship of B. West and Fuseli. At Rome, he was known by the resident 
 German artists as '• The American Titian.''' He there formed a lasting friend- 
 ship with Coleridge and Washington Irving. He said of Coleridge, " To no 
 other man whom I have ever known do I owe so much intellectually.^^ All- 
 ston's portrait of Coleridge, painted at Bristol in 1814 for Joshua Wade, is now 
 in the National Portrait Gallery. His two best-known pictures in this country 
 are " .lacob'? Dream," at Petworth, painted in 1817, and '* Uriel in the Sun," 
 at Trenthara . He married a sister of the celebrated Dr. Channing. He died 
 at CambridgB Port, near Boston, in America, 1843. 
 
1818.] HAYDON. ALLSTON. MASQUERIER. 385 
 
 did not collect. The conversation was very lively and agree- 
 able. Allston has a mild manner, a soft voice, and a sentimen- 
 tal air with him, — not at all Yankeeish ; but his conversation 
 does not indicate the talent displayed in his paintings. There 
 is a warmth and vigor about Haydon, indicating youthful con- 
 fidence, often the concomitant of talents and genius, which he 
 is said to possess. His conversation is certainly interesting. 
 Monkhouse himself is a gentlemanly sensible man. Lamb, 
 without talking much, talked his best. I enjoyed the even- 
 ing. 
 
 May Jflh, — At six I dined with Masquerier,* and met a 
 singular party. The principal guest was the once famous Ma- 
 jor Scott Waring, t he who, when censured by the Speaker, on 
 Burke's saying that he hoped it would not occasion feelings too 
 painful, started up and said he need not fear that : he had 
 already forgotten it. 
 
 The Major now exhibits rather the remains of a military 
 courtier and gentleman of the old school than of a statesman, 
 the political adversary of Burke. But good breeding is very 
 marked in him. 
 
 Coleridge to H. C. R. 
 
 May 3, 1818. 
 
 My dear Sir, — Ecce iterum Crispinus ! Another mendicant 
 letter from S. T. C. ! But no, it is from the poor little children 
 
 * John James Masquerier, a portrait-painter by profession. Without as- 
 piring to academical rank, he attained an independence by his professional 
 life of twenty -eight years. He was descended on both the father's and the 
 mother's side from French Protestant refugees. Being sent to school in Paris, 
 he witnessed some of the most thrilling scenes of the Revolution. Being 
 again at Paris in 1800, he obtained permission to make a likeness of the First 
 Consul without his being aware of what was going on. With this and other 
 sketches he returned to England, and composed a picture of " Napoleon re- 
 viewing the Consular Guards in the Court of the Tuileries." It was the first 
 genuine likeness of the famous man; and being exhibited in Piccadilly in 
 1801, produced to the young artist a profit of a thousand pounds. Beattie, in 
 his Life of Thomas Campbell (Vol. I. p. 429), quotes a description of Mas- 
 querier by the poet as *' a pleasant little fellow with French vivacity." In 
 1812 he married a Scotch lady, the widow of Scott, the Professor of Moral 
 Philosophy at Aberdeen. This lady was by birth a Forbes, and related to the 
 Fnisers and Erskines. After Mr. Masquerier retired from his profession, he 
 went to live at Brighton, where he was the respected associate of Copley 
 Fielding. Horace Smith, and other artists and literary men. H. C. R. was his 
 frequent guest, and on several occasions travelled with him. Mr. Masquerier 
 died March 13, 1855, in his 77th year. 
 
 Abridged from an obituary notice by H. C. R. in the Gentleman's Magazine^ 
 May, 1855. 
 
 t The friend and zealous supporter of Warren Hastings in his trial. — H C. 
 R. Vide Macaulay's *' Essays," Vol. III. pp. 436, 442., &c. 
 
 VOL. I. 17 T 
 
386 RExMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. LChap. 21, 
 
 employed in the Cotton Factories, who would fain have you in 
 the list of their friends and helpers ; and entreat you to let me 
 know for and in behalf of them, whether there is not some law 
 prohibiting, or limiting, or regulating the employment either of 
 children or adults, or of both, in the White Lead Manufactory. 
 In the minutes of evidence before the Select Committee of the 
 House of Commons on the state of children in the Cotton Fac- 
 tories, in 1816, the question is put to Mr. Astley Cooper, who 
 replies, *' I believe there is such a law." Now, can you help 
 us to a more positive answer ] Can you furnish us with any 
 other instances in which the Legislature has directly, or by im- 
 mediate consequence, interfered with what is ironically called 
 " Free Labor " % (i. e. dared to prohibit soul-murder and infan- 
 ticide on the part of the rich, and self-slaughter on that of the 
 poor !) or any dictum of our grave law authorities from Fortes- 
 cue to Bacon, and from Bacon to Kenyon and Eldon : for from 
 the borough in Hell I wish to have no representative, though 
 on second thoughts I should have no objection to a good word 
 in God's cause, though it should have slipped from the Devil's 
 mouth. In short, my dear sir, the only objection likely to pro- 
 duce any hesitation in the House of Lords respecting Sir Robert 
 Peel's Bill, which has just passed the House of Commons, will 
 come from that Scottish {"" der Teufel scotch man all for 
 
 snakes ! ") plebeian earl. Lord L , the dangerous precedent 
 
 of legislative interference with free labor, of course implying 
 that this bill will provide the first precedent. Though Heaven 
 knows that I am seriously hurting myself by devoting my days 
 daily in this my best harvest-tide as a lecture-monger, and that 
 I am most disinterestedly interested in the fate of the measure, 
 yet interested I am. Good Mr. Clarkson could scarcely be more 
 so ! I should have bid farewell to all ease of conscience if I 
 had returned an excuse to the request made for my humble 
 assistance. But a little legal information from you would do 
 more than twenty S. T. C.s, if there exists any law in point in 
 that pithy little manual yclept the Statutes of Great Britain. 
 I send herewith two of the circulars that I have written as the 
 most to the point in respect of what I now solicit from you.* 
 Be so good (if you have time to write at all, and see aught that 
 can be of service) as to direct to me, care of Nathaniel Gould, 
 Esq., Spring Garden Coffee-House. I need not add, that in the 
 
 * This Bill was by \\\^ father of the late Sir Robert Peel. (See an interest- 
 ing reference in Yonge's " Life of Lord Liverpool," Vol. IL p. 367.) The Ten 
 Hours Bill, restricting the hours of labor in factories for children and persons 
 of tender years to ten hours, passed in 1844. 
 
ISIS.] MACREADY. — MISS STEPHP:NS. — LISTON. 387 
 
 present case, Bis dat qui cito dat. For procrastination is a 
 monopoly (in which you have no partnership) of your sincere, 
 and with respectful esteem, affectionate friend, 
 
 S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 May 7th, — I lounged at the Surrey Institution till it was 
 time to go to Covent Garden Theatre, where I went by ap- 
 pointment with Thomas Stansfeld. We heard " The Slave," 
 and saw " The Sorrows of Werther." " The Slave " is a senti- 
 mental musical drama, which exhibits Macready to great ad- 
 vantage. He is an heroic, supergenerous, and noble African, 
 who exercises every sort of virtue and self-denial, with no 
 regard to propriety, but considerable stage effect. Miss 
 Stephens's singing is as unlike an African as her fair com- 
 plexion. She is very sweet in this character. Braham's voice 
 was husky, and he hardly got as much applause as Sinclair. 
 Liston as a booby cockney, come to see an old maiden aunt ; 
 Emery as his Yorkshire friend, who is to help him out of diffi- 
 culties, are decently funny. 
 
 " The Sorrows of Werther " is a pleasant burlesqae, and Lis- 
 ton infinitely comic. I cannot account for the caprice w^hich 
 made this piece so unpopular, in spite of Liston's capital act- 
 ing. The great objection is that the satire is not felt. Wer- 
 ther's sentimentality is ridiculous enough, but who cares in 
 England for foreign literature] Had we a party here who 
 were bent on supporting, and another resolved to ruin, the 
 German poet, there would be an interest. Besides, I am not 
 sure that the sapient public knew what was meant for bur- 
 lesque. Is it certain that the author knew % 
 
 May 11th. — I lounged away this day entirely. I went first 
 to the Exhibition. There I saw a number of gaudy portraits, 
 — and a few pictures, which at the end of a week I recollect 
 with pleasure. A splendid landscape by Turner, " The Dort 
 Packet Boat,", has a richness of coloring unusual in water 
 scenes, and perhaps not quite true to nature ; but this picture 
 delights me, notwithstanding. On the contrary, Turner's 
 " Field of Waterloo " is a strange incomprehensible jumble. 
 Lawrence's " Duke of Wellington "is a fine painting. 
 
 I called on Miss Lamb, and so passed away the forenoon. I 
 dined with the Colliers and took tea with the Flaxmans. Mr. 
 Flaxman has more than sixty engravings by Piranesi, not better 
 than mine, and only seventeen the same, though part of the 
 same series. Fraser says the collection amounts to 120. 
 
388 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21 
 
 May 2Jfth. — This was an agreeable day. I rose early, an(J 
 walked to Norwood. The weather as fit for walking as possL 
 ble, and the book I lounged with very interesting. From half 
 past six to nine on the road. It was near ten before Hamond 
 came down. I did not suffer him to be called. I found him in 
 pleasantly situated small apartments, where he contrives to 
 pass away his time with no other society than a little child, 
 whom he teaches its letters, and a mouse, that feeds out of his 
 hands. I was the first friend who called on him there. He 
 writes for his amusement on whatever subject chances to 
 engage his attention, but with no purpose, I fear, literary or 
 mercantile. Yet he says he suffers no ennui. 
 
 May Slst, — I wrote an opinion in the forenoon, on which I 
 spoke with Manning. I walked then to Clapton, reading Lord 
 Byron, but finding the Kents from home, 1 went to Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld's, witji whom I dined. Several people were there, and 
 young Mr. Eoscoe called. Mrs. Barbauld speaks contemptu- 
 ously of Lord Byron's new poem,* as being without poetry, 
 and in hon^ible versification. It may be so. 
 
 June 9th. — I took tea with the Miss Nashes, and accompa- 
 nied them to Covent Garden, w^here we were very much 
 amused by '' She Stoops to Conquer." Liston's Tony Lump- 
 kin is a delightful performance. The joyous folly, the booby 
 imbecility, of Tony are given with exquisite humor and truth. 
 And I was charmed by the beauty of Miss Brunton, though her 
 acting is not very excellent. Charles Kemble overacted the 
 sheepishness of the bashful rake, and underacted the rakish- 
 ness, — in 1:)oth particulars wanting a just perception of the 
 character. And Fawcett but poorly performed old Hardcastle. 
 But the scenes are so comic that, in spite of moderate acting, I 
 was gratified throughout. 
 
 Jicne 18th» — During the general election, nothing has hith- 
 erto much gratified me but the prospect of Sir Samuel Romil- 
 ly's triumphant election for Westminster, and the contempt 
 into which Hunt seems to have fallen, even with the mob he 
 courts. His absence from the poll, the folly of his committee 
 in joining with Kinnaird, — and even the secession of the few 
 who have split their votes for Cartwright and Hunt, will, I ex- 
 pect, in concurrence with the decided hostility of the Court, 
 and the semi-opposition of the Whigs, fix Captain Maxwell as 
 second to Romilly. 
 
 July 3d, — I dhied at the Colliers', and then walked to the 
 
 » u 
 
 Beppo," published in May, 1818. 
 
I 
 
 1818.] VISIT TO GERMANY. 389 
 
 hustings. The crowd was great. Biirdett and Romilly are 
 again higher on the poll than Captain Maxwell. I consider the 
 election as decided. 
 
 July Jfth. — I spent the forenoon at Guildhall, and took a 
 cold dinner at the Colliers' early, being de^rous to see some- 
 thing of the election at Covent Garden. I was too late, how- 
 ever, to get near the hustings, and suffered more annoyance 
 from the crowd than sympathy with or observation of their feel- 
 ings could compensate. The crowd was very great, and ex- 
 tended through the adjacent streets. There was not much 
 tumult. The mob could not quite relish Sir Samuel Romilly 
 being placed at the head of the poll, though, their hero being 
 elected, they could not complain. All the Burdettites, there- 
 fore, acceded to the triumph of to-day, though, a few deep-blue 
 ribbons were mingled with the light blue and buif of the 
 Whigs. Sir Samuel sat in a barouche with W. Smith, &c. 
 Streamers, flags, and a sort of palanquin were prepared, to give 
 this riding the air of a chairing. He looked rather pale, and 
 as he passed through the Strand, and it appeared as if the mob 
 would take off the horses, he manifested anxiety and appre- 
 hension.* 
 
 Rem,\ — Thirteen years had elapsed since I left Jena. I 
 had kept up a correspondence, though not a close one, with 
 two of my friends, and though I had ceased to devote myself 
 to German literature, I felt a desire to renew my German ac- 
 quaintance. I wished also to become better acquainted with 
 the Rhine scenery, and with portions of the Netherlands yet 
 unknown. I shall not dwell on places, but confine my remi- 
 niscences to persons. 
 
 At Frankfort I saw my old friends, af least those of them 
 who were not from home. I found that my Jena fellow-stu- 
 dent, Frederick Schlosser, had been, frightened into Romanism 
 by ill health and low spirits. These led, first to the fear of 
 hell, and then to the Romish Church as an asylum. His broth- 
 er was converted at Rome, and then made a proselyte of him. 
 They were wrought on, too, by Werner, Frederick Schlegel, 
 and the romantic school of poets and artists. Of Goethe, 
 Schlosser said : " What a tradcal old ao-e his is ! He is left 
 alone. He opposes himself to the religious spirit that prevails 
 among the young ; therefore justice is not done him. But he 
 
 * A few weeks after this, in a fit of despair on the death of his wife, he de- 
 stroyed himself, — an event which excited universal sorrow. — H. C. R. 
 t Written in 1851. 
 
390 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap 21. 
 
 is still our greatest man." He ought, perhaps, to have said 
 also, " He is opposed to the democratic tendencies of the age." 
 
 On August 23d I parted from Nay lor, and accompanied a 
 Mr. Passavant in his carriage to Weimar, which, after travel- 
 ling all night, we reached the second evening, passing through 
 Eisenach, Erfurth, &c. 
 
 At Jena I found my friend Knebel * in a garden-house. I 
 was not expected, but was soon recognized, and met with a re- 
 ception which justified the long and fatiguing journey. My 
 old friend was the same as ever, — a little feebler, of course ; 
 but in character and habits the same affectionate, generous, 
 high-minded, animated old man I knew years ago. With the 
 same quick sensibility to everything good and beautiful, the 
 same comical irritability without anger, and the same rough, 
 passionate tone, which could not for a moment conceal the ten- 
 derness of his disposition. Mrs. Von Knebel I found the same 
 hospitable and friendly person, — attentive to her husband's 
 guests, and most anxious to make me comfortable. There was 
 a new member of the family, — a boy, Bernard, — a sweet 
 child, delicately framed, w^ho died young. The first affection- 
 ate greetings w^ere scarcely over, and we were in the very act 
 of projecting how I could be brought to see Charles, the Ma- 
 jor's eldest son, who is a lieutenant in the Prussian service, 
 when he suddenly entered the room. The parents w^ere over- 
 joyed at seeing him, and I was glad too. Thirteen years ago 
 he was a boy, now he had become a fine young man, with as 
 fierce an appearance as a uniform, whiskers, and mustache can 
 give ; but, in spite of these, a gentle creature, and full of af- 
 fection towards his parents. 
 
 My visit to the Knebels w^as interrupted by an excursion of 
 two days to Weimar, of which dignitatis causa I must give an 
 account. While at Knebel's, the Crown Prince of Weimar 
 called on him, and was courteous to me, so that it was incum- 
 bent on me to call on him and accept an invitation to dine 
 at Court, which I did twice. On the first occasion, I was rec- 
 ognized by the chamberlain, Count Einsiedel, who introduced 
 me to the Grand Duchess. Einsiedel was an elegant courtier- 
 poet, author of some comedies from Terence, acted in masks 
 after the Roman fashion. Prince Paul, the second son of the 
 King of Bavaria, was also a visitor. There might have been 
 thirty at table, including Goethe's son. On our return to the 
 drawing-room, I was introduced to the Crown Princess, and 
 
 * See ante, pp. 126 - 128. 
 
Ulii.] THE COURT AT WEIMAR. 391 
 
 had rather a long conversation with her. She was somewhat 
 deaf, and I took pains to be understood by her in German and 
 English. I mentioned the familiarities of the English lower 
 classes tow^ards her brother, the Emperor Alexander, and ex- 
 pressed a fear lest such things should deter her from a visit to 
 England. She said the Emperor was perfectly satisfied, and 
 that, as to herself, she wished to see England : " Es gehort zit 
 den frommeii Wwischen " (It belongs to the pious wishes). 
 We talked of languages. I said I hoped to see the dominion 
 of the French language destroyed, as that of their arms had 
 been. She smiled and said, " Das ware viel " (That would be 
 much). 
 
 I was called out of the circle by the Grand Duchess, and 
 chatted a considerable time with her. I referred to the well- 
 known interview between herself and Napoleon, after the bat- 
 tle of Jena, of w^hich I said England was well informed (not 
 adding, ''through myself"*). She received my compliment 
 
 * The account alluded to was communicated by H. C R. to the Times, 
 December 26, 1807, and republished in Mrs. Austin's '' Characteristics of 
 Goethe," Vol. III. p. 203. The following extracts will give the substance and 
 result of this interesting interview : — 
 
 " When the fortunes of the day began to be decided (and that took place 
 early in the morning), the Prussians retreating through the town were pursued 
 by the French, and slaughtered in the streets. Some of the inhabitants were 
 murdered, and a general plunder began. In the evening, the conqueror ap- 
 proached and entered the palace of the Duke, now become his own by the 
 right of conquest. It was then that the Duchess left her apartment, and 
 seizing the moment of his entering the hall, placed herself on the top of the 
 staircase, to greet him with the form ility of a courtly reception. Napoleon 
 started when he beheld her. ' Qui etes vous ? ' he exclaimed, with his charac- 
 teristic abruptness. ' Je suis la Duchesse de Weimar ' — ' Je vous plains,' he 
 retorted fiercely; 'j'ecraserai votre mari.' He then added, ' I shall dine in 
 my apartment,' and rushed by her. 
 
 "•' On his entrance next morning he began instantly with an interrogative 
 (his favorite figure). ' How could your husband, Madame, be so mad as to 
 make war against me? ' * Your Majesty would have despised him if he had 
 not,' was the dignified answer he" received. 'How so?' he hastily rejoined. 
 The Duchess slowly and deliberately rejoined: ' My husband has been in the 
 service of the King of Prussia upwards of thirty years, and surely it was not 
 at the moment that the King had so mighty an enemy as your Majesty to con- 
 tend against that the Duke could abandon him.' A reply so admirable, which 
 asserted so powerfully the honor of the speaker, and yet conciliated the vanity 
 of the adversary, was irresistible. Buonaparte became at once more mild, 
 and, without noticing the answer already received, continued his interroga- 
 tories. ' But how came the Duke to attach himself to the King of Prussia? ' 
 — ' Your Majesty will, on inquiry, find that the Dukes of Saxony, the younger 
 branches of the family, have always followed the example of the I^lectoral 
 House; and your Majesty knows what motives of prudence and policy have 
 led the Court of Dresden to attach itself to Prussia rather than Austria.' 
 This was followed by further inquiries and further answers, so impressive, that 
 in a few minutes Napoleon exclaimed with wannth: ' Madame, vou^ etes la 
 femme la plus respectable que j'ai jamais connue: vous avez snuve votre 
 mari.' Yet he could not confer faxor unaccompanied with insult: for reitei-at- 
 
II 
 
 oJ2 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 favorably, — said, as some one must stay in the house, she 
 was the proper person ; that, after the plundering was over, 
 Buonaparte behaved civilly enough in his fashion. 
 
 The Grand Princess inquired whether I had heard the Rus- 
 sian service performed, and on my saying " No," she said she 
 would give orders that I should be admitted the next day 
 (Sunday). I accordingly went. The Russian language I thought 
 very soft, and like Italian. But 1 was guilty of an oversight 
 in not staying long, which the Princess noticed next day after 
 dinner. She said she had ordered some music to be played on 
 purpose for me. She seemed an intelligent woman, — indeed, 
 as all her children have been, she was crammed with knowledge. 
 
 To terminate at once my mention of the court, I dined here 
 a second time on Sunday, and was introduced to the Grand 
 Duke. He talked freely and bluntly. He expressed his dis- 
 approbation of the English system of jurisprudence, which 
 allowed lawyers to travel for months* at a time. " We do not 
 permit that." I said, " When the doctor is absent, the patient 
 recovers." A bad joke was better than contradiction ; besides, 
 he was right. 
 
 The intimacy in which the Grand Duke had lived all his 
 life with Goethe, and the great poet's testimony to his charac- 
 ter, — not ordinary eulogy, — ■ satisfy me that he must have 
 been an extraordinary man. On the whole, this visit to Wei- 
 mar did not add to my prepossessions in its favor. The ab- 
 sence of Goethe was a loss nothing could supply. 
 
 I went to the theatre, — no longer what it was under the 
 management of Goethe and Schiller. Jagermann, then the 
 favorite of the Grand Duke, was at this time become fat ; her 
 face had lost all proportion, and was destitute of expression. 
 She performed, without effect, the part of Sappho, in Grill- 
 parzer's disagreeable tragedy of that name. Mademoiselle 
 Beck played the slave, and the scene in which she bewailed 
 her forlorn state, and gained the love of Phaon, was the only 
 one that affected me. T sat part of the evening with Mes- 
 dames Wolzogen and Schiller. 
 
 ing his assurances of esteem, he added : ' Je le pardonne, mais c'est a cause 
 de vous seulement; car. pour kii, c'est un mauvais sujet.' The Duchess to this 
 made no reply: but, seizinor the happy moment, interceded successfully for 
 her suffering people. Napoleon gave orders that the plundering should cease. 
 " When tlie treaty which secured the nominal independence of Weimar, and 
 declared its territory to be a part of the Rhenish League, was brought from 
 Buonaparte to the Duke by a French general, and presented to him, he re- 
 fused to take it into his own hands, saying, with more than gallantry, ' Give it 
 to my wife; the Emperor intended it for her.' " 
 
p 
 
 1818,] GRIESBACH'S WIDOW. — LAST DAY AT JENA. 393 
 
 I went to Tiefurth, the former residence of the Dowager 
 Duchess Amelia, where Sturm * has his establishment, and 
 among the characters I called on was Herr von Einsiedel, the 
 morose and cynical husband of my old acquaintance, Madame 
 von Einsiedel. 
 
 August 29th, — I accompanied Knebel to Madame Gries- 
 bach's garden, the most delightful spot in the neighborhood 
 of Jena. This has been bought for £ 1,000 by the Grand 
 Duchess. Her children were there, and I was introduced to 
 the Princesses, — mere children yet ; but it is surprising how 
 soon they have acquired a sense of their dignity. These chil- 
 dren are over-crammed ; they learn all the sciences and lan- 
 guages, and are in danger of losing all personal character and 
 power of thought in the profusion of knowledge they pos- 
 sess. This is now the fashion among the princes of Ger- 
 many. 
 
 I saw Griesbach's widow. The old lady knew me in a mo- 
 ment, and instantly began joking, — said she supposed I was 
 come to pay a visit to E 's t lecture-room. 
 
 My last few days at Jena were spent almost alone with 
 Knebel. He told me of Wieland's death, which was, he said, 
 delightful. Wieland never lost his cheerfulness or good-humor ; 
 and, but a few hours before his death, having insisted on seeing 
 his doctor's prescription, " I see," said he, " it is much the 
 same with my life and the doctor's Latin, they are both at 
 an end." He was ill but a week, and died of an indiges- 
 tion. 
 
 My last day at Jena was spent not without pleasure. It was 
 one of uninterrupted rain ; I could not, therefore, take a walk 
 with Fries, as I had intended, so I remained the whole day 
 within doors, chatting with my friend Knebel. We looked 
 over books and papers. Knebel sought for MSS. of the great 
 poets, Goethe, Wieland, and Herder for me, and talked much 
 about his early life, his opinions, &c. As AndenTcen (for re- 
 membrance) he gave me a ring with Raphael's head on it, given 
 him by the Duchess Amelia, and four portraits in porcelain 
 and iron of the four great German poets. In return, I gave 
 him Wordsworth's poems, which had occupied so much of our 
 attention. 
 
 * Professor Sturm taught at this establishment the economical sciences, 
 i. e. all that pertains to agi'iculture and the useful arts. — H. C. R. 
 
 t The Professor with whom H. C- R. had a misunderstanding. — See ante, 
 p. 134. 
 
 17* 
 
394 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chai^. 21. 
 
 On the 9th of September, I left my friend Knebel with sor- 
 row, for I could not expect to see him again, and I loved him 
 above every German. His memory is dear to me. I saun- 
 tered, not in high spirits, to Weimar, where I slept, and on 
 the 10th set out in a diligence towards Frankfort. I spent a 
 little time with Knebel's son at Erfurth, where he is stationed. 
 I had to spend three nights on the road, reaching Frankfort 
 at 4 A. M., on the 13th. A more wearisome journey I never 
 made. 
 
 I spent my time at Frankfort almost entirely with my friends 
 of the Aldebert connection, and the Brentano family and their 
 friends. 
 
 September ISth. — When I met Christian Brentano he em- 
 barrassed me by kissing me, with all outward marks of friend- 
 ship. After being an econome for some years in Bohemia, after 
 dabbling in philosophy and mathematics, and rejecting medi- 
 cine and law, he is now about to become a priest. In a few 
 words, he said that he had been, by God's providence, brought 
 to see that religion alone can give comfort to man. " I was," 
 said he, "^ first led to this by seeing w^hat faith can do in 
 making men good. I was led to know my own worthlessness. 
 Nature opened to me somewhat of her relation to God. I saw 
 wonderful phenomena — miracles ! " — " Do you mean," said 
 I, " such miracles as the Scriptures speak of ] " — *' Yes," said 
 he, " of the same kind." I had not the assumnce to ask him 
 of what kind they were, but merely said, I had often wished 
 in my youth to see a miracle, in order to put an end to all 
 further doubt and speculation. Brentano then talked mysti- 
 cally. That he is a deceiver, or playing a part, I am far from 
 suspecting. That he has a wrong head w^ith great powers of 
 intellect, I have long known. But I was not prepared for such 
 a change. In society he is, however, improved ; he is now quiet, 
 and rather solicitous to please than to shine ; but his wild Ital- 
 ian face, with all its caricature ferocity, remains. 
 
 Reyn.^ — The Brentano circle was extended by the presence 
 of Savigny and his wife. He was already a great man, though 
 not arrived at the rank he afterwards attained. It is a remark- 
 able circumstance, that when I lately introduced myself to 
 him in Berlin, — he being now an ex-Minister of Justice, fallen 
 back on his literary pursuits, and retired from official life, 
 which is not his especial province, — both he and I had for- 
 gotten our few interviews in this year (1818), and had thought 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
1818.] 
 
 STILLING. — BUST OF VVIELAND. 
 
 395 
 
 that we had not seen each other since I left Germany at the 
 beginning of the century, that is, in 1805. 
 
 My course led me to Baden-Baden. It is enough for me to 
 say that I walked through the admirable Murg-Thal with great 
 delight, and had for my book during the walk " Scenes out 
 of the World of Spirits," by Henry Stilling (or Jung). The 
 theory of the spiritual world entertained by this pious enthu- 
 siast is founded on the assiunption that every witch and ghost 
 story is to be taken as indubitably true. He has many be- 
 lievers in England as elsewhere. Having been reproached 
 as a fanatic, he desires all unbelievers to consider his tales as 
 mere visions, — these tales being narratives of sentences passed 
 in heaven on great criminals, &c., by an eye-witness and audi- 
 tor. In Goethe's Life is an interesting account of him.* Goethe 
 protected him from persecution when a student at Strasburg, 
 but became at last tired of him. Goethe corrected the first 
 volume of his Autobiography by striking out all the trash. 
 This I learned from Knebel. That volume, therefore, should 
 be read by those who might find the subsequent volumes in- 
 tolerable. Stilling was the nom de guerre of Jung. 
 
 I spent six days at Paris, where were Miss Nash, M. An- 
 drews, &c. The only object of great interest was Mademoi- 
 selle Mars. " She a little resembles Miss Mellon f when she 
 was young, — i. e. Miss Mellon when she stood still, neither 
 giggling nor fidgety." I did not foresee that I was writing of 
 a future duchess. 
 
 b 
 
 November SOth. — Thelwall called. His visit gave me paiu. 
 He has purchased The Champion, and is about to take up the 
 profession of politician, after so many years' pause. An old 
 age of poverty will be his portion. 
 
 December Sd. — I bought at Dove Court, St. Martin's Lane, 
 a marble bust of Wieland by Schadow, for ten guineas. Flax- 
 man informed me of this bust being there. He says it is an 
 excellent head, which he would have bought himself, had he 
 had a room to put it in. I am delighted with my purchase. 
 It is a very strong likeness, and in a style of great simplicity. 
 The head is covered with a cap, which is only distinguished 
 from the skull by two lines crossing the head ; the hair curls 
 round below the cap, and the head stoops a very little, with 
 
 Vide " Dichtung und Wahrheit," Books IX. and X. 
 Afterwards Mrs. Coutts, und then Duchess of St. Albans. 
 
396 REMINISCKNCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 the sight rather downwards. The forehead and temples are 
 exquisitely wrought, and the drapery is pleasingly folded. It 
 is unwrought at the sides, in each of which is a square opening. 
 Having this fine object constantly before me will generate a 
 love for sculpture.* 
 
 December Jfih. — I dined with John Collier, and in the even- 
 ing, after taking tea with Miss Lamb, accompanied her to 
 Covent Garden. We saw*" The Eivals," and Farren for the 
 first time, the last theatrical tyro that has appeared. His Sir 
 Anthony Absolute appeared to me delightful. He is a young 
 man, I am told, yet he was so disguised by painted wrinkles, 
 and a face and figure made up by art, that I could hardly 
 credit the report. The consequence of a manufactured coun- 
 tenance and constrained unnatural attitudes is, that the actor 
 has a hard and inflexible manner. Liston's Acres, however, 
 gave me the greatest pleasure. It was infinitely comic and 
 laughable, and none the worse for being even burlesque and 
 farcical. 
 
 Rem.'\ — My journal mentions Farren as an admirable comic 
 actor, only twenty-five or twenty-six years old. This must be a 
 mistake. He is now worn out, and apparently a very old man. 
 
 December 19th, — I dined with Sergeant Blossett. No one 
 with him but Miss Peckwell and a nephew of the Sergeant's, a 
 Mr. Grote, a merchant, who reads German, and appears to be 
 an intelligent, sensible man, having a curiosity for German 
 philosophy as well as German poetry. I read a number of 
 things by Goethe and others to the Sergeant, who has already 
 made great advances in the language, and can relish the best 
 poetry. Grote has borrowed books of me. 
 
 Eem.X — This year I became a "barrister of five years' 
 standing," an expression that has become almost ridiculous, 
 being the qualification required for many offices by acts of 
 Parliament, while it is notorious that many such barristers are 
 ill qualified for any office. I was no exception, certainly, at any 
 time of my life, being never a learned lawyer or a skilful advo- 
 cate, and yet in this my fifth year I attained some reputation ; 
 and of this year I have some anecdotes to relate of myself and 
 others not uninteresting to those who may care for me or for 
 the profession. 
 
 There was but an insignificant increase of fees, from £415 
 
 * There will be further reference to this bust in the year 1829. It is a mag- 
 nificent work of art. A cast of it is or was to be seen at the Crystal Palace, 
 t Written in 1851. | Written in 1851. 
 
^ KS18.] A USURY CASE. ^^V' 397 
 
 in 1817 to £ 488 during this year; but this little practice 
 brought me into connection with superior men, and into supe- 
 rior courts. 
 
 For instance, 1 had an appeal in the Council Chambers from 
 Gibraltar with Sir Samuel Romilly. It was a case of mercantile 
 guaranty. I have forgotten the facts, and I refer to the case 
 merely because it shows Sir Samuel's practice. He read from 
 the printed statement, in the most unimpressive manner, the 
 simple facts, adding scarcely an observation of his own. I 
 followed at some length, not comprehending the course taken 
 by my excellent leader, and Hundleby,* my client, w^as satisfied 
 with my argument. I pleaded before Sir W. Grant, Sir William 
 Scott, &c. Hart, afterwards Chancellor of Ireland, and Lovett 
 were for the respondents. Then Sir Samuel Romilly replied in 
 a most masterly manner. I never heard a more luminous and 
 powerful argument. He went over the ground I had trod, but 
 I scarcely knew my own arguments, so improved were they. 
 Judgment was idtimately given in our favor. I have since 
 understood that it was Sir Samuel's practice, when he had the 
 reply, to open the case in this way, and not even to read the 
 brief before he went to court, knowing that his junior and ad- 
 versaries would give him time enough to become master of the 
 facts and settle his argument. 
 
 At the Spring Assizes, at Thetford, I made a speech which 
 gained me more credit than any I ever made, either before or 
 after, and established my character as a speaker : luckily it re- 
 quired no law. I thought of it afterwards with satisfaction, and 
 I will give an account of the case here (it will be the only one 
 in these Reminiscences), partly because it will involve some 
 questions of speculative morality. It was a defence in a Qui 
 tarn action for penalties for usury to the amount of £ 2,640.t 
 My attorney was a stranger. He had offered the brief to 
 Jameson, who declined it from a consciousness of inability to 
 speak, and recommended me. The plaintiff's witness had re- 
 quested my client to lend him money, which, it is stated by 
 the single witness, he consented to do on the payment of £ 20. 
 A mortgage also was put in ; and on this the case rested. The 
 
 ^ * Hundleby was a solicitor, the partner of Alliston, who still lives. He mar- 
 ried the daughter of Curtis, a wealthy man. He has been dead many years, 
 and his widow is now the wife of Tite, the architect of the Royal Exchanore. — 
 H. C. R., 1851. 
 
 t A Qui tarn action is an action brought by an informer for penalties of 
 which a half-share is give to the informer by the statute. The suit would be 
 by Moses, plaintiff, who sues " as well for himself" ( Qui tarn) as for our Lord 
 the King. 
 
098 REMINISCKNCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBLXSON. [Ciiai-. 21. 
 
 defence was a simple one. It could lie only in showing that 
 the witness could not safely be relied on ; and this I did in a 
 way that produced applause from the audience, a compliment 
 from the judge, and a verdict in my favor. Now, what I look 
 back upon with pleasure is, that I gained this verdict very 
 fairly and by no misstatement. I will put down some of the 
 salient points of my speech, of which I have a distinct recollec- 
 tion. 
 
 I began : " Gentlemen, I have often thought that juries, as 
 conscientious men, anxious to do justice, must be distressed by 
 perceiving that they are called upon to decide a case on most 
 imperfect evidence, where, from the nature of the case, they can 
 only guess what the truth may be, hearing only one side. This 
 is one of those cases. There can be no doubt that my client 
 lent a sum of money to that man, his own attorney, whom you 
 have seen in that box ; and that man has thought proper to 
 tell you that, in order to obtain that loan, he was forced to 
 give <£ 20. Now, this was a transaction between these persons, 
 and I cannot possibly contradict him. For, were I to read you 
 my brief, or tell you what my client says, of course denying all 
 this, I should be reproved by his Lordship, and incur the ridi- 
 cule of my learned friends around me ; because, what the party 
 in the cause says is not evidence.* This is a hardship, but it 
 is the law ; and I refer to it now, not to censure the law, which 
 would be indecorous, but to draw your attention to this most 
 important consequence, that since you are compelled to hear 
 the witness, — one party alone, — and are not at liberty to 
 hear the other party, in a transaction between them and none 
 other, you have the duty imposed on you closely to examine 
 what that witness has said, and ask yourselves this question, 
 whether such a statement as he has thought proper to make, 
 knowing that he may swear falsely with safety (for he can never 
 be contradicted), must be credited by you. 
 
 " Gentlemen, at the same time that I am not in a condition 
 
 to deny what that man has said, I add, with the most entire 
 
 confidence, that it is impossible for you, acting under those 
 
 rules which good sense and conscience alike dictate, to do 
 
 other than bv vour verdict declare that you cannot, in this 
 1/1/ tj ' 
 
 essentially criminal case, convict the defendant on the un- 
 corroborated testimony of that single witness." 
 
 I then pointedly stated that, though in form an action, this 
 was in substance a criminal case, and to be tried by the rules 
 
 * This law is now altered. 
 
( 
 
 1818.] THE COUNSELLOR'S BAG. 399 
 
 observed in a criminal court ; and that, unless they had a per- 
 fect conviction, they would not consign this old retired trades- 
 man to a jail or a workhouse for the rest of his days in order 
 to enrich Mr. Moses (the common informer, who had luckily a 
 Jew name) and the Treasury. And I pledged myself to show 
 that in this case were combined all imaginable reasons for dis- 
 trust, so as to render it morally impossible, whatever the fact 
 might be, to give a verdict for the Qui tarn plaintiff. 
 
 I then successively expatiated on the several topics which 
 the case supplied, — on the facts that the single witness was 
 the plaintiff's own attorney, — an uncertificated bankrupt who 
 was within the rules of the King's Bench Prison ; that he 
 came down that morning from London in the custody of a 
 sheriff's officer, though, when asked where he came from, he 
 at first said from home, having before said he was an attorney 
 at Lynn. And I had laid a trap for him, and led him to say 
 he expected no part of the penalty. This I represented to be 
 incredible ; and I urged with earnestness the danger to so- 
 ciety if such a man were of necessity to be believed because 
 he dared to take an oath for which he could not be called to 
 account here. And I alluded to recent cases in which other 
 King's Bench prisoners had been transported for perjury, and 
 to the known cases of perjury for blood-money. As I have 
 already said, I sat down with applause, which was renewed 
 when the verdict for the defendant was pronounced. The man 
 I had so exposed gave me s:omething to do afterwards on his 
 own account ; and, more than once, attorneys, new clients, in 
 bringing me a brief, alluded to this case. But the power of 
 making such a speech does not require the talents most essen- 
 tial to the barrister, — none of which did I, in fact, possess. 
 
 In the spring Term of this year, Gurney,* the King's Coun- 
 sel's clerk, brought me a bag, for which I presented him with 
 a guinea. This custom is now obsolete, and therefore I mention 
 it. It was formerly the etiquette of the bar that none but 
 Sergeants and King's Counsel could carry a bag in Westminster 
 Hall. Till some King's Counsel presented him with one, how- 
 ever large the junior (that is, stuff-gowned) barrister's business 
 might be, he was forced to carry his papers in his hand. It 
 was considered that he who carried a bag was a rising man. 
 
 At the following Bury Assizes I was concerned in a case no 
 otherwise worth noticing than as it gave occasion to good-na- 
 tured joking. I defended Ridley, the tallow-chandler, in an 
 
 * Afterwards Baron Giirnev. 
 
400 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 action against him for a nuisance in building a chimney in 
 Still Lane. The chief witness for plaintiff was Blomfield 
 (father of the present Bishop of London).* He had said that 
 he was a schoolmaster, and the plaintiff and defendant and de- 
 fendant's counsel had all been his pupils. When I rose to 
 cross-examine him, C. J. Dallas leaned over, and in an audible 
 whisper said, *^ Now, Mr. Robinson, you may take your re- 
 venge." Good-natured sparring took place between Blomfield 
 and myself, and I got a verdict in a very doubtful case, — in- 
 sisting that, if a nuisance, it must be a general one, and so the 
 subject of an indictment. Afterwards, on an indictment, I 
 contended that the remedy was by action, if it were a griev- 
 ance, and in this I failed. 
 
 Before the summer Assizes I dined with C» J. Gibbs. Others 
 of the circuit were with me. Some parts of his conversation 
 I thought worth putting down, though not very agreeable at 
 the time, as it was manifestly didactic, and very like that of a 
 tutor with his pupils. He spoke with great earnestness against 
 the " Term Reports," t which he considered as ruinous to the 
 profession in the publication of hasty decisions, especially those 
 at Nisi Prius, and urged the necessity of arguing every case 
 on principle. On my remarking on the great fame acquired 
 by men who were eminently deficient, he was malicious enough 
 to ask for an instance. I named Erskine. He was not sorry 
 to have an opportunity of expressing his opinion of Erskine, 
 which could not be high. He remarked on Erskine's sudden 
 fall in legal reputation, " Had he been well-gTounded, he could 
 not have fallen." 
 
 This same day, on my speaking of the talents required in 
 an opening and reply, he said that the Lord Chancellor (Eldon) 
 reproached Sir James Mansfield with the practice I have noticed 
 in Sir Samuel Romilly, of leaving his argument for the reply, 
 which was ascribed to laziness. Gibbs praised Bell, the Chan- 
 cery practitioner, as a man who was always in the right. " He 
 always gave the most satisfactory answer to a question in the 
 fewest words." 
 
 In the winter of this year I heard from Gurney some inter- 
 esting facts about fees, which within about eleven or twelve 
 years had risen much above what was formerly known. Kaye,$ 
 the solicitor, told Gurney once that he had that day carried the 
 
 * See ante, p. 3. \ 
 
 t One of the earliest series of periodical law reports. 
 X Solicitor to the Bank of England, «&;c. 
 
1818,] A JOKE OF JEKYLL'S. ^ 401 
 
 Attorney -General (Gibbs) 100 general retainers, that is 500 
 guineas. These were on the Baltic captures and insurance 
 cases. Gibbs did not think tha't Erskine ever made more than 
 7,000 guineas, and Mingay confessed that he only once made 
 5,000 guineas. He observed that the great fortunes made in 
 ancient times by lawyers must have been indirectly as the 
 stewards of great men. Otherwise they were unaccountable. 
 
 I must here add that all this is little compared with the 
 enormous gains of my old fellow-circuiteer, Charles Austin, 
 who is said to have made 40,000 guineas by pleading before 
 Parliament in one session. 
 
 This year there were great changes in the law courts. Of 
 the judicial promotions Jekyll said, being the professional wag, 
 that they came by titles very different, viz. : C. J. Abbott 
 by descent, J. Best by intrusion, and Richardson by the opera- 
 tion of law. The wit of the two first is pungent ; the last, a 
 deserved compliment. It was expected, said Jekyll, that 
 Yaughan would come in by prescription. This was not so 
 good. Sir Henry Halford,* the King's physician, was his 
 brother. 
 
 I must not forget that, on Aldebert's death, his books were 
 taken by a bookseller, but I was allowed to have what I liked 
 at the bookseller's price. I laid out £ 40 in purchasing Pi- 
 ranesi's prints and other works of art, and had many calls 
 from men of taste to see them. 
 
 The Colliers, with whom I used to dine, left London this 
 year. Their place was to some extent supplied by John Payne 
 Collier,! who took a house in Bouverie Street. It was not 
 then foreseen that he would become a great Shakespearian 
 critic, though he had already begun to be a writer. 
 
 * Sir Henry Halford was the son of Dr. Vaughan of Leicester, but changed 
 his name in 1809, when he inherited a fortune from his mother's cousin, Sir 
 Charles Halford. 
 
 t J. P. Collier wrote " History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of 
 Shakespeare," 1831 ; " New Facts regarding the Life of Shakespeare," 1835; 
 " Shakespeare Library ; a Collection of the Romances, Novels, Poems, anc] 
 Histories used by Shakespeare as the Foundation of his Dramas," 1843.; and 
 various other works. 
 
402 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chaf. 22. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 1819. 
 
 JANUARY 4th. — (At Bury.) I walked early up town and 
 left with Mr. Clarkson his MS. account of his interview with 
 the Emperor of Russia, at Aix-la-Chapelle, on the subject of 
 the slave-trade. This interview must receive its explanation 
 from future events. The Emperor talked of the Quakers and 
 Bible Societies, of the Society against War, of which he consid- 
 ered himself a member, and of the slave-trade, as one might 
 have expected a religious clergyman would have done. Mr. 
 Clarkson is a sincere believer in the Emperor's sincerity. 
 
 Thomas R. to Habakkuk R. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, January 6, 1819. 
 
 .... The Buck party were at my house last Friday, when 
 we were entertained, and most highly interested, by Mr. Clark- 
 son's account of his interview with the Emperor of Russia, at 
 Aix-la-Chapelle. His reception by the most powerful poten- 
 tate in the world was extremely gracious. The Emperor took 
 him most cordially by both his hands, drew a chair for him and 
 another for himself, when they sat down, in Mr. Clarkson's 
 language, " knee to knee, and face to face." The principal 
 subject of their conversation was, of course, the abolition of 
 the slave-trade, in which the Emperor takes an extraordinary 
 interest, and seems to be most earnestly anxious to use his 
 powerful interest to induce the other powers of Europe to con- 
 cur in this measure 
 
 The Emperor, at this meeting, professed likewise the most 
 pacific sentiments, and spoke with great energy of the evil and 
 sin of Tvar, admitting that it was altogether contrary to the 
 spirit of Christianity, and said that he desired to inculcate 
 this sentiment in the minds of the different powers, and should 
 therefore propose frequent congresses to adjust disputes, with- 
 out having recourse to the too common arbitration of the 
 sword. You know, perhaps, that, for the purpose ef eradicat- 
 ing the w^arlike spirit. Peace Societies have been formed both 
 in this country and in America. (We have a small one in this 
 
1819.] BENJAMIN CONSTANT. — KEAN IN BRUTUS. 403 
 
 town.) The Emperor assured Mr. Clarkson that he highly ap- 
 proved of them, and wished to be considered as belonging to 
 them. And no longer ago than yesterday, Mr. Clarkson re- 
 ceived a copy of a letter, written in English by the Emperor 
 with his own hand, and addressed to Mr. Marsden, the Chairman 
 of the London Peace Society, in which he repeats the same sen- 
 timents in favor of the principles of the society. It is at any 
 rate a curious phenomenon to find an advocate of such princi- 
 ples in such a person. There are those who doubt his sincer- 
 ity, but where can be the motive to induce the Autocrat of all 
 the Riissias to flatter even such an individual, however excel- 
 lent, as Mr. Clarkson, or Mr. Marsden, a stock-broker in Lon- 
 don ] 
 
 January IJfth, — I spent the day partly in reading some very 
 good political writings by Benjamin Constant, — the first part 
 of his first volume. His principles appear excellent, and there 
 is to me originality in them. His treating the monarchical 
 power as distinct from the executive pleases me much. He 
 considers the essence of the monarch's office to lie in the su- 
 perintending everything and doing nothing. He controls the 
 legislature by convoking and dismissing their assemblies ; and 
 he even creates and annihilates the ministers. Being thus sep- 
 arated from the executive body, — that may be attacked, and 
 even destroyed (as is constantly done in England), without any 
 detriment to the state. 
 
 Rem,* — Had Louis Philippe felt this, he might have re- 
 tained his throne, but he would be an autocrat, which did not 
 suit the French people, f 
 
 January 26th. — We saw " Brutus." This play has had 
 great success, and with reason, for it exhibits Kean advanta- 
 geously ; but it seems utterly without literary merit, though the 
 subject admitted of a great deal of passionate poetry. Kean's 
 exhibition of the Idiot in the first act was more able than 
 pleasing ; when he assumed the hero, he strutted and swelled, 
 to give himself an air he never can assume with grace. It was 
 not till the close of the piece, when he had to pass sentence on 
 his own son, that he really found his way to my heart through 
 my imagination. His expression of feeling was deep and true, 
 and the conflict of affection and principle well carried out. An 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t Added in the margin of the MS. : " Palpable ignorance, this ! At this 
 hour a bold usurper and autocrat has succeeded because he knew how to go to 
 work. An accident may, indeed, any day destroy his power. April 17, 1862. 
 T|ie date is material." 
 
404 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 awkward effect was produced by the attempt to blend too 
 much in one play. The act by which Brutus overturned the 
 Tarquins was not that of a man who had a son capable of trea- 
 son against his country. 
 
 February 2d. — Naylor took tea with me ; and soon after, 
 Charles and Mary Lamb came to look at my prints. And the 
 looking them over afforded us pleasure. Lamb has great taste 
 and feeling ; his criticisms are instructive, and I find that en- 
 joyment from works of art is heightened by sympathy. Tal- 
 fourd came while we were thus engaged. He stayed with us, 
 and afterwards joined us in a rubber, which occupied us till 
 late. Talfourd stayed till near one, talking on personal mat- 
 ters. 
 
 February 18th. — I lounged for half an hour before the 
 Covent Garden hustings, — a scene only ridiculous and dis- 
 gusting. The vulgar abuse of the candidates from the vilest 
 rabble ever beheld is not rendered endurable by either wit or 
 good temper, or the belief of there being any integrity at the 
 bottom. I just saw Hobhouse. His person did not please 
 me ; but Sir Richard Phillips, whom I met there, tells me I 
 am like him, which I do not think to be the fact. Lamb * I 
 could scarcely see, but his countenance is better. Orator Hunt 
 was on the hustings, but he could not obtain a hearing from 
 the mob ; and this fact was the most consolatory part of the 
 spectacle. 
 
 February 28th. — After dining at Collier's I went to Godwin, 
 with whom I drank tea. Curran was there, and I had a very 
 agreeable chat with him ; he is come to print his father's life, 
 written by himself ; and he projects an edition of his speeches. 
 He related an affecting anecdote of Grattan in the House of 
 Commons. He was speaking in a style that betrayed the de- 
 cline of the faculties of a once great man ; he was rambling 
 and feeble, and being assailed by coughing, he stopped, paused, 
 and said in an altered voice, " I believe they are right, sir ! " 
 and sat down. 
 
 April 3d. — By coach to Ipswich ; then on foot in the dark 
 to Play ford (four miles). Mrs. Clarkson was in high health 
 and spirits ; Tom and Mr. Clarkson also well. I met with 
 some visitors there, who rendered the visit peculiarly agree- 
 able. Mr., Mrs., and Miss Grahame, from Glasgow. He is a 
 Writer to the Signet, a brother to the late James Grahame the 
 
 * The Honorable George Lamb, son of the first Lord Melbourne, and 
 orother of William, who afterwards became Prime Minister. 
 
1819.] ON BURKE. 405 
 
 poet ; a most interesting man, having a fine handsome face 
 and figm'e, resembling Wordsworth in his gait and general air, 
 though not in his features, and being a first-rate talker, as far 
 as sense and high moral feeling can render conversation de- 
 lightful. We talked, during the few days of my stay, about 
 English and Scotch law. He complained that the Comitas 
 gentium was not allowed to Scotchmen ; that is, a lunatic 
 having money in the funds must be brought to England to 
 have a commission issued here (though he is already found a 
 lunatic in Scotland) before dividends can be paid, &c. ; and 
 bank powers of attorney must be executed according to Eng- 
 lish forms, even in Scotland. The first case is certainly a great 
 abuse. Mr. Grahame pleased me much, and I have already 
 nearly decided on going to Scotland this summer. In politics 
 he is very liberal, inclining to ultra principles. He was severe 
 against Southey and W^ordsworth for their supposed apostasy. 
 He speaks highly of the Scotch law^, and considers the admin- 
 istration of justice there much superior to ours. 
 
 April 28th, — My ride to-day was very agreeable ; the 
 weather was mild and fine, and I had no ennui. I travelled 
 with the Rev. Mr. Godfrey, with whom I chatted occasionally, 
 and I read three books of the " Odyssey," and several of 
 Burke's speeches. Burke's quarrel with Fox does not do 
 honor to Burke. I fear he w^as glad of an opportunity to 
 break with his old friend ; yet he appears to have been pro- 
 voked. In the fourth volume of Burke's Speeches, there is 
 the same wonderful difference between the reports of the news- 
 papers and the publications of Burke himself. 
 
 His own notes of his speech on the Unitarian Petition 
 are full of profundity and wisdom ; his attack on the Rights 
 of Man as an abstract principle is justified on his own repre- 
 sentation. How true his axiom, " Crude and unconnected 
 truths are in practice w^hat falsehoods are in theory ! " Strange 
 that he should have undergone so great obloquy because this 
 wise remark has not been comprehended ! 
 
 May Sd. — I dined with Walter, Eraser, and Barnes. Eraser 
 I attacked on a trimming article in yesterday's Times about 
 Catholic Emancipation. And Barnes attacked me about 
 " Peter Bell " ; but this is a storm I must yield to. Words- 
 worth has set himself back ten years by the publication of 
 this work. I read also Tom Cribb's Memorial to the Congress, 
 — an amusing volume ; but I would rather read than have 
 written it. It is really surprising that a gentleman (for so 
 
406 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 Moore is in station and connections) should so descend as to 
 exhibit the Prince Regent and the Emperor of Russia at a 
 boxing-match, under the names of Porpus and Long Sandy. 
 The boxing cant language does not amuse me, even in Moore's 
 gravely burlesque lines. 
 
 May 2Sd. — I spent several hours at home, looking over 
 reports, <fec., and then walked to Clapton. I had a fine walk 
 home over Bethnal Green. Passing Bonner's Fields, a nice 
 boy, who was my gossiping companion, pointed out to me the 
 site of Bishop Bonner's house, where the Bishop sat and saw 
 the Papists burnt : such is the accuracy of traditional tales. 
 He further showed me some spots in which the ground is low : 
 here the poor burnt creatures were buried, it seems ; and 
 though the ground has been filled up hundreds of times, it 
 always sinks in again. " I do not suppose it is true," said the 
 boy, " but I was afraid once to walk on the spot, and so are 
 the little boys now." The feeling that Nature sympathizes 
 with man in horror of great crimes, and bears testimony to 
 the commission of them, is a very frequent superstition, — 
 perhaps the most universal. 
 
 June Jfth, — My sister consulted Astley Cooper. She was 
 delighted to find him far from unkind or harsh. He treated 
 her with great gentleness, and very kindly w^arned her as much 
 as possible to correct her irritability, — not of temper, but of 
 nerves. 
 
 June 10th, — Clemens Brentano is turned monk ! 
 
 June IJfth, — Coming home, I found Hamond in town, and 
 went with him to the Exhibition. I stayed a couple of hours, 
 but had no great pleasure there. Scarcely a picture much 
 pleased me. Turner has fewer attractions than he used to 
 have, and Callcott's " Rotterdam " is gaudier than he used to 
 be ; he is aiming at a richer cast of color, but is less beautiful 
 as he deviates from the delicate grays of Cuyp. Cooper's 
 " Marston Moor " did not interest me, though what I have 
 heard since of the artist does. I am told he was lately a 
 groom to Meux, the brewer, who, detecting him in the act of 
 making portraits of his horses, would not keep him as a groom, 
 but got him employment as a horse-painter. He was before a 
 rider at Astley's, it is said. He went into the Academy to 
 learn to draw with the boys. Flaxman says he knew nothing 
 of the mechanism of his art, — he could not draw at all, — but 
 by dint of genius, without instruction (except, as he says, what 
 he learned from a shilling book he bought in the Strand), he 
 
1819.] COLLIER'S BREACH OF PRIVILEGE. 407 
 
 could paint very finely. He is already, says Flaxman, a great 
 painter, and will probably become very eminent indeed. He is 
 about thirty-five years of age, and is already an Associate. He 
 paints horses and low life, but his " Marston Moor" is regarded 
 as a fine composition. His appearance does not bespeak his 
 origin. " I introduced him to Lord Grey," said Flaxman, 
 " and as they stood talking together, I could not discern any 
 difference between the peer and the painter." 
 
 June 16th, — I was much occupied by a scrape John Collier 
 had got into. A few nights ago he reported that Mr. Hume 
 had said in the House of Commons that Canning had risen 
 above the sufferings of others by laughing at them. Bell* 
 being last night summoned before the House, John Collier 
 gave himself as the author, and was in consequence committed 
 to the custody of the Sergeant-at-Arms. Mr. Wynn moved 
 that he should be committed to Newgate, but this was with- 
 drawn in consequence of Collier's manly and becoming conduct. 
 I was exceedingly alarmed lest this might hurt Collier with 
 Walter, but, to my satisfaction, I found that Collier had raised 
 himself in Walter's opinion; for, by his gentlemanly behavior, he 
 raised the character of the reporters, and he completely relieved 
 Walter from the imputation of having altered the article. I 
 called on Collier in the House of Commons Prison ; he was in 
 good spirits. Mrs. Collier was there, and Walter came too, 
 with Barnes. I chatted with Walter about the propriety of 
 petitioning. He washed Collier to lie in custody till the end of 
 the session, but I differed in opinion,-and corrected the petitioo, 
 which was ultimately adopted. After a hasty dinner in Hall, 
 I ran down to the House. Barnes procured me a place, and I 
 stayed in the gallery till quite late. There was no opposition 
 to Mr. W. Smith's motion for Collier's discharge. He was re- 
 primanded by the Speaker in strong unmeaning words. W. 
 Smith moved for the bill to relieve the Unitarians ao-ainst the 
 Marriage Act.f The speech had the merit of raising a feeling 
 favorable to the speaker, and it was not so intelligible as to ex- 
 cite opposition. Lord Castlereagh did not pretend to under- 
 stand it, and Mr. Wilberforce spoke guardedly and wath favor of 
 the projected measure. The rest of the speaking this evening was 
 
 * The publisher of the Times. 
 
 t Mr. W. Smith's object was to obtain for Unitarians at their marriage the 
 omission of all reference to the Trinity. He did not venture to propose the 
 more rational and complete relief, — which was after a time obtained, — the 
 marriage of Dissenters in their own places of worship. VuU Mav's Constitu- 
 tional History, Vol. II. p. 384. 
 
408 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22 
 
 very poor indeed, — much below my expectation. I was heartily 
 tired before eleven o'clock. I then came home, and read a little 
 of Homer in bed. 
 
 June 23d, — I called late on Mrs. John Collier. She infoims 
 me that Walter has been doing a very handsome thing by John 
 Collier. He gave him a bank-note far £ 50, saying he need not 
 retm-n the surplus after paying the fees, and hoped that it would 
 be some compensation for the inconvenience he had suffered by 
 his imprisonment. Now, the fees amounted to not more than 
 £ 14 or c£ 15. This is very generous certainly. 
 
 July 6th, — I dined with Collier, and had a game of chess 
 for an hour. I then looked over papers, &c. in chambers ; 
 and between seven and eight went to Godwin's by invitation. 
 Charles and Mary Lamb were there, also Mr. Booth, — a sin- 
 gular character, not unlike Curran in person ] a clever man, 
 says Godwin, and in his exterior very like the Grub Street 
 poet of the last century. I had several rubbers of whist. 
 Charles Lamb's good-humor and playfulness made the evening 
 agreeable, which w^ould otherwise have been made uncomfort- 
 able by the painful anxiety visible in Mrs. Godwin, and sus- 
 pected in Godwin. I came home late. 
 
 July 7th. — I dined by invitation with Mr. Belsham. T. 
 Stansfeld had written to me by Mr. Kenrick (a nephew of Mr, 
 Belsham),* requesting me to give Mr. Kenrick letters of intro- 
 duction to Germany. Kenrick left me the letter with an invita- 
 tion from Belsham. I had an agi'eeable visit : a small party, 
 — Mr. and Miss Belsham, Spurrell, Senr., Martineau, Jardine,t 
 a Mr. Reid, and Mr. Kenrick. We kept up a conversation w4th 
 very little disputation. Belsham (and I joined him) defended 
 Church Establishments, which he thought better than leaving 
 religion to make its way alone. | He said, I think my Church 
 ought to be established ; but as that cannot be, I would rather 
 the Anglican Church should be maintained, with all its errors 
 and superstitions, than that the unlearned should be left at 
 large, each man spreading abroad his own follies and absurdi- 
 ties. § Kenrick opposed him, and had on some points the best 
 of the argument. Jardine, and indeed all the party, were 
 
 * There was no actual relationship between Mr. Kenrick and Mr. Belsham ; 
 Mr. Kenrick's father married, as his second wife, the sister of Mr. Belsham. 
 
 t The Barrister, afterwards a Police Magistrate. 
 
 J Written in 1S51. 
 
 § Mr. Belsham's views on this subject were published in three sermons, 
 entitled " Christianity pleading for the Patronage of the Civil Power, but pro- 
 testing against the Aid of Penal Laws.*' Hunter, St. PauPs Churcliyard, 1820. 
 
1819.] ANECDOTE OF GOLDSMITH. 409 
 
 against Mr. Belsham and myself. We talked of animal magnet- 
 ism, and told ghost stories, and ghosts seemed on the whole to 
 be in credit. 
 
 July 8th, — Mr. Kenrick breakfasted with me. I was much 
 pleased with him ; he has been, and indeed still is, tutor at the 
 Manchester New College, York, and is going for a trip to Ger- 
 many to improve in philological studies. He is a stanch Uni- 
 tarian, w^ith a deal of zeal, but is mild in his manners, a te- 
 nacious disputant, but courteous, — a very promising young 
 man.* 
 
 July 12th, — (At Bury.) I had an agreeable walk with Mrs. 
 Kent over the skirts of Hardwick Heath, — rather, enclosure, 
 — and home by the West Gate Street. Mrs. Kent w^as grad- 
 ually brought to recollect scenes familiar to her in childhood, 
 but I could recall few. How little do I recollect of my 
 past life ! and the idea often recurs to me that it seems diffi- 
 cult to reconcile responsibility with utter oblivion. Coleridge 
 has the striking thought that possibly the punishment of a 
 future life may consist in bringing back the consciousness of 
 the past. 
 
 July 21st, — Mrs. Kent had left us in the morning. I there- 
 fore thought it right to dine with the magistrates ; and I am 
 glad I did so, as I had a pleasing day. We discussed the 
 question, how far a barrister may lawfully try to persuade the 
 Bench to a decision which he himself knows to be wrong. I 
 endeavored to establish this distinction, that an advocate may 
 practise sophistry, though he may not misstate a case or a 
 fact. 
 
 July 25th, — I breakfasted with Basil Montagu, and had an 
 hour's pleasant chat wuth him. He related that Dr. Scott in- 
 formed him that he waited on Oliver Goldsmith, with another 
 gentleman, to make a proposal, on the part of Lord North, 
 that Goldsmith should write on behalf of the Ministry. They 
 found him in chambers in the Temple. He was offered any 
 compensation he might desire. He said he could earn from 
 the booksellers as much as his necessities required, and he 
 would rather live without being obliged to any one. Scott told 
 this stoiy as a proof of Goldsmith's ignorance of the world. 
 
 August 7th, — This was a morning of disappointment. I 
 
 * He is now the most learned of the English Unitarians, and has taken the 
 lead in the free investigation of the Old Testament, presuming to applv to it, 
 notwithstanding its sacred character, the rules of profane criticism, he has 
 lately retired from presiding over the Manchester College — H. C. R., 1851. 
 H. C. R. had especially in view Mr. Kenrick's work on Primeval History. 
 
 VOL. I. 18 
 
410 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 had intended to do my best in defending some Lavenham riot- 
 ers for bull-baiting, but Burr cut the matter short by asserting 
 that, though bull-baiting is a lawful sport, in an enclosure of 
 private property, it could not be tolerated in the market-place 
 of a town, over which there is a right of way. I endeavored 
 to contend that, if the bull-baiting had lasted from time im- 
 memorial, that fact must modify the right of way. I consent- 
 ed that a verdict of Guilty should be entered, on an engage- 
 ment that no one should be brought up for judgment, even if 
 the riot should be renewed next 5th November. 
 
 August 10th. — On the evening of my arrival at Norwich I 
 was even alarmed at the quantity of business there. It ex- 
 ceeded, in fact, anything I ever had before. I had during 
 these assizes seventeen briefs, of which thirteen were in causes* 
 The produce, seventy-five guineas, including retainers, exclu- 
 sive of the fee of an arbitration. This raises my fees on the 
 circuit to one hundred and thirty-four g-uineas, a sum exceeding 
 by twenty-nine guineas the utmost I ever before received. Of 
 these causes I shall mention three or four afterwards. I had 
 one consultation this evening at Sergeant Blossett's, and I was 
 engaged the rest of the time till late reading briefs. 
 
 August 29th, Eem.f — This day commenced a valuable ac- 
 quaintance with Mr. Benecke, of whom I think very highly, 
 as among the most remarkable Germans I have ever known. 
 I had received a letter from Poel of Altona, introducing to me 
 a Miss Reinhardt, who wished to establish herself in England 
 as a teacher of music. She was on a visit at the Beneckes'. 
 I called on her, and was invited to dine with them soon after, 
 and my acquaintance ripened into intimacy. Benecke was a 
 man of great ability in various departments ; he was a chem- 
 ist, and in that science he had a manufactory, by w^hich he 
 lived. He had been engaged as the conductor of an insurance 
 office at Hamburg, and wrote an elaborate work on the law 
 of insurance in German, which in Germany is the great au- 
 thority on the subject. This induced him, after our acquaint- 
 ance, to write a small volume on the law of insurance in 
 English, which I saw through the press. There was absolute- 
 ly nothing to correct in the language. The book did not sell, 
 but Lord Tenterden spoke well of it as a work of principle, 
 and allowed it to be dedicated to him. But these were merely 
 works and pursuits of necessity. He w^as a philosopher, and 
 of the most religious character : he professed orthodoxy, bnt 
 
 * That is, not criminal cases. t Written in 1851. 
 
Ibly.J THEOLOGICAL SPECULATION. 411 
 
 he would not have been tolerated by our high-and-dry ortho- 
 dox. He had a scheme of his own, of which the foundation 
 was — the belief in the pre-existence of every human being. 
 His speculation was, that every one had taken part in the 
 great rebellion in a former state, and that we were all ulti- 
 mately to be restored to the Divine favor. This doctrine of 
 final restoration was the redeeming article of his creed. He 
 professed to believe in the divinity of Christ, and when I put 
 the question to him, he said, that he considered that doctrine 
 as the most essential truth of religion ; that God alone with- 
 out Christ would be nothing to us ; Christ is the copula by 
 means of whom man is brought to God. Otherwise, the idea 
 of God would be what the Epicureans deem it, — a mere idle 
 and empty notion. I believe Benecke was first led to think 
 well of me by hearing me observe, what I said without any 
 notion of his opinions, that an immortality ct parte post sup- 
 posed a like immortality a parte ante ; and that I could not 
 conceive of the creation in time of an imperishable immortal 
 being. 
 
 September 13th. — I rode to London. During the ride I 
 was strikingly reminded of the great improvement of the 
 country within thirty or forty years. An old man, on the box, 
 pointed out to me a spot near a bridge on the road, where 
 about forty years ago the stage was turned over and seven 
 people drowned ; and he assured me that, when he was a boy, 
 the road beyond Hounslow was literally lined with gibbets, on 
 which were, in irons, the carcasses of malefactors blackening in 
 the sun. T found London all full of people, collected to re- 
 ceive Hunt * in triumph, and accompany him to the Crown 
 and Anchor to a dinner, — a mere rabble, certainly, but it is a 
 great and alarming evil that the rabble should be the leaders 
 in anything. I hear that when, in the evening, Hunt came, 
 the crowds were immense, and flags were waved over him with 
 " Liberty or Death " inscribed. 
 
 September 22d, — I called on Talfourd for a short time. I 
 dined with Collier and then hastened to Flaxman's. I had a 
 very pleasant chat with him and Miss Denman.f He related 
 an interesting anecdote of Canova. He had breakfasted with 
 Canova at, I believe, Mr. Hope's, and then examined with him 
 the marbles and antiques. Among them was a beautiful bust 
 
 * " Orator" Hunt, the Radical, afterwards M. P. for Preston. 
 I I t Miss Denman was Mrs. Flaxman's sister, and Flaxman's adopted daughter 
 
 by whom the Flaxman Gallery at University College was founded. 
 
412 REMINlSCt:NCP:S OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 of Antoninus Pius. Flaxman pointed it out to Canova, on 
 which Canova, without answering him, muttered to himself, 
 with gestulations of impatience : ^' I told him so, — I told him 
 so, — but he would never take counsel." This was repeated 
 several times in a fit of absence. At length Flaxman tapped 
 him on the shoulder and said : *' Whom did you tell so ] " Of 
 course, the conversation was in Italian. Receiving no reply, 
 Flaxman pressed the question. *' Why, Buonaparte," said he. 
 ** I observed to him repeatedly, that the busts of Antoninus 
 Pius were to be seen everywhere ; they were to be found in 
 every part of Italy in great abundance, he had made himself so 
 beloved. But he would take no advice. " — "And did you expect 
 him to take any '? " said Flaxman. Canova could not say that 
 he did, but stated that the courtiers of Buonaparte were often 
 astonished at the freedoms he took. 
 
 Rem* — Flaxman always spoke of Canova as a man of great 
 moral qualities, of which I believe he thought more highly 
 than of his character as an artist. 
 
 October 2d. — Colonel D'Arcy was at Masquerier's this even- 
 ing, — a very agreeable man, who has been some years in 
 Persia. He explained to us the meaning of the signets so of- 
 ten mentioned in the Bible and Oriental writings. In Persia 
 every man has three seals : a large one, with which he testifies 
 his messages to an inferior ; a small one, sent to a superior ; 
 and a middle-sized, for an equal. Every man has about him 
 an Indian-ink preparation, and, instead of signing his name, he 
 sends an impression of his seal, as a proof that the messenger 
 comes from him. Colonel D'Arcy speaks Persian fluently. He 
 says it is a simple and easy language, as spoken, but the writ' 
 ten language is blended with the Arabic, and is make comple:^ 
 and difficult. 
 
 October 12th. — I took an early breakfast, and a little aftei 
 nine was in the King's Bench, Guildhall. There was a vast 
 crowd already assembled to hear the trial of Carlile for blas- 
 phemy, which had attracted m}^ curiosity also. The prosecu- 
 tion was for republishing Paine's " Age of Reason." The 
 Attorney-General opened the case in an ordinary way. His 
 pathos did not seem to flow fi:'om him, and his remarks were 
 neither striking nor original. Carlile is a pale-faced, flat-nosed 
 man, not unlike Schelling, but having no intellectual resem- 
 blance ; though he has shown astonishing powers of voice, and 
 a faculty of enduring fatigue that is far more wonderful than 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
1819.] CARLILE TRIED FOK BLASPHEMY. 413 
 
 enviable. He does not appear in any respect a man of mind 
 or originality. His exordium was an hour long, and was a 
 mere rhapsodical defence. His chief argument was derived from 
 the late Trinity Bill,* which, said he, authorizes any one to at- 
 tack the Trinity ; and there being no statute law to declare 
 what may not be attacked, anything may. He attacked the 
 Attorney-General f as an ex- Unitarian, and was both pert and 
 insolent in the matter, though not in the manner. He then 
 set about reading the '^ Age of Reason " through, and therefore 
 I left him. 
 
 October ISth. — I lounged for half an hour into Guildhall. 
 I found Carlile on his legs ; he had been speaking without in- 
 terruption from half past nine, and I heard him at half past 
 six, with no apparent diminution of force ; but he merely read 
 from paper, and what he said seemed very little to the purpose. 
 He attempted a parallel between his case and Luther's, and 
 asserted the right to preach Deism. I see no reason why he 
 should not go on for a month in the same style. 
 
 October IJfth. — I would have walked with H to hear 
 
 some part of Carlile's trial, but it was just over. The man 
 had been speaking for near three days, and this w411 be regard- 
 ed by many people, I have no doubt, as a proof of great talent. 
 He was, however, convicted, to my great satisfaction. 
 
 October 2Jf.th. — (At Bury.) I heard Mr. Fenner preach in 
 the forenoon to ajpout twenty persons. How our sensations 
 influence our thoughts '? The meeting-house striking my eye, 
 and the voice of my old preceptor striking my ear, I was made 
 serious, and almost melancholy. 
 
 November 10th. — I went early to Sergeant Frere's chambers, 
 3 King's Bench Walk, and agreed for a fourteen years' lease 
 of them from next midsummer, at seventy-five guineas per an- 
 num. These chambers consist of one tolerably sized room ; a 
 second, which by pulling down a partition may be made into a 
 very comfortable room ; and a third small room, which may be 
 used by a clerk ; three fireplaces. Between the two larger 
 rooms is a small room, large enough to place a bed in, and 
 convenient for that purpose ;. there is also a dark place, in 
 which a bed has been placed for Frere's clerk and his wife, be- 
 sides one or two lock-up places. The chambers, without being 
 excellent, are yet good for their price, and I am pleased at the 
 
 * " An Act to relieve Persons who impugn the Doctrine of the Holy Trinity 
 from certain Penalties." Tliiii was commonly called Mr. William Smith's Act 
 t Gifford. See ante, p. 358. 
 
414 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 idea of occupying them. They are quite light, and look into 
 a garden, and the staircase is handsome, compared with my 
 present one. 
 
 December 7th. — I dined at the Colliers', and then took tea 
 with Flaxman tete-a-tete. He makes religion most amiable and 
 respectable at the same time. A childlike faith is delightful 
 in a man of distinguished genius. He spoke of his fortune, 
 and without ostentation he said he had by God's providence 
 prospered ; but he must add (what he would say to few but 
 me), that no man who had worked for him had been in want, 
 when sick or dying. 
 
 Rem.* — When Flaxman died, his effects were sworn to be 
 worth under £4,000 ; and I have been in the habit of citing 
 his comparative poverty as a disgrace to the country ; for 
 while he died worth £4,000, Chantrey died worth above 
 £ 150,000. Such is the different reward for genius and useful 
 talent ! 
 
 December 9th. — The bills now passing through Parliament 
 will be, I fear, sad monuments of the intemperance of the 
 government and people. Reformers and Ministry alike exag- 
 gerate the alarm justly to be feared from the excesses of their 
 adversary, and in so doing furnish a reasonable ground for a 
 moderated apprehension. There are a few seditious spirits in 
 the country who would raise a rebellion if they could, but 
 they cannot ; and there are some among the Ministry, perhaps, 
 who would not scruple to give the Crown powers fatal to the 
 liberties of the people. But neither the courts of law nor the 
 people (who as jurymen concur in the administration of the 
 law) would assist in a project destructive of liberty ; nor would 
 the Ministry themselves dare make a violent attempt. At the 
 same time, the " Six Acts " are objectionable. f 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t " Papers were laid before Parliament containing evidence of the state of 
 the country, which were immediately followed by the introduction of further 
 measures of repression, — then designated, and since familiarly known as, the 
 * Six Acts.' The first deprived defendants, in cases of misdemeanor, of the 
 right of traversing: to which Lord Holland induced the Chancellor to add a 
 clause, obliging the Attorney-General to bring defendants to trial within twelve 
 months. By a second it was proposed to enable the court, on the conviction of 
 a publisher of a seditious libel, to order the seizure of all copies of the libel in 
 his possession; and to punish him, on a second conviction, with fine, imprison- 
 ment, banishment, or transportation. By a third, the newspaper stamp duty 
 was imposed upon pamphlets and other papers containing news, or observations 
 on public affairs; and recognizances were required from the publishers of 
 newspapers and pamphlets for the payment of any penalty. By a fourth, no 
 meeting of more than fifty persons was permitted to be held without six days' I 
 
 notice being given by seven householders to a resident justice of the peace; i 
 
 i 
 
1S19.J MISS STEPHENS. — LISTON. — FARREN. 415 
 
 December 15th, — I spent this forenoon, like too many of 
 the preceding, loungingly. I called on Walter after being at 
 the Book Auction. He informed me of what I never knew 
 before, that the Times was prosecuted once for a libel of my 
 writing ; but the prosecution was dropped. He did not inform 
 me of the circumstance at the time, thinking, probably, the 
 intelligence would pain me. I do not know whether I am to 
 consider this an honor or not, as I am ignorant whether 
 the libel was an observation on, or the misstatement of, a 
 fact. 
 
 December 18th. — I dined at Collier's, and then went to 
 Covent Garden. I had rather more pleasure than usual. The 
 " Comedy of Errors " is better to see than read : besides, a 
 number of good songs by Miss Stephens * and others are in- 
 troduced. The two Dromios, Liston and Farren, though not 
 sufficiently alike (nor did they strive to be so, for neither would 
 adopt the other's peculiarities), afforded amusement, and the 
 incidents, barring the improbability, pass off pleasantly enough. 
 Some fine scenery is introduced, though out of chir^racter and 
 costume. The scene is in Ephesus, and yet one of the paint- 
 ings is the Piazza of Venice, &c. 
 
 December 25th. — Christmas day. I spent this festival not 
 in feasting, but very agreeably, for, like a child, I was delighted 
 in contemplating my new toy. I was the whole forenoon oc- 
 cupied, after writing some of the preceding Mems., in collect- 
 ing books, &c., in my old, and in arranging them in my new, 
 chambers. The putting in order is a delightful occupation, 
 and is at least analogous to a virtue. Virtue is the love of 
 moral order ; and taste, and cleanliness, and method are all 
 connected with the satisfaction we have in seeing and putting 
 things where they ought to be. 
 
 and all but freeholders or inhabitants of the county, parish, or township were 
 j)rohibited from attending, under penalty of fine and imprisonment. The 
 justice could change the proposed time and place of meeting: but no meeting 
 was permitted to adjourn itself. Every meeting tending to incite the people to 
 hatred and contempt of the King's person or the government and constitution 
 of the realm was declared an unlawful assembly ; and extraordinary powers 
 were given to justices for the dispersion of such'^meetings and the capture of 
 persons addressing them. If any person should be killed or injured in the 
 dispersion of an unlawful meeting, the justice was indemnified. Attending a 
 meeting with arms, or with flags, banners, or other ensigns or emblems, was an 
 offence punishable with two years' imprisonment. Lecture and debating rooms 
 were to be licensed, and open to inspection. By a fifth, the training of persons 
 in the use of arms was prohibited; and by a sixth, the magistrates in the 
 disturbed counties were empowered to search for and seize anns." — May's 
 Constitutional History, Vol. II- pp. 199, 200. 
 * Afterwards Countess of Essex. 
 
416 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 December 26th, — I read the trial of Sir Thomas More. It 
 is quite astonishing that the understanding and the courage 
 of men could be so debased as they appear to have been in the 
 reign of Henry VIII. I doubt whether the legislation of 
 any other country has an instance of an enormity so gross and 
 absurd as that of rendering it a capital offence to refuse an- 
 swering a question : yet for this offence the Lord Chancellor 
 was put to death, — a man of incorruptible integrity, a 
 martyr. Yet he was himself a persecutor, having superintend- 
 ed the infliction of torture. 
 
 I am at length settled in my new chambers, and though my 
 books are not yet put in order, I have a comfortable fire, and a 
 far more pleasing scene from my window and within my room 
 than I had in my former apartments. 
 
 December 28th. — The satisfaction I have in changing my 
 residence is accompanied by the serious reflection that I can- 
 not reasonably expect so much enjoyment, and such uninter- 
 rupted ease, as I enjoyed in Essex Court. During my six 
 years' residence there I have not once been kept awake at 
 night by pain of mind or body, nor have I ever sat down to a 
 meal without an appetite. My income is now much larger 
 than it was when I entered those chambers, and my health is 
 apparently as firm. I have lost no one source of felicity. I 
 have made accessions to my stock of agreeable companions, if 
 not friends. I have risen in respectability, by having suc- 
 ceeded to a certain extent in my profession, though perhaps 
 not so greatly as some of my friends expected. But then I 
 have gro^Ti six years older, and human life is so short that 
 this is a large portion. This reflection, I say, is a serious one, 
 but it does not sadden me. 
 
 Rem.^ — Let me add merely this, — that I believe I could 
 have written the same in 1829.t We shall see, if I go so far 
 in these Reminiscences. This year I took no journey. 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t The first year after H. C. R.'s retirement from the bar. 
 
1820.] ELTON HAMOND. 417 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 ON ELTON HAMOND [wiTH NOTB]. 
 1820. 
 
 JANUARY 1st — No New Year ever opened to me with an 
 event so tragical as that which occurred this morning. Nor 
 indeed has my journal contained any incident so melancholy. 
 
 I had scarcely begun my breakfast, when two men, plain in 
 dress but respectable in appearance, called on me, and one of 
 them said, in a very solemn tone, "" Pray, sir, do you know^ a 
 Mr. Elton Hamond T' — " Yes, very well." — " Was he a par- 
 ticular friend of yours % " My answ^er was, " He has destroyed 
 himself" 
 
 Rem,* — I have heretofore omitted to write of Hamond, 
 postponing till this awful catastrophe all I have to say of him. 
 He was bom in 1786, and was the eldest of two sons of a tea- 
 dealer who lived in the city. He had also sisters. His father died 
 in 1807, leaving him sole executor ; and being the eldest, — at 
 least of the sons, — and a man of imposing and ingratiating 
 manners, he was looked up to by his family. I became ac- 
 quainted with him through the Aikins, — I cannot say pre- 
 cisely when^ but soon after my return from Germany. His 
 elder sister lived many years wdth Mrs. Barbauld. When I 
 first visited him he lived in Milk Street, where his father had 
 carried on the business. Some time afterwards Hamond told 
 me that in order to set an example to the world of how a busi- 
 ness should be carried on, ajid that he might not be inter- 
 fered with in his plans, he turned off the clerks and every 
 servant in the establishment, including fhe porter, and I rath- 
 er think the cook. There could be but one result. The busi- 
 ness soon had to be given up. His perfect integrity no one 
 doubted. Indeed, his character may be regarded as almost 
 faultless, with the exception of those extravagances which may 
 not unreasonably be set down to the account of insanity. 
 When he was satisfied that he was right, he had such an over- 
 weening sense of his own judgment, that he expected every 
 one to submit to his decision ; and when this did not take 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 18* 
 
418 RExMlNlSCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chaf. 23. 
 
 place, he was apt to consider the disobedience as criminal. On 
 this account he broke off acquaintance with his family and 
 nearly all his friends. 
 
 I have only to relate some illustrations, which will be found 
 curious, of this unhappy state of mind. When he was about 
 eleven years old, he said to his sister, " Sister Harriet, w^ho is 
 the greatest man that ever lived ? " She said, " Jesus Christ." 
 He replied, '^ No bad answer, — but I shall be greater than 
 Jesus Christ." His after-misery lay in this, that while he had 
 a conviction that he was to have been, and ought to have been, 
 the greatest of men, he was conscious that in fact he was not. 
 And the reason assigned by him for putting an end to his life 
 was, that he could not condescend to live without fulfilling his 
 proper vocation. 
 
 His malady lay in a diseased endeavor to obey the injunc- 
 tion, *'Nosce teipsum." He was forever writing about him- 
 self. Hundreds of quarto pages do I possess, all full of him- 
 self and of his judgment respecting his friends. And he felt 
 it to be his duty to make his unfavorable opinion known to 
 the friends themselves, in a way which, save for the knowledge 
 of his infirmity, would have been very offensive.* 
 
 In the anxious pursuit of self-improvement, he sought the 
 acquaintance of eminent men, among whom were Jeremy 
 Bentham and his brother. General Bentham, James Mill, the 
 historian of India, and Sir Stamford Rafiles, governor of Java. 
 On Sir Stamford he made a demand of the most ridiculous 
 kind, maintaining that as Sir Stamford owed everything to 
 his father, he. Sir Stamford w^as morally bound to give Ha- 
 mond one half of what he acquired in his office as governor. 
 Sir Stamford gave him an order on his banker for <£ 1,000, 
 which Hamond disdained to take. He went to Scotland and 
 made the acquaintance of Dugald Stewart. The eminent phi- 
 losopher and professor, wisely advised him to think nothing 
 
 * As an instance of the sort of authority he assumed over his friends, I may- 
 mention that, when the reduction of the 5 per cent stock to 4^ was in con- 
 templation, I had entertained an opinion in favor of the reduction, on which 
 we had some discussion. In a few days he wrote me a letter, saying that he 
 deemed my opinion so mischievous, that, if I gave any publicity to it, he should 
 be obliged to renounce my further acquaintance. I replied that I honored the 
 firmness with which on all occasions he did what he deemed right, regardless 
 of all consequences to himself, but that he must allow me to follow his ex- 
 ample, and act on my oion sense of right, — not his; and that, in consequence, 
 I had that morning sent a letter to the Times in support of my opinion. 
 Whether the letter appeared I do not know; but, at all events, what I wrote to 
 Hamond had its just weight. He took no offence at my resistance. Nor was 
 he offended at the course I took on account of my suspicion of his intention 
 to destroy himself. 
 
1820.] ELTON HAMOND. ^^^^" 419 
 
 about himself, which poor Elton most characteristically misin- 
 terpreted. He wrote in his diary : ** I do think nothing of 
 myself, — I know that I am nothing." That this was his sin- 
 cere opinion is shown in a letter, in which, recommending his 
 own papers to Southey's careful perusal, with a view to publi- 
 cation, he says : ^* You will see in them the writings of a man 
 who was in fact nothing, but who was near becoming the 
 gi'eatest that ever lived." This was the mad thought that 
 haunted him. After he left Milk Street, he took a house at 
 Hampstead, where his younger sister lived with him. 
 
 At the time of my hrst acquaintance, or gi^ow^ing intimacy 
 with Hamond, Frederick Pollock, now the Lord Chief Baron, 
 was his friend. There was no jealousy in Hamond's nature, 
 and he loved Pollock the more as he rose in reputation. He 
 wrote in his journal : " How my heart burned when I read of 
 the high degree taken by Pollock at Cambridge ! " * 
 
 In 1818 1 visited him at Norwood, w^here I found him lodg- 
 ing in a cottage, and wath no other occupation than the dan- 
 gerous one of meditation on himself. He journalized his food, 
 his sleep, his dreams. His society consisted of little children, 
 whom he was fond of talking to. From a suspicion that had 
 forced itself on my mind, I gave him notice that if he de- 
 stroyed himself, I should consider myself released from my 
 undertaking to act as his trustee. I think it probable that 
 this caused him to live longer than he would otherwise have 
 done. It also occasioned his application to Southey to take 
 charge of his papers. One of Southey's letters to him was 
 printed in the poet's life ; unfortunately, I cannot find the 
 other, t To Anthony Robinson, to whom I had introduced 
 him, Hamond said that he was on the point of making a dis- 
 covery, which would put an end to physical and moral evil in 
 the world. 
 
 In justice to his memory, and that no one who reads this 
 may misapprehend his character, I ought not to omit adding, 
 that his overweening sense of his own powers had not the effect 
 which might have been expected on his demeanor to the w^orld 
 at large. He was habitually humble and shy, towards inferiors 
 especially. He quaiTelled once with a friend (Pollock)^ for not 
 
 * He was Senior Wrangler. 
 
 t The other has been "found among H. C. R.'s papers; and both are con- 
 tained in the Note to this chapter. 
 
 X The name has been given by Sir P'rederick Pollock himself, who has kindly 
 looked through this chapter in proof, and stated some details. The woman's 
 burden was a large tray to be carried from Blackfriars' Bridge to the Obeliskr 
 
420 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2a. 
 
 being willing to join him in carrying a heavy box through the 
 streets of London for a poor woman. His generous offer of an 
 annuity to W. Taylor,* when he was reduced in circumstances, 
 has been made known in the Life of Taylor. Reference has 
 already been made (p. 354) to his refusal of a private secre- 
 taryship to a colonial chief justice, on the ground of the ob- 
 ligation involved to tell a lie and write a lie every day, sub- 
 scribing himself the humble servant of people he did not serv6, 
 and towards whom he felt no humility. Various eligible offers 
 were made to him, but rejected for reasons which made it too 
 probable that he could be brought to consent to nothing. The 
 impractical notions he had of veracity are shown in an inscrip- 
 tion written by him for his father's tombstone. He objected to 
 the date 1 8 — , because, unless it was added, of the Christian 
 era^ no one could know in which era his father had lived. His 
 grossest absurdities, however, had often a basis of truth, which 
 it was not difficult to detect. I conclude, for the present, with 
 a sentiment that leaves an impression of kindness mingled with 
 pity : " Had I two thousand a year, I would give one half for 
 birds and flowers." 
 
 On the 4th of January the coroner's inquest w^as held ; Pol- 
 lock and I attended. We did not, however, offer ourselves as 
 witnesses, not being so ready as others were to declare our con- 
 viction that Elton Hamond was insane. To those who think, 
 this is always a difficult question, and that because the question 
 of sane or insane must always be considered with a special refer- 
 ence to the relation in which the character, as well as the act, 
 is viewed. 
 
 The neighbors very sincerely declared their belief in Hamond's 
 insanity, and related anecdotes of absurdities that would not 
 have weighed with wise men. We did not fear the result, and 
 were surprised when the coroner came to us and said : " The 
 jury say they have no doubt this poor gentleman was insane, 
 but they have heard there was a letter addressed to them, and 
 
 *' It was on a Sunday, I think, just after morning church. I offered to join in 
 paying one or two porters to help the woman, but what he insisted on was that 
 we should ourselves do it." Sir Frederick adds: " Hamond had in the highest 
 degree one mark of insanity, viz. an utter disregard of the opinion of all the rest 
 of the world on any point on which he had made up his own mind. He was 
 once on the Grand Jury at the Old Bailey, and presented as from himself alone 
 (all the rest of the jury dissenting) the manner in which the witnesses were 
 sworn. I was present, and became from that moment satisfied that he was in- 
 sane." ''Hamond's case is worth recording; it was not a commonplace 
 malady." 
 
 * Of Norwich. Vide " Memoir of William Taylor of Norwich," Vol. II. 
 p. 357. 
 
1S20.] ELTON HAMOND. 421 
 
 they insist on seeing it." On this I went into the room, and told 
 the jury that I had removed the letter, in order that they 
 should not see it, This at first seemed to offend them, but I 
 further said that I had done this without having read the 
 letter. It had been sealed and given to relations, who would 
 certainly destroy it rather than allow it to be made public. I 
 informed them of the fact that a sister of Mr. Hamond had died 
 in an asylum, and mentioned that his insanity manifested itself 
 in a morbid hostilitv towards some of his relations. I reminded 
 them of the probability that any letter of the kind, if read in 
 public, would be soon in the papers ; and I put it to them, as a 
 serious question, what their feelings would be if in a few days 
 they heard of another act of suicide. The words were scarcely 
 out of my mouth before there was a cry from several of the 
 jury, " We do not wish to see it." And ultimately the verdict 
 of insanity was recorded. The coroner supported me in my re- 
 fusal to produce the letter. 
 
 Gooch directed a cast of Hamond' s face to be taken. It was 
 one of the handsomest faces I ever saw in a cast. Afterwards 
 it was given to me, and I gave it to Hamond 's sister, Harriet. 
 The same man who took this mask, an Italian, Gravelli, took a 
 mask of a living friend, who complained of it as unsatisfactory. 
 It was, in truth, not prepossessing. The Italian pettishly said, 
 " You should be dead 1 — you should be dead ! " 
 
 SOUTHEY TO H. C. R. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I shall not easily get your letter out of my 
 thought. Some years ago I dined with E. H. at Gooch's, and 
 perfectly remember his quiet melancholy and meditative man- 
 ner. The two letters which he addressed to me respecting his 
 papers were very ably written, and excited in me a strong inter- 
 est. Of course, I had no suspicion who the writer could be ; 
 but if I had endeavored to trace him (which probably would 
 have been done had I been in town), Gooch is the person whom 
 I should have thought most likely to have helped me in the in- 
 quiry. 
 
 The school which you indicate is an unhappy one. I remem- 
 ber seeing a purblind man at Yarmouth two-and-twenty years 
 ago, who seemed to carry with him a contagion of such opinions 
 wherever he went. Perhaps you may have known him. The 
 morbific matter was continually oozing out of him, and where 
 it passes off in this way, or can be exploded in paradoxes and 
 freaks of intellect, as by William Taylor, the destructive effect 
 
422 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB IIOBINSOX. [Chap. 23. 
 
 upon the heart is lessened or postponed. But when it meets 
 with strong feeling, and an introspective introactive mind, the 
 Aqua TofFana is not more deadly. 
 
 Respecting the papers, I can only say, at present, that I will 
 do nothing with them that can be injurious either to the dead 
 or the living. When I receive any application upon the sub- 
 ject, I shall desire them to be deposited at my brother's, to 
 await my arrival in town, where 1 expect to be early in March, 
 and to continue about two months, some ten days excepted ; 
 and it is better that they should be in London, where I can 
 consult with you. You will see by the letter to me (which I 
 will take with me to town) what his wishes were. Consistently 
 with these wishes, with his honor, and wdth the feelings of his 
 friends, I hope it may be possible to record this melancholy 
 case for wholesome instruction. He says to me : '* You may 
 perhaps find an interest in making a fair statement of opinions 
 which you condemn, when quite at liberty, as you would be in 
 this case, to controvert them in the same page. I desire no 
 gilt frame for my picture, and if by the side of it you like to 
 draw another, and call mine a Satyr and your own Hyperion, 
 you are w^elcome. A true light is all that I require, — a strong 
 light all that I wish." 
 
 Having no suspicion of his intentions, I supposed him to be 
 in the last stage of some incurable disease, and addressed him 
 as one upon the brink of the grave. If one of the pencil read- 
 ings which you have transcribed were written since February 
 last, it would show that my last letter had made some impres- 
 sion upon him, for I had assured him of my belief in ghosts, 
 and rested upon it as one proof of a future state. There was 
 not the slightest indication of insanity in his annunciation to 
 me, and there was an expression of humihty, under which I 
 should never have suspected that so very different a feeling 
 was concealed. God help us ! frail creatures that we are. 
 
 As my second letter was not noticed by him, I had supposed 
 that it was received with displeasure, and perhaps with con- 
 tempt. It rather surprises me, therefore, that he should have 
 retained the intention of committing his papers to my disposal, 
 little desirous as I was of the charge. Nevertheless, I will 
 execute it faithfully ; and the best proof that I can give of a 
 proper feeling upon the subject is to do nothing without con- 
 sulting you. 
 
 Believe me, dear sir, yours with much esteem, 
 
 Robert Southey. 
 Keswick, January 20. 
 
1820.] ELTON HAMOND. 423 
 
 Southey came to me in the March of this year, when he 
 visited London. I soon satisfied him that the MSS. had no 
 literary value, and he willingly resigned them to me.* In May 
 of this year I wrote : ^' The more I read, the more I am con- 
 vinced that they contain nothing which can benefit the world- 
 They are not valuable either as works of art or as discoveries 
 of truth, t They are merely manifestations of an individual 
 mind, revealing its weaknesses." Yet I must qualify this by 
 saying that Hamond wrote with feeling, and, being in earnest, 
 there was an attractive grace in his style. But it raised au 
 expectation which he could not fulfil. Southey appears to 
 have formed a high opinion of him ; he was, however, not 
 aware that, though Hamond could write a beautiful sentence, 
 he was incapable of continuous thought. Some extracts from 
 Hamond's letters and papers I mean to annex to these Remi- 
 niscences as pieces justificatives. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 The papers now in the hands of the executors consist of, — (A), *' Life. 
 Personal Anecdotes. Indications of Character." (B), "Letters of Farewell.'* 
 (C), '' Miscellaneous Extracts." (D), '' Extracts from Journal, &c." (E), 
 *• Extracts. Scheme of Reforming the World, &c." (F), " On Education- 
 Character, &c." (G), "Ethics." Also various letters by E. H. and others. 
 Those by himself include the long one, finished only a few minutes before hi? 
 death. "^Among the letters from others to him are several by Jeremy Ben- 
 tham on business matters (1809-1819) and a larger number by Maria "^ Edge- 
 worth, on matters of personal interest, (1808-1811). As Mr. Robinson did 
 not make the extracts he proposed, the following are given as among the most 
 interesting: — 
 
 When I'was about eight or ten I promised marriage to a wrinkled cook we 
 had, aged about sixty-five. I was convinced of the insignificance of beauty, 
 but really felt some considerable ease at hearing of her death about four years 
 after, when I began to repent of my vow. 
 
 I always said that I would do anything to make another happy, and told a 
 boy I would give him a shilling if it would make him happy; he said it would, 
 so \ gave it him. It is not to be wondered at that I had plenty of such ap- 
 plications, and soon emptied my purse. It is true I rather grudged the money, 
 because the boys laughed rather more than I wished them. But it would have 
 been inconsistent to liave appeared dissatisfied. Some of them were generous 
 enough to return the money, and I was prudent enough to take it, though I 
 declared that if it would make them happy I should be sorry to have it back 
 
 * These MSS. are now in the hands of H. C. R.'s executors. An accoimt of 
 them, and some extracts, will be found in a Note to this chapter. 
 
 t The scheme for the reformation of the world seems to consist in a number 
 of moral precepts, and has in it no originality. 
 
424 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 28. 
 
 At the age of eighteen I used to amuse myself with thinking on how many 
 followers I could muster on a state emergency. I reckoned Abbot, Charles, 
 Edward Deacon, Charles Mills, H. Jeffreys, and the Millers. I was then pro- 
 fuse of my presents, and indifferent to my comforts. I was shabby in my ap- 
 pearance, loved to mix with the lowest mob, and was sometimes impatiently 
 desirous of wealth and influence. I remembered that Csesar walked careless^- 
 ly and part drunken along the streets, and I felt myself a future Csesar. The 
 decencies of life I laughed at. I was proud to recollect that I had always ex- 
 pected to be great since I was twelve years old. 
 
 1 cannot remain in society without injuring a man by the tricks of com- 
 merce, or the force which the laws of honor sometimes require. I must quit 
 it. I would rather undergo twice the danger from beasts and ten times the 
 danger from rocks. It is not pain, it is not death, that I dread, — it is the ha- 
 tred of a man; there is something in it so shocking that I would rather submit 
 to any injur V than incur or increase the hatred of a man by revenging it; and 
 indeed I think this principle is pretty general, and that, as Mr. Reynolds says : 
 " No, I don't want to fight, but it is to please Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Tomkins 
 that I must fight." 
 
 To H. C. Robinson. 
 
 Silver Street, 20 October, 1813. 
 My DEAR Robinson, — I leave you all my papers, with entire liberty to 
 
 F reserve, destroy, lend, or publish all or any of them as you please; you will, 
 know, take care that no one suffers unjustly or improperly by anything that 
 I have written about him. There are passages in some of my early journals 
 which might, I think, be injurious to my brother in a manner that he never at 
 
 all merited. Any expressions injurious to I have no wish that you 
 
 should conceal; in general, I may say that I should like everybody of whom I 
 have expressed any opinion to be acquainted with it. The chief philosophical 
 value of my papers (most of them utterly worthless in every other respect) I 
 conceive to be that they record something of a mind that was very near taking 
 a station far above all that have hitherto appeared in the world. Rely upon 
 this, I am quite certain of it, that nothing but my sister Harriet's confidence 
 and sympathy.^' and such things as are easily procured, Avas wanting to enable 
 me to*^ fulfil my early and frequent vow to be the greatest man that had ever 
 lived. I never till last May saw my course clearly, and then all that I wanted 
 to qualify me for it I was refused. I leave my skull to any craniologist that 
 you can prevail upon to keep it. Farewell! my dear friend; you have thought 
 more justly of me than anybody has ; maintain your sentiments ; once more, 
 farewell ! I embrace you with all my heart. 
 
 E. Hamond. 
 
 June 29//i, 1817. — It is provoking that the secret of rendering man perfect 
 in wisdom, power, virtue, and happiness should die with me- I never till this 
 moment doubted that some other person would discover it, but I now recollect 
 that, when I have relied on others, I have always been disappointed. Perhaps 
 none may ever discover it, and the human race has lost its only chance of eter- 
 nal happiness. 
 
 Another sufficient reason for suicide is, that I was this morning out of tem- 
 per with Mrs. Douglas (for no fault of hers). I did not betray myself in the 
 
 * She would have been willing to devote her life to him, but he required that 
 she should implicitly adopt his opinions. — H. C. R. 
 
1820.] ELTON HAMOND. 425 
 
 least, but 1 reflected that to be exposed to the possibility of such an event once 
 a year was evil enough to render life intolerable. The disgrace of using an 
 impatient word is to me overpowering. • 
 
 A most sufficient reason for dying is, that if I had to write to Sir John Lub- 
 bock or Mr. Davey, I should be obliged to begin "Dear Sir," or else be very 
 uncomfortable about the consequences. I am obliged to compromise with 
 vice. At present (this is another matter), I must either become less sensible to 
 the odiousness of vice, or be entirely unfit for all the active duties of life. Re- 
 ligion does but imperfectly help a man out of this dilemma. 
 
 SouTHEY TO Elton Hamond. 
 
 Keswick, 5 February, 1819. 
 
 Sir, — I lose no time in replying to your extraordinary letter. If, as you say, 
 the language of your papers would require to be recast, it is altogether impossi- 
 ble for me to afford time for such an undertaking. But the style of your letter 
 leads me to distrust your opinion upon this point ; and if the papers are writ- 
 ten with equal perspicuity, any change which they might undergo from another 
 hand would be to their injury. It appears, therefore, to me that they would 
 only require selection and arrangement. 
 
 Nov/, sir, it so happens that I have works in preparation of great magnitude, 
 and (unless I deceive myself) of proportionate importance. And there must 
 be many persons capable of preparing your manuscripts for the press, who 
 have time to spare, and would be happy in obtaining such an employment. 
 There may possibly also be another reason why another person may better be 
 applied to' on this occasion. The difference between your opinions and mine 
 might be so great, that I could not with satisfaction or propriety become the 
 means of introducing yours to the public. This would be the case if your rea- 
 sonings tended to confound the distinctions between right and wrong, or to 
 shake the foundations of religious belief. And yet I think that if there had 
 been a great gulf between us you would hardly have thought of making me 
 your editor. Indeed, if there had not been something in your letter which 
 seems to make it probable that I should feel a lively interest in the transcript 
 of your thoughts and feelings, my answer would have been brief and decisive. 
 
 i should like to see a specimen ot the papers, such as might enable me to 
 form a judgment of them; more than this I cannot say at present, I cannot 
 but admire the temper of your letter. You are looking wisely and calmly to- 
 ward the grave; allow me to add a fervent hope that you may also be looking 
 with confidence and joy beyond it. 
 
 Believe me, sir, 
 
 Yours with respect, 
 
 Robert Southey. 
 
 SouTHEY to Elton Hamond. 
 
 Keswick, 2 March, 1819. 
 Your letter, my dear sir, affects me greatly. It represents a state of mind 
 into which I also should have fallen had it not been for that support which you 
 are not disposed to think necessary for the soul of man. I, too, identified 'my 
 own hopes with hopes for mankind, and at the price of any self-sacrifice would 
 have promoted the good of my fellow-creatures. I, too, have been disappointed, 
 in being undeceived; but having learnt to temper hope with patience, and when 
 I lift up my spirit to its Creator and Redeemer, to say, not with the lips alone 
 but with the heart. Thy will be done, I feel that whatever afflictions I have 
 endured have been dispensed to me in mercy, and am deeply and devoutly 
 thankful for what I am, and what I am to be when I shall burst my shell. 
 
426 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 23. 
 
 sir ! religion is the one thing needful, — without it no one can be truly 
 happy : (do you not feel this ?) with it no one can be entirely miserable. Witli- 
 out it, this world would be a mystei^ too dreadful to be borne, our best affec- 
 tions and our noblest desires a mere juggle and a curse, and it were better, 
 indeed, to be nothing than the things we are. I am no bigot. I believe that 
 men will be judged by their actions and intentions, not their creeds. I am a 
 Christian, and so will Turk, Jew, and Gentile be in heaven, if they have lived 
 well according to the light which was vouchsafed them. I do not fear that 
 there will be a great gulf between you and me in the world which we must 
 both enter : but if I could persuade you to look on towards that world with the 
 eyes of faith, a change would be operated in all your views and feelings, and 
 hope and joy and love would be with you to your last breath, — universal love, 
 — love for mankind, and for the Universal Father into whose hands you are 
 about to render up your spirit. 
 
 That the natural' world by its perfect order displays evident marks of design, 
 I think you would readily admit ; for it is so palpable, that it can only be dis- 
 puted from perverseness or affectation. Is it not reasonable to suppose that 
 the moral order of things should in like manner be coherent and harmonious ? 
 It is so, if there be a state of retribution after death. If that be granted, every- 
 thing becomes intelligible, just, beautiful, and good. Would you not, from the 
 sense of fitness and of justice, wish that it should be so? "And is there not 
 enough of wisdom and of power apparent in the creation to authorize us in in- 
 ferring, that whatever upon the grand scale would be best, therefore must be ? 
 Pursue this feeling, and it will lead you to the Cross of Christ. 
 
 1 never fear to avow my belief that warnings from the other world are some- 
 times communicated to us in this, and that absurd as the stories of appa- 
 ritions generally are, they are not always false, but that the spirits of the dead 
 have sometimes been permitted to appear. I believe this because I cannot 
 refuse my assent to the evidence which exists of such things, and to the uni- 
 versal consent of all men who have not learnt to think otherwise. Perhaps 
 you will not despise this as a mere superstition when I say that Kant, the 
 profoundest thinker of modem ages, came by the severest "reasoning to the 
 same conclusion. But if these things are, there is a state after death ; and if 
 there be a state after death, it is reasonable to presume that such things should 
 be. 
 
 You will receive this as it is meant. It is hastily and earnestly written, ^ 
 in perfect sincerity, — in the fulness of my heart. Would to God that it might 
 find the way to yours ! In case of your recovery, it would reconcile you to 
 life, and open to you sources of happiness to which you are a stranger. 
 But whether your lot be for life or death, — dear sir, — 
 
 God bless you ! 
 
 Robert Southey. 
 
 To Joseph . 
 
 Norwood, 31st December, 7 o'clock, 1819. 
 
 My dear Joseph, — I fear that my latQ letters have offended and perplexed 
 you; but I am convinced you will forgive all that you have thought amiss in 
 them, and in the author of them, when you are told that he is --don't be 
 shocked, my dear Joseph — no more. I ani somewhat disturbed, while I think 
 of the pain which this may give you, as I shed tears over my poverty when I 
 saw Pollock cry about it, although it was not, neither is the present moment, 
 painful to me.*^ I have enjoyed my dinner, and been saying " good by " to 
 my poor acquaintance as I met them, and running along by moonlight to put 
 a letter in the post-office, and shall be comfortable — not to say merry — to 
 the last, if I don't oppress myself with farewell letters, of which I have sev- 
 eral still to write. I have much indeed to be grateful to you for, but I dare 
 not give way to tender feelings. 
 
 Your letters, as you know, will be offered to Southey, with all my other pa- 
 pers, to do the best he can and chooses with 
 
 Good by to you ! 
 
 E. H. 
 
182D.] ELTON HAMOND. 427 
 
 To H. C. R , UNDER THE NaME OF ROVISO. 
 
 NoKwooD, 31 December, 1819 (8 o'clock in the evening). 
 
 Dear Roviso, — I am stupefied with writing, and yet I cannot go my long 
 journey without taking leave of one from whom I have received so much kind- 
 ness, and from whose society so much delight. My place is booked for a 
 passage in Charon's boat to-night at twelve. Diana kindly consents to be of 
 the party. This is handsome of her. She was not looked for on my part. 
 Perhaps she is willing to acknowledge my obedience to her laws by a genteel 
 compliment. Good. The gods, then, are grateful. Let me imitate their ex- 
 ample, and thank you for the long, long list of kind actions that I know of, 
 and many more which I don't know of, but believe without knowing. 
 
 Go on, — be as merry as you can. If you can be religious, good; but don't 
 sink the man in the Christian. Bear in'mind what you know to be the just 
 rights of a fellow-creature, and don't play the courtier by sacrificing your fel- 
 low-subjects to the imaginary King of heaven and earth. I say imaginary, — 
 because he is known only by the imagination. He may have a real existence. 
 I would rather he had. I have very little hopes of my own future fate, but I 
 have less fear. In truth, I give myself no concern about it, — whv should I ? 
 why fumble all through the dictionary for a word that is not there i^ 
 
 But I have some more good-bys to say. 
 
 I have left a speech for the gentlemen of the inquest. Perhaps the driver of 
 the coach may be able to tell you what is going on. On Monday my landlord, 
 Mr. Williams,"^ of the Secretary's Office, E. I. House, will probably be in town 
 at a little after nine. Mind you don't get yourself into a scrape by making an 
 over-zealous speech if you attend as my counsel. You may say throughout, 
 " The culprit's defence is this." Bear in mind, that I had rather be thrown in 
 a ditch than have a disingenuous defence made. 
 
 I take the liberty of troubling you with the enclosed. The request it con- 
 tains is the last trouble I shall ask of you. Once more, good by ! 
 
 Yours gratefully and affectionately,' 
 
 Elton Hamond. 
 
 To THE Coroner and the Gentlemen who will sit on my Body. 
 
 Norwood, 31st December, 1819. 
 
 Gentlemen, — To the charge of self-murder I plead not guilty. F%r there 
 is no guilt in what I have done. Self-murder is a contradiction in terms. If 
 the king who retires from his throne is guilty of high treason ; if the man who 
 takes money out of his own coffers and spends it is a thief; if he who bums 
 his own hayrick is guilty of arson ; or he who scourges himself of assault and 
 battery, then he who throws up his own life may be guilty of murder, — if not, 
 not. 
 
 If anything is a man's own, it is surely his life. Far, however, be it from me 
 to say that a man may do as he pleases'with his own. Of all that he has he is 
 a steward. Kingdoms, money, harvests, are held in trust, and so, but I think 
 less strictly, is life itself. Life is rather the stewardship than the talent. The 
 king who resigns his crown to one less fit to rule is guilty, though not of high 
 treason; the spendthrift is guilty, though not of theft; the wanton burner of 
 his hayrick is guilty, though not of arson; the suicide who could have per- 
 formed the duties of his station is perhaps guilty, though not of murder, not of 
 felony. They are all guilty of neglect of duty,'^and all, except the suicide, of 
 breach of trust. But 1 cannot perform the' duties of my station. He who 
 wastes his life in idleness is guilty of a breach of tiiist; he who puts an end 
 to it resigns his trust, —a trust that was forced upon him, — a trust which I 
 never accepted, and probably never would have accepted. Is this felony? I 
 smile at the ridiculous supposition. How we came by the foolish law which 
 considers suicide as felony I don't know; I find no warrant for it in Philoso- 
 phy or Scripture. It is worthy of the times when heresy and apostacy we^e 
 capital offences; when ofiencee were tried by battle, oraeal, or expurgation: 
 
428 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 when the fine for slaying a man was so many shillings, and that for slaying an 
 ass a few more or less. 
 
 Every old institution will find its vindicators while it remains in practice. 
 I am an enemy to all hasty reform, but so foolish a law as this should be put 
 an end to. Does it become a jury to disregard it ? For juries to disregard their 
 oaths for the sake of justice is, as you probably know, a frequent practice. 
 The law places them sometimes in the cruel predicament of having to choose 
 between perjury and injustice: whether they do right to prefer perjury, as the 
 less evil, I am not sure. I would rather be thrown naked into a hole in the road 
 than that you should act against your consciences. But if you wish to acquit 
 me, I cannot see that your calling my death accidental, or the effect of insanity, 
 would be less criminal than a jury's finding a £ 10 Bank-of-England note worth 
 thirty-nine shillings, or premeditated slaying in a duel simple manslaughter, 
 both of which have been done. But should you think this too bold a course, 
 is it less bold to find me guilty of being felo de se when I am not guilty at all, as 
 there is no guilt in what I have done ? I disdain to take advantage of my situa- 
 tion as culprit to mislead your understandings, but if you, in your consciences, 
 think premeditated suicide no felony, will you, upon" your oaths, convict me 
 of felony? Let me suggest the following verdict, as combining liberal truth 
 with justice: " Died by his own hand, but not feloniously." If I have off'end- 
 ed God, it is for God, not you, to inquire. Especial public duties I have none. 
 If I have deserted any engagement in society, let the parties aggrieved consign 
 my name to obloquy. I have for nearly seven years been disentangling myself 
 from all my engagements, that I might at last be free to retire from life. 1 am 
 free to-day, and avail myself of my liberty. I cannot be a good man, and 
 prefer death to being a ba^d one, — as bad as I have been and as others are. 
 
 I take my leave of you and of my country condemning you all, yet with true 
 honest love^ What man, alive to virtue, can bear the ways of the' best of you ? 
 Not I, you are wrong altogether. If a new and better light appears, seek it; 
 
 in the mean time, look out for it. God bless you all ! 
 
 Elton Hamond. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 FEBRUARY 6th. — Mrs. Flaxman died. A woman of 
 great merit, and an irreparable loss to her husband. 
 He, a genius of the first rank, is a very child in the concerns 
 of life. She was a woman of strong sense, and a woman of 
 business too, — the very wife for an artist. Without her, he 
 would not have been able to manage his household affairs 
 early in life. JVoiv, his sister and the youngest sister of his 
 wife will do this for him. 
 
 Fehmiary 19th. — Went to Drury Lane for the first time 
 this season. I was better pleased than usual. Though Bra- 
 ham is growing old, he has lost none of his fascination in sing- 
 ing two or three magnificent songs in " The Siege of Belgrade." 
 But he shared my admiration with a new actress, or rather 
 singer, who will become, I have no doubt, a great favorite with 
 the public, — a Madame Vestris. She is by.bix-th English, 
 
I HP 
 
 |& 1820.] 
 1^^ J u 
 
 FLAXMAN. — MADAiME DE STAEL. 429 
 
 and her articulation is not that of a foreigner ; but her looks, 
 walk, and gesticulations are so very French, that I almost 
 thought myself in some Parisian theatre. She has great feel- 
 ing and naivete in her acting, and I am told is a capital singer. 
 I know that she delighted me. 
 
 March Jfih, — Took tea at Flaxman's. I had not seen him 
 since his loss. There was an unusual tenderness in his man- 
 ner. He insisted on making me a present of several books, 
 Dante's Penitential Psalms and [a blank in the Diary], both 
 in Italian, and Erasmus's Dialogues, as if he thought he might 
 be suddenly taken away, and washed me to have some memo- 
 rial of him. The visit, on the whole, was a comfortable one. 
 I then sat an hour with Miss Vardill, who related an interest- 
 ing anecdote of Madame de Stael. A country girl, the daugh- 
 ter of a clergyman, had accidentally met with an English 
 translation of '' Delphine " and '' Corinne," which so powerful- 
 ly affected her in her secluded life as quite to turn her brain. 
 And hearing that Madame de Stael was in London, she wrote 
 to her, offering to become her attendant or amanuensis. Ma- 
 dame de Stael's secretary, in a formal answer, declined the 
 proposal. But her admirer was so intent on being in her ser- 
 vice in some way, that she came iip to London, and stayed a 
 few days with a friend, who took her to the great novelist, and, 
 speaking in French, gave a hint of the young girl's mind. 
 Madame de Stael, with great promptitude and kindness, ad- 
 ministered the only remedy that was likely to be effectual. 
 The girl almost threw herself at her feet, and earnestly begged 
 to be received by her. The Baroness very kindly, but deci- 
 dedly, remonstrated with her on the folly of her desire. " You 
 may think," she said, "it is an enviable lot to travel over Eu- 
 rope, and see all that is most beautiful and distinguished in 
 the world ; but the joys of home are more solid ; domestic 
 life affords more permanent happiness than any that fame can 
 giv«. You have a father, — I have none. You have a home, 
 — I was led to travel because I was driven from mine. Be 
 content with your lot ; if you knew mine, you would not de- 
 sire it." With such admonitions she dismissed the petitioner. 
 The cure was complete. The young woman returned to her 
 father, became more steadily industrious, and without ever 
 speaking of her adventure with Madame de Stael, silently 
 profited by it. She is now living a life of great respectability, 
 and her friends consider that her cure was wrought by the 
 only hand by which it could have been effected. 
 
430 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 March 7th. — Dined with the Judge f Graham). Among the 
 most eminent judges of the last generation was Mr. Justice 
 Buller. He and Baron Graham were of the same standing at 
 College. Graham said to-daj, that though Buller was a great 
 lawyer, he was ignorant on every subject but law. He actu- 
 ally believed in the obsolete theory that our earth is the centre 
 of the universe. 
 
 April 7th. — Arrived at Bury before tea. My brother and 
 sister were going to hear an astronomical lecture. I stayed 
 alone and read a chapter in Gibbon on the early history of the 
 Germans. Having previously read the first two lectures of 
 Schlegel, I had the pleasure of comparison, and I found much 
 in Gibbon that I had thought original in Schlegel. Their 
 views differ slightly ; for the most part in the higher character 
 given by Schlegel to the Germans, the correctness of which I 
 had doubted. It seems absurd to ascribe great effects to the 
 enthusiastic love of nature by a people otherwise so low in 
 civilization. But probably he is justified in the opinion that 
 the Goths were to no great degree the bringers of barbarism. 
 He considers them the great agents in the renovation of so- 
 ciety. 
 
 April 26th. — An invitation from Aders to join him in one 
 of the orchestra private boxes at Drury Lane. There was 
 novelty in the situation. The ease and comfort of being able 
 to stand, sit, or loll, have rather the effect of indisposing the 
 mind to that close attention to the performance which is neces- 
 sary to full enjoyment. Kean delighted me much in Lear, 
 though the critics are not satisfied with him. His representa- 
 tion of imbecile age was admirable. In the famous imprecation 
 scene he produced astonishing effect by his manner of bringing 
 out the words with the effort of a man nearly exhausted and 
 breathless, rather spelling his syllables than forming them into 
 words. " How sharp-er-than-a-serp-ent's-tooth-it-is," &c., &c. 
 His exhibition of madness was always exquisite. Kean's de- 
 fects are lost in this character, and become almost virtues. He 
 does not need vigor or grace as Lear, but passion, — and this 
 never fails him. The play was tolerably cast. Mrs. W. West 
 is an interesting Cordelia, though a moderate actress. And Rae 
 is a respectable Edgar. I alone remained of the party to see 
 "The King and the Miller (of Mansfield)." But I heard 
 scarcely any part, for the health of the King being drunk, a 
 fellow cried out from the shilling gallery, *'The Queen!" 
 The allusion was caught up, and not a word was heard after- 
 
1820.] WORDSWORTH. — PORTRAIT EXHlBmON. 431 
 
 wards. The cries for the health of the Queen were uttered 
 from all quarters, and as this demand could not be complied 
 with, not a syllable more of the farce was audible. 
 
 June 2d. — At nine I went to Lamb's, where I found Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wordsworth. Lamb was in a good humor. He read some 
 recent compositions, which Wordsworth cordially praised. 
 Wordsworth seemed to enjoy Lamb's society. Not much was 
 said about his own new volume of poems. He himself spoke 
 of " The Brownie's Cell " * as his favorite. It appears that he 
 had heard of a recluse living on the island when there himself, 
 and afterwards of his being gone, no one knew whither, and that 
 this is the fact on which the poem is founded. 
 
 June 11th. — Breakfasted with Monkhouse. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wordsworth there. He has resolved to make some concessions 
 to public taste in '^ Peter Bell." Several offensive passages will 
 be struck out, such as, '^ Is it a party in a parlor," &c., which I 
 implored him to omit before the book first appeared. Also the 
 over-coarse expressions, '^ But I will bang your bones," &c. I 
 never before saw him so ready to yield to the opinion of others. 
 He is improved not a little by this in my mind. W^e talked of 
 Haydon. Wordsworth wants to have a large sum raised to en- 
 able Haydon to continue in his profession. He wants £ 2,000 
 for his great picture. The gToss produce of the exhibition is 
 £l,200.t 
 
 Jmie 19th. — Went to the British Gallery, where a collection 
 of English portraits was exhibited. % Very interesting, both as 
 
 * Vol. III. p. 44. Edition 1857. 
 
 t Haydon exhibited his great picture of " Christ's Entry into Jeitisalem " at 
 the Egyptian Hall, in Piccadilly. It was opened to the"' public March 27th. 
 Wordsworth's face was introduced, " A Bowing Head " ; also "Newton's Face 
 of Belief," and " Voltaire's Sneer." The exhibition continued open till 
 November, by which time jG 1,547 8 s. had been received in shillings at the 
 doors, and £212 19 s. 6cZ. paid for sixpenny catalogues. The picture is now in 
 America. During the exhibition in London a gentleman asked if £ 1,000 would 
 buy it, and was told, " No." — Autobiography of Haydon^ Vol. I. p. 337. 
 
 f This very interesting exhibition, and the' first of its kind, was opened in 
 May of this year at the British Institution, Pall Mall. It comprised 183 
 portraits of the most eminent historical characters, almost entirely British, and 
 the catalogue, Avith a well-considered preface, contained biographical accounts 
 of the persons represented. In the year 1846 another portrait exhibition was 
 held at the same institution, but not with commensurate success. The pictures 
 then amounted to 215 in number, and the catalogue was destitute of biograph^ 
 ical notices. A more extensive and extremely well-organized collection of 
 national portraits formed part of the great Art-Treasures Exhibition at Man- 
 chester in 1857. These, exclusive of manv choice portraits in other depart- 
 ments of the Exhibition, amounted to 386. " Many of these paintings were of, 
 considerable size. These portrait gatherings have; however, been far dis- 
 tanced by the successive exhibitions of national portraits, under government 
 auspices, at South Kensington, which extended over the last three years, and 
 
432 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 works of art and as memorials of eminent persons. Certainly 
 such a gallery is calculated to raise a passion for biography, 
 though some of the portraits rather tend to produce historical 
 scepticism than to confirm the impressions which have been 
 handed down to us. I was really displeased to see the name 
 of the hated Jeffreys put to a dignified and sweet countenance, 
 that might have confeiTed new grace on some delightful charac- 
 ter. This, however, was the most offensive violation of prob- 
 ability. 
 
 June 21st, — After taking tea at home I called at Monk- 
 house's, and spent an agreeable evening. Wordsworth was 
 very pleasant. Indeed he is uniformly so now. And there is 
 absolutely no pretence for what was always an exaggerated 
 charge against him, that he could talk only of his own poetry, 
 and loves only his own works. He is more indulgent than he 
 used to be of the works of others, even contemporaries and 
 rivals, and is more open to arguments in favor of changes in 
 his own poems. Lamb was in excellent spirits. Talfourd 
 came in late, and w^e stayed till past twelve. Lamb was at 
 last rather overcome, though it produced nothing but humor- 
 ous expressions of his desire to go on the Continent. I should 
 delight to accompany him. 
 
 June 2Jf.ih, — Took Miss Wordsworth to the British Gallery. 
 A second contemplation of these historic portraits certainly adds 
 to their effect. To-day there was an incident which somewhat 
 gratified me. The Duke of Wellington was there, and I saw 
 him looking at the portrait of the Duke of Marlborough. A 
 lady was by his side. She pointed to the picture, and he 
 smiled. Whether the compliment was to his person or to his 
 military glory I cannot tell. Though Marlborough has the 
 reputation of having been as distinguished in the ball-room as 
 in the field of battle, the portrait is neither beautiful nor in- 
 teresting. The Duke of Wellington's face is not flexible or 
 subtle, but it is martial, that is, sturdy and firm. I liked him 
 in dishabille better than in his robes at the chapel of his palace 
 in the Rue St. Honore. 
 
 June 27th. — Went to Lamb's, found the Wordsworths there, 
 and having walked with them to Westminster Bridge, returned 
 
 combined in the aggregate no fewer than 2,846 pictures. The greater part of 
 these portraits were of the highest authenticity, and the catalogues were re- 
 markable both for the conciseness and comprehensiveness of the information 
 which they afforded. Mr. Robinson's words in the text above have been 
 signally verified. The portrait of Lord Chancellor Jeffreys was painted by 
 Riley, and contributed by the Earl of Winchelsea. That*^ of John, Duke of 
 Marlborough, was by Kneller, and contributed by the Marquis of Stafford. 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 433 
 
 to Lamb's, and sat an hour with Macready, a very pleasing man, 
 gentlemanly in his manners, and sensible and well informed. 
 
 Jidy 8th. — I rode early (from Hadleigh) to Needham in a 
 post-cliaise, to be taken on by the Ipswich coach to Bury. I 
 had an agreeable ride, and was amused by perusing Gray's 
 letters on the Continent, published by Mason.* His familiar 
 epistolary style is quite delightful, and his taste delicate with- 
 out being fastidious. I should gladly follow him anywhere, for 
 the sake of remarking the objects he was struck by, but I fear 
 I shall not have it in my power this year. 
 
 July 18tJu — (At Cambridge on circuit.) After a day's 
 work at Huntingdon, I had just settled for the evening, when 
 I was agreeably surprised by a call from Miss Lamb. I w^as 
 heartily glad to see her, and, accompanying her to her brother's 
 lodgings, I had a very pleasant rubber of whist with them and 
 a Mrs. Smith. An acceptable relief from circuit society. 
 
 July 20th, — I had nothing to do to-day, and therefore had 
 leisure to accompany Lamb and his sister on a walk behind 
 the colleges. All Lamb's enjoyments are so pure and so hearty, 
 that it is an enjoyment to see him enjoy. We walked about 
 the exquisite chapel and the gardens of Trinity. 
 
 July Slst^ August 1st — It is now broad daylight, and I 
 have not been to bed. I recollected Lord Bacon's recommen- 
 dation of occasional deviation from regular habits, and though 
 I feel myself very tired (after making preparations for my jour- 
 ney on the Continent), and even sleepy at half past four, yet I 
 shall recover, I trust, in the course of the day. 
 
 Swiss Tour with the Wordsworths. 
 
 Bem.f — This account of my first tour in Switzerland may 
 not improperly be compared to the often-cited performance of 
 " Hamlet," with the character of Hamlet left out. The fact 
 being that every place in Switzerland is known to every one, 
 or may be, from the innumerable books that have been pub- 
 lished, the names are sufficient, and I shall therefore content 
 myself with relating the few personal incidents of the journey, 
 and a very few particulars about places. What I have to say 
 will probably disappoint the reader, who may be aware that 
 the journey was made in the company of no less a person than 
 
 * " Works, containing his Poems and Correspondence. To which are added, 
 Memoirs of his Life and Writings, by W. Mason, M. A." London, 1807. A 
 new edition in 1820. 
 
 t Written in 1851- 
 
 VOL. I. 19 BB 
 
434 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 the poet Wordsworth. [If there are fewer of Wordsworth's 
 observations than might be expected, the clew may perhaps be 
 in the fact stated elsewhere, that " he was a still man when he 
 enjoyed himself .''^ — Ed.] 
 
 He came to London with Mrs. and Miss Wordsworth in the 
 month of June, partly to be present at the marriage of Mrs. 
 Wordsworth's kinsman, Mr. Monkhouse, with Miss Horrocks, 
 of Preston, in Lancashire, and to accompany them in a mar- 
 riage tour. I was very much gratified by a proposal to be their 
 companion on as much of the journey as my circuit would 
 permit. It was a part of their plan to go by way of the 
 Rhine, and it was calculated (justly, as the event showed) 
 that I might, by hastening through France, reach them in 
 time to see with them a large portion of the beauties of Swit- 
 zerland. 
 
 Mr. Wordsworth published on his return a small volume, 
 entitled " Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, " one of the 
 least popular of his works. Had it appeared twenty years 
 afterwards, when his fame was established, the reception would 
 have been very different. 
 
 I left London on the 1st of August, and reached Lyons on 
 the 9th. On the journey I had an agreeable companion in a 
 young Quaker, Walduck, then in the employ of the great 
 Quaker chemist, Bell, of Oxford Street. It was his first journey 
 out of England. He had a pleasing physiognomy, and was 
 stanch to his principles, but discriminating. Walking together 
 in one of the principal streets of Lyons, we met the Host, with 
 an accompanying crowd. " You must pull off" your hat, Wal- 
 duck." — "I will die first !" he exclaimed. As I saw some low 
 fellows scowling, and did not wish to behold an act of martyr- 
 dom, / pulled off his hat. Afterwards, passing by the cathe- 
 dral, I said to him : " I must leave you here, for I won't go in 
 to be insulted." He followed me with his hat off. " I thought 
 you would die first ! " — "0 no ; here *I have no business or 
 right to be. If the owners of this building choose to make a 
 foolish rule that no one shall enter with his hat, they do what 
 they have a legal right to do, and I must submit to their terms. 
 Not so in the broad highway." The reasoning was not good, 
 but one is not critical when the conclusion is the right one 
 practically. Passing the night of the 10th on the road, we 
 reached Geneva late on the 11th. On the 13th we went to 
 Lausanne, where Walduck left me. On the 14th I went to 
 Berne. I rose before five, and saw the greater part of the 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 435 
 
 town before breakfast. It is one of the most singular places 
 I ever saw. It stands on a sort of peninsular elevation formed 
 by the River Aare, and consists of two or three long streets, 
 with a few others intersecting them. The houses are of free- 
 stone, and are built in part on arches, under which there is a 
 broad passage, with shops within. No place, therefore, can 
 be cooler in summer or warmer in winter. In the middle 
 of the streets there is a channel with a rapid stream of 
 water. 
 
 About the town there are foimtains in abundance, crowned 
 with statues of armed men, Swiss heroes. And there are gross 
 and whimsical representations of bears* on several of the 
 public buildings. Two living bears are kept in a part of the 
 fosse of the town. I walked to the Enge Terrace, from which 
 the view of the Bernese Alps is particularly fine. The people 
 are as picturesque as the place. The women wear black caps, 
 fitting the head closely, with prodigious black gauze wings : 
 Miss Wordsworth calls it the butterfly cap. In general, I 
 experienced civility enough from the people I spoke to, but one 
 woman, carrying a burden on her head, said sharply, on my 
 asking the way, ^' Ich kann kein Welsch " (I can't speak any 
 foreign language). And on my pressing the question, being 
 curious to see more of her, and at last saying, ^^ Sie ist 
 dumm" (She is stupid), she screamed out, ^' Fort, fort" (Go 
 along). 
 
 On the 15th I went to Solothurn, and an acquaintance began 
 out of which a catastrophe sprang. In the stage between 
 Berne and Solothurn, which takes a circuit through an unpic- 
 turesque, flat country, were two very interesting young men, 
 who I soon learned were residing with a Protestant clergyman 
 at Geneva, and completing their education. The elder was an 
 American, aged twenty-one, named Goddard. He had a sickly 
 air, but was intelligent, and not ill-read in English poetry. The 
 other was a fine handsome lad, aged sixteen, of the name of 
 Trotter, son of the then, or late. Secretary to the Admiralty. 
 He was of Scotch descent. They were both genteel and well- 
 behaved young men, with the grace communicated by living in 
 good company. We became at once acquainted, — I being 
 then, as now, young in the facility of forming acquaintance. 
 We spent a very agreeable day and evening together, partly in 
 a walk to a hermitage in the neighborhood, and took leave of 
 each other at night, — I being bound for Lucerne, they for 
 
 * Tho arms of the town. 
 
. -ioG RExMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24 
 
 Zurich. But in the morning I saw, to my surprise, my young 
 friends with their knapsacks in their hands ready to accompany 
 me. Goddard said, with a very amiable modesty : "If you 
 will permit us, we wish to go with you. I am an admirer of 
 Wordsworth's poems, and I should be delighted merely to see 
 him. Of course I expect no more." I was gratified by this 
 proposal, and we had a second day of enjoyment, and this 
 through a very beautiful country. My expectations were not 
 disappointed. I had heard of the Wordsworth party from travel- 
 lers with whom we met. I found my friends at the Cheval 
 Blanc. From them I had a most cordial reception, and I was 
 myself in high spirits. Mrs. Wordsworth wrote in her journal : 
 " H. C. R. was drunk with pleasure, and made us drunk too." 
 My companions also were kindly received. 
 
 I found that there was especial good luck attending my ar^ 
 rival. Wordsworth had met with an impudent fellow, a guide, 
 who, because he would not submit to extortion, had gone off 
 with the ladies' cloaks to Sarnen. Now it so happened that 
 one of our fellow-travellers this day was the Statthalter of 
 Sarnen. I spoke to him before we w^ent to bed, and we ar- 
 ranged to go to Sarnen the next day. We rose at four o'clock, 
 had a delightful walk to Winkel, embarked there on the lake, 
 sailed to Alpnach, and then proceeded on foot. The judge 
 was not betrayed into any impropriety. He had heard Mr. 
 Wordsworth's story, and on going to the inn, he, without suf- 
 fering Mr. Wordsworth to say a word, most judiciously inter- 
 rogated the landlord, who was present when the bargain was 
 made. He confirmed every part of Mr. Wordsworth's state- 
 ment. On this, the Statthalter said : " I hear the man has not 
 returned, a fact which shows that he is in the wrong. I know 
 him to be a bad fellow. He will be home this evening, you 
 may rely on it, and you shall have the cloaks to-morrow." 
 Next day the man came, and was very humble. 
 
 Wordsworth and I returned to dinner, and found my young 
 friends already in great favor with the ladies. After dinner 
 we walked through the town, which has no other remarkable 
 feature than the body of water flowing through it, and the sev- 
 eral covered wooden bridges. In the angles of the roof of 
 these bridges there are paintings on historical and allegorical 
 subjects. One series from the Bible, another from the Swiss 
 war against Austria, a third called the Dance of Death. The 
 last is improperly called, for Death does not force his partner 
 to an involuntary waltz, as in the famous designs which go by 
 
1820.J SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 437 
 
 Holbein's name, but appears in all the pictures an unwelcome 
 visitor. There are feeling and truth in many of the concep- 
 tions, but the expression is too often ludicrous, and too often 
 coarsely didactic* 
 
 August 18th. — Proceeded on our journey. I purchased a 
 knapsack, and sent my portmanteau to Geneva. All the party 
 were, in like manner, put on short commons as to luggage, and 
 our. plan of travelling was this : in the plains and level valleys 
 we had a char-a-banc, and we walked up and down the moun- 
 tains. Once only we hired mules, and these the guides only 
 used. Our luggage was so small, even for five (Mrs. Monk- 
 house and Miss Horrocks did not travel about with the rest of 
 the party), that a single guide could carry the w^hole. 
 
 We sailed on the lake as far as KUsnacht, the two young 
 men being still our companions ; and between two and thi^ee 
 we began to ascend the Righi, an indispensable achievement in a 
 Swiss tour. We engaged beds at the Staff'el, and went on to 
 see the sun set, but we were not fortunate in the weather. 
 Once or twice there were gleams of light on some of the lakes, 
 but there was little charm of coloring. After an early and 
 comfortable supper we enjoyed the distant lightning ; but it 
 soon became verv severe, and some of the rooms of the hotel 
 were flooded with rain. Our rest was disturbed by a noisy 
 party, who, unable to obtain beds for themselves, resolved that 
 no one else should enjoy his. The whole night was spent by 
 them in an incessant din of laughing, singing, and shouting. 
 We were called up between three and four a. m., but had a 
 very imperfect view from this " dread summit of the Queen of 
 Mountains," — Regina montium. The most beautiful part of 
 the scene was that which arose from the clouds below us. 
 They rose in succession, sometimes concealing the country, and 
 then opening to our view dark lakes, and gleams of very bril- 
 liant green. They sometimes descended as if into an abyss 
 beneath us. We saw a few of the snow-mountains illuminated 
 by the first rays of the sun. 
 
 My journal simply says : " After breakfast our young gen- 
 tlemen left us." I afterwards wrote: " We separated at a spot 
 w^ell suited to the parting of those who were to meet no more. 
 Our party descended through the valley of our ' Lady of the 
 
 * The XXX VIU. Poem of the " Memorials " was written while the work was 
 in the press, and at H. C. R.'s sugojestion that Mr. Wordsworth should write on 
 the bridges at Lucerne. This will appear m a letter by Miss Wordsworth in 
 1822. 
 
438 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 Snow/ and our late companions went to Arth. We hoped to 
 meet in a few weeks at Geneva." 
 
 I will leave the order of time, and relate now all that ap* 
 pertains to this sad history. The young men gave us their 
 address, and we promised to inform them when we should be 
 at Geneva, on our return. But on that return we found that 
 poor Goddard had perished in the lake of Zurich, on the third 
 day after our leave-taking on the Itigi. 
 
 I heard the story from Trotter on the 23d of September. 
 They had put themselves in a crazy boat ; and, a storm arising, 
 the boat overset. It righted itself, but to no purpose. Trot- 
 ter swam to the shore, but Goddard was not seen again. 
 Trotter was most hospitably received by a Mr. Keller, near 
 whose house the catastrophe took place. The body was cast 
 ashore next day, and afterwards interred in the neighbormg 
 churchyard of Kiisnacht. An inscription was placed near the 
 spot where the body was foimd, and a mural monument erected 
 in the church. At the funeral a pathetic address was delivered 
 by the Protestant clergyman, w^hich I read in the ZUrich pa- 
 per. We were all deeply impressed by the event. Words- 
 worth, I knew, was not fond of drawing the subjects of his 
 poems from occurrences in themselves interesting, and there- 
 fore, though I urged him to w^rite on this tragic incident, I 
 little expected he would. There is, however, a beautiful elegiac 
 poem by him on the subject.* [To the later editions there is 
 prefixed a prose introduction. This I wrote. Mr. Wordsworth 
 wrote to me for information, and I drew up the account in the 
 first person.] 
 
 " And we were gay, our hearts at ease ; 
 With pleasure dancing through the frame 
 We journeyed; all we knew of care, — : 
 Our path that straggled here and there ; 
 Of trouble, —but the fluttering breeze; 
 Of Winter, — but a name. 
 If foresight could have rent the veil 
 Of three short days, — but hush, — no more ! 
 Calm is the grave, and calmer none 
 Than that to which thy cares are gone, 
 Thou victim of the stonuy gale; 
 Asleep on Ziirich's shore. 
 Goddard ! — what art thou ? — a name, — 
 A sunbeam followed by a shade." 
 
 In a subsequent visit to Switzerland I called at Mr. Keller's, j 
 
 and saw some of the ladies of the house, who gave me full 
 particulars. I afterwards became ac(|uainted, in Italy, with 
 
 * Poems of the Imagination, Vol. III. p. 169, Poem XXXIII. 
 
 I 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 439 
 
 Goddard's nearest surviving relative, a sister, then married to 
 
 a Mr. . The winter preceding I was at Rome, when a 
 
 Mrs. Kirkland, the wife of an American gentleman, once Prin- 
 cipal of Harvard College, asked me whether I had ever known 
 a Mr. Goddard, her countryman. On my answering in the 
 affirmative, she said : " I am sorry to hear it, for there has 
 been a lady here in search of you. However, she will be here 
 again on her return from Naples." And in a few months I 
 did see her. It was Goddard's sister. She informed me that 
 Wordsworth's poem had afforded her mother great comfort, 
 and that she had come to Europe mainly to collect all infor- 
 mation still to be had about her poor brother ; that she had 
 seen the Kellers, with whom she was pleased, and that she 
 had taken notes of all the circumstances of her brother's fate ; 
 that she had seen Trotter, had been to Rydal Mount, and 
 learned from Wordsworth of my being in Italy. She was a 
 woman of taste, and of some literary pretensions. 
 
 On my return to England, I was very desirous to renew my 
 acquaintance with Trotter, but I inquired after him in vain. 
 After a time, when I had relaxed my inquiries, I heard of him 
 accidentally, — that he was a stock-broker, and had married a 
 Miss Otter, daughter of the Bishop of Chichester. I had 
 learned this just before one of the balloting evenings at the 
 Athenaeum, — when, seeing Strutt there, and beginning my 
 inquiries about his brother-in-law, he stopped them by saying, 
 " You may ask himself, for there he is. He has been a mem- 
 ber of the Athenaeum these twelve years ! " He called, to 
 Trotter, " Here is a gentleman who wants to speak with you." 
 — '^ Do you recollect me 1 " — " No, I do not." — ^' Do you 
 recoUect poor Goddard 1 " — " You can be no one but Mr. 
 Robinson." We were glad to see -each other, and our acquaint- 
 ance was renewed. The fine youth is now the intelligent man 
 of business. He has written a pamphlet on the American 
 State Stocks. Many years ago he came up from the country, 
 travelling fifty miles to have the pleasure of breakfasting with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth at my apartments. 
 
 To go back to the 19th of August, after parting from our 
 young companions we proceeded down the valley in which is 
 the chapel dedicated to our Lady of the Snow, the subject of 
 Wordsworth's nineteenth poem. The preceding eighteen have 
 to do with objects which had been seen before I joined the 
 party. The elegiac stanzas are placed near the end of the 
 collection, I know not for what reason. The stanzas on the 
 
440 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 chapel express poetically the thoughts which a prosaic mind 
 like mine might receive from the numerous votive offerings 
 hung on the walls. There are pictures representing accidents, 
 — such as drowning, falling from a horse, and the Mother and 
 the Child are in the clouds, — it being understood that the 
 escape proceeded from her aid. Some crutches with painted 
 inscriptions bear witness to the miracles wrought on the lame. 
 
 " To thee, in this aerial cleft, 
 As to a common centre, tend 
 All sufferers that no more rely 
 On mortal succor, — all who sigh 
 And pine, of human hope bereft, 
 Nor wish for earthly friend. 
 
 Thy very name, Lady ! flings 
 O'er blooming fields and gushing springs 
 A tender sense of shadowy fear, 
 And chastening sympathies! " 
 
 We passed the same day through Goldau, a desolate spot, 
 once a populous village, overwhelmed by the slip from the 
 Rossberg. 
 
 On the 20th at Schwyz, which Wordsworth calls the " heart " 
 of Switzerland, as Berne is the " head." * Passing through 
 Brunnen, we reached Altorf on the 21st, the spot which sug- 
 gested Wordsworth's twentieth efFusJon.t My prose remark 
 on the people shows the sad difference between observation and 
 fancy. I wrote : *' These patriotic recollections are delightful 
 when genuine, but the physiognomy of th^ people does not 
 speak in favor of their ancestors. The natives of the district 
 have a feeble and melancholy character. The women are 
 afflicted by goitre. The children beg, as in other Catholic 
 cantons. The little children, with cross-bows in tbe?r hands, 
 sing unintelligible songs. Probably Wilhelm Tell serves, like 
 Henri Quatre, as a name to beg by." But wbai ;says the 
 poet 1 — 
 
 " Thrice happy burghers, peasants, warriors old, 
 Infants in arms, and ye, that as ye go 
 Home-ward or school- ward, ape what ye behold; 
 Heroes before your time, in frolic fancy bold! " 
 
 " And when that calm Spectatress from on high 
 Looks down, — the bright and solitary moon, 
 Who never gazes but to beautify ; 
 And snow-fed torrents, which tlie blaie of noon 
 Roused into fury, murmur a soft tune 
 
 ♦ Poem XXI. of the " Memorials." 
 
 t " Effusion in Presence of the Painted Tower of Tell at Altonl" J 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 441 
 
 That fosters peace, and gentleness recalls; 
 
 Then might the passing monk receive a boon 
 
 Of saintly pleasure from these pictured -vvails, 
 
 W^hile, on the warlike groups, the mellowing lustre falls." 
 
 We next crossed the St. Gotthard. Wordsworth thinks this 
 pass more beautiful than the more celebrated [a blank here]. 
 We slept successively at Amsteg on the 2 2d, Hospenthal on 
 the 23d, and Airolo on the 24th. On the way we were over- 
 taken by a pedestrian, a young Swiss, who had studied at 
 Heidelberg, and was going to Rome. He had his flute, and 
 played the Eanz des Vaches. Wordsworth begged me to ask 
 him to do this, which I did on condition that he wrote a son- 
 net on it. It is XXII. of the collection. The young man was 
 intelligent, and expressed pleasure in our company. W^e w ere 
 sorry when he took French leave. We were English, and I 
 have no doubt he feared the expense of having such costly 
 companions. He gave a sad account of the German Universi- 
 ties, and said that Sand, the murderer of Kotzebue, had many 
 apologists among the students. 
 
 We then proceeded on our half-walk and half-drive, and slept 
 on the 25th at Bellinzona, the first decidedly Italian town. We 
 walked to Locarno, where we resisted the first, and indeed al- 
 most the only, attempt at extortion by an innkeeper on our 
 journey. Our landlord demanded twenty-five francs for a 
 luncheon, the worth of which could scarcely be three. I ten- 
 dered a ducat (twelve francs), and we carried away our luggage. 
 We had the good fortune to find quarters in a new house, the 
 master of which had not been spoiled by receiving English 
 guests. 
 
 On the 27th we had a row to Luino, on the Lago Maggiore, 
 a walk to Ponte Tresa, and then a row to Lugano, where we 
 went to an excellent hotel, kept by a man of the name of Eossi, 
 a respectable man. 
 
 Our apartments consisted of one handsome and spacious 
 room, in w^hich were Mr. and Mrs. W^ordsworth (this room 
 fronted the beautiful lake) ; a small back room, occupied by 
 Miss Wordsworth, with a window looking into a dirty yard, 
 and having an internal communication with a two-bedded 
 room, in which Monkhouse and I slept. I had a very fi:'ee 
 conversation w4th Rossi about the Queen, who had been some 
 time in his house. It is worth relating here, and might have 
 been worth making known in England, had the trial then going 
 on had another issue. He told me, but not emphatically, that 
 when the Queen came, she first slept in the large room, but not 
 19* 
 
442 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. LChap. 24. 
 
 liking that, she removed to the back room. " And Bergami." 
 said Rossi, *' had the room in which you and the other gentle- 
 man sleep." — *' And was there," I asked, " the same communi- 
 cation then that there is now between the two rooms 1 " — ^' Of 
 course," he replied. '^ It was in the power, certainly, of the 
 Queen and Bergami to open the door : whether it was opened 
 or not, no one can say." He added, ^' I know nothing ; none 
 of my servants know anything." The most favorable circum- 
 stance related by Rossi was, that Bergami's brother did not fear 
 to strike off much from the bill. He added, too, that the Queen 
 was surrounded by cattiva gente. 
 
 On the 28th we took an early w^alk up the mountain San 
 Salvador, which produced No. XXIY. of Wordsworth's Me- 
 morial Poems.* Though the weather was by no means favor- 
 able, we enjoyed a much finer view than from the Rigi. The 
 mountains in the neighborhood are beautiful, but the charm of 
 the prospect lies in a glimpse of distant mountains. We saw 
 a most elegant pyramid, literally in the sky, partly black, and 
 partly shining like silver. It was the Simplon. Mont Blanc 
 and Monte Rosa were seen in parts. Clouds concealed the bases, 
 and too soon also the summits. This splendid vision lasted but 
 a few minutes. The plains of Piedmont were hardly visible, 
 owing to the black clouds which covered this part of the hori- 
 zon. We could, however, see in the midst of a dark surface a 
 narrow ribbon of white, which we were told was the Po. We 
 were told the direction in which Milan lay, but could not see 
 the cathedral. 
 
 The same day we went on to Menaggio, on the Lake Como. 
 This, in Wordsworth's estimation, is the most beautiful of the 
 .lakes. On the 29th and 30th we slept at Cadenabbia, and " fed 
 our eyes " 
 
 " In paths sun-proof 
 With purple of the trellis roof. 
 That through the jealous leaves escapes 
 From Cadenabbia' s pendent grapes." t 
 
 The beds in which Monkhouse and I slept at Menaggio were 
 intolerable, but we forgot the sufferings of the night in the en- 
 joyment of the morning. I wrote in my journal : '* This day 
 has been spent on the lake, and so much exquisite pleasure I 
 never had on water. The tour, or rather excursion, we have 
 
 * Wordsworth speaks of the "prospect" as "more diversified bv magnifi- 
 cence, beauty, and sublimity than perhaps any other point in P^urope, of so 
 inconsiderable an elevation (2,000 feet), commands." — Introduction to Poem 
 XXIV 
 
 t Vide Poem XXV. of the " Memorials." 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 443 
 
 been making, surpasses in scenery all that I have ever made ; 
 and Wordsworth asserts the same. I write now from an inn 
 where we have been served with all the promptitude of an 
 English hotel, and with a neatness equal to that of Holland. 
 But the pleasure can hardly be recorded. It consists in the 
 contemplation of scenes absolutely indescribable by words, and 
 in sensations for which no words have been even invented. We 
 were lucky in meeting two honest fellows of watermen, who have 
 been attentive and not extortionate. I will not enumerate the 
 points of view and villas we visited. We saw nothing the guide- 
 books do not speak of" 
 
 On the 31st we slept at Como, and next day went to Milan, 
 where we took up our abode at Reichardt's Swiss Hotel. We 
 were, however, sent to an adjacent hotel to sleep, there being 
 no bed unoccupied at Reichardt's. We amved just before 
 dinner, and were placed at the upper end of a table reserved 
 for the English, of whom there were five or six present, besides 
 ourselves. Here we made an acquaintance with a character of 
 whom I have something to say. 
 
 A knot of young persons were listening to the animated con- 
 versation of a handsome young man, who was rattling away on 
 the topics of the day with great vivacity. Praising highly the 
 German poets Goethe, Schiller, (fee, he said : " Compared with 
 these, we have not a poet worth naming." I sat opposite him, 
 and said : " Die gegenwartige Gesellschaft ausgenommen " (The 
 present company excepted). Now, whether he heard or under- 
 stood me I cannot possibly say. If so, the rapidity with which 
 he recovered himself was admirable, for he instantly went on : 
 " W^hen I say no one, I always except Wordsworth, who is 
 the greatest poet England has had for generations." The effect 
 was ludicrous. Mrs. Wordsworth gave me a nudge, and said : 
 **He knows that's William." And Wordsworth, being taken 
 by surprise, said : " That 's a most ridiculous remark for you to 
 make. My name is Wordsworth." On this the stranger threw 
 himself into an attitude of astonishment, — well acted at all 
 events, — and apologized for the liberty he had taken. After 
 dinner he came to us, and said he had been some weeks at Mi- 
 lan, and should be proud to be our cicerone. We thought the 
 offer too advantageous to be rejected, and he went round with 
 us to the sights of this famous city. But though I was for a 
 short time taken in by him, I soon had my misgivings ; and 
 coming home the first evening, Wordsworth said : " This Mr. 
 is an amusing man, but there is something about him I 
 
444 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 don't like." And I discovered him to be a mere pretender in 
 German literature, — he knew merely the names of Goethe and 
 Schiller. He made free with the names of our English literary 
 notabilities, such as Shelley, Byron, Lamb, Leigh Hunt ; but I 
 remarked that of those I knew he took care to say no more. 
 One day he went to Mrs. Wordsworth with a long face, and 
 said he had lost his purse. But she was not caught. Some 
 one else must have paid the piper. At Paris we met the same 
 gentleman again, and he begged me to lend him £ 15, as he had 
 been robbed of all his money. I was enabled to tell him that I 
 had that very morning borrow^ed £ 10. He was, however, more 
 successful in an application to Monkhouse, who said : ** I would 
 rather lose the money than ever see that fellow again." It is 
 needless to say he " lost his money and his friend," but did not, 
 in the words of the song, "place great store on both." As usually 
 happens in such cases, we learnt almost immediately after the 
 money had been advanced, that Mr. was a universal bor- 
 rower. His history became known by degrees. He was an 
 American by birth, and being forced to fly to England, he be- 
 came secretary to a Scotchman, who left him money, that he 
 might study the law. This money he spent or lost abroad, 
 and it was at this stage that we fell in with him. He afterw^ards 
 committed what was then a capital forgery, but made his es- 
 cape. These circumstances being told in the presence of the 
 manager of a New York theatre, he said: "Then I am at 
 liberty to speak. I knew that fellow in America, and saw him 
 w^ith an iron collar on his neck, a convict for forgery. He had 
 respectable friends, and obtained his pardon on condition that 
 he should leave the country. Being one day in a box at Covent 
 Garden, I saw him. Perceiving that I knew him, he came to 
 me, and most pathetically implored me not to expose him. * I 
 am a reformed man,' said he ; ' I have friends, and have a pros- 
 pect of redeeming myself I am at your mercy.' His appear- 
 ance was not inconsistent with this account. I therefore said : 
 ^ I hope you are speaking the truth. I cannot be acquainted 
 with you, but unless I hear of misconduct on your part in this 
 country, I will keep your secret.' " 
 
 Some time afterwards we heard that this reckless adventurer 
 had died on a bed of honor, — that is, was killed in a duel. 
 
 I remained a week at Milan, Tvhere I fell in wath Mrs. Alde- 
 bert, and renewed my acquaintance with her excellent brother, 
 Mr. Mylius, who is highly honored in very old age. Milan 
 furnished Wordsworth with matter for three poems, on Leo- 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 445 
 
 nardo da Vinci's ^' Last Supper," " The Eclipse of the Sun " 
 (which Monkhouse and I saw on our joui'ney from Milan), and 
 *' The Column," a memorial of Buonaparte's defeated ambition.* 
 I have very little to say, as I abstain from a description of the 
 usual sights. I may, however, remark, that at the picture gal- 
 lery at the Brera, three pictures made an impression on me, 
 which was renewed on every subsequent visit, — Guercino's 
 " Abraham and Hagar," Raphael's " Marriage of the Virgin," 
 and Albani's " Oak-Tree and Cupids." 
 
 At the Ambrosian Library we inspected the famous copy of 
 Virgil which belonged to Petrarch. It has in the poet's own 
 handwriting a note, stating when and where he first saw Laura. 
 Wordsworth was deeply interested in this entry, and would 
 certainly have requested a copy, if he had not been satisfied 
 that he should find it in print. The custos told us that when 
 Buonaparte came here first, and the book was shown him, he 
 seized it, exclaiming, " This is mine." He had it bound, and 
 his own iV marked on it. It came back when the other plun- 
 der was restored. Another curiosity was a large book by Leo- 
 nardo da Vinci, full of mechanical studies. Wordsworth was 
 much struck with the fact that a man who had produced works 
 of BO great beauty and sublimity had prepared himself by in- 
 tense and laborious study of scientific and mathematical de- 
 tails. It was not till late that he ventured on beauty as exhib- 
 ited in the human form. 
 
 Other objects of interest at Milan, which I never forgot, 
 were the antique columns before the Church of St. Laurent ; 
 the exhibition of a grand spectacle, the siege of Troy, in the 
 Amphitheatre, capable of holding 30,000 persons, which 
 enabled me to imagine what Roman shows probably were ; 
 and the exquisite scenery of the Scala Theatre. 
 
 But the gi-eat attraction of this neighborhood is the cele- 
 brated picture of Leonardo da Vinci in the refectory of the 
 Convent of Maria della Grazia. After sustaining every injury 
 from Italian monks, French soldiers, wet, and the appropria- 
 tion of the building to secular purposes, this picture is now 
 protected by the public sense of its excellence from further in- 
 jury. And mor3 remains of the original than from Goethe's 
 dissertation I expected to see. The face of our Saviour ap- 
 pears to have suffered less than any other part. And the 
 countenance has in it exquisite feeling ; it is all sweetness and 
 dignity. Wordsworth says : — 
 
 * Poems XXVI., XXVII., and XXIX. of the " Memorials." 
 
446 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 " Though searching damps, and many an envious flaw, 
 Have marred this work; the calm ethereal grace, 
 The love deep-seated in the Saviour's face, 
 The mercy, goodness, have not failed to awe 
 The elements ; as they do melt and thaw 
 The heart of the beholder." * 
 
 Some of the apostles have a somewhat caricature expression, 
 which has been far better preserved in the several copies exist- 
 ing, as well as in the engraving of Raphael Morghen. There 
 is a sort of mawkish sentimentality in the copies of St. John, 
 which always offended me. There is less of it in the original. 
 That and St. Andrew are the best preserved, next to the face 
 of Christ. 
 
 On the 5th of September the Wordsworths went back to the 
 Lake of Como, in order to gratify Miss Wordsworth, w^ho wished 
 to see every spot which her brother saw in his first journey, — 
 a journey made when he was young. 
 
 On the 7th, Monkhouse and I went to Varese. As we ap- 
 proached the town we drew nigh the mountains. Varese is 
 most delightfully situated. There is on a mountain, 2,000 feet 
 high, a church with fifteen appendant chapels. To this we 
 found peasants were flocking in great numbers, it being the eve 
 of the birthday of the Virgin. We resolved to witness this 
 scene of devotion, and our walk afforded me more delight than 
 any single excursion I have yet made. For two miles the 
 mountain is very steep. The fifteen chapels are towards the 
 top, and beautiful, containing representations of the Passion of 
 Christ in carved and painted w^ood. The figures are as large 
 as life, and at least very expressive. Though so closely resem- 
 bling wax figures, they excited no disgust. On the contrary, I 
 was highly pleased with the talent of the artists. The drag- 
 ging of the cross, and the crucifixion, are deeply affecting. The 
 spectator looks through iron grates, the apertures of which are 
 purposely small. My view was imperfect, on account of the 
 number of pious worshippers. Towards the top the crowd was 
 immense. We sometimes had to jump over the bodies of men 
 and women. The church I could scarcely enter. Hundreds of 
 women were lying about with their provisions in baskets. The 
 hats of the peasantry were covered with holy gingerbread 
 mingled with bits of glass. Bands of people came up chant- 
 ing after a sort of leader. This scene of devotion would have 
 compensated for the w^alk ; but we had, in addition, a very fine 
 prospect. On one side the plains of Lombardy, studded with 
 
 « Poem XXVI. of the "Memorials." 
 
 J 
 
i 
 
 1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 447 
 
 churches and villages; on another, five or six pieces of water. 
 In another direction we saw a mass of Alpine hills and valleys, 
 glens, rocks, and precipices. A part of the Lake of Lugano w^as 
 prominently visible. To enjoy this view I had to ascend an 
 eminence beyond the church. Our walk home, Monkhouse 
 thought, was hardly less than six miles. We found our inn 
 rather uncomfortable from the number of guests, and from the 
 singing in the streets. 
 
 We rejoined the Wordsworths at Baveno on the 8th. Then 
 we crossed the Simplon, resting successively on the 9th at 
 Domo d'Ossola, 10th Simplon, 11th Turtman, and the 12th 
 and 13th at the baths of Leuk. From this place w^e walked up 
 the Gemmi, by far the most wonderful of all the passes of 
 Switzerland I had ever, or have now ever crossed. The most 
 striking part is a mountain wall 1,600 feet in perpendicular 
 height, and having up it a zigzag path broad enough to enable 
 a horse to ascend. The road is hardly visible from below. A 
 parapet in the more dangerous parts renders it safe. Here my 
 journal mentions our seeing men employed in picking up bees 
 in- a torpid state from the cold. The bees had swarmed four 
 days before. It does not mention what I well recollect, and 
 Wordsworth has made the subject of a sonnet, the continued 
 barking of a dog irritated by the echo of his own voice. In hu- 
 man life this is perpetually occurring. It is said that a dog 
 has been known to contract an illness by the continued labor 
 of barking at his own echo. In the present instance the bark- 
 ing lasted while we were on the spot. 
 
 " A solitary wolf-dog, ranging on 
 Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime 
 Of aery voices locked in unison, — 
 
 Faint, — far off. — near, — deep, — solemn and sublime ! — 
 So from the body of one guilty deed 
 A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed ! " * 
 
 On the 14th we slept at Martigny, having passed through 
 the most dismal of all the valleys in Switzerland, — the valley 
 of the Rhone, and Sion,t the most ugly of all the towns. A 
 barren country, and a town of large and frightful edifices. An 
 episcopal town too. It' looked poverty-struck. 
 
 I say nothing of Chamouni, where we slept two nights, the 
 15th and 16th ; nor of the roads to it, but that the Tete Noire, 
 by which we returned, is still more interesting than the Col de 
 Balme, by which we went. Again at Martigny on the 17th. 
 
 ♦ No. XXXT. of the " Memorials," "Echo upon the Gemmi." 
 t The painters, however, think it full of picturesque subjects. 
 
448 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 I should not have omitted to mention that, to add to the sad- 
 ness produced by the Valais, Wordsworth remarked that there 
 the Alps themselves were in a state of decay, — crumbling to 
 pieces. His is the line : — ■ 
 
 ** The human soul craves something that endures." 
 
 On the 18th we were at Villeneuve, and on the 19th and 
 20th at Lausanne. In the latter place I saw some relations 
 of Mrs. H. Mylius, the Minuets, an agreeable family. 
 
 At Geneva I became acquainted with a Scotch M. D., a Dr. 
 Chisholm, a very estimable man, with four very agreeable 
 daughters. The mother an English lady in the best sense of 
 the word. At Dr. Chisholm's house I met the celebrated his- 
 torian Sismondi, who reminded me of Rogers, the poet. On 
 the 23d I sought out Mr. Pictet, to make what could not but 
 be a melancholy call. I met Trotter on the road. He was af- 
 fected when he saw me. We walked together to the city, and 
 he gave me those details which I have already written. We 
 had all been sincerely afflicted at Goddard's death. He was 
 an amiable and interesting young man ; and we could not help 
 recollecting that it was his rencontre with me, and his desire to 
 see Wordsworth, which occasioned his being at the Lake of 
 Zurich when the storm took place. 
 
 In the afternoon I called on Mrs. Reeve.* She, too, had 
 a sad tale to tell. She witnessed the departure of the party 
 for Mont Blanc, among whom were the three guides who 
 perished.! 
 
 September 2Jfih. — In the morning much time lost in running 
 about. After dinner we went to a delightful spot at Petit- 
 Saconnex, where Geneva, the lake, Mont Blanc, were all seen 
 illuminated by the setting sun. A very magnificent scene 
 which we all enjoyed. 
 
 On the 25th we left Geneva. On our way to Paris we 
 visited Montbar, the residence of Buffon, a man of sufficient 
 fame to render one curious to see the seat of his long retire- 
 ment and study. W^e did not see the dwelling-house within, 
 it being out of order, and his library and its furniture are dis- 
 jDcrsed ; but we walked in the garden, and ascended a tower 
 of considerable height as well as antiquity. This belonged to 
 the royal family, and was purchased by the celebrated Buffon, 
 who had changed the military castle into a modern chateau. 
 
 * The widow of Dr. Reeve, of Norwich, and mother of Mr. Henry Reeve, 
 the translator of De Tocqneville 
 
 t In Dr. Hamel's well-known attempt to ascend Mont Blanc. 
 
1820.] SWISS TOUR WITH WORDSWORTH. 449 
 
 The garden is of small extent, and consists of several broad 
 terraces with very fine trees in them. The prospect is not 
 particularly fine. The view embraces several valleys, but the 
 surrounding hills are all of one height, and the valleys are 
 cold and somewhat barren. Near the tower there is a small 
 column, which the son of BufFon raised to his father's memory. 
 The inscription was torn off during the Revolution. I thought 
 more of the unfortunate son than of the father, for the son 
 left this retreat (which his father preferred to the court), to 
 perish on the scaffold at Paris. The heroism with which he 
 died, saying only to the people, " Je m'appelle BufFon," be- 
 speaks an intense sense of his father's worth, and interests me 
 more than the talents which gave the father celebrity. 
 
 We passed through the forest of Fontaine bleau. The part 
 through which we rode is in no way remarkable, — a mere col- 
 lection of trees with avenues. No variety of surface. We 
 alighted at the Ville de Lyon, where we were in all respects 
 well satisfied with our entertainment. The chateau is a vast 
 hunting-palace, built by a succession of French kings from 
 Saint Louis dowTiwards. Francis I. and Henry lY. are spoken 
 of as having built the more prominent parts. It has no pre- 
 tension to architectural beauty w^hatever. The apartments are 
 curious, — some from their antiquity, with painted roofs ex- 
 hibiting the taste of ancient times, — others from their splen- 
 dor, with the usual decorations of satin hangings, gilt thrones, 
 china tables, &c., (fee. In a little plain room there is exhibited 
 a table, which must be an object of great curiosity to those 
 who are fond of associating the recollection of celebrated events 
 with sensible objects. I have this feeling but feebly. Never- 
 theless I saw with interest the table on which Buonaparte 
 signed his abdication in the year 1814. We were also shown 
 the apartments in which the Pope was kept a prisoner for 
 twenty months, for refusing to yield to Napoleon ; from which 
 apartments, the concierge assured us, he never descended. 
 After an excellent dinner, we were shown some pleasing Eng- 
 lish gardens, laid out by Josephine. 
 
 On nearing Paris I answered the solicitations of a beggar by 
 
 the gift of a most wretched pair of pantaloons. He clutched 
 
 them, and ran on begging, which showed a mastery of the 
 
 craft. When he could get no more from the second carriage, 
 
 \ he sent after me kisses of amusing vivacity. Our merriment 
 
 • was checked by the information of the postilion that this beg- 
 
 ^ gar was an ancien cure. We came to another sight not to be 
 
 cc 
 
450 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap- 24. 
 
 found in England, — a man and woman actually yoked to- 
 gether, and harrowing. The sight was doubly offensive on 
 Sunday, the day of rest, when we witnessed it. We cannot 
 expect to make political economists of the peasantry, but pro- 
 fessed thinkers ought to know that were the seventh day opened 
 universally to labor, this would but lessen the value of the 
 poor man's capital, — his limbs. 
 
 At Fontainebleau we were awakened by the firing of cannon. 
 The waiter burst into our room, — " Yoila un Prince ! " It 
 was the birth of the now Due de Bordeaux, — perhaps one 
 day the King of France. 
 
 At Paris I renewed my old acquaintance, and saw the old 
 sights. On the 8th I left the Wordsworths, who were intend- 
 ing to prolong their stay. On the 9th I slept at Amiens ; on 
 the 10th was on the road ; on the 11th reached Dover; and 
 on the 12th of October slept in my own chambers. 
 
 " And so," my journal says, " I concluded my tour in excel- 
 lent health and spirits, having travelled farther, and seen a 
 greater number and a greater variety of sublime and beautiful 
 objects, and in company better calculated to make me feel the 
 worth of these objects, than any it has been my good fortune 
 to enjoy." Of that journal I must now say that it is the most 
 meagre and defective I ever wrote, — perhaps from want of 
 time. The most interesting details, and not the least true, 
 have been written from memory, the journal giving me only 
 the outlines. The fidelity of what I have written from recol- 
 lection might be doubted ; but that would be unjust. 
 
 October 29th. — I was employed looking over law papers all 
 the forenoon ; I then walked in the rain to Clapton, reading 
 by the w^ay the Indicator,^ There is a spirit of enjoyment 
 in this little work which gives a charm to it. I/cigh Hunt 
 seems the very opposite of Hazlitt. He loves everything, 
 he catches the sunny side of everything, and, excepting that 
 he has a few polemical antipathies, finds everything beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 November 8th. — Spent the afternoon with H. Mylius, and 
 dined there w^ith a large party, — English and foreign. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Blunt, friends of Monkhouse, were there, — she a 
 sensible, lively woman, though she ventured to ridicule the 
 
 * A weekly publication edited by Leigh Hunt. It consists of a Imndred 
 numbers, and forms two vols. London, 1819-21. 
 
1^20.] THE PICKPOCKET. 451 
 
 great poet. I suspect she has quarrelled with Monkhouse 
 about him ; for she says : '' All Wordsworth's friends quarrel 
 with those who do not like him." Is this so % And what does 
 it prove ? 
 
 November 9th. — In the afternoon called on Wordsworth. 
 He arrived yesterday night in town after a perilous journey. 
 He was detained nine days at Boulogne by bad weather, and 
 on setting off from the port was wrecked. He gave himself 
 up for lost, and had taken oiF his coat to make an at- 
 tempt at swimming ; but the vessel struck ivithin the bar, and 
 the water retired so fast that, when the packet fell in pieces, 
 the passengers were left on land. They were taken ashore in 
 carts. 
 
 November 13th. — In the evening I set out on a walk which 
 proved an unlucky one. As I passed in the narrow part of 
 the Strand, near Thelwall's, I entered incautiously into a 
 crowd. I soon found myself unable to proceed, and felt that 
 I was pressed on all sides. I had buttoned my great-coat. On 
 a sudden I felt a hand at my fob. I instantly pressed my 
 hands down, recollecting I had Mrs. Wordsworth's watch in my 
 pocket. I feared making any motion with my hands, and 
 merely pressed my waistband. Before I could make any cry, 
 I was thrown down (how, I cannot say). I rose instantly. A 
 fellow called out, " Sir, you struck me ! " I answered, '' I am 
 sorry for it, — I 'm robbed, and that is worse.'' I was uncer- 
 tain whether I had lost anything, but it at once occurred to 
 me that this was a sort of protecting exclamation. I ran into 
 the street, and then remarked, for the first time, that I had 
 lost my best umbrella. I felt my watch, but my gold chain 
 and seals were gone. The prime cost of what was taken was 
 about eight guineas. On the whole, I escaped very well, con- 
 sidering all circumstances. Many persons have been robbed 
 on this very spot, and several have been beaten and ill-treated 
 in the heart of the City, — and in the daytime. Such is the 
 state of our police ! My watch-chain was taken from me, not 
 with the violence of robbery, or the secrecy of theft, but with 
 a sort of ease and boldness that made me for a moment not 
 know what the fellow meant. He seemed to be decently 
 dressed, and had on a white waistcoat. 
 
 I called at Lamb's, where the Words worths were. I was in 
 good spirits telling my tale. It is not my habit to fret about 
 what happens to me through no fault of my own. I did not 
 reproach myself on this occasion ; and as the loss was not a 
 
452 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 serious inconvenience, it did not give me a moment's uneasi- 
 ness. 
 
 I then went to a large party at Masquerier's. There were 
 whist-tables, dancing, beautiful drawings by Lewis, made on 
 Masquerier's late journey, and some interesting people there. 
 I saw, but had no conversation w^ith, Lawrence, whose medical 
 lectures have excited much obloquy on account of the Mate- 
 rialism obtruded in them.* 
 
 November 18th. — The afternoon was agreeable. I dined 
 with the Wordsworths, and Lambs, and Mr. Kenyon, at Monk- 
 house's. It was an agreeable company and a good dinner, 
 though I could not help sleeping. Wordsworth and Monkhouse 
 either folloAved my example, or set me one, and Lamb talked 
 as if he were asleep. Wordsworth was in excellent mood. 
 His improved and improving mildness and tolerance must very 
 much conciliate all who know him. 
 
 November 20th. — I was glad to accompany the Wordsworths 
 to the British Museum. I had to wait for them in the ante- 
 room, and w^e had at last but a hurried survey of the antiqui- 
 ties. I did not perceive that Wordsworth much enjoyed the 
 Elgin Marbles ; but he is a still man when he does enjoy him- 
 self, and by no means ready to talk of his pleasure, except to 
 his sister. We could hardly see the statues. The Memnon,t 
 however, seemed to interest him very much. Took tea with 
 the Lambs. I accompanied Mrs. and Miss Wordsworth home, 
 and afterwards sat late with Wordsworth at Lamb's. 
 
 November 21st, — I went late to Lamb's, and stayed an hour 
 there very pleasantly. The Wordsworths were there, and Dr. 
 Stoddart. The Doctor was very civil. Politics were hardly 
 touched on, for Miss Kelly % stepped in, thus drawing our at- 
 
 * Lectures on Physiology, Zoology, and the Natural History of Man. By 
 William Lawrence. " London.* John Callord. 1819. The author recalled 
 and suppressed this edition; but the work has since been repeatedly re- 
 printed. 
 
 t This fonued no part of the Elgin Collection. It is the colossal Egyptian 
 head of Rameses II., supposed to be identical with the Sesostris^ of the 
 Greeks, and was known when first brought to the British Museum* as the 
 Memnon. This head, one of the finest examples of Egyptian art in Europe, 
 was removed by Belzoni in 1815, and presented to the Museum by Messrs. H. 
 Salt and Burckhardt, in 1817. 
 
 X Miss Kelly, born at Brighton in 1790, attained great popularity as an 
 actress in performing characters of a domestic kind. She was twice sliot at on 
 the stage. Charles Lamb, in 1818, addressed her in the lines beginning; — 
 
 " You are not Kelly of the common strain." 
 
 One of her best performances was in the melodrama of '• The Maid and the 
 Magpie," subsequently referred to. Miss Kelly built the small theatre in Dean 
 Street, Soho, ana latterly devoted her time to preparing pupils for the stage. 
 
1820.] QUEEN'S TRIAL. — SIEVEKING. 453 
 
 teiition to a far more agreeable subject. She pleased me much. 
 She is neither young nor handsome, but very agreeable ; her 
 voice and manner those of a person who knows her own worth, 
 but is at the same time not desirous to assume upon it. She 
 talks like a sensible woman. Barry Cornwall, too, came in. 
 Talfourd also there. 
 
 November 29th, — Being engaged all day in court, I saw 
 nothing of the show of the day, — the Queen's visit to St. 
 Paul's. A great crowd were assembled, which the Times rep- 
 resents as an effusion of public feeling, -echoed by the whole 
 nation in favor of injured innocence. The same thing was 
 represented by the Ministerial papers as a mere rabble. I think 
 the government journals on this occasion are nearer the truth 
 than their adversaries ; for though the popular delusion has 
 spread widely, embracing all the lowest classes, and a large 
 proportion of the middling orders, yet the great majority of 
 the educated, and nearly all the impartial, keep aloof. 
 
 EemJ* — The disgraceful end of the disgraceful process 
 against the Queen took place while the Wordsworths were in 
 town. Whilst the trial was going on, and the issue still un- 
 certain, I met Coleridge, who said, " Well, Robinson, you are 
 a Queenite, I hopeT' — *' Indeed I am not." — " How is that 
 possible*?" — '^1 am only an anti-Kingite." — "That's just 
 what I mean." 
 
 On the 3d of December I dined with the Beneckes, and 
 made an acquaintance, which still continues, with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Sieveking.f He is a merchant of great respectability, 
 and related to my Hamburg acquaintance. A man of sense, 
 though not a writer ; he is highly religious, a believer in mes- 
 merism, and with an inclination to all mystical doctrines. His 
 eldest son is now a young M. D.,J and a very amiable young 
 man. He was educated partly at our University College, and 
 I can cite him as a testimony in its favor. After spending 
 several years at Paris, Berlin, and at Edinburgh, where he 
 took his degree, he gave his decided opinion that the medical 
 school of our University College was the best in Europe. 
 
 December 8th, — 1 read a little of Keats's poems to the 
 Aders's, — the beginning of " Hyperion," — really a piece of 
 gi'eat promise. There are a force, wildness, and originality in 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 t Resident for many years at Stamford Hill. Mr. vSieveking died at his son's 
 residence in Manchester Square, November 29, 1868, aged 79T 
 
 I Now Physician in Ordinaiy to the Prince of Wales. He attended H. C. R. 
 m his last illriess. 
 
454 RKMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB K03L\S0N. [Chap. 24. 
 
 the works of this young poet which, if his perilous journey to 
 Italy does not destroy him, promise to place him at the head 
 of the next generation of poets. Lamb places him next to 
 Wordsworth, — not meaning any comparison, for they are dis- 
 similar. 
 
 December IJfth, — On my return from court, where I had 
 gained a cause for H. Stansfeld, I met Esther Nash and walked 
 with her. After dining at Collier's, I accompanied her to 
 Drury Lane. '' The English Fleet," a very stupid opera, but 
 Braham's singing was delightful. Madame Vestris, though 
 rather too impudent, is a charming creature, and Munden, as 
 the drunken sailor, was absolutely perfect. Afterwards a melo- 
 drama {" The Maid and the Magpie "), in which the theft of 
 a magpie gives occasion to a number of affecting scenes, was 
 rendered painfully affecting by Miss Kelly's acting. .The plan 
 well laid and neatly executed. 
 
 Becemher 15th, — I spent the forenoon at home reading law, 
 and went late to the Aders's, where I read Keats's "Pot of 
 Basil," a pathetic tale, delightfully told. I afterwards read 
 the story in Boccaccio, — each in its way excellent. I am 
 greatly mistaken if Keats do not very soon take a high place 
 among our poets. Great feeling and a powerful imagination 
 are shown in this little volume. 
 
 December 20th. — Another forenoon spent at home over law- 
 books. The evening I spent at Aders's. The Flaxmans there. 
 They seemed to enjoy the evening much. Aders produced his 
 treasures of engraving as well as his paintings, and Flaxman 
 could appreciate the old masters. He did not appear much to 
 relish Thorwaldsen's designs, and some anecdotes he related 
 made us suppose that he was indisposed to relish Thorwaldsen's 
 works of art. Flaxman greatly admired the head of Mrs. 
 Aders's father,* and declared it to be one of the best of Chan- 
 trey's works. We supped, and Flaxman was in his best 
 humor. I was not aware how much he loved music. He was 
 more than gratified, — he was deeply affected by Mrs. Aders's 
 singing. It was apparent that he thought of his wife, but he 
 was warm in his praises and admiration of Mrs. Aders's. 
 
 December 26th, — After dining at Collier's I went to Flax- 
 man, — took tea and had several interesting hours' chat with 
 him. I read some of Wordsworth's poems and Keats's " Eve 
 of St. Agnes." I was, however, so drowsy that I read this 
 
 * John Raphael Smith, the eminent engraver, who died in London, 1811. 
 He was appointed engraver to the Prince of Wales. 
 
1820.] 
 
 EDGAR TAYLOR. 
 
 455 
 
 poem without comprehending it. It quite affects me to re- 
 mark the early decay of my faculties. I am so lethargic that 
 I shall soon be unable to discharge the ordinary business of 
 life ; and as to all pretensions to literary taste, this I must lay 
 aside entirely. How wretched is that state, at least how low 
 is it, when a man is content to renounce all claim to respect, 
 and endeavors only to enjoy himself ! Yet I am reduced to 
 this. When my vivacity is checked by age, and I have lost 
 my companionable qualities, I shall then have nothing left but 
 a little good-nature to make me tolerable, even to my old ac- 
 quaintances.* 
 
 December Slst. — Bischoff told me that when, some years 
 
 back, T , the common friend of himself and Monkhouse, 
 
 was in difficulties, Bischoff communicated the fact to Monk- 
 house, who seemed strongly affected. He said nothing to Mr. 
 
 Bischoff, but went instantly to T and offered him £ 10,000, 
 
 if that could save him from failure. It could not, and T 
 
 rejected the offer. 
 
 After dining with W. Collier alone, and sitting in chambers 
 over a book, I went to Edgar Taylor's,t having refused to dine 
 with him. He had a party, and I stayed there till the old year 
 had passed. There w^ere Richard and Arthur Taylor, E. Tay- 
 lor's partner, Iloscoe,t and a younger Iloscoe§ (a handsome and 
 promising young man, who is with Pattison the pleader, || and 
 is to be called to the bar), and Bowring the traveller. His 
 person is mild and amiable, and his tone of conversation agree- 
 able. He is in correspondence with the Spanish patriots, and 
 is an enthusiast in their cause. 
 
 So passed away the last hours of the year, — a year which 
 I have enjoyed as I have the former years of my life, but which 
 has given me a deeper conviction than I ever had of the insig- 
 nificance of my own character. 
 
 * Written between forty-six and forty-seven years before H. C. R died. 
 
 t Mr. Edgar Taylor was a very eminent solicitor, and an accomplished man. 
 He translated the French metrical chronicle, by Wace, entitled " Roman de 
 Ron." He also wrote a "History of the German Minnesingers," with trans- 
 lated specimens ; and prepared a version of some of the admirable fairy stories 
 of the brothers Grimm: illustrated by George Cruikshank. And it is well 
 known that he was the " Layman " whose revised translation of the New Tes- 
 tament was published by Pickering in 1840. shortly after his death. This 
 work was almost entirely^prepared by him during a long and painful illness. 
 
 X Robert Roscoe. Like almost all William Roscoe's sons, an author and 
 poet. He died in 1850. 
 
 § Henry Roscoe, author of " The Lives of Eminent Lawvers," &;c.,&c. He 
 died in 1836. " ' 
 
 II Afterwards a Judge. 
 
456 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Ch.vp. 25. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 1821. 
 
 JANUARY 1st. — I dined at Collier's, and then went to 
 Covent Garden, where I saw '' Virginius " Macready very 
 much pleased me. The truth of his performance is admirable. 
 His rich mellow tones are delightful, and did he combine the 
 expressive face of Kean with his own voice, he would far sur- 
 pass Kean, for in judgment I think him equal. The scene in 
 which he betroths his daughter is delightfully tender, but the 
 catastrophe is too long delayed and wants effect, and the last 
 act is an excrescence. 
 
 January 21st — I looked over papers, and at twelve o'clock 
 walked out. I called on the Colliers, and then went to Mrs. 
 Barbauld's. She was in good spirits, but she is now the con- 
 firmed old lady. Independently of her fine understanding and 
 literary reputation, she would be interesting. Her white locks, 
 fair and unwrinkled skin, brilliant starched linen, and rich 
 silk gown, make her a fit object for a painter. Her conver- 
 sation is lively, her remarks judicious, and always pertinent. 
 
 January SOih, — This day being a holiday, I went to Kem 
 ble's sale. I met Amyot there, and we had a pleasant lounge 
 together. Mr. and Mrs. Masquerier and Lewis took tea wuth 
 me, and stayed several hours looking over my prints, and I 
 enjoyed their pleasure. Is it vanity, sympathy, or good 
 nature, or a compound of all these feelings, which makes the 
 owner of works of art enjoy the exhibition ] Besides this, 
 he learns the just appreciation of works of art, which is a 
 positive gain, if anything appertaining to taste may be called 
 so. 
 
 February 10th, — The evening was devoted to Talfourd's 
 call to the bar, which was made more amusing by the contem- 
 poraneous call of the Irish orator, Phillips.* Talfourd had a 
 numerous dinner-party, at which I was the senior barrister. 
 We were so much more numerous than the other parties, — 
 there being three besides Phillips's, — that we took the head- 
 table and the lead in the business of the evening. Soon after 
 we were settled, with the dessert on the table, I gave Talfourd's 
 
 * Afterwards Commissioner of the Insolvent Court. 
 
 
1821] LETTER FROM WORDSWORTH. 457 
 
 health. He, after returning thanks, gave as a toast the Irish 
 Bar, and in aUiision to Phillips's call, said that what had just 
 taken place was a great gain to England, and a loss to Ireland. 
 This compliment called up the orator, and he spoke in a subdued 
 tone and with a slowness that surprised me. I left the Hall for 
 an hour and a half to take tea with Manning. When I returned 
 Phillips was again on his legs, and using a great deal of decla- 
 mation. He spoke five times in the course of the evening. 
 Monkhouse came to the Hall, and at about twelve we adjourned 
 to Talfourd's chambers, w^here an elegant supper w^as set out. 
 In bed at half past two. 
 
 March 10th. — I took tea at Flaxman's, and enjoyed the two 
 hours I stayed there very much. Of all the religious men I 
 ever saw, he is the most amiable. The utter absence of all 
 polemical feeling, — the disclaiming of all speculative opinion 
 as an essential to salvation, — the reference of faith to the af- 
 fections, not the understanding, are points in which I most 
 cordially concur with him ; earnestly wishing at the same time 
 that I was m all respects like him. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 12th March, 1821. 
 
 My dear Friend, — You were very good in writing me so 
 long a letter, and kind, in your own Robinsonian way. Your 
 determination to withdraw from your profession in sufficient 
 time for an autumnal harvest of leisure is of a piece with the 
 rest of your consistent resolves and practices. Consistent I 
 have said, and why not rational ? The w^ord would surely 
 have been added, had not I felt that it was awkwardly loading 
 the sentence, and so truth would have been sacrificed to a point 
 of taste, but for this compunction. Full surely you will do 
 well ; but take time ; it would be ungrateful to quit in haste 
 a profession that has used you so civilly. Would that I could 
 encourage the hope of passing a winter with you in Rome, 
 about the time you mention, which is just the period I should 
 myself select ! .... As to poetry, I am sick of it ; it over- 
 runs the country in all the shapes of the Plagues of Egypt, 
 
 — frog-poets (the Croakers), mice-poets (the Nibblers), a class 
 which Gray, in his dignified way, calls flies, the " insect youth," 
 
 — a term wonderfully applicable upon this occasion. But let 
 us desist, or we shall be accused of envying the rising genera- 
 tion. Mary and I passed some days at Cambridge, where, 
 
 VOL. I. 20 
 
458 RExMINlSCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 what with the company of my dear brother,* — - our stately 
 apartments, with all the venerable portraits there, that awe 
 one into humility, — old friends, new acquaintance, and a 
 hundred familiar remembrances, and freshly conjured up recol- 
 lections, I enjoyed myself not a little. I should like to lend 
 you a sonnet, composed at Cambridge ; but it is reserved for 
 cogent reasons, to be imparted in due time. Farewell ! happy 
 shall we be to see you. 
 
 Wm. Wordsworth. 
 
 April 16th, — (On a visit to the Pattissons at Witham.) I 
 walked to Hatfield t with William. Looked into the church, 
 — the Vicar, Bennet, was our cicerone. He spoke of Goldsmith 
 as a man he had seen. Goldsmith had lodged at Springfield, 
 with some farmers. He spent his forenoons in his room, 
 writing, and breakfasted off water-gruel, without bread. In 
 his manners he w^as a bear. — "A tame one," I observed, and 
 it was assented to. He dressed shabbily, and was an odd man. 
 No further particulars could I get, except that while Gold- 
 smith was there, a gentleman took down some cottages, which 
 Bennet supposes gave rise to the " Deserted Village." Bennet 
 pointed out to us the antiquities of his church ; among them 
 a recumbent statue, which every one believed was a woman, 
 till Flaxman came and satisfied him that it was a priest. 
 
 April 17th. — Hayter, a painter in crayons,! dined wuth us. 
 He is taking a likeness of Mr. Pattisson, and is certainly suc- 
 cessful as a portrait-painter. In other respects he is a 
 character. He is self-educated, but is a sensible man, and 
 blends humor with all he says. And his affection for his chil- 
 dren, one of whom is already a promising young artist, gives a 
 kind of dignity to his character. 
 
 June 12th. — I accompanied my brother and sister to Co- 
 vent Garden. We had a crowding to get there. It was 
 Liston's benefit. He played delightfully Sam Swipes in *' Ex- 
 change no Robbery," his knavish father passing him off as the 
 foster-son of a gentleman who had run aw^ay after intrustirig 
 
 * Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, Master of Trinity College, Cambridge. 
 
 t Hatfield Peverel, two miles from Witham. 
 
 X Mr. Charles Hayter, author of "A Treatise on Perspective,'' published in 
 1825, and generally considered successful in taking likenesses. He was the 
 father of the present Sir George Hayter and Mr. John Hayter, both distin- 
 guished portrait-painters, still living. Charles Haj'^ter lodged at Witham many 
 months during 1821. His price for such crayon drawings was ten guineas. 
 The picture above referred to is still in possession of the family. 
 
1821 ] A MISANTHROPIST DEFINED. — BURY JAIL. 459 
 
 him with the child. The supposed father was admirably rep- 
 resented by Farren. And these two performers afforded me 
 more pleasure than the theatre often gives me. 
 
 July 7th, — I was busied about many things this forenoon. 
 I went for a short time to the King's Bench. Then looked 
 over Hamond's papers, and went to Saunders's sale. Dined 
 hastily in Coleman Street, and then went to Mrs. Barbauld's, 
 where I was soon joined by Charles and Mary Lamb. This 
 was a meeting I had brought about to gratify mutual cu- 
 riosity. The Lambs are pleased with Mrs. Barbauld, and 
 therefore it is probable that they have pleased her. Mrs. C. 
 Aikin was there, and Miss Lawrence. Lamb was chatty, and 
 suited his conversation to his company, except that, speaking 
 of Gilbert Wakefield, he said he had a peevish face. When he 
 was told Mrs. Aikin was Gilbert Wakefield's daughter, he was 
 vexed, but got out of the scrape tolerably well. I walked with 
 the Lambs by the turnpike, and then came home, not to go to 
 bed, but to sit up till the Norwich coach should call for me. 
 I had several letters to write, which with packing, drinking 
 chocolate, &c. fully occupied my time, so that I had no ennui, 
 though I was unable to read. 
 
 Rem* — One evening, when I was at the Aikins', Charles 
 Lamb told a droll story of an India-house clerk accused of 
 eating man's flesh, and remarked that among cannibals those 
 who rejected the favorite dish would be called misanthropists. 
 
 July 23d. — Finished Johnson's " Hebrides." I feel ashamed 
 of the delight it once afforded me. The style is so pompous, 
 the thoughts so ordinary, w4th so little feeling, or imagination, 
 or knowledge. Yet I once admired it. What assurance have 
 I that I may not hereafter think as meanly of the books I now 
 admire ] 
 
 August 12th. — (Bury.) I went with Pryme f to see the jail, 
 which, notwithstanding its celebrity, I had not visited. There I 
 saw neither a filthy assemblage of wretches brought together to 
 be instructed for future crimes rather than punished for past, 
 nor a place of ease and comfort, inviting rather than deterring 
 to the criminal. The garden, yards, and buildings have an air 
 of great neatness ; but this can hardly be a recommendation 
 to the prisoners. They are separated by many subdivisions, 
 and constantly exposed to inspection. In the day they work 
 
 * Written in 1849. 
 
 t A fellow-circuiteer of H. C. R.'s, long M. P. for Cambridge. He died Dec 
 19, 1868. 
 
460 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 at a mill, and at night all are secluded. Each has his 
 little cell. The all-important thing is to avoid letting crimi- 
 nals be together in idleness. To a spectator there is nothing 
 offensive in this prison. And certainly if its arrangements 
 were followed universally, much misery would be prevented 
 and good service rendered to morality. 
 
 [In the autumn of this year Mr. Eobinson made a tour to 
 Scotland of a little over a month. The chief personal recollec- 
 tions are all that will be given here. — Ed.] 
 
 August 29th, — Visited Dry burgh Abbey. A day of interest, 
 apart from the beauties of my walk. Mrs. Masquerier had 
 given me a letter of introduction to the well-known Earl of Bu- 
 chan, — a character. He married her aunt, who was a Forbes, 
 Lord Buchan, who was advanced in years, had, by a life of 
 sparing, restored in a great measure the family from its sunken 
 state ; but, in doing this, he had to endure the reproach of 
 penurious habits, while his two younger brothers acquired a bril- 
 liant reputation : one was Lord Erskine, the most perfect of 
 nisi prius orators, and one of the poorest of English Chancel- 
 lors, — the other, Henry Erskine, the elder brother, enjoyed 
 a higher reputation among friends, but, in the inferior sphere 
 of the Scotch courts, could not attain to an equally wide-spreaxi 
 celebrity. Lord Buchan had been a dilettante in letters. He 
 had written a life of Thomson the poet, and of the patriotic 
 orator, Fletcher of Saltoun, the great opponent of the Scottish 
 union. 
 
 Before I was introduced to the Earl, I saw in the grounds 
 ample monuments of his taste and character. He received me 
 cordially. He being from home when I called, I left my let- 
 ter, and walked in the grounds. On my return, he himself 
 opened the door for me, and said to the servant : " Show Mr. 
 Robinson into his bedroom. You will spend the day here." 
 
 He was manifestly proud of his alliance with the royal 
 house of the Stuarts, but was not offended with the free manner 
 in which I spoke of the contemptible pedant James L of Eng- 
 land. He exhibited many relics of the unfortunate Mary ; 
 and (says my journal) enumerated to me many of his ancestors, 
 " whom my imperfect recollections would have designated 
 rather as infamous than illustrious." But no man of family 
 ever heartily despised birth. He was a stanch Whig, but had 
 long retired from politics. He was proud of his brother, the 
 great English orator, but lamented his acceptance of the Chan- 
 cellorship. " I wrote him a letter," said the Earl, " offering. 
 
U21.J ANTHONY ROBINSON, JUN. — BURKING. 461 
 
 if he would decline the office, to settle my estate on his eldest 
 son. Unluckily, he did not receive my letter until it was too 
 late, or he might have accepted my offer ; his mind was so 
 confused when he announced the fact of the appointment, that 
 he signed his letter ^ Buchan.'" 
 
 The next day I left Dryburgh, furnished with a useful lettei 
 to the Scotch antiquary and bookseller, David Laing, who ren- 
 dered me obliging offices at Edinburgh. I had also a letter to 
 the famous Sir James Sinclair, the agriculturist, which I was 
 not anxious to deliver, as in it I was foolishly characterized as 
 a "really learned person," this being pro vably false. ^' The 
 praises," says my journal, " usually contained in letters of the 
 kind one may swallow, because they never mean more than that 
 the writer likes the object of them." Lord Buchan offered me 
 a letter to Sir Walter Scott, which I declined. I found that 
 he had no liking for Sir Walter, and I was therefore sure that 
 Sir Walter had no liking for him ; and it is bad policy to de- 
 liver such letters. I regretted much that a letter from Words- 
 worth to Scott reached me too late ; that I should have rejoiced 
 to deliver. 
 
 My first concern at Edinburgh was to see Anthony 
 Robinson, Jun. He showed me such of the curiosities of the 
 place as were known to him. In his sitting-room I com- 
 plained of an offensive smell, which he explained by opening a 
 closet door, and producing some human limbs. He had bought 
 these of the resurrection-men. He afterwards disapjDeared ; 
 and on his father's death, a commission was sent to Scotland 
 to collect evidence respecting Anthony Robinson, Jun., from 
 which it was ascertained that he had not been heard of for 
 years. He had left his clothes, &c. at Perth, and had gone to 
 Edinburgh to continue his studies ; and it was at Edinburgh 
 that he was last heard of This being just before the dreadful 
 exposure took place of the murders effected by burking, my 
 speculation was that poor Anthony was one of the victims. 
 
 2d September {Sunday), — Mr. David Laing took me to hear 
 Dr. Thomson, a very eminent Scotch preacher, who had at 
 Edinburgh the like pre-eminence which Dr. Chalmers had at 
 Glasgow. But he appeared to me to be a mere orator, profiting 
 by a sonorous voice and a commanding countenance. This, 
 however, may be an erroneous judgment. 
 
 This same day originated an acquaintance of which I will 
 now relate the beginning and the end. Walking with Laing, he 
 pointed out to me a young man. " That," said he, " is James 
 
462 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26 
 
 Grahame, nephew of the poet of * The Sabbath.' " I begged 
 Laing to introduce me. His father's acquaintance I had made 
 at Mr. Clarkson's. This produced a very cordial reception, 
 and after spending a day (the 3d) in a walk to Roslin and 
 Hawthornden (of which, if I said anything on such subjects, I 
 should have much to say), I went to an evening party at Mr. 
 Grahame's. Laing was there, and my journal mentions a Sir 
 W. Hamilton, the same man, I have no doubt, who has lately 
 been involved in a controversy with our (University College) 
 Professor De Morgan on logic. My journal speaks of him as, 
 according to Laing, a young lawyer of brilliant talents, a pro- 
 found thinker, and conversant with German philosophy and 
 literature. 
 
 On the 9th of September an incident occurred especially 
 amusing in connection with what took place immediately 
 afterwards. I rose very early to see a new place, and (it wa3 
 between six and seven) seeing a large building, I asked a man, 
 who looked like a journeyman weaver, what it was. He told 
 me a grammar-school. '' But, sir," he added, '' I think it would 
 become you better on the Lord's day morning to be reading 
 your Bible at home, than asking about public buildings." I 
 very quickly answered : '^ My friend, you have given me a piece 
 of very good advice ; let me give you one, and we may both 
 profit by our meeting. Beware of spiritual pride." The 
 man scowled with a Scotch surliness, and, apparently, did not 
 take my counsel with as much good-humor as I did his. 
 
 It was after this that I heard Dr. Chalmers preach. In the 
 forenoon it was a plain discourse to plain people, in a sort of 
 school. In the afternoon it was a splendid discourse, in the 
 Tron Chiu-ch, against the Judaical observance of the Sabbath, 
 which he termed '' an expedient for pacifying the jealousies of 
 a God of vengeance," — reprobating the operose drudgery of 
 such Sabbaths. He represented the whole value of Sabbath 
 observance to lie in its being a free and willing service, — a 
 foretaste of heaven. " If you cannot breathe in comfort here, 
 you cannot breathe in heaven hereafter." Many years after- 
 wards, I mentioned this to Irving, who was then the colleague 
 of Chalmers, and already spoken of as his rival in eloquence, 
 and he told me that the Deacons waited on the Doctor to 
 remonstrate with him on the occasion of this sermon. 
 
 That I may conclude with Dr. Chalmers now, let me here 
 say, that I was as much gTatified with him as I was dissatisfied 
 with Andrew Thomson ; that he appeared absorbed in his 
 
lo2Lj WOKDSVVOUTH'S "BROWNIE." 463 
 
 subject, utterly free from ostentation, and forgetfril of himself. 
 I admired him highly, ranking hin; with Robert Hall ; but I 
 heard him once too often. On my return from the Highlands, 
 I heard him on the 30th of September, in the morning, on the 
 sin against the Holy Ghost, which he declared to be no par- 
 ticular sin, but a general indisposition to the Gospel. *^ It 
 can't be forgiven," he said, " because the sinner can't comply 
 with the condition, — desire to be forgiven." But it was the 
 evening sermon which left a painful impression on my mind. 
 He affirmed the doctrine of original sin in its most offensive 
 form. He declined to explain it. 
 
 The elder Mr. Grahame was one of the leading members of 
 the Doctor's congregation. He is very much like his son, only 
 milder, because older. He had another son, still living, and 
 whom I saw now and then. This was Tom Grahame, an 
 incarnation of the old Covenanter, a fierce radical and ultra- 
 Calvinist, who has a warm-hearted, free way, which softens his 
 otherwise bitter religious spirit. 
 
 On September 16th I had a little adventure. Being on the 
 western side of Loch Lomond, opposite the Mill, at Inversnaid, 
 some women kindled a fire, the smoke of which was to be a 
 signal for a ferry-boat. No ferryman came ; and a feeble old 
 man offering himself as a boatman, I intrusted myself to him. 
 I asked the women who he was. They said, " That 's old An- 
 drew." According to their account, he lived a hermit's life in 
 a lone island on the lake ; the poor peasantry giving him meal 
 and what he wanted, and he picking up pence. On my asking 
 him whether he would take me across the lake, he said, " I 
 wuU, if you '11 gi'e me saxpence." So I consented. But 
 before I was half over, I repented of my rashness, for I feared 
 the oars would fall out of his hands. A breath of wind would 
 have rendered half the voyage too much for him. There was 
 some cunning mixed up with the fellow's seeming imbecility, 
 for when his strength was failing he rested, and entered into 
 talk, manifestly to amuse me. He said he could see things 
 before they happened. He saw the Radicals before they came, 
 &c. He had picked up a few words of Spanish and German, 
 which he uttered ridiculously, and laughed. But when I put 
 troublesome questions, he affected not to understand me ; and 
 was quite astonished, as well as delighted, when I gave him 
 two sixpences instead of the one he had bargained for. The 
 simple-minded women, who affected to look down on him, 
 seemed, however, to stand in awe of him, and no wonder. On 
 
464 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 my telling Wordsworth this history, he exclaimed, " That 's 
 my * BroTVTiie.' " His " Brownie's Cell"* is by no means one 
 of my favorite poems. My sight of old Andrew showed me 
 the stuff out of which a poetical mind can weave such a web. 
 
 After visiting Stirling and Perth, I went to Crieff. On my 
 way I. met a little Scotch girl, who exhibited a favorable speci- 
 men of the national character. I asked the name of the gen- 
 tleman whose house I had passed, and put it down in my 
 pocket-book. " And do you go about putting people's names 
 in your book ?" — *' Yes." — " And what 's the use of it ] " 
 Now this was not said in an impertinent tone, as if she thought 
 I was doing a silly act, but in^the real spirit of naif inquiry. 
 
 On Saturday^ the, 22d of September ^ I went by Comrie to 
 Loch Earn head. On Sunday, the 23d, by Killin to Kenmore. 
 I put down names of places which I would gladly see again in 
 my old age. This day I witnessed a scene which still rests on 
 my eye and ear. I will abridge from my journal : "It was 
 in the forenoon, a few miles from Kenmore, when, on the high- 
 road, I was startled by a screaming noise, which I at first mis- 
 took for quarrelling ; till, coming to a hedge, which I over- 
 looked, I beheld a scene which the greatest of landscape-paint- 
 ers in the historic line might have delighted to represent. The 
 sombre hue cast over the field reminded me of Salvator Rosa. 
 I looked down into a meadow, at the bottom of which ran a 
 brook ; and in the backgi'ound there was a dark mountain 
 frowning over a lake somewhat rippled by wind. Against a 
 tree on the river's bank was placed a sort of box, and in this 
 was a preacher, declaiming in the Gaelic tongue to an audience 
 full of admiration. On the rising hill before him were some 
 two or three hundred listeners. Far the greater number were 
 lying in groups, but some standing. Among those present were 
 ladies genteelly dressed. In the harsh sounds which grated on 
 my ear I could not distinguish a word, except a few proper 
 names of Hebrew persons." 
 
 On September the 29th, from Lanark, I visited the Duke of 
 Hamilton's palace, and had unusual pleasure in the paintings 
 to be seen there. I venture to copy my remarks on the fa- 
 mous Rubens's " Daniel in the Lion's Den" : " The variety of 
 character in the lions is admirable. Here is indignation at the 
 unintelligible power which restrains them ; there reverence to- 
 wards the being whom they dare not touch. One of them is 
 
 * See Wordsworth's " Memorials of a Tour in Scotland in 1814," Vol. III. 
 p. 44. 
 
1821.] AMBLESIDE. — DE QUINCEY. 465 
 
 consoled by the contemplation of the last skull he has been 
 picking ; one is anticipating his next meal ; two are debating 
 the subject together. But the Prophet, with a face resembling 
 Curran's (foreshortened * so as to lose its best expression), has 
 all the muscles of his countenance strained from extreme ter- 
 ror. He is without joy or hope ; and though his doom is 
 postponed, he has no faith in the miracle which is to reward 
 his integrity. It is a painting rather to astonish than de- 
 light." 
 
 On the 1st of October I passed a place the name of which I 
 could not have recollected twelve hours but for the charm of 
 verse : — 
 
 " I wish I were where Ellen lies, 
 By fair Kirkconnel Lea." 
 
 On returning to England, a stout old lady, our coach com- 
 panion, rejoiced heartily that she was again in old England, a 
 mean rivulet being the insignificant boundary. This feeling 
 she persisted in retaining, though an act of disobedience to 
 the law which annihilated England as a state, and though our 
 supper was worse than any lately partaken of by any of us in 
 Scotland. 
 
 October Jfth, — I went to Ambleside, and for four days I was 
 either there or at Rydal Mount. My last year's journey in 
 Switzerland had improved my acquaintance with the Words- 
 worth family, and raised it to friendship. But my time w^as 
 short, and I have nothing to record beyond this fact, that Mrs. 
 Wordsworth w^as then in attendance upon a lady in a fever, 
 consequent on lying in, — Mrs. Quillinan, a lady I never 
 saw^, a daughter of Sir Egerton Brydges. 
 
 October 7th. — My journal mentions (what does not belong 
 to my recollections, but to my obliviscences) an able pamphlet 
 by Mr. De Quincey against Brougham, written during the late 
 election, entitled, " Close Comments on a Straggling Speech," 
 a capital title, at all events. All that De Quincey WTote, or 
 
 * Daniel's head is thrown back, and he looks upwards with an earnest 
 expression and clasped hands, as if vehemently supplicating. The picture 
 formerly belonged to King Charles I. It was at that time entered as fol- 
 lows in'the Catnlogue of the Royal Pictures: " A piece of Daniel in the Lion's 
 Den with lions about him. given bvthe deceased Lord Dorchester to the King, 
 being so big as the life. Done by Sir Peter Paul Rubens." Dr. Waagen very 
 justly obsei-ves that, upon the whole, the figure of Daniel is only an accessory 
 employed by the great master to introduce, in the most perfect form, nine 
 figures of lions and lionesses the size of life. Rubens, in a letter to Sir Dud- 
 ley Carleton (who presented the picture to the King), dated April 28, 1618, ex- 
 pressly states that it was wholly his own workmanship. The price was 600 
 florins*. Engraved in mezzotint bv W. Ward, 1789. 
 20* 
 
466 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 writes, is ciu-ious, if not valuable ; commencing with his best- 
 known " Confessions of an English Opiutn-Eater," and ending 
 with his scandalous but painfully interesting *^ Autobiography," 
 in TaWs Magazine, 
 
 October 23d. — To London on the Bury coach, and enjoyed 
 the ride. Storks, Dover, Rolfe, and Andrews were inside play- 
 ing whist. I w^as outside reading. I read Cantos III., IV., 
 and V. of " Don Juan." I was amused by parts. There is a 
 gayety which is agreeable enough when it is playful and ironi- 
 cal, and here it is less malignant than it is in some of Byron's 
 writings. The gross violations of decorum and morality one 
 is used to. I felt no resentment at the lines, 
 
 *' A drowsy, frowzy poem called ' The Excursion,' 
 Writ in a manner which is my aversion,'' * 
 
 nor at the affected contempt throughout towards Wordsworth. 
 There are powerful descriptions, and there is a beautiful Hymn 
 to Greece. I began Madame de Stael's " Ten Years' Exile." 
 She writes with eloquence of Buonaparte, and her egotism is by 
 no means off'ensive. 
 
 October 26th, — Met Charles Aikin. I saw he had a hatband, 
 and he shocked me by the intelligence of his wife's death. I 
 saw her a few days before I set off on my journey. She then 
 appeared to be in her usual health. The conversation between 
 us was not remarkable ; but I never saw her without pleasure, 
 or left her without a hope I should see her again. She was a 
 very amiable woman. She brought to the family a valuable 
 accession of feeling. To her I owe my introduction to Mrs. 
 Barbauld. I have been acquainted with her, though without 
 great intimacy, twenty-four years. She was Gilbert Wakefield's 
 eldest daughter, and not much younger than myself 
 
 November 2d. — Finished Madame de Stael's " Ten Years' 
 Exile." A very interesting book in itself, and to me especially 
 interesting on account of my acquaintance with the author. 
 Her sketches of Russian manners and society are very spirited, 
 and her representation of her own sufferings under Buonaparte's 
 persecutions is as eloquent as her novels. The style is ani- 
 mated, and her declamations against Napoleon are in her best 
 manner. 
 
 November 7th. — Called on De Quincey to speak about the 
 Classical Journal, I have recommended him to Valpy, who 
 will be glad of his assistance. De Quincey speaks highly of 
 
 * '* Don Juan/' Canto III. v. 94. 
 
1821.] LORD MAYOR'S DINNER. 467 
 
 the liberality of Taylor and Hessey, who gave him forty guineas 
 for his '^ Opium Eater." 
 
 Ncrvemher 9th. — Dined at Guildhall. About five hundred 
 persons present, perhaps six hundred. The tables were in five 
 lines down the hall. Gas illumination. The company all well 
 dressed at least. The ornaments of the hustings, with the 
 cleaned statues, &c., rendered the scene an imposing one. I 
 dined in the King's Bench, a quiet place, and fitter for a sub- 
 stantial meal than the great hall. I was placed next to Croly 
 (newspaper writer and poet), and near several persons of whom 
 I knew something, so that I did not want for society. Our 
 dinner was good, but ill-served and scanty. As soon as we had 
 finished a hasty dessert, 1 went into the great hall, where I was 
 amused by walking about. I ascended a small gallery at the 
 top of the hall, whence the view below w^as very fine ; and I 
 afterwards chatted with Firth, <fec. Some dozen judges and 
 sergeants were really ludicrous objects in their full-bottomed 
 wigs and scarlet robes. The Dukes of York and Wellington, 
 and several Ministers of State, gave eclat to the occasion. 
 
 November 18th. — I stepped into the Lambs' cottage at Dal- 
 ston. Mary, pale and thin, just recovered from one of her at- 
 tacks. They have lost their brother John, and feel their loss. 
 They seemed softened by affliction, and to wish for society. 
 
 Poor old. Captain Burney died on Saturday. The rank 
 Captain had become a misnomer, but I cannot call him other- 
 wise. He was made Admiral a few weeks ago. He was a fine 
 old man.* His whist parties were a great enjoyment to me. 
 
 December 11th, — Dined with Monkhouse. Tom Clarkson 
 went with me. The interest of the evening arose from MSS. 
 of poems by Wordsworth, on the subject of our journey. After 
 waiting so long without writing anything, — so at least I under- 
 stood when in Cumberland, — the fit has come on him, and 
 within a short time he has composed a number of delightful 
 little poems ; and Miss Hutchison wTites to Mr. Monkhouse 
 that he goes on writing with great activity, f 
 
 December Slst, — At Flaxman's, w^here I spent several hours 
 very pleasantly. We talked of animal magnetism. Flaxman 
 declared he believed it to be fraud and imposition, an opinion 
 
 * The circumnavigator of tlie world with Captain Cook, and historian of 
 circumnavigation. A humorous old man, friend of Charles Lamb, son of Dr. 
 Burney, and brother of Madame d' Arblav. Martin Burnev was his son. — H. 
 C. R. 
 
 t These poems have been referred to in connection with the tour wlubh 
 sucrorested tnem. 
 
468 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 I was not prepared for from him. But the conversation led to 
 some very singular observations on his part, which show a state 
 of mind by no means unfit for the reception of the new doctrine. 
 He spoke of his dog's habit of fixing her eye upon him when she 
 wanted food, &c., so that he could not endure the sight, and was 
 forced to drive her away : this he called an animal power ; and 
 he intimated also a belief in demoniacal influence ; so that it 
 was not clear to me that he did not think that animal magne- 
 tism was somewhat criminal, allowing its pretensions to be well 
 founded, rather than supposing them to be vain. There is fre- 
 quently an earnestness that becomes uncomfortable to listen to 
 when Flaxman talks with religious feeling. 
 
 Eem,^ — My Diary mentions " John Wood, a lively genteel 
 young man ! " Now he is a man of importance in the state, 
 being the Chairman of the Board of Inland Revenue. He was 
 previously the head of the Stamp Office and Chairman of Ex- 
 cise. In the latter capacity he lately effected great economical 
 reforms. He is a rare example of independence and courage, 
 not renouncing the profession of his unpopular religious opin- 
 ions. 
 
 My practice this year was as insignificant as ever, even fall- 
 ing off in the amount it produced j the fees being 572 J guineas, 
 whereas in 1820 they were 663. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 1822. 
 
 JANUAPY 10th. — At twelve Monkhouse called. I walked 
 with him and had a high treat in a call at Chantrey's, hav- 
 ing to speak with him about Wordsworth's bust. What a con- 
 trast to Flaxman ! A sturdy, florid-looking man, with a gen- 
 eral resemblance in character to Sir Astley Cooper, both look- 
 ing more like men of business and the world than artists or 
 students. Chantrey talks with the ease of one who is familiar 
 with good company, and with the confidence of one who is 
 conscious of his fame. His study is rich in works of art. His 
 busts are admirable. His compositions do not in general please 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
1822.] DREAMS AND PROGNOSTICS. 469 
 
 me. He has in hand a fine monument of Ellenborough. A 
 good likeness too.* 
 
 January 22d, — I went into court on account of a single 
 defence, which unexpectedly came on immediately, and having 
 succeeded in obtaining an acquittal. I was able to leave Bury 
 by the " Day " coach. I had an agreeable ride, the weather 
 being mild. I finished " Herodotus," a book which has greatly 
 amused me. The impression most frequently repeated during 
 the perusal was that of the compatibility of great moral wis- 
 dom with gross superstition. It is impossible to deny that 
 ** Herodotus " encourages by his silence, if not by more express 
 encouragement, the belief in outrageous fictions. The fre- 
 quency of miracle in all ancient history is unfavorable to the 
 belief of that affirmed in the Jewish history. This book in- 
 spires a salutary horror of political despotism, but at the same 
 time a dangerous contempt of men at large, and an uncomfort- 
 able suspicion of the pretensions of philosophers and patriots. 
 
 February 25th. — I went to Aders's, and found him and his 
 wife alone. An interesting conversation. Mrs. Aders talked 
 in a tone of religion which I was pleased with. At the same 
 time she showed a tendency to superstition which I could only 
 wonder at. She has repeatedly had dreams of events which 
 subsequently occurred, and sometimes with circumstances that 
 rendered the 'coincidence both significant and wonderful. One 
 is remarkable, and worth relating. She dreamed, when in Ger- 
 many, that a great illumination took place, of what kind she 
 was not aware. Two luminous balls arose. In one she saw 
 her sister, Mrs. Longdale, with an infant child in her arms. 
 On the night of the illumination on account of the Coronation 
 (years after the dream), she was called by Miss Watson into 
 the back drawing-room, to see a ball or luminous body which 
 had been let off at Hampstead. She went into the room, and 
 on a sudden it flashed on her mind with painful feelings, " This 
 was what I saw in my dream." That same evening her sister 
 died. She had been lately brought to bed. The child lived. 
 
 * Chantrey was an excellent bust-maker, and he executed ably. He 
 wanted poetry and imagination. The Children in Lichfield Cathedral, which 
 might have given him reputation with posterity, were the design of Stothard. 
 It is to Chantrey' s high honor that he left a large portion of his ample fortune, 
 after the death of his widow, for the encouragement of fine art, and made for 
 that purpose wise arrangements. Lady Chantrey gave all his casts, &c. to 
 Oxford University, where they constitute a gallery. Asking Rogers its value 
 lately, he said: " As a collection of historical portraits, they are of great val- 
 ue; as works of art, that;' snapping his fingers. — H. C. R. * 
 
470 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. L^"ap. 26. 
 
 H. G. R. TO Miss Wordsworth. 
 
 3 King's Bench, 25th February, 1822. 
 I am indeed a very bad correspondent, but a long foolscap 
 letter was written more than a fortnight back, when I met Mr. 
 Monkhouse, and he told me what rendered my letter utterly 
 inexpedient, for it was an earnest exhortation to you and Mrs. 
 Wordsworth to urge the publication of the delightful poems, 
 which is now done ; and the expression of a wish that one of 
 the Journals might appear also, and that would be in vain. I 
 am heartily glad that so many imperishable records will be left 
 of incidents which I had the honor of partially enjoying with 
 you. The only drawback on my pleasiu-e is, that I fear when 
 the book is once published, Mr. Wordsworth may no longer be 
 inclined to meditate on what he saw and felt, and therefore 
 much may remain unsaid which would probably have appeared 
 in the Memorials, if they had been delayed till 1823. I hope 
 I have not seen all, and I should rejoice to find among the un- 
 seen poems some memorial of those patriotic and pious bridges 
 at Lucerne, suggesting to so generative a mind as your broth- 
 er's a whole cycle of religious and civic sentiments. The 
 equally affecting Senate-house not made by hands, at Sarnen, 
 where the rites of modern legislation, like those of ancient re- 
 ligion, are performed in the open air, and on an unadorned 
 grass-plat ! ! ! But the poet needs no prompter ; I shall be 
 grateful to him for what he gives, and have no right to reflect 
 on what he withholds. I wish he may have thought proper to 
 preface each poem by a brief memorandum in prose. Like the 
 great poet of Germany, with whom he has so many high 
 powers in common, he has a strange love of riddles. Goethe 
 carries further the practice of not giving collateral information : 
 he seems to anticipate the founding of a college for the de- 
 livery of explanatory lectures like those instituted in Tuscany 
 for Dante. 
 
 • • • . . 
 
 My last letter, which I destroyed, was all about the poems. 
 I have not the vanity to think that my praise can gratify, but 
 I ought to say, since the verses to Goddard w^ere my sugges- 
 tion, that I rejoice in my good deed. It is instructive to ob- 
 serve how a poet sees and feels, how remote from ordinary 
 sentiment, and yet how beautiful and true ! Goethe says he 
 had never an affliction which he did not turn into a poem. Mr. 
 Wordsworth has shown how common occurrences are trans- 
 
1822.] THE LAMBS AND THEIR GRIEF. 471 
 
 muted into poetry. Midas is the type of a true poet. Of the 
 Stanzas, I love most — loving all — the ** Eclipse of the Sun." 
 Of the Sonnets, there is one remarkable as unique ; the humor 
 and naivete, and the exquisitely refined sentiment of the Ca- 
 lais fishwomen, are a combination of excellences quite novel. 
 1 should, perhaps, have given the preference after all to the 
 Jungfrau Sonnet, but it wants unity. I know not which to dis- 
 tinguish, the Simplon Stone, the Bruges, or what else % I have 
 them not here. Each is the best as I recollect the impression 
 it made on me 
 
 Miss Wordsworth to H. C. R 
 
 3d March, 1822. 
 My brother will, I hope, write to Charles Lamb in the 
 course of a few days. He has long talked of doing it ; but you 
 know how the mastery of his own thoughts (when engaged in 
 composition, as he has lately been) often prevents him from 
 fulfilling his best intentions ; and since the weakness of his 
 eyes has returned, he has been obliged to fill up all spaces of 
 leisure by going into the open air for refreshment and relief 
 of his eyes. We are very thankful that the inflammation, 
 chiefly in the lids, is now much abated. It concerns us very 
 much to hear so indifferent an account of Lamb and his sis- 
 ter ; the death of their brother, no doubt, has afflicted them 
 much more than the death of any brother, with whom there 
 had, in near neighborhood, been so little personal or family 
 communication, would afflict any other minds. We deeply 
 lamented their loss, and washed to write to them as soon as we 
 heard of it ; but it not being the particular duty of any one of 
 us, and a painful task, we put it off, for which we are now 
 Sony, and very much blame ourselves. They are too good 
 and" too confiding to take it unkindly, and that thought 
 
 makes us feel it the mrre With respect to the tour 
 
 poems, I am afraid you will think my brother's notes not 
 sufficiently copious ; jprefaces he has none, except to the poem 
 on Goddard's death. Your suggestion of the Bridge at 
 Lucerne set his mind to work ; and if a happy mood comes on 
 he is determined even yet, though the work is printed, to add 
 a poem on that subject. You can have no idea with what 
 earnest pleasure he seized the idea ; yet, before he began to 
 WTite at all, when he was pondering over his recollections, and 
 asking me for hints and thoughts, I mentioned that very sub- 
 
472 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 ject, and he then thought he could make nothing of it. You 
 certainly have the gift of setting him on fire. When I named 
 (before your letter was read to him) your scheme for next 
 autumn, his countenance flushed with pleasure, and he ex- 
 claimed, " 1 11 go with him." Presently, however, the con- 
 versation took a sober turn, and he concluded that the jour- 
 ney would be impossible ; ** And then," said he, " if you or 
 Mary, or both, were not with me, I should not half enjoy it ; 
 and that is impossible." .... We have had a long and 
 interesting letter from Mrs. Clarkson. Notwithstanding bad 
 times, she writes in cheerful spirits and talks of coming into 
 the North this summer, and we really hope it will not end 
 in talk, as Mr. Clarkson joins with her ; and if he once 
 determines, a trifle will not stop him. Pray read a paper 
 in the London Magazine, by Hartley Coleridge, on the Uses 
 of the Heathen Mythology in Poetry. It has pleased us 
 very much. The style is wonderful for so young a man, — 
 
 so little of effort and no affectation 
 
 Dorothy Wordsworth. 
 
 March 1st, — Came home early from Aders's to read " Cain." 
 The author has not advanced any novelties in his speculations 
 on the origin of evil, but he has stated one or two points with 
 great effect. The book is calculated to spread infidelity by 
 furnishing a ready expression to difficulties which must occur 
 to every one, more or less, and which are passed over by those 
 who confine themselves to scriptural representations. The 
 second act is full of poetic energy, and there is some truth of 
 passion in the scenes between Cain's wife and himself. 
 
 April 8th, — I had a very pleasant ride to London from 
 Bury. The day was fine, and was spent in reading half a 
 volume of amusing gossip, — D'Israeli on the literary character, 
 in which the good and evil of that by me most envied character 
 are displayed so as to repress envy without destroying respect. 
 Yet I would, after all, gladly exchange some portion of my 
 actual enjoyments for the intenser pleasures of a more intel- 
 lectual kind, though blended with pains and sufferings from 
 which I am free. 
 
 April 10th. — As I sat down to dinner, a young man intro- 
 duced himself to me by saying, " My name is Poel." — "A son 
 of my old friend at Altona ! " I answered ; and I was heartily 
 glad to see him. Indeed the sight of him gave my mind such 
 a turn, that I could scarcely attend to the rest of the company. 
 
 i 
 
'LAXMAN AMONG STATESMEN. 
 
 473 
 
 Poel was but a boy in 1807. No wonder, therefore, that I 
 had no recollection of him. He, however, recognized me in a 
 moment, and he says I do not appear in the slightest degree 
 altered. I should have had a much heartier pleasure in seeing 
 him had I not known that his mother died but a few months 
 ago. She was a most amiable and a superior w^oman. The 
 father is now advanced in years, but he retains, the son tells 
 me, all his former zeal for liberty.* 
 
 April 13th, — Took tea with the Flaxmans, and read to them 
 extracts from Wordsworth's new poems, ^" The Memorials." 
 And I ended the evening by going to Drury Lane to see 
 " Giovanni in London," a very amusing extravaganza. Madame 
 Vestris is a fascinating creature, and renders the Don as enter- 
 taining as possible. And at the same time there is an air of 
 irony and mere w^anton and assumed wickedness, w^hich renders 
 the piece harmless enough. The parodies on well-known 
 songs, &c. are well executed. 
 
 April 29th. — Walked to Hammersmith and back. On my 
 way home I fell into chat w^ith a shabby-looking fellow, a 
 master-bricklayer, whose appearance was that of a very low 
 person, but his conversation quite surprised me. He talked 
 about trade with the knowledge of a practical man of business, 
 enlightened by those principles of political economy which 
 indeed are become common ; but I did not think they had 
 alighted on the hod and trowel. He did not talk of the books 
 of Adam Smith, but seemed imbued with their spirit. 
 
 May 7th. — I took tea with the Flaxmans. Flaxman related 
 with undesigned humor some circumstances of the dinner of 
 the Royal Academy on Saturday. He was seated between 
 Cabinet Ministers ! Such a man to be placed near and 
 to be expected to hold converse w^ith Lord Liverpool and 
 the Marquis of Londonderry, the Duke of Wellington, and 
 Chateaubriand ! A greater contrast cannot be conceived than 
 between an artist absorbed in his aii:, of the simplest manners, 
 the purest morals, incapable of intrigue or artifice, a genius in 
 his art, of pious feelings and an unworldly spirit, and a set of 
 statesmen and courtiers ! The only part of the conversation 
 he gave was a dispute whether spes makes spei in the genitive, 
 which was referred to the Chief Justice of the King's Bench. 
 Flaxman spoke favorably of the conversation and manners 
 of Lord Harrowby. 
 
 May 18th, — Took tea w ith the Nashes, and accompanied 
 
 * See ante^ p. 153. 
 
474 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY ORABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 Elizabeth and Martha to Mathews's Mimetic Exhibition. I 
 was delighted with some parts. In a performance of three 
 hours' duration there could not fail to be flat and uninteresting 
 scenes ; e. g. his attempt at representing Curran was a com- 
 plete failure. I was much pleased with a representation of 
 John Wilkes admonishing him, Mathews, when bound appren- 
 tice ; Tate Wilkinson's talking on three or four subjects at once, 
 and an Irish party at whist. I really do believe he has seen 
 
 F , so completely has he copied his voice and his words. 
 
 These were introduced in a sort of biography of himself In 
 a second part of the entertainment, three characters were per- 
 fect, — a servant scrubbing his miserly master's coat, a French 
 music-master in the character of Cupid in a ballet, and (the 
 very best) a steward from a great dinner-party relating the 
 particulars of the dinner. He was half drunk, and, I know 
 not how, Mathews so completely changed his face that he was 
 not to be known again. The fat Welshman, the miser, and the 
 lover, were less successful. 
 
 May 22d. — I read a considerable part of Ritson's " Robin 
 Hood Ballads," recommendable for the information they com- 
 municate concerning the state of society, rather than for the 
 poetry, which is, I think, far below the average of our old 
 ballads. 
 
 May 23d. — Visited Stonehenge, a very singular and most 
 remarkable monument of antiquity, exciting surprise by the 
 display of mechanical power, which baffles research into its 
 origin and purposes, and leaves an impression of wonder that 
 such an astonishing work should not have preserved the name 
 of its founders. Such a fragment of antiquity favors the 
 speculation of Schelling, and the other German metaphysi- 
 cians, concerning a bygone age of culture and the arts and 
 sciences. 
 
 June 1st. — Hundleby sent me, just before I went to dinner, 
 papers, in order to argue at ten on Monday morning before the 
 Lords (the Judges being summoned) the famous case of John- 
 stone and Hubbard, or, in the Exchequer Chamber, Hubbard 
 and Johnstone, in which the Exchequer Chamber reversed the 
 decision of the King's Bench, the question being on the effect of 
 the Registry Acts on sales of ships at sea. This case had been 
 argued some seven or eight times in the courts below, among 
 others, by two of the Judges (Richardson and Parke), and had 
 been pending fourteen years (the first action, indeed, against 
 Hubbard was in 1803). And on such a case I was to prepare 
 
1822.] APPEAL CASE BEFORE THE LORDS. 475 
 
 myself in a few hours, because Littledale, who had attended the 
 Lords three times, could not prepare himself for want of time ! 
 No wonder that I took books into bed, and was in no very com- 
 fortable mood. 
 
 June 3d, — I rose before five and had the case on my mind 
 till past nine, when Hundleby called. He took me down to 
 Westminster in a boat. There I found Carr in attendance. A 
 little after ten I was called on, and I began my argument before 
 the Chancellor, Lord Redesdale, one bishop, and nearly all the 
 Judges. I w^as nervous at first, but in the course of my argu- 
 ment I gained courage, and Manning, who attended without 
 telling me he should do so (an act of such kindness and 
 friendship as I shall not soon forget), having whispered a word 
 of encouragement, I concluded with tolerable comfort and sat- 
 isfaction. 
 
 In the course of my argument I said one or two bold things. 
 Having referred to a late decision of the King s Bench, which 
 is, in effect, a complete overruling of the case tlien before the 
 Lords (Richardson v. Campbell, 5 B. and A. 196), I said : "My 
 learned friend will say that the cases are different. And they 
 are different : the Lord Chief Justice, in giving judgment, says 
 so. My Lords, since the short time that I have been in the 
 profession, nothing has excited my admiration so much as the 
 mingled delicacy and astuteness with which the learned Judges 
 of one court avoid overruling the decisions of other courts. 
 (Here Richardson, Parke, and Bailey smiled, and the Chancellor 
 winked.) It would be indecorous in me to insinuate, even if I 
 dared to imagine, what the opinion of the Judges of the King's 
 Bench is ; but I beg your Lordships to consider whether the 
 reasoning of Lord Chief Justice Abbott applies to that part of 
 the case in which it differs from the case before the House, or 
 to that in which the cases are the same." I afterwards com- 
 mented on a mistake arising from confounding the words of 
 the statute of W. and those of 34 George III., and said : '* This 
 mistake has so pervaded the profession, that the present re- 
 porters have put a false quotation into the lips of the Chief 
 Justice," I knowing that the Chief Justice himself supplied the 
 report. 
 
 After I had finished, Carr began his answer. But in a few 
 minutes the Chancellor found that the special verdict was im- 
 perfectly framed, and directed a venire de novo (i. e. a new 
 trial). Carr and I are to consent to amend it. Carr said to 
 me very kindly : " on his honor, that he thought I had argued 
 
476 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 it better than any one on my side." Manning, too, said I had 
 done it very well, and the Chancellor, on mj observing how 
 unprepared my client was to make alterations, said : *^ You 
 have done so well at a short notice, that I have no doubt you 
 will manage the rest very well." As Hundleby, too, was sat- 
 isfied, I came away enjoying myself without being at all gay, 
 like a man escaped from peril. I was, after all, by no means 
 satisfied with myself, and ascribed to good-nature the compli- 
 ments I had received. 
 
 June Jftlu — Went for half the evening to Drury Lane. The 
 few songs in the piece (the ^^ Castle of Andalusia ") were sung 
 by Braham, viz. " All 's Well," and " Victory," songs sung by 
 him on all occasions and on no occasion, but they cannot be 
 heard too often. 
 
 June 9th. — Went to the Lambs'. Talfourd joined me there. 
 I was struck by an observation of Miss Lamb's, " How stupid 
 those old people are ! " Perhaps my nephew's companions say 
 so of my brother and me already. Assuredly they will soon say 
 BO. Talfourd and I walked home together late. 
 
 June 17th, — I went to call on the Lambs and take leave, 
 they setting out for France next morning. I gave Miss Lamb 
 a letter for Miss Williams, to whom I sent a copy of ** Mrs. 
 Leicester's School." * The Lambs have a Frenchman as their 
 companion, and Miss Lamb's nurse, in case she should be ill. 
 Lamb was in high spirits; his sister rather nervous. Her 
 courage in going is great. 
 
 June 29th. — Read to-day in the Vienna Jahrhiicher der 
 Z^Yera^wr a very learned and profound article on the history 
 of the creation in Genesis. I was ashamed of my ignorance. 
 Schlegel defends the Mosaic narrative, but understands it in a 
 higher sense than is usually given to the history. His ideas 
 are very curious. He supposes man to have been created be- 
 tween the last and last but one of the many revolutions the 
 earth has undergone, and adopts the conjecture, that the 
 Deluge was occasioned by a change in the position of the equa- 
 tion, which turned the sea over the dry land, and caused the 
 bed of the ocean to become dry. He also supposes chaos not 
 to have been created by God, but to have been the effect of 
 sin in a former race of creatures ! Of all this I know nothing. 
 Perhaps no man can usefully indulge in such speculations, but 
 it is at least honorable to attempt them. 
 
 July 18th. — I finished " Sir Charles Grandison," a book of 
 
 A set of Tales by Mary Lamb, with three contributed by her brother. 
 
I 
 
 1822.] LONG VACATION TOUR. 477 
 
 great excellence, and which must have improved the moral 
 character of the age. Saving the somewhat surfeiting com- 
 pliments of the good people, it has not a serious fault. The 
 formality of the dialogue and style is soon rendered endurable 
 by the substantial worth of what is said. In all the subordi- 
 nate incidents Sir Charles is certainly a beau ideal of a Chris- 
 tian and a gentleman united. The story of Clementina is the 
 glory of the work, and is equal to anything in any language. 
 
 [Mr. Kobinson's tour this year was principally in the South 
 of France. He kept a journal, as usual. A few extracts will 
 be given, but no connected account of the journey.] 
 
 August 10th. — At 7 A. M. I embarked on board the Lord 
 Melville steam-packet off the Tower Stairs, London. Our de- 
 parture was probably somewhat retarded, and certainly ren- 
 dered even festive, by the expected fete of the day. The King 
 was to set out on his voyage to Scotland, and the City Com- 
 panies' barges had been suddenly ordered to attend him at 
 Gravesend. The river was therefore thronged with vessels of 
 every description, and the gaudy and glittering barges of the 
 Lord Mayor and some four or five of the Companies' gave a 
 character to the scene. The appearance of unusual bustle 
 continued until we reached Gravesend, near which the Royal 
 Sovereign yacht was lying in readiness for his Majesty. The 
 day was fme, which heightened the effect of the show. At 
 Greenwich, the crowds on land were immense ; at Gravesend, 
 the show was lost. Of the rest of the prospect I cannot say 
 much. The Thames is too wide for the shore, which is low 
 and uninteresting. The few prominent objects were not par- 
 ticularly gratifying to me. The most remarkable was a group 
 of gibbets, with the fragments of skeletons hanging on them. 
 A few churches, the Reculvers, and the town of Margate, were 
 the great features of the picture. 
 
 August 20th. — (Paris.) Mary Lamb has begged me to give 
 her a day or two. She comes to Paris this evening, and stays 
 here a week. Her only male friend is a Mr. Payne, whom she 
 praises exceedingly for his kindness and attentions to Charles. 
 He is the author of *' Brutus," and has a good face. 
 
 August 21st — (With Mary Lamb.) When Charles went 
 back to England he left a note for his sister's direction. After 
 pointing out a few pictures in the Louvre, he proceeds : " Then 
 you must walk all along the borough side of the Seine, facing 
 the Tuileries, There is a mile and a half of print-shops and 
 bookstalls. If the latter were but English ! Then there is a 
 
478 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 place where the Paris people put all their dead people, and 
 bring them flowers, and dolls, and gingerbread-nuts, and son- 
 nets, and such trifles ; and that is all, I think, w^orth seeing as 
 sights, except that the streets and shops of Paris are them- 
 selves the best sight." I had not seen this letter when I took 
 Mary Lamb a walk that corresponds precisely with Lamb's 
 taste, all of whose likings I can always sympathize with, but 
 not generally with his dislikings. 
 
 August 22(1, — Aders introduced me to Devon, a very 
 Frenchman, but courteous and amiable, lively and intelligent. 
 He accompanied us to Marshal Soult's house. But the Mar- 
 shal was not at home. He would have been a more interest- 
 ing object than the Spanish pictures which were his plunder 
 in the kidnapping war. Though the paintings by Murillo and 
 Velasquez were very interesting, I omit all mention of them. 
 But being taken to Count Sommariva's, I there saw what has 
 never been equalled by any other work of Canova, though this 
 was an early production, the Mary Magdalene sitting on a 
 cross. The truth and homely depth of feeling in the expres- 
 sion are very striking. 
 
 On the 2d of September I left Grenoble, and after a hot and 
 fatiguing journey of tw^o nights and three days, partly through 
 a very beautiful country, I reached Marseilles. 
 
 This journey was rendered interesting by the companions I 
 had in the diligence. A religieuse from Grenoble, and two 
 professors of theology. One of them. Professor R- , es- 
 pecially an ingratiating man. He praised the lately published 
 '* Essai sur Flndiflerence en Matiere de Religion," and offered 
 me a copy. But I promised to get it. 
 
 Rem,* — This I did. It was the famous work of De La- 
 mennais, of which only two volumes were then published. A 
 book of great eloquence, by a writer who has played a sad part 
 in his day. From being the ultramontanist, and exposing him- 
 self to punishment in France as the libeller of the Eglise 
 Gallicane, he became the assailant of the Pope, and an ultra- 
 radical, combining an extreme sentimental French chartism 
 w^ith a spiritualism of his own. He has of late years been the 
 associate of George Sand. Her "Spiridion," it is said, was 
 written when travelling with him. 
 
 September Jfth, — It was during this night, and perhaps be- 
 tween two and three, that we passed the town of Manosque, 
 where a new passenger was taken in, who announced his office as 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
1822.] BON MOT OF TALLEYRAND. 479 
 
 Frocureur du Roi to the people in a tone which made me fear 
 we should meet with an assuming companion. On the con- 
 trary, he contributed to render the day very agreeable. 
 
 I talked law with him, and obtained interesting information 
 concerning the proceedings in the French administration of 
 justice. It appears that within his district — there are about 
 500 Prociireurs du Roi in the country — he has the superin- 
 tendence of all the criminal business. When a robbery or 
 other oifence is committed, the parties come to him. He re- 
 ceives the complaint, and sends the gendarmerie in search of the 
 offender. When a murder or act of arson has been perpe- 
 trated, he repairs to the spot. In short, he is a sort of coro- 
 ner and high sheriff as well as public prosecutor, and at the 
 public expense he carries on the suit to conviction or acquittal. 
 
 On inquiry of the steps he would take on information that 
 a person had been killed in a duel, he said, that if he found a 
 man had killed his adversary in the defence of his person, he 
 should consider him as innocent, and not put him on his trial. 
 I asked, " If you find the party killed in a/a^> duel, what then'? '* 
 — " Take up my papers and go home, and perhaps play a rub- 
 ber at night with the man who had killed his adversary." I am 
 confident of these words, for thev made an impression on me. 
 But I think the law is altered now. 
 
 October Jfth, — W^e had for a short distance in the diligence 
 an amusing young priest, — the only lively man of his cloth I 
 have seen in France. He told anecdotes with great glee ; 
 among others the following : — 
 
 When Madame de Stael put to Talleyrand the troublesome 
 question what he would have done had he seen her and Ma- 
 dame de Recamier in danger of drowning, instead of the cer- 
 tainly uncharacteristic and sentimental speech commonly put 
 into his lips as the answer, viz. that he should have jumped 
 into the water and saved Madame de Stael, and then jumped 
 in and died wdth Madame de Recamier, — instead of this, 
 Talleyrand's answer was, " Ah ! Madame de Stael salt tant de 
 choses que sans doute elle pent nager ! " 
 
 October ISth. — At home. I had papers and letters to look 
 at, though in small quantity. My nephew came and break- 
 fasted w^ith me. He did not bring the news, for Burch of 
 Canterbury had informed me of his marriage with Miss 
 Hutchison. I afterwards saw Manning ; also Talfourd, who 
 w^as married to Miss Rachel Rutt during the long vacation. 
 
 October 14th. — I rode to Norwich on the " Day coach," 
 
480 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 and was nearly all the time occupied in reading the Abbe De 
 Lamennais' *' Essai sur 1' Indifference," an eloquent and very 
 able work against religious indifference, in which, however, he 
 advocates the cause of Popery, without in the slightest degree 
 accommodating himself to the spirit of the age. He treats 
 alike Lutherans, Socinians, Deists, and Atheists. I have not 
 yet read far enough to be aware of his proofs in favor of his 
 own infallible Church, and probably that is assumed, not 
 proved ; but his skill is very great and masterly in exposing 
 infidelity, and especially the inconsistencies of Eousseau. 
 
 December 9th. — Heard to-day of the death of Dr. Aikin, — 
 a thing not to be lamented. He had for years sunk into imbe- 
 cility, after a youth and middle age of extensive activit3% He 
 was in his better days a man of talents, and of the highest 
 personal worth, — one of the salt of the earth. 
 
 December 21st. — The afternoon I spent at Aders's. A large 
 party, — a splendid diimer, prepared by a French cook, and 
 music in the evening. Coleridge was the star of the evening. 
 He talked in his usual way, though wuth more liberality than 
 when I saw him last some years ago. But he was somewhat 
 less animated and brilliant and paradoxical. The music was 
 enjoyed by Coleridge, but I could have dispensed with it for 
 the sake of his conversation. 
 
 " For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense." 
 
 December Slst. — The New Year's eve I spent, as I have 
 done frequently, at Flaxman's. And so I concluded a year, 
 like so many preceding, of uninterrupted pleasure and health, 
 with an increase of fortune and no loss of reputation. Though, 
 as has always been the case, I am not by any means satisfied 
 with my conduct, yet I have no matter of self-reproach as far 
 as the world is concerned. My fees amounted to 629 guineas. 
 
1823.] SOUTHKY ON HIS HISTORY. 481 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 1823. 
 
 JANUARY 8th — Went in the evening to Lamb. I have sel- 
 dom spent a more agreeable few hours with him. He was 
 serious and kind, — his wit was subordinate to his judgment, as 
 is usual in tete-cl-tete parties. Speaking of Coleridge, he said : 
 "• He ought not to have a wife or children ; he should have a 
 sort of diocesan care of the world, — no parish duty." Lamb 
 reprobated the prosecution of Byron's " Vision of Judgment." 
 Southey's poem of the same name is more worthy of punish- 
 ment, for his has an arrogance beyond endurance. Lord By- 
 ron's satire is one of the most good-natured description, — no 
 malevolence. 
 
 February 26th. — A letter from Southey. I was glad to find 
 he had taken in good part a letter I had written to him on 
 some points of general politics, &c., the propriety of writing 
 which I had myself doubted. 
 
 Southey to H. C. R. 
 
 Keswick, 22d February, 1823. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I beg your pardon for not having returned 
 the MSS. which you left here a year and a half ago, when I 
 was unlucky enough to miss seeing you. I thought to have 
 taken them myself to London long ere this, and put off ac- 
 knowledging them till a more convenient season from time to 
 time. But good intentions are no excuse for sins of omission. 
 I heartily beg your pardon, — and will return them to you in 
 person in the ensuing spring. 
 
 I shall be at Norwich in the course of my travels, — and of 
 course see William Taylor. As for vulgar imputations, you 
 need not be told how little I regard them. My way of life has 
 been straightforward, and — as the inscription upon Akbar's 
 seal says — " I never saw any one lost upon a straight road." 
 To those who know me, my life is my justification ; to those 
 who do not, my writings would be, in their whole tenor, if they 
 were just enough to ascertain what my opinions are before 
 they malign me for advancing them. 
 
 VOL. I. 21 EE 
 
482 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 What the plausible objection to my history* which you have 
 repeated means, I cannot comprehend, — ^* That I have wil- 
 fully disregarded those changes in the Spanish character which 
 might have been advantageously drawn from the spirit of the 
 age in the more enlightened parts of Europe." I cannot guess 
 at what is meant. 
 
 Of the old governments in the Peninsula, my opinion is ex- 
 pressed in terms of strong condemnation, — not in this work 
 only, but in the " History of Brazil," wherever there was occa- 
 sion to touch upon the subject. They are only not so bad as 
 a Jacobinical tyranny, which, while it continues, destroys the 
 only good that these governments left (that is, order), and ter- 
 minates at last in a stronger despotism than that which it has 
 overthrown. I distrust the French, because, whether under a 
 Bourbon or a Buonaparte, they are French still ; but if their 
 government were upright, and their people honorable, in that 
 case I should say that their interference with Spain was a 
 question of expediency ; and that justice and humanity, as 
 well as policy, would require them to put an end to the com- 
 motions in that wretched country, and restore order there, if 
 this could be effected.. But I do not see how they can effect 
 it. And when such men as Mina and Erolles are opposed to 
 each other, I cannot but feel how desperately bad the system 
 must be which each is endeavoring to suppress ; and were it 
 in my power, by a wish, to decide the struggle on one side or 
 the other, so strongly do I perceive the evils on either side, 
 that I confess I should want resolution and determination. 
 
 You express a wish that my judgment were left unshackled 
 to its own free operation. In God's name, what is there to 
 shackle it ? I neither court preferment nor popularity ; and 
 care as little for the favor of the great as for the obloquy of 
 the vulgar. Concerning Venice, — I have spoken as strongly 
 as you could desire. Concerning Genoa, — instead of giving 
 it to Sardinia, I wish it could have been sold to Corsica. The 
 Germans were originally invited to govern Italy, because the 
 Italians were too depraved and too divided to govern them- 
 selves. You cannot wish more sincerely than I do that the 
 same cause did not exist to render the continuance of their 
 dominion, — not indeed a good, but certainly, luider present 
 circumstances, the least of two evils. It is a bad government, 
 and a clumsy one ; and, indeed, the best foreign dominion can 
 never be better than a necessary evil. 
 
 * The first volume of Souttiey's " History of the Peninsular War.'* The 
 second volume was published in 1827, and the third in 18.33. 
 
r 
 
 1823 ] ORDER PREFERRED TO FREEDOM. 483 
 
 Your last question is, what I think of the King of Prussia's 
 utter disregard of his promises 1 You are far better qualified to 
 judge of the state of his dominions than I can be. But I would 
 ask you whether the recent experiments which have been made 
 of establishing representative governments are likely to encour- 
 age or deter those princes who may formerly have wished to 
 introduce them in their states '? And whether the state of 
 England, since the conclusion of the w^ar, has been such as 
 would recommend or disparage the English constitution, to 
 those who may once have considered it as the fair ideal of a 
 well-balanced government ] The English Liberals and the 
 English press are the w^orst enemies of liberty. 
 
 It will not be very long before my speculations upon the 
 prospects of society will be before the world. You wall then 
 see that my best endeavors for the real interests of humanity 
 have not been wanting. Those interests are best consulted 
 now by the maintenance of order. Maintain order, and the 
 spirit of the age will act surely and safely upon the govern- 
 ments of Europe. But if the Anarchists prevail, there is an 
 end of all freedom ; a generation like that of Sylla, or Eobes- 
 pierre, will be succeeded by a despotism, appearing like a 
 golden age at first, but leading, like the Augustan age, to the 
 thorough degradation of everything. 
 
 I have answered you, though hastily, as fully as the limits 
 of a letter will admit, — fairly, freely, and willingly. My 
 views are clear and consistent, and, could they be inscribed on 
 my gravestone, I should desire no better epitaph. 
 
 Wordsworth is at Coleorton, and will be in London long be- 
 fore me. He is not satisfied with my account of the conven- 
 tion of Cintra ; the rest of the book he likes well. Our 
 difference here is, that he looks at the principle, abstractedly, 
 and I take into view the circumstances. 
 
 When you come into this country again, give me a few days. 
 I have a great deal both within doors and without which I 
 should have great pleasure in showing you. Farewell ! and 
 believe me 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 Robert Southey. 
 
 March 1st — (On circuit.) We dined with Garrow. He 
 was very chatty. He talked about his being retained for Fox, 
 on the celebrated scrutiny in 1784 before the House of Com- 
 mons, " To which," he said, " I owe the rank I have the honor 
 
484 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 to fill." He mentioned the circumstances under which he went 
 first to the bar of the Commons. He w^as sent for on a sud- 
 den, without preparation, almost without reading his brief He 
 spoke for two hours; "And it was," he said, "the best speech 
 I ever made. Kenyon was Master of the Rolls, hating all I 
 said, but he came down to the bar and said, good-naturedly, 
 ^ Your business is done ; now you '11 get on.' " Garrow talked 
 of himself with pleasure, but without expressing any extrava- 
 gant opinions about himself 
 
 April 2d, — An interesting day. After breakfasting at Monk- 
 house's, I walked out with Wordsworth, his son John, and Monk- 
 house. We first called at Sir George Beaumont's to see his frag^ 
 ment of Michael Angelo, — a piece of sculpture in bas and haut 
 relief, — a holy family. The Virgin has the child in her lap ; 
 he clings to her, alarmed by something St. John holds towards 
 him, probably intended for a bird. The expression of the in- 
 fant's face and the beauty of his limbs cannot well be surpassed. 
 Sir George supposes that Michael Angelo was so persuaded he 
 could not heighten the effect by completing it, that he never 
 finished it. There is also a very fine landscape by Eubens, full 
 of power and striking effect. It is highly praised by Sir George 
 for its execution, the management of its lights, its gradation, 
 &c. ■' 
 
 Sir George is a very elegant man, and talks well on matters 
 of art. Lady Beaumont is a gentlewoman of great sweetness 
 and dignity. I should think among the most interesting by far 
 of persons of quality in the country. I should have thought 
 this, even had I not known of their great attachment to Words- 
 worth. 
 
 We then called on Moore, and had a very pleasant hour's chat 
 with him. Politics were a safer topic than poetry, though on 
 this the opinions of Wordsworth and Moore are nearly as ad- 
 verse as their poetic character. Moore spoke freely and in a 
 tone I cordially sympathized with about France and the Bour- 
 bons. He considers it quite uncertain how the French will feel 
 at any time on any occasion, so volatile and vehement are they 
 at the same time. Yet he thinks that, as far as they have any 
 thought on the matter, it is in favor of the Spaniards and liberal 
 opinions. Notwithstanding this, he says he is disposed to assent 
 to the notion, that of all the people in Europe, the French alone 
 are unfit for liberty. Wordsworth freely contradicted some of 
 Moore's assertions, but assented to the last. 
 
 Of French poetry Moore did not speak highly, and he thinks 
 
 II 
 
1823.] A QUINTET OF POETS. 485 
 
 that Chenevix has overrated the living poets in his late articles 
 in the Edinburgh Review, Moore's person is very small, his 
 countenance lively rather than intellectual. I should judge him 
 to be kind-hearted and friendly. 
 
 Wordsworth and I went afterwards to the Society of Arts, 
 and took shelter during a heavy rain in the great room. 
 Wordsworth's curiosity was raised and soon satisfied by Barry's 
 pictures. 
 
 Concluded my day at Monkhouse's. The Lambs were 
 there. 
 
 April Jfik. — Dined at Monkhouse's. Our party consisted of 
 Wordsworth, Coleridge, Lamb, Moore, and Rogers. Five poets 
 of very unequal worth and most disproportionate popularity, 
 whom the public probably w^ould arrange in a different order. 
 During this afternoon, Coleridge alone displayed any of his 
 peculiar talent. I have not for years seen him in such excel- 
 lent health and with so fine a flow of spirits. His discourse 
 was addressed chiefly to Wordsworth, on points of metaphysi- 
 cal criticism, — Rogers occasionally interposing a remark. The 
 only one of the poets who seemed not to enjoy himself was 
 Moore. He was very attentive to Coleridge, but seemed to 
 relish Lamb, next to w^hom he was placed. 
 
 RemJ^ — Of this dinner an account is given in Moore's Life, 
 which account is quoted in the Athenceum of April 23, 1853. 
 Moore writes: ^^ April 4, 1823. Dined at Mr. Monkhouse's 
 (a gentleman I had never seen before) on Wordsworth's invita- 
 tion, who lives there whenever he comes to town. A singular 
 party. Coleridge, Rogers, Wordsworth and wife, Charles Lamb 
 (the hero at present of the London Magazine) and his sister (the 
 poor woman who went mad in a diligence on the way to Paris), 
 and a Mr. Robinson, one of the minora sidera of this constella- 
 tion of the Lakes ; the host himself, a Maecenas of the school, 
 contributing nothing but good dinners and silence. Charles 
 Lamb, a clever fellow, certainly, but full of villanous and 
 abortive puns, which he miscarries of every minute. Some ex- 
 cellent things, however, have come from him." Charles Lamb 
 is indeed praised by a word the most unsuitable imaginable, for 
 he was by no means a clever man ; and dear Mary Lamb, a w^o- 
 man of singular good sense, who, when really herself, and free 
 from the malady that periodically assailed her, was quiet and 
 judicious in an eminent degree, — - this admirable person is 
 dryly noticed as *' the poor woman who went mad in a dili- 
 
 * Written in 1858. 
 
486 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 gence," (fee. Moore is not to be blamed for this, — they were 
 strangers to him. The Athenaeum Reviewer, who quotes this 
 passage from Moore, remarks : *^ The tone is not to our liking," 
 and it is added, " We should like to see Lamb's account." This 
 occasioned my sending to the Athenceum (June 25, 1853) a 
 letter by Lamb to Bernard Barton.* " Dear Sir, — I wished 
 for you yesterday. I dined in Parnassus with Wordsworth, 
 Coleridge, Rogers, and Tom Moore : half the poetry of Eng- 
 land constellated in Gloucester Place ! It was a delightful 
 evening ! Coleridge was in his finest vein of talk, — had all 
 the talk ; and let 'em talk as evilly as they do of the envy of 
 poets, I am sure not one there but was content to be nothing 
 but a listener. The Muses were dumb while Apollo lectured 
 on his and their fine art. It is a lie that poets are envious : I 
 have known the best of them, and can speak to it, that they 
 give each other their merits, and are the kindest critics as well 
 as best authors. I am scribbling a muddy epistle with an ach- 
 ing head, for we did not quaff Hippocrene last night, marry ! 
 It was hippocrass rather." 
 
 Lamb was in a happy frame, and I can still recall to my 
 mind the look and tone with which he addressed Moore, when 
 he could not articulate very distinctly : *' Mister Moore, will 
 you drink a glass of wine with me ? " — suiting the action to 
 the word, and hobnobbing. Then he went on : " Mister Moore, 
 till now I have always felt an antipathy to you, but now that 
 I have seen you I shall like you ever after." Some years after 
 I mentioned this to Moore. He recollected the fact, but not 
 Lamb's amusing manner. Moore's talent was of another sort;; 
 for many years he had been the most brilliant man of his com- 
 pany. In anecdote, small-talk, and especially in singing, he was 
 supreme ; but he was no match for Coleridge in his vein. As 
 little could he feel Lamb's humor. 
 
 Besides these five bards were no one but Mrs. Wordsworth, 
 Miss Hutchison, Mary Lamb, and Mrs. Gilman. I was at the 
 bottom of the table, where I very ill performed my part. 
 
 April 5th, — Went to a large musical party at Aders's, in 
 Euston Square. This party I had made for them. Words- 
 worth, Monkhouse, and the ladies, the Flaxmans, Coleridge, 
 ' Mr. and Mrs. Gilman, and Rogers, were my friends. I noticed 
 a great diversity in the enjoyment of the music, which was 
 first-rate, Wordsworth declared himself perfectly delighted 
 and satisfied, but he sat alone, silent, and with his face covered, 
 
 * Lamb's Works, Vol. I. p. 204. 
 
1823.] LORD THURLOW'S CHURCHISM. 487 
 
 and was generally supposed to be asleep. Flaxman, too, con- 
 fessed that he could not endure fine music for long. But Cole- 
 ridge's enjoyment was very lively and openly expressed. 
 
 April ISth, — Dover lately lent me a very curious letter, ' 
 written in 1757 by Thurlow to a Mr. Caldwell, who appears 
 to have wanted his general advice how to annoy the parson of 
 his parish. The letter fills several sheets, and is a laborious 
 enumeration of statutes and canons, imposing an infinite va- 
 riety of vexatious and burdensome duties on clergymen. Thur- 
 low begins by saying : *' I have confined myself to consider 
 how a parson lies obnoxious to the criminal laws of the land, 
 both ecclesiastical and secular, upon account of his character 
 and office, omitting those instances in which all men are equal- 
 ly liable." And he terminates his review by a triumphant 
 declaration : "I hope my Lord Leicester will think, even by 
 this short sketch, that I did not talk idly to him, when I said 
 that parsons were so hemmed in by canons and statutes, that 
 they can hardly breathe, according to law, if they are strictly 
 watched." 
 
 Scarcely any of the topics treated of have any interest, 
 being for the most part technical ; but after writing of the 
 Statutes of Uniformity, especially 13th and 14th Ch. II. c. 64, 
 he has this passage : " I have mentioned these severe statutes 
 and canons, because I have known many clergymen, and those 
 of the best character, followers of Eusebius, who have, in the 
 very face of all these laws, refused to read the Athanasian 
 Creed. Considering the shocking absurdity of this creed, I 
 should think it a cruel thing to punish anybody for not read- 
 ing it but those who have sworn to read it, and who have great 
 incomes for upholding that persuasion." 
 
 .... Neque enim lex est sequior ulla 
 Quam necis artifices arte perire sua. 
 
 May 2d, — Having discharged some visits, I had barely 
 time to return to dress for a party at Mr. Green's, Lincoln's 
 Inn Fields. An agreeable party. Coleridge was the only 
 talker, and he did not talk his best ; he repeated one of his 
 own jokes, by which he offended a Methodist at the whist- 
 table ; calling for her last trump, and confessing that, though 
 he always thought her an angel, he had not before known her 
 to be an archangel. 
 
 Bern* — Early in May my sister came to London to obtain 
 surgical advice. She consulted Sir Astley Cooper, Cline, and 
 
 » Written in 1851, 
 
488 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 Abemethy. Abernethy she declared to be the most feeling 
 and tender surgeon she had ever consulted. His behavior 
 was characteristic, and would have been amusing, if the 
 'gravity of the occasion allowed of its being seen from a 
 comic point of view. My sister calling on him as he was go- 
 ing out, said, by way of apology, she would not detain him 
 two minutes. " What ! you expect me to give you my advice 
 in two minutes ? I will do no such thing. I know nothing 
 about you, or your mode of living. I can be of no use. Well, 
 I am not the first you have spoken to ; whom hav€ you seen ] 
 • — Cooper ? — Ah ! very clever with his fingers ; and whom 
 besides 1 — Cline 1 — ivhi/ come to me then 1 you need not go 
 to any one after him. He is a sound man." 
 
 Mai/ 21st — Luckily for me, for I was quite unprepared, a 
 tithe case in which I was engaged was put off till the full 
 term. Being thus unexpectedly relieved, I devoted great part 
 of the forenoon to a delightfid stroll. I walked through the 
 Green Park towards Brompton ; and knowing that with the 
 great Bath road on my right, and the Thames on my left, I 
 could not greatly err, I went on without inquiry. I found my- 
 self at Chelsea. Saw the new Gothic church, and was pleased 
 with the spire, though the barn-like nave, and the slender and 
 feeble flying buttresses, confirmed the expectation that modem 
 Gothic would be a failure. Poverty or economy is fatal in its 
 effects on a style of architecture which is nothing if it be not 
 rich. I turned afterwards to the right, through Walham 
 Common, and arrived at Naylor's at three. The great man 
 whom we were met to admire came soon after. It was the 
 famous Scotch preacher, the associate of Dr. Chalmers at 
 Glasgow, Mr. Irving. He was brought by his admirer, an ac- 
 quaintance of Naylor's, a Mr. Laurie,* a worthy Scotchman, 
 who to-day was in the background, but speaks at religious 
 meetings, Naylor says. There was also Tho. Clarkson, not in 
 his place to-day. Irving on the whole pleased me. Little or no 
 assumption, easy and seemingly kind-hearted, talking not more 
 of his labors in attending public meetings (he was come from 
 one) than might be excused ; he did not obtrude any religious 
 talk, and was not dogmatical. 
 
 I^em.f — Irving had a remarkably fine figure and face, and 
 Mrs. Basil ^NJontagu said it was a question with the ladies 
 whether his squint was a grace or a deformity. My answer 
 would have been. It enhances the effect either way. A better 
 
 * Afterwards Sir Peter. — Rem. 1851. 
 
 t Written in 1851. 
 
1823.] 
 
 IRVING. 
 
 HIS PREACHING. 
 
 489 
 
 saying of Mrs. Montagu's was, that he might stand as a model 
 for St. John the Baptist, — indeed for any Saint dwelling in 
 the wilderness and feeding on locusts and wild honey. Those 
 who took an impression unpropitious to him might liken him 
 to an Italian bandit. He has a powerful voice, feels always 
 warmly, is prompt in his expression, and not very careful of 
 his words. His opinions I liked. At the meeting he had at- 
 tended in the morning (it was of a Continental Bible Society), 
 he attacked the English Church as a persecuting Church, and 
 opposed Wilberforce, who had urged prudent and unoffending 
 proceedings. I told Irving of my Scotch journe}^ He in- 
 formed me that the sermon I heard Dr. Chalmers preach 
 against the Judaical spending of the Sabbath had given of- 
 fence to the elders, who remonstrated with him about it.* He 
 only replied that he was glad his sermon had excited so much 
 attention. On my expressing my surprise that Dr. Chalmers 
 should leave Glasgow for St. Andrew's, Irving said it was the 
 best thing he could do. He had, by excess of labor, worn out 
 both his mind and body. He ought for three or four years to 
 do nothing at all, but recruit his health. We talked a little 
 about literature. Irving spoke highly of Wordsworth as a 
 poet, and praised his natural piety. 
 
 May 25th, — After reading a short time, I went to the Cale- 
 donian Chapel, to hear Mr. Irving. Very mixed impressions. 
 I do not wonder that his preaching should be thought to be 
 acting, or at least as indicative of vanity as of devotion. I 
 overheard some old ladies in Hatton Garden declaring that it 
 was not pure gospel ; they did not wish to hear any more, &c. 
 The most unfavorable circumstance, as tending to confirm this 
 suspicion, is a want of keeping in his discourse. Abrupt 
 changes of style, as if written (and it was written) at a dozen 
 different sittings. His tone equally variable. No master-feel- 
 ing running through the whole, like the red string through the 
 Royal Marine ropes, to borrov>" an image from Goethe. Yet 
 his sermon was very impressive. I caught myself wandering 
 but once. It began with a very promising division of his sub- 
 ject. His problem to show how the spiritual man is equally 
 opposed to the sensual, the intellectual, and the moral man, but 
 he expatiated chiefly on the sensual character. He drew some 
 striking pictures. He was very vehement, both in gesticulation 
 and declamation. To me there was much novelty, perhaps 
 because I am less familiar with Scotch than English preaching. 
 
 * See ante^ p. 462. 
 21* 
 
490 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 Basil Montagu and several young barristers were there. The 
 aisles were crowded by the profane, at least by persons drawn 
 by curiosity. 
 
 Rem* — One unquestionable merit he had, — he read the 
 Scriptures most beautifully ; he gave a new sense to them. 
 Even the Scotch hymns, when he recited them, were rendered 
 endurable. Of my own acquaintance with him 1 shall speak 
 hereafter. 
 
 June 8th. — I attended Mrs. J. Fordham to hear Mr. Irving, 
 and was better pleased with him than before. There was an 
 air of greater sincerity in him, and his peculiarities were less 
 offensive. His discourse was a continuation of last week's, — 
 on the intellectual man as opposed to the spiritual man. He 
 showed the peculiar perils to which intellectual pursuits expose 
 a man. The physician becomes a materialist, — the lawyer an 
 atheist, — because each confines his inquiries, the one to the 
 secondary laws of nature, the other to the outward relations 
 and qualities of actions. The poet, on the contrary, creates 
 gods for himself He worships the creations of his own fancy. 
 Irving abused in a commonplace way the sensual poets, and 
 made insinuations against the more intellectual, which might 
 be applied to Wordsworth and Coleridge. He observed on the 
 greater danger arising to intellectual persons from their being 
 less exposed to adversity ; their enjoyments of intellect being 
 more independent of fortune. The best part of his discourse 
 was a discrimination between the three fatal errors of, 1st, 
 conceiving that our actions are bound by the laws of necessity ; 
 2d, that we can reform when we please ; and 3d, that circum- 
 stances determine our conduct. There was a great crowd to- 
 day, and the audience seemed gratified. 
 
 June 17th. — I had an opportunity of being useful to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wordsworth, who arrived to-day from Holland. They 
 relied on Lamb's procuring them a bed, but he was out. I rec- 
 ommended them to Mrs. , but they could not get in there. 
 
 In the mean while I had mentioned their arrival to Talfourd, 
 who could accommodate them. I made tea for them, and af- 
 terwards accompanied them to Talfourd's. I was before engaged 
 to Miss Sharpe, where we supped. The Flaxmans were there, 
 Samuel Rogers, and his elder brother, who has the appearance 
 of being a superior man, which S. Sharpe reports him to be. 
 An agreeable evening. Rogers, who knows all the gossip of 
 literature, says that on the best authority he can afiirm that 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 
1823.] A SERMON OF IRVING'S. 491 
 
 Walter Scott has received £ 100,000 honorarium for his poems 
 tod other works, including the Scotch novels ! Walter Scott 
 is Rogers's friend, but Rogers did not oppose Flaxman's remark, 
 that his works have in no respect tended to improve the 
 inoral condition of mankind. Wordsworth came back w^ell 
 pleased with his tour in Holland. He has not, I believe, laid 
 in many poetical stores. 
 
 June 22d. — An unsettled morning. An attempt to hear 
 Irving j the doors crowded. I read at home till his service 
 was over, when by appointment I met Talfourd, with whom I 
 walked to Clapton. Talfourd was predetermined to be con- 
 temptuous and scornful towards Irving, whom he heard in part, 
 and no w^onder that he thought him a poor reasoner, a com- 
 monplace declaimer, full of bad imagery. Pollock, with more 
 candor, declares him to be an extraordinary man, but ascribes 
 much of the effect he produces to his sonorous voice and im- 
 pressive manner. 
 
 Jiine 29th, — Thomas Nash, of Whittlesford, calling, induced 
 me to go again to hear Mr. Irving. A crowd. A rush into 
 the meeting. I was obliged to stand all the sermon. A very 
 striking discourse ; an exposition of the superiority of Chris- 
 tianity over Paganism. It was well done. His picture of 
 Stoicism was admirably conceived. He represented it at the 
 best as but the manhood, not the womanhood, of virtue. The 
 Stoic armed himself against the evils of life. His system, 
 after all, was but refined selfishness, and while he protected 
 himself, he did not devote himself to others ; no kindness, no 
 self-offering, (fee. Speaking of the common practice of infidels 
 to hold up Socrates and Cato as specimens of Pagan virtue, he 
 remarked that this was as uncandid as it would be to repre- 
 sent the Royalists of the seventeenth century by Lord Falkland, 
 or the Republicans by Milton, or the courtiers of Louis XIV. 
 by Fenelon, the French philosophers before the Revolution by 
 D'Alembert,* or the French Republicans after by Carnot ! But 
 neither in this nor in any other of his sermons did he manifest 
 great powers of thought. 
 
 This week has brought us the certain news of the coun- 
 ter revolution in Portugal. But men still will not be con- 
 vinced that the counter-revolution in Spain must inevitably 
 follow. 
 
 June 30th, — I finished Goethe's fifth volume. Some of the 
 details of the retreat from Champagne, and still more those of 
 the siege of Mayence, are tedious, but it is a delightful volume 
 
492 RKxMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27, 
 
 notwithstanding. It will be looked back upon by a remote 
 posterity as a most interesting picture from the hand of a 
 master of the state of the public mind and feeling at the 
 beginning of the Revolution. The literary and psychological 
 parts of the book are invaluable. The tale of the melancholy 
 youth who sought Goethe's advice, which, after a visit in dis- 
 guise to the Harz, he refused to give, because he was assured 
 he could be of no use, is fraught with interest. It was at 
 that time Goethe wrote the fine ode, " Harz Reise im 
 Winter."* 
 
 July 12th. — I met Cargill by appointment, but on calling 
 at Mr. Irving's we received a card addressed to callers, stating 
 that he had shut himself up till three, and wished not to be 
 interrupted except on business of importance. How excellent 
 a thing were this but a fashion ! 
 
 I called on Murray, and signed a letter (which is to be litho- 
 graphed, with a fac-simile of handwi'iting) recommending God- 
 win's case. It is written by Mackintosh, t 
 
 August 6th. — Went to the Haymarket. I have not lately 
 been so much amused. In "Sweethearts and Wives," by 
 Kenny, Listen plays a sentimental lover and novel-reader. A 
 burlesque song is the perfection of farce : — 
 
 " And when I cry and plead for marcy, 
 It does no goocC but wice warsy." 
 
 [This year Mr. Robinson made a tour in Germany, Switzer- 
 land, and the Tyrol ; but as he went over the same ground at 
 other times, no selections will be given from the journal he 
 wrote on this occasion.] 
 
 October 26th. — I met with Talfourd, and heard from him 
 much of the literary gossip of the last quarter. Sutton 
 Sharpe,J whom I called on, gave me a second edition, and lent 
 me the last London Magazine, % containing Lamb's delightful 
 letter to Southey. || His remarks on religion are full of deep 
 feeling, and his eulogy on Hazhtt and Leigh Hunt most gene- 
 rous. Lamb must be aware that he would expose himself to 
 
 * See Vol. II. p. 49. 
 
 t The object of this letter was to obtain a sum of money to help Godwin 
 out of his difficulties. 
 
 X Nephew of Samuel Rogers. Afterwards Q. C, and eminent at the equity 
 bar. 
 
 § See the Works of Charles Lamb, Vol. I. p. 322. 
 
 II Southey had said in a review of " Elia's fcssays " : " It is a book which 
 wants only a sounder religious feeling, to be as delightful as it is original." He 
 did not intend to let the word sounder stand, but the passage was printed 
 without liis seeing a proof of it. 
 
U2S.] 
 
 LAW OF BLASPHEMY. 
 
 493 
 
 r 
 
 B obloquy by siich declarations. It seems that he and Hazlitt 
 I are no longer on friendly terms. Nothing that Lamb has 
 ■ ever written has impressed me more strongly with the 
 \W sweetness of his disposition and the strength of his affec- 
 tions. 
 
 November 10th. — An interesting day. I breakfasted with 
 Flaxman,*by invitation, to meet Schlegel. Had I as much 
 admiration for SchlegeFs personal character as I have for his 
 literary powers, I should have been gratified by his telling 
 Flaxman that it was I who first named him to Madame de 
 Stael, and who gave Madame de Stael her first ideas of Ger- 
 man literature. Schlegel is now devoting himself to Indian 
 learning, and hardly attends to anything else. Our conversa- 
 tion during a short breakfast was chiefly on Oriental subjects. 
 He brought with him his niece, an artist, who has been study- 
 ing under Girard at Paris. Flaxman had made an appointment 
 with Rundle and Bridge. And we rode there, principally to 
 see Flaxman's " Shield of Achilles," one of his greatest designs. 
 Mr. Bridge said it is a disgrace to the English nobility 
 that only four copies have been ordered, — by the King, the 
 Duke of York, the Duke of Northumberland, and Lord Lons- 
 dale.* Schlegel seemed to admire the work. It was Lord 
 Mayor's Day, and we stayed to see the procession. 
 
 November 18th, — I spent the forenoon at home. Finished 
 Mrs. Wordsworth's Journal. I do not know when I have felt 
 more humble than in reading it ; it is so superior to my own- 
 She saw so much more than I did, though we were side by 
 side during a great part of the time. Her recollection and 
 her observation were alike employed with so much more 
 effect than mine. This book revived impressions nearly dor- 
 mant. 
 
 November 2Jfih. — I walked out early. Went to the King's 
 Bench, where one of Carlile's men was brought up for judgment 
 for publishing blasphemy. A half-crazy Catholic, French, spoke 
 in mitigation. " My Lords," he said, " your Lordships cannot 
 punish this man, now that blasphemy is justified by Act of Par- 
 hament." This roused Lord Ellenborough. " That cannot be, 
 Mr. French." — " Why, my Lord, the late Bill repealing the 
 penalties on denying the Trinity justifies blasphemy !"t This 
 was a very sore subject to Lord Ellenhv^roxigh, on account of 
 
 * There is a fine cast of it in the Flaxman Gallery, University College 
 London, presented by C. R. Cockerell, R. A. 
 t See ante^ p. 413. 
 
494 REMINISCENCES' OF HENRV CRABB ROBINSON [Chai-. 27. 
 
 the imputed heterodoxy of the BJshop of Carlisle, his father. 
 French could only allege that this might have misled the de- 
 fendant. He was put down after uttering many absurdities. 
 On this the defendant said : " I should like to know, my Lords, 
 if I may not say Christ was not God without being punished 
 for it 1 " This brought up Best, and he said : '* In answer to 
 the question so indecently put, I have no hesitation *in saying 
 that, notwithstanding the Act referred to, it is a crime punish- 
 able by law to say of the Saviour of the world that he was " — 
 and then there was a pause — " other than he declared himself 
 to be." He was about to utter an absurdity, and luckily be- 
 thought himself. 
 
 November 26th, — Took tea and supped at Godwin's. The 
 Lambs there, and some young men. We played whist, &c. 
 Mrs. Shelley there. She is unaltered, yet I did not know 
 her at first. She looks elegant and sickly and young. One 
 would not suppose she was the author of ** Frankenstein." 
 
 November 27th. — I called early on Southey at his brother's ; 
 he received me cordially ; we chatted during a short walL 
 He wishes me to write an article on Germany for the Quarterly^ 
 which I am half inclined to do. Southey talks liberally and 
 temperately on Spanish affairs. He believes the King of Por- 
 tugal will give a constitution to the people, but he has no 
 hopes from the King of Spain. He has been furnished with 
 Sir Hew Dalrymple'g papers, from which he has collected two 
 facts which he does not think it right at present to make 
 public : one, that the present King of France * offered to fight 
 in the Spanish army against Buonaparte ; the other, that of 
 thirty-five despatches which Sir Hew sent to Lord Castlereagh, 
 only three were answered. The Spanish Ministry have been 
 very abstinent in not revealing this fact against Louis lately ; 
 it would give new bitterness to the national feeling against 
 him. No one now^ cares about Castlereagh's reputation. 
 
 December 3cL — I dined in Castle Street, and then took tea 
 at Flaxman's. A serious conversation on Jung's " Theorie der 
 Geisterkunde " t (" Theory of the Science of Spirits "). Flax- 
 man is prepared to go a very great way with Jung, for though 
 he does not believe in animal magnetism, and has a strong and 
 very unfavorable opinion of the art, and though he does not 
 believe in witchcraft, yet he does believe in ghosts, and he re- 
 lated the following anecdotes as confirming his belief: Mr. 
 E ordered of Flaxman a monument for his wife, and 
 
 * Louis XVIII. t This work has been translated into English. 
 
1823.] GHOST STORIES- - 495 
 
 directed that a dove should be introduced. Flaxman supposed 
 it was an armorial crest, but on making an inquiry was informed 
 that it was not, and was told this anecdote as explanatory of 
 the required ornament. When Mrs. E^ was on her death- 
 bed, her husband, being in the room w4th her, perceived that 
 she was apparently conversing with some one. On asking her 
 
 what she was saying, Mrs. E replied, " Do not you see 
 
 Miss at the window V — *' Miss is not here," said 
 
 her husband. " But she is," said Mrs. E . ^' She is at the 
 
 window, standing with a dove in her hand, and she says she 
 
 will come again to me on Wednesday." Now this Miss , 
 
 who was a particular friend of Mrs. E , resided at a dis- 
 tance, and had then been dead three months. Whether her 
 
 death was then known to Mrs. E , I cannot say. On the 
 
 Wednesday Mrs. E died. Flaxman also related that he 
 
 had a cousin, a Dr. Flaxman, a Dissenting minister, who died 
 many years ago. Flaxman, when a young man, was a believer 
 in ghosts, the Doctor an unbeliever. A warm dispute on the 
 subject having taken place, Mr. Flaxman said to the Doctor : 
 '^ I know you are a very candid, as well as honest man, and I 
 now put it to you whether, though you are thus incredulous, 
 you have never experienced anything which tends to prove 
 that appearances of departed spirits are permitted by Divine 
 Providence % " Being thus pressed, the Doctor confessed that 
 the following circumstance had taken place : There came to 
 him once a very ignorant and low fellow, who lived in his 
 neighborhood, to ask him what he thought of an occurrence 
 that had taken place the preceding night. As he lay in bed, 
 on a sudden a very heav}^ and alarming noise had taken place 
 in a room above him where no one was, and which he could 
 not account for. He thought it must come from a cousin of 
 his at sea, who had promised to come to him whenever he died. 
 The Doctor scolded at the man and sent him off. Some weeks 
 afterwards the man came again, to tell him that his cousin, he 
 had learned, was drowned that very night. 
 
 Rem!^ — Let me add here, what I may have said before, that 
 Charles Becher told me a story the very counterpart of this, — 
 that one night he was awakened by a sound of his brother's 
 voice crying out that he was drowning, and it afterwards ap- 
 peared that his brother was drowned that very night. It should 
 be said that there was a furious tempest at the time, and Becher 
 was on the English coast, and knew that his brother was at sea 
 on the coast of Holland. 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
496 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 I should add to what I have said of Flaxman, that he was 
 satisfied Jung had borrowed his theory from a much greater 
 man, Swedenborg. 
 
 December 22d. — Dined with Southern in Castle Street, and 
 then went to Flaxman's. I read to them parts of Jung's work, 
 but Flaxman thought his system very inferior to Swedenborg's. 
 Flaxman declared his conviction that Swedenborg has given the 
 true interpretation of the Old and New Testaments, and he be- 
 lieves in him as an inspired teacher. He says, that till he read 
 his explanations of the Scriptures, they were to him a painful 
 mystery. He has lent me a summary of the Swedenborgian 
 doctrines. 
 
 December Slst. — A year to me of great enjoyment, but not 
 of prosperity. My fees amounted to 445 guineas. As to my- 
 self, I have become more and more desirous to be religious, but 
 seem to be further off than ever. Whenever I draw near, the 
 negative side of the magnet works, and I am pushed back by 
 an invisible power. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
DIARY, REMINISCENCES, AND 
 
 COREESPONDENCE 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, 
 
 BARRISTER-AT-LAW, F. S. A. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 

REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 1824. 
 
 JANUARY 1st. — I dined with Flaxman. An agreeable 
 afternoon. The Franklins there. 
 
 Rem* — Captain, the now lost Sir John FrankHn, had mar- 
 ried Ellen, the youngest daughter of Porden, the architect. I 
 appear not to have justly appreciated his bodily nature. My 
 journal says : ** His appearance is not that of a man fit for 
 the privations and labors to which his voyage of discovery ex- 
 posed him. He is rather under-set; has a dark complexion 
 and black eyes ; a diffident air, with apparently an organic de- 
 fect of vision ; not a bold soldier-like mien. It seemed as if 
 he had not recovered from his hmiger." Flaxman was very 
 cheerful. When he has parties, he seems to think it his duty 
 to give his friends talk as well as food, and of both his enter- 
 tainment is excellent. He tells a story well, but rather dif- 
 frisely. We looked over prints, and came home late. It is a 
 curious coincidence, that being engaged to dine with Captain 
 Franklin at Flaxman's, I had to decline an invitation to meet 
 Captain Parry at Mr. Martineau's, Stamford Hill. 
 
 January 10th, — Walked out and called on Miss Lamb. I 
 looked over Lamb's library in part. He has the finest collec- 
 tion of shabby books I ever saw ; such a number of first-rate 
 works in very bad condition is, I think, nowhere to be found. 
 
 January 22d. — Rode to London from Bury on the ** Tele- 
 graph." I w^as reading all the time it was light Irving's 
 " Argument of Judgment to come," which I have since finished. 
 It is a book of gi-eat power, but on the whole not calculated 
 to resolve doubts. It is more successful in painting strongly 
 
 * Written in 1861. 
 
 VOL. II. 1 A 
 
2 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 to believers the just inferences from the received doctrine. 
 It is written rather to alarm than persuade; and to some 
 would have the effect of deterring from belief. 
 
 How different this from John Woolman's Journal * I have 
 been reading at the same time. A perfect gem ! His is a 
 schoiie Seele (beautiful soul). An illiterate tailor, he writes in a 
 style of the most exquisite purity and grace. His moral 
 qualities are transfen^ed to his writings. Had he not been so 
 very humble he would have written a still better book, for, 
 fearing to indulge in vanity, he conceals the events in w^hich 
 he was a great actor. His religion is love. His whole exist- 
 ence and all his passions were love ! If one could venture to 
 impute to his creed, and not to his personal character, the de- 
 lightful frame of mind which he exhibited, one could not hesi- 
 tate to be a convert. His Christianity is most inviting, — 
 it is fascinating. 
 
 February 3d, — Made a long-deferred call on Mr. Irving, with 
 whom I was very much pleased. He received me with flatter- 
 ing cordiality, and introduced me to his wife, a plain but very 
 agreeable woman. Irving is learning German, which will be 
 an occasion of acquaintance between us, as I can be of use to 
 him. We had an agreeable chat ; his free, bold tone, the reck- 
 lessness with which he talks, both of men and things, renders 
 his company piquant. He spoke of the Scottish character as 
 to be found only in the peasantry, not in the literati. Jeffrey 
 and the Edinburgh critics do not represent the people ; neither, 
 I observed, do Hume, Adam Smith, &c. I adverted to some of 
 the criticisms on his sermons. He seemed well acquainted 
 with them, but not much to regard them. He said that Cde- 
 ridge had given him a new idea of German metaphysics, which 
 he meant to study. 
 
 February 15th, — Having resolved to devote my Sundays in 
 future to the perusal of writings of a religious character, I 
 this morning made choice of a volume of Jeremy Taylor as a 
 beginning. I pitched on his '' Marriage Ring," a splendid dis- 
 course, equally fine as a composition and as evidencing deep 
 thought. Yet it has passages hardly readable at the present 
 day. It has naive expressions, which raise a smile. In the 
 
 * " John Woolman's Works, containing the Journal of his Life, Gospel La^ 
 bors, and Christian Experiences. To which are added his Writings." Philn- 
 delphia, 1775. Dublin, 1794. London, 1824. 8vo. Charles Lamb gi'eatly 
 admired this work, and brought it to H. C. R.'s notice. Woolman was an 
 American Quaker, one of those who first had misgivings about the institution 
 of slavery. 
 
1824.] IRVING. 3 
 
 midst of a long argument to prove that a husband ought not 
 to beat his wife, he asks : " If he cannot endure her talk, how 
 can she endure his beating ] " 
 
 February 17th. — I had a short chat with Benecke, and read 
 him extracts from Jeremy Taylor. Glad to find Benecke a 
 thinking Christian. He is, with all his piety and gravity, a 
 believer in universal restoration, or, at least, a disbeliever in 
 eternal punishment. By the by, I met the other day this re- 
 mark : *'It is a greater difficulty how evil should ever come 
 into the world, than that, there being evil already here, it 
 should be continued forever in the shape of punishment. If it 
 is not inconsistent with the Divine attributes to suffer guilt, is 
 it so that he should ordain punishment ] " But I think I have 
 a short and yet satisfactory answer. Evil here, and the evil of 
 punishment, like all other may he means to an end, which end 
 may he the good of all. But eternal punishment supposes evil 
 to be an End. 
 
 February 20th. — Rode to Hammersmith, where, accom- 
 panying Nay lor, I dined with Mr. Slater. A rather large party, 
 rendered interesting by Irving. A young clergyman, a Mr. 
 P , talked of the crime of giving opium to persons be- 
 fore death, so that they went before their Maker stupefied. A 
 silly sentiment, w^hich Irving had the forbearance not to expose, 
 though his manner sufficiently indicated to me what his feeling 
 
 was. There was also a Mr. C , an old citizen, a parvenu. 
 
 said by Slater to be an excellent and very clever man ; but he 
 quoted Dr. Chalmers to prove that the smaller the violation of 
 the law, the greater the crime. Irving spoke as if he knew how 
 Hall had spoken of him, censured his violent speeches, and re- 
 ported his having said to a young theological student : " Do 
 you beheve in Christ 1 Do you disbelieve in Dr. Collier ] " and 
 incidentally asked : ** If such things " (some infirmity of I forget 
 what divine) "• are overlooked, why not my censoriousness ] " 
 Speaking of Hall, Irving said that he thought his character had 
 greatly suffered by the infusion of party spirit, which had dis- 
 turbed his Christian sentiments. Mrs. Irving was also very 
 agreeable ; the cordiality of both husband and wife was grati- 
 fying to me. I anticipate pleasant intercourse with them. 
 
 February 27th, — Had a long chat with Flaxman about Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds. In the decline of life he expressed dis- 
 satisfaction with himself for not having attended to religion. 
 He was not always sufficiently attentive to the feelings of 
 others, and hurt Flaxman by saying to him on his marriage : 
 
4 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 " You are a ruined man, — you will make no further progress 
 now." 
 
 February 29th. — Read the second sermon on Advent. It 
 has checked my zeal for Jeremy Taylor. It is true, as Anthony 
 Robinson says, that one does not get on with him ; or rather 
 he does not get on with his subject. A diffuse declaimer must, 
 however, expose himself to this reproach. In eloquence, as in 
 dancing, the object is not so much to get from the spot as to 
 delight by graceful postures and movements without going 
 away. And I find as I go on with Jeremy Taylor that he is 
 merely eloquent, — he dances, but he does not journey on. And 
 in works of thought there should be a union of qualities. One 
 might parody Pope, and say : — 
 
 *' Or set on oratorio ground to prance, 
 Show all his paces, not a step advance." 
 
 March 5th. — Walked over to Lamb's. Meant a short visit, 
 but Monkhouse was there as well as Manning ; so I took tea 
 and stayed the whole evening, and played whist. Besides, the 
 talk was agreeable. On religion, Monkhouse talked as I did 
 not expect ; rather earnestly on the Atonement, as the essential 
 doctrine of Christianity, but against the Trinity, which he 
 thinks by a mere mistake has been adopted from Oriental 
 philosophy, under a notion that it was necessary to the 
 Atonement. The dogmatism of theology has disgusted Lamb, 
 and it is that alone which he opposes ; he has the organ of 
 theosophy, and is by nature pious. 
 
 March 26th. — At the Spring Assizes at Thetford. I dined 
 with my nephew and niece, then living there. I drank tea 
 with James Edmund Barker. His literary anecdotes were 
 entertaining. He wrote a work of some size about Dr. Parr, 
 whose pupil he was. He said Parr was intolerant of young- 
 scoffers at religion ; and to a Roman Catholic who had jeered 
 at the story of Balaam's ass and its cross, he said with more 
 severity than wit : " It would be well, young man, if you had 
 less of the ass and more of the cross." To a lady, who, seeing 
 him impatient at her talk, said : " You must excuse us ladies, 
 whose privilege it is to talk nonsense." — " Pray, madam, did 
 you talk nonsense, it would be your infirmity, not your priv- 
 ilege, unless, indeed, you deem it the privilege of a duck to 
 waddle because it cannot walk." Barker related an anecdote of 
 
 Parr in connection with , which makes amends for J 
 
 many a harsh word. He had lent £ 200, as Barker * 
 
 thought, but I think it was, in fact, £ 500. " I shall never see 
 
1£24.] IRVING— SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. — WILDE. 5 
 
 the money again," said the Doctor ; " but it is of no conse- 
 quence. It is for a good man, and a purpose." 
 
 April 19th. — I went after breakfast to Monkhouse. Mr. 
 Irving there ; he was very courteous. Wordsworth also there. 
 Listened with interest to a serious conversation between the 
 poet and the pulpit orator, and took a share in it. Wordsw^orth 
 stated that the great difficulty which had always pressed on 
 his mind in religion was the inability to reconcile the Divine 
 prescience with accountability in man. I stated mine to be 
 the incompatibility of the existence of evil, as final and 
 absolute, with the Divine attributes. Irving did not attempt 
 to solve either. He declared that he was no metaphysician, 
 and that he did not pretend to know more of God than w^as 
 revealed to him. He did not, however, seem to take any 
 offence at the difficulties suggested. An interesting hour's 
 conversation. 
 
 May 18th. — Called on Irving. He was very friendly, as was 
 also his wife. A little serious talk ; but Irving is no meta- 
 physician, nor do I suppose a deep thinker. But he is liberal, 
 and free from doctrinal superstition. He received my free 
 remarks on the terrors which he seeks to inspire with great 
 good-nature. I left him " John Woolman," a book which ex- 
 hibits a Christian all love.* Woolman was a missionary, and 
 Irving is writing on the missionaries. He called it a God- 
 send. 
 
 May 22d, — After a call on Flaxman, dined with Captain 
 Franklin. A small but interesting party. Several friends of 
 Frankhn's, — travellers, or persons interested in his journeys,— 
 all gentlemen and men of sense. They talked of the Captain's 
 travels with vivacity, and he was in good spirits ; he appeared 
 quite the man for the perilous enterprise he has undertaken. 
 Mr. Palgrave (formerly Cohen), a well-known antiquary, was 
 there, and his wife, the daughter of Dawson Turner. She has 
 more beauty, elegance, sense, and taste united than I have 
 seen for a long time. 
 
 May 28th. — I went down to Westminster to hear Sergeant 
 Wilde in defence of the British Press for a libel on Mr. 
 Chetwynd. He spoke with great vehemence and acuteness 
 combined. His vehemence is not united to elegance, so that 
 he is not an orator ; but the acuteness was not petty. He 
 will soon be at the head of the Common Pleas. 
 
 Rem>.'\ — My prophecy was more than fulfilled. He is now, 
 
 • See Vol. I. p. 266. t Written in 1861. 
 
6 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 as Lord Truro, the Lord High Chancellor; but, like other 
 recent Chancellors, it is not so that he will be best known to 
 posterity. 
 
 Jime 1st. — I was induced to engage myself to dine with C. 
 Lamb. After dinner he and I took a walk to Newington. We 
 sat an hour with Mrs. Barbauld. She was looking tolerably, 
 but Lamb (contrary to his habit) was disputatious with her, 
 and not in his best way. He reasons from feelings, and those 
 often idiosyncrasies ; she from abstractions and verbal defini- 
 tions. Such people can't agree. 
 
 June 3d. — At nine (much too early) I w^ent to a dance and 
 rout at Mr. Green's, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, where I stayed 
 till three. A large party. Luckily for me, Coleridge was 
 there, and I was as acceptable to him as a listener as he to me 
 as a talker. Even in the dancing-room, notwithstanding the 
 noise of the music, he was able to declaim very amusingly on 
 his favorite topics. This evening his theme was the growing 
 hypocrisy of the age, and the determination of the higher 
 classes, even in science, to repress all liberality of speculation. 
 Sir Humphry Davy has joined the party, and they are now 
 patronizing Granville Penn's absurd attack on geology as being 
 against revealed religion. It seems that these ultra-religionists 
 Jeem the confirmation of the great fact of a deluge from the 
 phenomena within the crust of the globe as inconsistent w4th 
 the Mosaic account. After so entire a destruction of the 
 earth, how could the dove find a growing olive 1 Coleridge 
 thinks German philosophy in a state of rapid deterioration. 
 He metaphysicized d la Schelling while he abused him, saying 
 the Atheist seeks only for an infinite cause of all things ; the 
 spurious divine is content with mere personality and personal 
 will, which is the death of all reason. The philosophic 
 theologian unites both. How this is to be done he did not 
 say. 
 
 June 10th, — Dined at Lamb's, and then walked with him to 
 Highgate, self-invited. There we found a large party. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Green, the Aderses, Irving, Collins, R A., a Mr. Taylor,* 
 a young man of talents in the Colonial Ofiice, Basil Montagu, 
 and one or two others. It was a rich evening. Coleridge talked 
 his best, and it appeared better because he and Irving supported 
 the same doctrines. His superiority was striking. The subject 
 dwelt on was the superiority of the internal evidence of 
 Christianity. In a style not clear or intelligible to me, both 
 
 * Henry Taylor, author of " Philip van Artevelde." 
 
1824.] A TALK AT COLERIDGE'S. 7 
 
 Coleridge and Irving declaimed. The advocatus diaholi for the 
 evening was Mr. Taylor, who, in a way very creditable to his 
 manners as a gentleman, but with little more than verbal 
 cleverness, ordinary logic, and the confidence of a young man 
 who has no suspicion of his own deficiences, affirmed that those 
 evidences which the Christian thinks he finds in his internal 
 convictions, the Mahometan also thinks he has ; and he also 
 asserted that Mahomet had improved the condition of mankind. 
 Lamb asked him whether he came in a turban or a hat. There 
 
 was also a Mr.-C , who broke out at last by an opposition 
 
 to Mr. Irving, which made the good man so angry that he ex- 
 claimed : " Sir, I reject the whole bundle of your opinions." 
 
 Now it seemed to me that Mr. C had no opinions, only 
 
 words, for his assertions seemed a mere galimatias. 
 
 The least agreeable part of Coleridge's talk was about 
 German literature. He called Herder a coxcomb, and set 
 Goethe far below Schiller, allowing the former no other merit 
 than that of exquisite taste. He repeated his favorite reproach, 
 that Goethe wrote from an idea that a certain thing was to be 
 done in a certain style, not from the fulness of sentiment on a 
 certain subject. 
 
 My talk with Irving alone was more satisfactory. He spoke 
 of a friend who has translated " Wilhelm Meister," and said : 
 *^We do not sympathize on religious matters. But that is 
 nothing. Where I find that there is a sincere searching after 
 truth, I think I like a person the better for not having found 
 it." — *'At least," I replied, ^* you have an additional interest 
 in him." Whether Irving said this, suspecting me to be a 
 doubter, I do not know. Probably he did. 
 
 On my walk with Lamb, he spoke with enthusiasm of Man- 
 ning,* declaring that he is the most wonderful man he ever 
 knew, more extraordinary than Wordsworth or Coleridge. Yet 
 he does nothing. He has travelled even in China, and has been 
 by land from India through Thibet, yet, as far as is known, he 
 has written nothing. Lamb says his criticisms are of the very 
 first quality. 
 
 July 1st. — Made my first call at the Athenaeum, a genteel 
 establishment ; but I foresee that it will not answer my pur- 
 pose as a dining-place, and, if not, I gain nothing by it as a 
 lounge for papers, &c. 
 
 Rem.^ — It now constitutes one of the great elements of my 
 
 * Thomas Manning, at one time a mathematical tutor at Cambridge. Some 
 of Lamb's most characteristic letters were addressed to him. 
 f Written in 1861. 
 
8 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 ordinary life, and my becoming a member was an epoch in my 
 life. These great clubs have changed the character of London 
 society, and will save many a young man from the evils of a 
 rash marriage, as well as habits of dissipation. Originally it 
 was proposed that all the members (1,000) of the Athenaeum 
 should be men of letters, and authors, artists, or men of 
 science, — in a word, producers ; but it was found impossible to 
 form a club solely of such materials, and, had it been possible, 
 it would have been scarcely desirable. So the qualification was 
 extended to lovers of literature, and when Amyot proposed me 
 to Heber, the great book-collector, I was declared by Heber to 
 be worthy, on account of my being a German scholar. He at 
 once consented to propose me, but I needed a seconder who 
 knew me. Flaxman named me to Gurney, the barrister, who 
 consented to second me, and he writing a letter to that eiFect, 
 I was in fact seconded by I know not whom. The entrance 
 fee was £ 10, and the annual subscription £ 5. A house was 
 building for us in the square opposite the Park. We occupied 
 for a time the southwest corner of Regent Street. I was not 
 at first aware that it would become my ordinary dining-place, 
 but I knew it would introduce me to good society. 
 
 July 1st, — I dined with Storks, to meet Lady and Sir 
 Charles Morgan, and I was much amused by the visit. Before 
 I went, I was satisfied that I should recognize in the lady one 
 who had attracted my attention at Pistrucci's, and my guess 
 was a hit. Lady Morgan did not displease me till I reflected 
 on her conversation. She seems good-natured as well as lively. 
 She talked like one conscious of her importance and superiority. 
 I quoted Kant's *' There are two things which excite my admira- 
 tion, — the moral law within me, and the starry heavens above 
 me." — ** That is mere vague declamation," said Sir Charles ; 
 " German sentiment and nothing else. The starry heavens, 
 philosophically considered, are no more objects of admiration 
 than a basin of water ! " Lady Morgan most offended me by 
 her remarks about Madame de Stael. 
 
 She talked of her own books. <£ 2, 400 was asked for a house. 
 ** That will cost me two books," she said. She has seen Prati, 
 who, she says, advises her to go to Germany ; " But I have no 
 respect for German literature or philosophy." — "Your ladyship 
 had better stay at home. Does your ladyship know anything 
 about them % " was my imgallant reply. 
 
 Rem,* — I saw her once or twice after this, but I never 
 
 * Written in 1861. 
 
li^24.J MRS OPIE. — BALDWIN. 9 
 
 courted her company ; and I thought the giving her a pen- 
 sion one of the grossest misapplications of the small sum at 
 the disposal of the government. Wordsworth repeatedly de- 
 clared his opinion that writers for the people — novelists, 
 poets, and dramatists — had no claim, but that authors of dic- 
 tionaries and books of reference had. 
 
 July 5th. — I dined in Castle Street, and took tea at Lamb's. 
 Mr. Irving and his friend, Mr. Carlyle, were there. An agree- 
 able evening enough ; but there is so little sympathy between 
 Lamb and Irving, that I do not think they can or ought to be 
 intimate. 
 
 July 6th. — Took tea with Lamb. Hessey gave an account 
 of De Quincey's description of his own bodily sufferings. " He 
 should have employed as his publishers," said Lamb, " Pain 
 and Fuss " (Payne and Foss). 
 
 July IJfth. — At the Assizes at Norwich. Called on Mrs. 
 Opie, who had then become a Quakeress. She received me 
 very kindly, but as a Quaker in dress and diction. I found her 
 very agreeable, and not materially changed. Her dress had 
 something coquettish in it, and her becoming a Quakeress gave 
 her a sort of eclat ; yet she was not conscious, I dare say, of any 
 unworthy motive. She talked in hor usual graceful and affec- 
 tionate manner. She mentioned Lord Gifford, — surely a slip 
 of the tongue. 
 
 July 17th. — To-day heard a good pun from the unfortunate 
 
 A . The college beer was very bad at St. John's. " The 
 
 brewer ought to be drowned in a butt of his own beer," said 
 
 one fellow. A replied : " He ought. He does, indeed, 
 
 deserve a watery bier." 
 
 Rem* July 23d. — My first visit to Charles Baldwin, at 
 Camberwell, where he dwelt in a sort of park, where once Dr. 
 Lettsom lived. He has been ever since as owner, first of 
 Baldwinh Evening Mail, and afterwards of the Standard, at 
 the head of the Tory and Church party press, and our acquaint- 
 ance has, of course, fluctuated, but has not altogether ceased. 
 
 August 12th. — All day in court. In one cause I held a brief 
 under Henry Cooper. The attorney, a stranger, Garwood, of 
 Wells, told me that he was informed by his friend Evans (the 
 son of my old friend, Joseph Evans), that I was the H. C. R. 
 mentioned in the London Magazine as the friend of Elia. " I 
 love Elia," said Mr. Garwood ; " and that was enough to make 
 me come to you ! " 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 I* 
 
10 RExMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 August 18th, — Called on Mr. Irving, and had an agreeable 
 chat with him. He is an honorable man in his feelings. He 
 was called away by a poor minister, who, having built a chapel, 
 says he must go to prison unless Mr. Irving would preach a 
 sermon for him. Mr. Irving refused. He said he had no call 
 or mission to relieve men from difficulties into which they 
 throw themselves. He says there is much cant and selfish- 
 ness which stalk abroad under the mask of the word " gospel." 
 Irving praises exceedingly Luther's " Table-Talk," which I 
 have lent him. *' It is the profoundest table-talk I ever read," 
 he says. 
 
 Aztgust 2ScL — I went to Brighton, and after spending a few 
 days with my friends there and at Lewes, I made a tour al- 
 most entirely in Normandy. 
 
 Rem.* — During my journey I w^as not inattentive to the 
 state of public opinion. It was decidedly against the Bour- 
 bons, as far as I accidentally heard sentiments expressed. Of 
 course I except official zeal. At Caen, I was amused at the 
 Bureau de la Police by a plaster cast of the King, like those 
 sold by Italian boys for 6d Round the brow a withered leaf, 
 to represent the laurel " meed of mighty conquerors," with 
 this inscription : — 
 
 Fran9ois fidele! incline-toi; 
 Traitre, fremis, — voici le Roi! 
 
 This contempt for the family was by no means confined to 
 the Republicans or Imperialists, though certainly much of it 
 was, and is, to be ascribed to the national character, which 
 would lead them to tolerate sooner King Stork than King Log, 
 if the devouring sovereign conferred any kind of honor on 
 those he swallowed. 
 
 How low the condition of the French judges is, was also 
 made evident to me. The salary of the puisne judges in the 
 provinces — at Avranches, for instance — is 1,200 livres per 
 aunum, without fees or emoluments of any kind : and from the 
 conducteur of our diligence I learned that he and his fellow- 
 conducteurs had recently struck, because an attempt had been 
 made to reduce their salary from 4,000 to 3,000 litres, with 
 permission to take the usual fees ; and every traveller gives 
 liberally. 
 
 The Avocats, who are distinguished from the Avoues, receive 
 small fees till they become of importance, and then such men 
 
 * V\'nttGn in 1851. 
 
1824.] MONASTERY OF LA TkAPPk. 11 
 
 as Benyer will gain as much as several hundred thousand 
 francs per annum. The Avoues, tout comme chez 7ious, earn 
 more than the Avocats in criminal cases, though the orders are 
 by no means so entirely separated. The Avoues alone repre- 
 sent the client, who is bound by their admissions only ; and 
 their bills are taxed like those of our attorneys. 
 
 The most interesting occurrence on this journey was my 
 visit to the Monastery of La Trappe, to which I walked on 
 September 21st, from Mortagne. The spot itself is simple, 
 mean, and ugly, — very unlike Ici grande Chartreuse. It had 
 been thoroughly destroyed early in the Revolution, and, when 
 restored, the order was in great poverty. Its meanness took 
 away all my enthusiasm, for my imagination was full of ro- 
 mantic images of " shaggy woods and caves forlorn." It is 
 situated in a forest about three leagues from Mortagne. Indi- 
 cations of its peculiar sanctity were given by inscriptions o» 
 bams and mean houses of husbandry, such as Domus Dei, Be- 
 ati qui habitant in ilia ; and these heati and felices were re- 
 peated so often as to excite the suspicion that the inscribers 
 were endeavoring to convince themselves of their own felicity. 
 The people I saw this day were mean and vulgar for the great- 
 er part, with no heroic quality of the monk. Some few had 
 visages indicating strength of the lowest animal nature, others 
 had a cunning look. One or two were dignified and interest- 
 ing. 
 
 On knocking at the gate, a dirty old man opened it, and 
 conducted me to a little room, where I read on the wall, ^'In- 
 structions to Visitors." The most significant of these was, 
 that if, among the monks, any one were recognized, though he 
 were a son, a parent, or a brother, he was not to be spoken to. 
 As every monk had renounced all connection with the world, 
 all his relations with the world were destroyed. 
 
 Visitors were not to speak till spoken to, and then to answer 
 briefly. I was led into a gallery from which I could see the 
 monks at mass. As others were on their knees, I followed 
 their example on entering, but I felt it to be a kind of hypoc- 
 risy, and did not repeat the act when I had once risen. The 
 only peculiarity in the performance of the mass was the hu- 
 mility of the monks, — sometimes on their knees and hands, 
 and at other times standing bent as a boy does at leapfrog, 
 when a little boy is to leap over him. 
 
 Being beckoned back into the waiting-room, two monks 
 having white garments entered and prostrated themselves 
 
12 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 before me, covering their faces with their hands. They re- 
 mained in this posture long enough to make me feel silly and 
 uncomfortable. Not that I felt like a Sultan or Grand Turk, 
 as if 1 were the object of worship, for I knew that this was 
 an act of humility which would be performed to a beggar. 
 Only once before was a man ever on his knees to me, and then I 
 felt contempt and anger, and this man was a sort of sovereign, 
 or portion of a king, — one of the Junta of Galicia, in Spain. 
 Towards these men I felt pity, not admiration. One had a 
 stupid face, the other a most benignant expression. This, the 
 good genius of the two, after leading me into the church, where 
 unintelligible ceremonies were gone through, read to me out 
 of a book what I did not understand. I was in a state of con- 
 fusion, and I did what I was bid as obediently as a postulant. 
 I was left alone, and then another monk came. I was oftered 
 dinner, which I had previously resolved to accept, thinking 
 I might, at least for one day, eat what was the ordinary food 
 for life of men who at one time had probably fared more 
 sumptuously than I had ever done ; but it was a trial, I 
 own. 
 
 I would leave nothing on my plate, and was prudent in not 
 overloading it. The following was my fare and that of two 
 other guests, meanly dressed men. A little table was covered 
 with a filthy cloth, but I had a clean napkin. First, a soupe 
 maigre, very insipid ; a dish of cabbage, boiled in what I 
 should have thought butter, but that is a prohibited luxury ; 
 a dish of boiled rice seasoned with a little salt, but by no 
 means savory ; and barley or oatmeal boiled, made somewhat 
 thick with milk, — not disagreeable, considered as prison al- 
 lowance. While at dinner there came in the frere cellier, or 
 butler, who said he had a favor to ask of me. It was that I 
 would write to him from England, and inform him by what 
 means the English Gloucester cheese has the reddish hue given 
 to it. The society have cows and sell their cheese, which 
 makes a large portion of their income. This I promised to 
 do, intimating that the color without the flavor would be of 
 little use. In fact, I did send — what I hope was received — 
 
 a packet of ,* which cost me about as many shillings 
 
 as my dinner cost sous. I was glad of this, for I saw no poor- 
 box in w^hich I could deposit the cost of my meal. The man who 
 made this request had a ruddy complexion, and by no means 
 a mortified air. The monk who brought in the wine also had 
 
 * Probabl}'- what Mr. Robinson sent was Arnotta 
 
 .1, 
 
 \ 
 
1824.] LAWS OF THE TRAPPIST ORDER. 13 
 
 a laughing eye, and I saw him smile. All the others were 
 dismal, forlorn, and silent. He could speak even loudly, yet 
 he had the dress of a frere convers. Among the monks was 
 the famous Baron Geramb, of whom I heard a romantic tale 
 (worth telling, were this a part of a book). One of the young 
 men who dined with me was a seminarist of Seez. His hands 
 betrayed that he had been accustomed to day labor. His con- 
 versation was that of the most uneducated. He was so igno- 
 rant that, on my expressing my astonishment that the Emperor 
 of Austria could allow his daughter to marry Buonaparte, who 
 had a wife already, he accounted for it by his being a Protes- 
 tant. This young man made the journey to the monastery to 
 relieve himself from his college studies at Seez, as our Cam- 
 bridge students go to the Lakes. At the same time, his object 
 was, I fear, purer than theirs. He came for edification, to be 
 strengthened in the pious resolution which made him assume 
 the holy office of a priest, and avail himself of the charitable 
 education freely given him by his patron, the bishop. He was 
 my cicerone round the monastery, and felt like a patron towards 
 me. When I confessed that I was a Protestant, he smiled with 
 satisfaction, that he had had penetration to guess as much, 
 though he had never seen me before. 
 
 At that time the church was in want of supplies for the lower 
 order of clergy ; but it is otherwise now. 
 
 Under his guidance I could see through the windows the 
 monks at their dinner at a long table, with a sort of porridge- 
 pot before them, while the readers in the several apartments 
 were reading to the diners. I saw the dormitories. The monks 
 sleep on boards covered with a thin piece of cloth or serge. Each 
 has his name written on his den. The Pereprieur does not sleep 
 better than the others. 
 
 My informant told me that the monks have only a very short 
 interval between prayer and toil and sleep ; and this is not 
 called recreation lest the recluse should be led to forget that he 
 is to have no enjoyment but what arises from the contempla- 
 tion of God. 
 
 If they sweat, they are not allowed to wipe their sweat from 
 their brows ; probably because they think this would be resist- 
 ance to the Divine command. 
 
 The monks labor but very little, from pure weakness. Among 
 the very few books in the strangers' room were two volumes of 
 the " Laws of the Order." I turned them over. Among the 
 laws was a list of all those portions of the Old Testament 
 
14 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 which the monks were prohibited reading. Certainly this was 
 not a mutilation of the sacred writings which the Protestants 
 have any right to make a matter of reproach. On my going 
 aw^ay, the priest who had first spoken to me came again, and 
 asked me my object in coming. I said, *^ A serious curiosity"; 
 that I wished to see their monastery ; that I knew^ Catholics 
 grossly misrepresented Protestantism from ignorance, and I 
 believed Protestants misrepresented Catholicism in like man- 
 ner. He took my hand at parting, and said : " Though you 
 are not of our religion, we should be glad to see you again. I 
 hope God in his grace will bring you to the true religion." I 
 answered : " I thank you for the wish. If your religion be the 
 true one, I wish to die a believer in it. We think differently ; 
 God will judge between us." Certainly this visit did not bring 
 me nearer to Roman Catholicism in inclination. 
 
 October 8th, — Came home by Dover, Hastings, and Brighton, 
 and returned to my chambers on the evening of the 15th 
 October. 
 
 October 15th, — Mrs. Aders speaks highly — I think, extrav- 
 agantly — of Masquerier's pictiu*e of me, which she wishes to 
 copy. She says it is just such a picture as she would wish to 
 have of a friend, — my very best expression. It need be the 
 best to be endurable. 
 
 November Jfth, — Walked to Newington. Mrs. Barbauld was 
 going out, but she stayed a short time with me. The old lady 
 is much shrunk in appearance, and is declining in strength. She 
 is but the shade of her former self, but a venerable shade. She 
 is eighty-one years of age, but she retains her cheerfulness, and 
 seems not afraid of death. She has a serene hope and quiet 
 faith, — delightful qualities at all times, and in old age pecu- 
 liarly enviable. 
 
 November 16th. — Called on Southern. He tells me that the 
 dining-club he proposes is to be in Essex Street, and to consist 
 of about fifty members, chiefly partisans of Bentham. Hume, 
 the M. P., is to be one, and Bowring, Mill, and others will join. 
 Southern proposes Hogg as a member. I have intimated a strong 
 doubt whether I would belong to it. 
 
 November 21st. — Dined at the Bar mess in Hall, and then 
 went to Lamb's. AUsop w^as there, an amiable man. I believe 
 his acquaintance with Lamb originated in his sending Cole- 
 ridge a present of £ 100, in admiration of his genius. 
 
 December 1st, — Called at Flaxman's. He has been very ill, 
 even dangerously, and is still unwell, but recovering. These 
 
1824.] SCHILLER. — SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 15 
 
 repeated attacks announce a breaking constitution. One of the 
 salt of the earth will be lost whenever this great and good man 
 leaves it. 
 
 December 3d, — A bad morning, for I went to book auctions, 
 and after losing my time at Southey's, I lost my money at Ev- 
 ans's 1 I bought the " Annual Register," complete, for X 19 b s. 
 This is certainly a book of reference, but how often shall I refer 
 to it ? Lamb says, in all my life, nineteen times. Bought also 
 the *' Essayists," Chalmers's edition, 45 vols., well bound, for 
 G^ guineas, little more than the cost of binding ; but this is a 
 lady's collection. How often shall I want to refer to it] Brydge's 
 " Archaica," 2 vols., 4to, published in nine one-guinea parts ; but 
 it is only a curious book, to be read once and then laid by. ^* Be- 
 ware of cheap bargains," says Franklin, — a useless admonition 
 to me. 
 
 December 10th, — Took tea at home. Mr. Carlyle with me. 
 He presses me to write an accoimt of my recollections of Schiller 
 for his book. T was amused by looking over my MSS., auto- 
 graphs, (fee. ; but it has since given me pain to observe the 
 weakness and incorrectness of my memory. I find I recollect 
 nothing of Schiller worth recollection. At ten went to Talfourd's, 
 where were Haydon and his wife, and Lamb and his sister ; a 
 very pleasant chat with them. Miss Mitford there ; pleasing 
 looks, but no words. 
 
 December IJfth. — E. Littledale sent me a note informing me 
 that the Douai Bible and Rheims Testament were to be sold 
 to-day, by Saunders. I attended, and bought them both very 
 cheap, — for 8 s, 6 d and 3 5. ^ d,\ but I also bought Law's 
 '* Jacob Boehme " for <£ 1 75. ; though 4 vols., 4to, still a foolish 
 purchase, for what have I to do with mystical devotion, who am 
 in vain striving to gain a taste for a more rational religion ] 
 Had I a depth of reflection and a strength of sagacity which 
 1 am conscious of not possessing, I might profit by such books. 
 
 December- 25th. — Christmas day. I dined by invitation with 
 Captain Franklin. Some agi^eeable people, whom I expected to 
 meet, were not there. And the party would have been dull 
 enough had not the Captain himself proved a very excellent 
 companion. His conversation that of a man of knowledge and 
 capacity, — decision of character combined with great gentle- 
 ness of manners. He is eminently qualified for the arduous 
 labor he has undertaken of exploring by land the Northern 
 regions, in order to meet, if possible, the North Pole naviga- 
 tors. Mrs. Franklin still remains very much an invalid. 
 
16 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1. 
 
 December SlsL — I went to a party at Captain Franklin's. 
 The Flaxmans were there, also Lieutenant Back, the former 
 companion of the Captain ; but the company too numerous for 
 interesting conversation. 
 
 I concluded the year at the Athenseum, a spot where, if my 
 health and other accidents of felicity which I have yet been 
 blessed in be preserved to me, I hope to have much enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 RemJ^ — When Southey was in town and breakfasted with 
 me, I mentioned to him that the Prussian government had 
 volunteered very extensive reforms in its administration, and 
 acquired so great strength by it, in the popular sentiment, that 
 it was mainly to be ascribed to this, that the successful resist- 
 ance to French oppression occurred. Southey said : " I wish 
 you would write an article on this for the Quarterly ^ I rudely 
 said : " I should be ashamed to write for the Quarterly^'' and 
 Southey was evidently offended. 
 
 But the article was written, and ultimately appeared in the 
 Quarterly^ though not precisely as written by me. It under- 
 went no change, however, beyond the insertion of a Greek 
 passage, and one or two omissions. It appeared in Vol. XXXI. 
 No. 62, published in April, 1825. 
 
 During this year there was a small rise in the amount of my 
 fees, from 445 to 469^^ guineas ; and I have to record the sud- 
 den death of my fellow-circuiteer, Henry Cooper. 
 
 Several incidents took place during the assizes at Bury, which 
 deserve notice as illustrative of the bad state of criminal law 
 and practice in the country. One man indicted pleaded guilty. 
 Eagle said : '^ I am your counsel ; say, ' Not guilty.' " With 
 difficulty, the Chief Baron interposing, he did. The prosecutor, 
 being called, refused to be sworn, and was sent to jail. I tried 
 to do without him, and failed. The man was acquitted. In 
 another case I defended, and, the evidence being very slight, the 
 Chief Baron stopped me and told the jury to acquit ; but the 
 jury said they had doubts, and, the Chief Baron going on, all 
 the prisoners were convicted, though against some there was no 
 evidence. 
 
 At Norwich another case occurred exhibiting the wretched 
 state of the law, in which I was the instrument of necessitat- 
 ing a reform. I defended a knot of burglars, against w^hom 
 there was a complete case if the evidence of an accomplice 
 were receivable, but none without. Now, that accomplice had 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
1820.J DR. SHEPHERD, OF GATEACRE. 17 
 
 been convicted of felony, and sentenced by a Court of Quarter 
 Sessions to imprisonment alone^ without the addition of a fine 
 or a whipping. And the statute restoring competence requires 
 an imprisonment and a fine or a whipping. Gazelee refused to 
 attend to this objection, and all were convicted ; but I called 
 on Edghill, the clerk of assize, and told him that, unless the 
 men w^ere discharged, I would memorialize the Secretary of 
 State. And in consequence the men were in a few days dis- 
 charged ; and Sir Eobert Peel, at the opening of the session of 
 Parliament, brought in a short act amending the law. Im- 
 prisonment or fine alone was rendered sufficient to give a res- 
 toration of legal credit. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 1825. 
 
 JANUARY 2d. — Dined at Christie's.* A very agreeable 
 afternoon. Captain, now Major GifFord, and the cousins 
 Edgar and Richard Taylor there. Had a fine walk to Lamb's. 
 Read to him his article on Liston, — a pretended life, without 
 a word of truth, and not much wit in it. Its humor lies in 
 the imitation of the style of biographers. It will be ill re- 
 ceived ; and, if taken seriously by Liston, cannot be defended. 
 January Jfth. — Breakfasted w4th J. Wood.f Shepherd, J of 
 Gateacre, the stranger whom we were to meet, Mr. Field, § of 
 Warwick, and R. Taylor present. We had a very pleasant 
 morning. Shepherd an amusing, and, I have no doubt, also 
 an excellent man. He related a droll anecdote, w^hich he had 
 just heard from the manager of Co vent Garden Theatre. '' We 
 have to do," said the manager, " with a strange set of people. 
 Yesterday there was a regular quaiTel between a carpenter and 
 a scene-shifter about religion. One was a Jew, whom the other, 
 a Christian, abused as belonging to a blood-thirsty race. ^ Why 
 am I blood-thirsty % ' replied the Jew. ' When my forefathers 
 
 * A merchant, one ol" whose daughters married Edgar Taylor, ah'eady re- 
 ferred to (see Vol. I. p. 199), and another, General Gifford. 
 
 t See Vol. I. p. 220. 
 
 X Rev. \Vm. Shepherd, LL. D., a friend of Lord Brougham's, and rnthor of 
 **The Life of Poggio Bracciohni." 
 
 § Author of " The Life of Dr. Parr." 
 
18 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 conquered Palestine they killed their enemies, the Philistines ; 
 but so do you English kill the French. We are no more 
 blood-thirsty than you.' — ' That is not what I hate your people 
 for ; but they killed my God, they did.' — ' Did they % Then you 
 may kill mine, if you can catch him.'" 
 
 Shepherd, like the radicals in general, was very abusive of 
 Southey, whom it was my difficult office to defend. Difficult, 
 not because he is not a most upright man, but because he and 
 his opponents are alike violent party men who can make no 
 allowance for one another. 
 
 January 17th, — There were but two appeals at the Bury 
 Epiphany Sessions. I succeeded in obtaining a verdict in both. 
 They were easy cases. On my saying of one of them, " The 
 
 case will be short," that insolent fellow, R , said, " Do 
 
 you speak in your professional or your personal character 1 " I 
 replied : " Sir, that is a distinction I do not understand. I 
 always speak as a gentleman and the truth." He blushed and 
 apologized, and said his question was only a joke. 
 
 February 11th. — Went to Covent Garden Theatre. A dull 
 time of it, though I went in at half price. The pantomime 
 a fatiguing exhibition, but the scenery beautiful ; and this is one 
 of the attractions of the theatre for me. A panoramic view 
 of the projected improvement of the Thames, by the erection 
 of a terrace on arches along the northern shore, is a pleasing 
 anticipation of a splendid dream, which not even in this pro- 
 jecting age can become a reality. 
 
 March 18th. — (Cambridge Spring Assizes.) Went to a 
 large party at Sergeant Frere's. Met there Julius Hare, the 
 youngest son of Mr. and Mrs. Hare, who noticed me at Weimar 
 in 1804. Julius was then a school-boy, but he has some recol- 
 lection of me ; and I was anxious to see him, as he had spoken 
 of me to Peacock.* Hare is a passionate lover of German 
 literature and philosophy. He has the air of a man of talent, 
 and talks well. I was struck with his great liberality. We 
 had so many points of contact and interest that I chatted with 
 him exclusively till past twelve, paying no attention to the 
 music, or the numerous and fashionable company. 
 
 Bem.'f — Hare became afterwards remarkable as one of the 
 authors of " Guesses at Truth," with his now deceased brother 
 Augustus, and also as a writer of eloquent devotional works, — 
 ^^ The Mission of the Comforter," (fee. Yet it is his misfortune 
 to satisfy no party. The High Church party consider him a 
 
 » Afterwards Dean of Ely. t Written in 1851. 
 
1825.] • A BAR DINNER AT THE ATHENiEUM. 19 
 
 heretic, on account of his intimacy with Bunsen and Arnold, 
 and especially his affectionate memoir of Sterling ; and he is 
 as much reprobated in the Record, the oracle of the Low 
 Church party. He is brother-in-law to Frederick Maurice. 
 He must be a man of wide charity and comprehensive affec- 
 tions who makes almost idols of Goethe, Coleridge, Words- 
 worth, Bunsen, Arnold, Maurice, and W. S. Landor. 
 
 April 15th, — After dining with the magistrates, I gladly 
 stole away to make a call on Hare. I had great pleasure in 
 looking over his library of German books, — the best collection 
 of modem German authors I have ever seen in England. He 
 spoke of Niebuhr's " Roman History " as a masterpiece ; 
 praised Neander's ^*St. Bernard," *' Emperor Julian," *' St. 
 Chrysostom," and " Denkwiirdigkeiten"; was enthusiastic about 
 Schleiermacher. Hare represents Count De Maistre as the 
 superior of De Lamennais. I am to read his " Soirees de St. 
 Petersbourg." After two very delightful hours with Hare, I 
 returned to the " Red Lion," and sat up late chatting with the 
 juniors. 
 
 April 22d. — In the evening called on C. Lamb. He and 
 his sister in excellent spirits. He has obtained his discharge 
 fi'om the India House, with the sacrifice of rather more than a 
 third of his income. He says he would not be condemned to a 
 seven years' return to his office for a hundred thousand 
 pounds. I never saw him so calmly cheerful as now. 
 
 May J/ih. — : A house dinner at the Athenaeum set on foot by 
 me. It went off very well indeed. I took the bottom of the table. 
 We had Edward Littledale at the top. The rest barristers or 
 coming to the bar, viz. : F. Pollock, Storks, Wightman, L. 
 Adolphus, Wood, and Amos, Dodd and his pupil, Lloyd, — not 
 an unpleasant man of the party. The conversation not at all 
 professional or pedantic. We broke up early. I remained at 
 the place till late. After my nap, Sir Thomas Lawrence came 
 in, Dawson Turner, &c. The President and Turner talked of 
 the present Exhibition, Turner asserting it to be superior to 
 the Exhibitions in the days of Sir Joshua. This Sir Thomas 
 denied. He said two or three paintings by Sir Joshua, with 
 one by Northcote or Opie, made an Exhibition of themselves. 
 In number, there is now a superiority of good works. Both 
 praised Danby's " Passage of the Red Sea," also a picture by 
 Mulready. Hilton and Leslie were named, and Hayter's 
 " Trial of Lord William Russell." The landscape by Turner, 
 R. A., was highly extolled. Yet I have heard that he is going 
 
20 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [CThap. 2. 
 
 out of fashion. Sir Thomas mentioned that the Marquis of 
 Stafford, on seeing Danby's picture, rode immediately to the 
 artist, and bought it for 500 guineas. An hour afterwards 
 Lord Liverpool was desirous of purchasing it. Sir Thomas 
 spoke of Mr. Locke* as having the greatest genius of all living 
 painters. Not that he is the greatest painter. I afterwards 
 learned from Flaxman that Locke was the son of a gentleman 
 once very rich, and was now too far advanced in years to have 
 recourse to painting as a profession. He had expressed to 
 Flaxman the very obvious sentiment : " How happy woi:Jd it 
 have been if, in early life, I had been under the necessity of 
 earning my ow^n livelihood ! " . 
 
 May 7tJi, — Went to the Exhibition, with the advantage of 
 having had my attention drawn to the best pictures, which, 
 for the most part, equalled my expectations. Turner, R. A., 
 has a magnificent view of Dieppe. If he will invent an atmos- 
 phere, and a play of colors all his own, w^hy will he^ not 
 assume a romantic name 1 No one could find fault with a 
 Garden of Armida, or even of Eden, so painted. But we know 
 Dieppe, in the north of France, and can't easily clothe it in 
 such fairy hues. I can understand why such artists as Con- 
 stable and Collins are preferred. Constable has a good 
 landscape, but why does he spot and dot his canvas ] The 
 effect is good on a great scale. CoUins's healthy scenes are 
 refreshing to look at. 
 
 May 10th, — Dined at Green's, Lincoln's Inn Fields. A large 
 party. Phillips, R. A., there, and his very pleasing wife ; Ward 
 and Collins, also of the Academy, and a Mr. Stokes, a disputer, 
 and so far an unpleasant companion, but said to be able and 
 scientific. 
 
 R€m.'\ — Yesterday, at the Athenaeum, I charged Stokes 
 (now my very agreeable acquaintance) with being this same 
 man. He pleads guilty, thinking his identity sufficiently lost 
 after twenty-six years. 
 
 May IJfih. — William Pattisson, Thomas Clarkson, and 
 Joseph Beldam, called to the bar. I dined with them on the 
 occasion. 
 
 Rem. X — Not many years ago, it was remarked by Beldam 
 that both of his companions met with an early and violent 
 death, — Pattisson drowned in a lake among the Pyrenees,§ 
 
 * In the Reminiscences Hope is the name. 
 
 t Written in 1851. % Written in 1851. 
 
 § See year 1832. 
 
1826.] SIR JAMES STEPHEN. 21 
 
 Clarkson thrown from vagig, and killed on the spot. But the 
 three young men and their friends rejoiced on the 14th of 
 May, with that ^' blindness to the futiu-e wisely given." 
 
 About this time my sister put herself under the care of 
 Scott of Bromley. She had known him when he was in somes 
 business or handicraft at Royston. He was an interloper, and 
 regular practitioners would not meet him in consultation. He 
 owed all his reputation and success to his skill as a bandager. 
 He was especially successful in the cure of sore legs, and the 
 heretic, Thomas Belsham, gave him the credit of prolonging 
 his life several years. I once heard Coleridge explain the 
 rationale of the treatment. " By a very close pressure, Scott 
 forces the peccant humor into the frame, where it is taken up 
 by absorbents, and expelled by medicine." My sister was 
 benefited for a time, and thought that an earlier application 
 to him might have saved her. 
 
 June 11th. — W. Pattisson with me. I went in the evening 
 to see Mathews, and was amused. But mere imitations of 
 common life, exposing oddities, cant phrases, and puerilities, 
 pall on the sense very soon. Where the original of an imitation 
 is known, the pleasure is enhanced. " Good night," pro- 
 nounced as Kemble, Munden, and others might be supposed 
 to pronounce it, amused me very much. 
 
 June 12th, — A very interesting day. I breakfasted early 
 and walked to Hampstead ; then proceeded to Hendon. The 
 exceeding beauty of the morning and the country put me into 
 excellent spirits. I foimd my friend James Stephen in a most 
 delightfully situated small house. Two fine children, and an 
 amiable and sensible wife. I do not know a happier man. He 
 is a sort of additional Under Secretary of State. He had pre- 
 viously resolved to leave the bar. being dissatisfied with the 
 practice in the Court of Chancery. He has strict principles, 
 but liberal feelings in religion. Though a stanch Churchman, 
 he is willing to sacrifice the ecclesiastical Establishment of 
 Ireland. 
 
 June 16th, — Finding myself released at an early hour from 
 my professional duties, I took a cold dinner at the Athenaeum, 
 and then went to Basil Montagu. Mr. Edward Irving was 
 there. He and his brother-in-law, Mr. Martin, and myself 
 placed ourselves in a chariot. Basil Montagu took a seat on 
 the outside, and we drove to Highgate, where we took tea at 
 Mr. Oilman's. I think I never heard Coleridge so very elo- 
 quent as to-day, and yet it was painful to find myself unable 
 
22 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2, 
 
 to recall any part of what had so delighted me, i. e. anything 
 which seemed worthy to be noted down. So that I could not 
 but suspect some illusion arising out of the impressive tone and 
 the mystical language of the orator. He talked on for several 
 hours without intermission. His subject the ever-recurring one 
 of religion, but so blended with mythology, metaphysics, and 
 psychology, that it required great attention sometimes to find 
 the religious element. I observed that, when Coleridge quoted 
 Scripture or used well-known religious phrases, Irving was con- 
 stant in his exclamations of delight, but that he was silent 
 at other times. Dr. Prati * came in, and Coleridge treated 
 him with marked attention. Indeed Prati talked better than 
 I ever heard him. One sentence (Coleridge having appealed 
 to him) deserves repetition : " I think the old Pantheism of 
 Spinoza far better than modern Deism, which is but the hypoc- 
 risy of materialism." In which there is an actual sense, and 
 I believe truth. Coleridge referred to an Italian, Vico, who is 
 said to have anticipated Wolfs theory concerning Homer, which 
 Coleridge says was his own at College. Vico wrote *' Principi 
 di una Scienza nuova," viz. Comparative History. Goethe, in 
 his Life, notices him as an original thinker and a great man. 
 He wrote on the origin of Rome. Coleridge drew a parallel 
 between the relation of the West India planters to the negroes, 
 and the patricians of Rome to the plebeians ] but when I in- 
 quired concerning the origin of the inequality, he evaded giving 
 me an answer. He very eloquently expatiated on history, and 
 on the influence of Christianity on society. His doctrines 
 assume an orthodox air, but to me they are unintelligible. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss Wordsworth. 
 
 June, 1825. 
 
 I have not seen the Lambs so often as I used to do, owing 
 to a variety of circumstances. Nor can I give you the report 
 you so naturally looked for of his conduct at so great a change 
 ' in his life The expression of his delight has been child- 
 like (in the good sense of that word). You have read the 
 " Superannuated Man." I do not doubt, I do not fear, that 
 he will be unable to sustain the " weight of chance desires." 
 Could he — but I fear he cannot — occupy himself in some 
 gTeat work requiring continued and persevering attention and 
 labor, the benefit would be equally his and the world's. Mary 
 
 * An Italian : a lawyer by profession. 
 
1825.] WILLIAM HONE. — ENDLESS PUNISHMENT. 23 
 
 Lamb has remained so long well, that one might almost advise, 
 or rather permit, a journey to them. But Lamb has no desire 
 to travel. If he had, few things would give me so much 
 pleasure as to accompany him. I should be proud of taking 
 care of him. But he has a passion for solitude, he says, and 
 hitherto he finds that his retirement from business has not 
 brought leisure. 
 
 RemJ^ — I bought my first spectacles, July 8th, at Gilbert's. 
 I became first sensible of the want at the French Theatre, 
 where I could not read the bills. Flaxman advised my getting 
 spectacles immediately ; it being a mistake, he said, to think 
 that the eyes should be exercised when it causes them incon- 
 venience. I had no occasion to change the glass for some time, 
 and have changed but twice in twenty-six years ; nor, happily, 
 in my seventy-seventh year do I remark any increased symp- 
 tom of decaying sight. 
 
 October 11th. — In the latter part of the day went to Lamb's. 
 He seemed to me in better health and spirits. But Hone the 
 parodist was with him, and society relieves Lamb. The con- 
 versation of Hone, or rather his manners, pleased me. He is 
 a modest, unassuming man. 
 
 October 29th. — Tea with Anthony Robinson. A long and 
 serious talk with him on religion, and on that inexplicable rid- 
 dle, the origin of evil. He remarked that the amount of pain 
 here justifies the idea of pain hereafter, and so the popular 
 notion of punishment is authorized. But I objected that evil 
 or pain here may be considered a mean towards an end. So 
 may pain, inflicted as a punishment. Bat endless punishment 
 would be itself an end in a state where no ulterior object could 
 be conceived. Anthony Robinson declared this to be a better 
 answer to the doctrine of eternal punishment than any given 
 by Price or Priestley. Leibnitz, who in terms asserts " eternal 
 punishment," explains away the idea by afiirming merely that 
 the consequences of sin must be eternal, and that a lower de- 
 gree of bliss is an eternal punishment. 
 
 November 1st, — Dined at Wardour Street, and then went 
 to Flaxman. The family being at dinner, I strolled in the 
 Regent's Park. The splendor and magnitude of these im- 
 provements are interesting subjects of observation and specu- 
 lation. At Flaxman's a pleasing visit. He was characteristic. 
 I find that his dislike to Southey originates in the latter's ac- 
 count of Swedenborg and the doctrines of the sect in his 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
24 REMINISCENCES OF HENKV CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 " Espriella." Flaxman cannot forgive derision on such a sub- 
 ject. To my surprise, he expressed disapprobation of the 
 opening of St. Bride's steeple.* ^' It is an ugly thing, and 
 better hid." On inquiry, I found that his objection is not con- 
 fined to the lower part of the tower, in which I should have 
 concurred, for I think the upper part or spire alone beautiful ; 
 but he objects to the spire itself, and indeed to almost every 
 spire attached to Grecian buildings. He makes an exception 
 in favor of Bow Church. 
 
 November 20th, Sunday, — Hundleby and William Pattisson 
 took breakfast with me, and then we went to Irving's church. 
 He kept us nearly three hours. But after a very dull expo- 
 sition of a very obscure chapter in Hebrews, we had a very 
 powerful discourse, — the commencement of a series on Justi- 
 fication by Faith. That which he calls religion and the gos- 
 pel is a something I have a repugnance to. I must, indeed, 
 be new-born before T can accept it. But his eloquence is capti- 
 vating. He speaks like a man profoundly convinced of the 
 truth of what he teaches. He has no cant, hypocrisy, or il- 
 liberality. His manner is improved. He is less theatrical 
 than he was a year ago. 
 
 November 27th, — A half-hour after midnight died Mr. Col- 
 lier. The last two days he was conscious of his approaching 
 end. On his mentioning a subject which T thought had better 
 be postponed, I said : " We will leave that till to-morrow." — « 
 ^* To-morrow 1 " he exclaimed, " to-morrow '^ That may be 
 ages ! " These words were prophetic, and the last I heard 
 from him. He was one of the oldest of my friends. 
 
 December 10th, — Dined with Aders. A very remarkable 
 and interesting evening. The party at dinner Blake the paint- 
 er, and Linnell, also a painter. In the evening, Miss Denman 
 and Miss Flaxman came. 
 
 Shall I call Blake artist, genius, mystic, or madman 1 Prob- 
 ably he is all. I will put down without method w^hat I can 
 recollect of the conversation of this remarkable man.f He has 
 a most interesting appearance. He is now old (sixty-eight), 
 
 * The Fleet Street houses to the north had, till lately, formed a continuous 
 range in front of the church. 
 
 t The substance of H. C. R.'s intercourse with Blake is given in a paper of 
 Recollections, which may be found in Gilchrist's " Life of William Blake," 
 vide pp. 337 - 344, 348 - 350, &c. In the present work, H. C. R.'s interviews with 
 that remarkable man will be given, for the most part, from the Diary, written 
 just after they took place. In the National Portrait Gallery may be seen a 
 fine portrait of Blake, by Thomas Phillips, R. A. A beautiful rniniature of 
 him has also been painted by Mr. Linnell, which he still possesses. 
 
1825.] BLAKE'S RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 25 
 
 pale, with a Socratic countenance and an expression of great 
 sweetness, though with something of languor about it except 
 when animated, and then he has about him an air of inspira- 
 tion. The conversation turned on art, poetry, and religion. 
 He brought with him an engraving of his "Canterbury Pilgrims." 
 One of the figures in it is like a figure in a picture belonging to 
 Mr. Aders. *' They say I stole it from this picture," said 
 Blake, " but I did it twenty years before I knew of this picture. 
 However, in my youth, I was always studying paintings of this 
 kind. No wonder there is a resemblance." In this he seemed 
 to explain humanly what he had done. But at another time 
 he spoke of his paintings as being what he had seen in his 
 visions. And when he said " my visions," it was in the ordinary 
 unemphatic tone in which we speak of every -day matters. In 
 the same tone he said repeatedly, " The Spirit told me." I 
 took occasion to say : " You express yourself as Socrates used 
 to do. What resemblance do you suppose there is between 
 your spirit and his']" — ^'The same as between our counte- 
 nances." He paused and added, "I was Socrates " ] and then, 
 as if correcting himself, said, " a sort of brother. I must have 
 had conversations with him. So I had with Jesus Christ. I 
 have an obscure recollection of having been with both of them." 
 I suggested, on philosophical grounds, the impossibility of sup- 
 posing an immortal being created, an eternity a parte post 
 without an eternity cl parte ante. His eye brightened at this, 
 and he fully concurred with me. *' To be sure, it is impossi- 
 ble. We are all coexistent with God, members of the Divine 
 body. We are all partakers of the Divine nature." In this, 
 by the by, Blake has but adopted an ancient Greek idea. As 
 connected with this idea, I will mention here, though it formed 
 part of our talk as we were walking homeward, that on my 
 asking in what light he viewed the great question concerning 
 the deity of Jesus Christ, he said : "He is the only God. But 
 then," he added, " and so .am I, and so are you." He had just 
 before (and that occasioned my question) been speaking of the 
 errors of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ should not have allowed 
 himself to be crucified, and should not have attacked the gov- 
 ernment. On my inquiring how this view could be reconciled 
 r with the sanctity and Divine qualities of Jesus, Blake said : 
 
 I " He was not then become the Father." Connecting, as well 
 
 j as one can, these fragmentary sentiments, it would be hard to 
 
 1 f]X Blake's station between Christianity, Platonism, and Spi- 
 
 nozism. Yet he professes to be very hostile to Plato, and 
 
 VOL. II. 2 
 
26 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 reproaches Wordsworth with being not a Christian, but a 
 Platonist. 
 
 It is one of the subtle remarks of Hume, on certain religious 
 speculations, that the tendency of them is to make men indif- 
 ferent to whatever takes place, by destroying all ideas of good 
 and evil. I took occasion to apply this remark to something 
 Blake had said. ^' If so," I said, '' there is no use in discipline 
 or education, — no difference between good and evil." He 
 hastily broke in upon me : ** There is no use in education. I 
 hold it to be wrong. It is the great sin. It is eating of the 
 tree of the knowledge of good and evil. This was the "fault of 
 Plato. He knew of nothing but the virtues and vices, and good 
 and evil. There is nothing in all that. Everything is good 
 in God's eyes." On my putting the obvious question, "Is 
 there nothing absolutely evil in what men do ]" — "I am no 
 judge of that. Perhaps not in God's eyes." He sometimes 
 spoke as if he denied altogether the existence of evil, and as if 
 we had nothing to do with right and wrong ; it being suffi- 
 cient to consider all things as alike the work of God. Yet 
 at other times he spoke of there being error in heaven. I 
 asked about the moral character of Dante, in writing his 
 " Vision," — was he pure ? — '' Pure," said Blake, ''do you think 
 there is any purity in God's eyes ? The angels in heaven are 
 no more so than we. ' He chargeth his angels with folly.' " 
 He afterwards represented the Supreme Being as liable to 
 error. " Did he not repent him that he had made Nineveh 1 " 
 It is easier to repeat the personal remarks of Blake than these 
 metaphysical speculations, so nearly allied to the most oppo- 
 site systems of philosophy. Of himself, he said he acted by 
 command. The Spirit said to him, " Blake, be an artist, and 
 nothing else." In this there is felicity. His eye glistened 
 while he spoke of the joy of devoting himself solely to divine 
 art. Art is inspiration. When Michael Angelo, or Raphael, 
 or Mr. Flaxman, does any of his fine things, he does them in 
 the Spirit. Blake said : '' I should be sorry if I had any earth- 
 ly fame, for whatever natural glory a man has is so much taken 
 from his spiritual glory. I wish to do nothing for profit. I wish 
 to live for art. I want nothing whatever. I am quite happy." 
 
 Among the unintelligible things he expressed was his distinc- 
 tion between the natural world and the spiritual. The natural 
 world must be consumed. Incidentally, Swedenborg was re- 
 ferred to. Blake said : *' He was a divine teacher. He has 
 done much good, and will do much. He has corrected many 
 
1825.] BLAKE ON WORDSWORTH. — APHORISMS. 27 
 
 errors of Popery, and also of Luther and Calvin. Yet Swede n- 
 borg was wrong in endeavoring to explain to the rational fac- 
 ulty what the reason cannot comprehend. He should have left 
 that." Blake, as I have said, thinks Wordsworth no Christian, 
 but a Platonist. He asked me whether Wordsworth believed 
 in the Scriptures. On my replying in the affirmative, he said 
 he had been much pained by reading the Introduction to " The 
 Excursion." It brought on a fit of illness. The passage was 
 produced and read : — 
 
 " Jehovah, — with his thunder and the choir 
 Of shouting angels, and the empjn-eal thrones, — 
 I pass them unalarmed.*' 
 
 This ''pass them unalarmed''^ greatly offended Blake, Does 
 Mr. Wordsworth think his mind can surpass Jehovah % I tried 
 to explain this passage in a sense in harmony with Blake's own 
 theories, but failed, and Wordsworth was finally set down as a 
 Pagan ; but still with high praise, as the greatest poet of the age. 
 
 Jacob Boehme was spoken of as a divinely inspired man. 
 Blake praised, too, the figures in Law's translation as being 
 very beautiful. Michael Angelo could not have done better. 
 
 Though he spoke of his happiness, he also alluded to past 
 sufferings, and to suffering as necessary. " There is suffering 
 in heaven, for where there is the capacity of enjoyment, there 
 is also the capacity of pain." 
 
 I have been interrupted by a call from Talfourd, and cannot 
 now recollect any further remarks. But as Blake has invited 
 me to go and see him, I shall possibly have an opportunity of 
 throwing connection, if not system, into what I have written, 
 and making additions. I feel great admiration and respect for 
 him. He is certainly a most amiable man, — a good creature. 
 And of his poetical and pictorial genius there is no doubt, I 
 believe, in the minds of judges. Wordsworth and Lamb like 
 his poems, and the Aderses his paintings. 
 
 A few detached thoughts occur to me. " Bacon, Locke, and 
 Newton are the three great teachers of Atheism, or of Satan's 
 doctrine." 
 
 " Everything is Atheism which assumes the reality of the 
 natural and unspiritual world." 
 
 '-'- Irving is a highly gifted man. He is a sent man. But 
 they who are sent go further sometimes than they ought." 
 
 " Dante saw devils where I see none. I see good only. I 
 saw nothing but good in Calvin's house. Better than in Lu- 
 ther's, — in the latter were harlots," 
 
28 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 " Parts of Swedenborg's scheme are dangerous. His sexual 
 religion is so." 
 
 " I do not believe the world is round. I believe it is quite 
 flat." 
 
 ** I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on 
 Primrose Hill. He said, *Do von take me for the Greek 
 Apollo ] ' — ' No,' I said ; ' that ' (pointing to the sky) ' is the 
 Greek Apollo. He is Satan.' " 
 
 ^' I know what is true by internal conviction. A doctrine 
 is told me. My heart says, ' It must be true.' " I corrobo- 
 rated this by remarking on the impossibility of the unlearned 
 man judging of what are called the external evidences of relig- 
 ion, in which he heartily concurred. 
 
 I regTct that I have been unable to do more than put down 
 these few things. The tone and manner are incommunicable. 
 There are a natural sweetness and gentility about Blake which 
 are delightful. His friend Linnell seems a great admirer." * 
 
 Perhaps the best thing he said was his comparison of moral 
 with natural evil. " Who shall say that God thinks evil % 
 That is a wise tale of the Mahometans, of the angel of the 
 Lord that murdered the infant " (alluding to the ^' Hermit " of 
 Parnell, I suppose). " Is not every infant that dies of disease 
 murdered by an angel % " 
 
 December 17th. — A short call this morning on Blake. He 
 dwells in Fountain Court, in the Strand. I found him in a 
 small room, which seems to be both a working-room and a bed- 
 room. Nothing could exceed the squalid air both of the apart- 
 ment and his dress ; yet there is diffused over him an air of 
 natural gentility. His wife has a good expression of counte- 
 nance. 
 
 I found him at work on Dante. The book (Gary) and his 
 sketches before him. He sho\ved me his designs, of which I 
 have nothing to say but that they evince a power I should not 
 have anticipated, of grouping and of throwing grace and inter- 
 est over conceptions monstrous and horrible, f 
 
 Our conversation began about Dante. He w^as an Atheist, 
 ' — a mere politician, busied about this world, as Milton was, 
 till in his old age he returned to God, whom he had had in his 
 childhood." 
 
 I tried to ascertain from Blake whether this charge of Athe- 
 
 * Linnell aided Blake during his life, and after his death took care of his 
 widow. Linnell possesses a grand collection of Blake's works. 
 t Linnell possesses the whole series of the Dante drawings. 
 
1825.J BLAKE OX THE FALL OF iL\N. 29 
 
 ism was not to be understood in a different sense from that 
 which w^oiild be given to it according to the popular use of the 
 word. But he would not admit this. Yet when he in like 
 manner charged Locke with Atheism, and I remarked that 
 Locke wrote on the evidences of Christianity and lived a vir- 
 tuous life, Blake had nothing to say in reply. Nor did he 
 make the charge of wilful deception. I admitted that Locke's 
 doctrine leads to Atheism, and with this view Blake seemed to 
 be satisfied. 
 
 From this subject we passed over to that of good and evil, on 
 which he repeated his former assertions more decidedly. He 
 allowed, indeed, that there are errors, mistakes, &c. ; and if 
 these be evil, then there is evil. But these are only negations. 
 Nor would he admit that any education should be attempted, 
 except that of the cultivation of the imagination and fine arts. 
 ^' What are called the vices in the natural world are the high- 
 est sublimities in the spiritual world." When I asked wheth- 
 er, if he had been a father, he would not have grieved if his 
 child had become vicious or a great criminal, he answered : 
 " When I am endeavoring to think rightly, I must not regard 
 my own any more than other people's weaknesses." And when 
 I again remarked that this doctrine puts an end to all exertion, 
 or even wish to change anything, he made no reply. 
 
 We spoke of the Devil, and I observed that, when a child, I 
 thought the Manichean doctrine, or that of two principles, a 
 rational one. He assented to this, and in confirmation asserted 
 that he did not believe in the omnipotence of God. The 
 language of the Bible on that subject is only poetical or alle- 
 gorical. Yet soon afterwards he denied that the natural world 
 is anything. " It is all nothing ; and Satan's empire is the 
 empire of nothing." 
 
 He reverted soon to his favorite expression, " My visions." 
 " I saw Milton, and he told me to beware of being misled 
 by his ' Paradise Lost.' In particular, he wished me to show 
 the falsehood of the doctrine, that carnal pleasures arose from 
 the Fall. The Fall could not produce any pleasure." As he 
 spoke of Milton's appearing to him, I asked whether he 
 resembled the prints of him. He answered, '' All." — " What 
 age did he appear to be ] " — '' Various ages, — sometimes 
 a very old man." He spoke of Milton as being at one time 
 a sort of classical Atheist, and of Dante as being now 
 with God. His faculty of vision, he says, he has had fi'om 
 ^varly infancy. He thinks all men partake of it, but it is lost 
 
30 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 for want of being cultivated. He eagerly assented to a re- 
 mark I made, that all men have all faculties in a greater or 
 less degree. 
 
 I am to continue my visits, and to read to him Wordsworth, 
 of whom he seems to entertain a high idea. 
 
 Dined with Flanagan at Richard's Coffee-House. A pleas- 
 ant party. Frith, Reader, Brent, Dr. Badham, Hawkins, Long, 
 Martin Shee, Storks, and myself I was placed next to Shee, 
 R. A. He gratified me much by his warm praise of Flaxman, 
 speaking of him as by far the greatest artist of his country, 
 though his worth is disgracefully overlooked. Shee would not 
 hear of a comparison between Flaxman and his more success- 
 ful rival, Chantrey. Dr. Badham was on my other side, and 
 talked very agreeably. He has travelled in Greece. 
 
 December 22d, — A short call on Flaxman. I find that, 
 though he is a decided spiritualist, he is a believer in phrenol- 
 ogy. In Swedenborg, there is a doctrine which reconciles him 
 to Gall's seemingly materialistic doctrine, viz. the mind forms 
 the body ; and Flaxman believes that the form of the skull is 
 modified in after life by the intellectual and moral character. 
 
 December 2Jfih. — A call on Blake, — my third interview. 
 I read to him Wordsworth's incomparable ode,* which he 
 heartily enjoyed. But he repeated : " I fear Wordsworth loves 
 nature, and nature is the work of the Devil. The Devil is in 
 us as far as w^e are nature. On my inquiring whether the 
 Devil, as having less power, would not be destroyed by God, 
 he denied that God has any power, and asserted that the Devil 
 is eternally created, — not by God, but by God's permission. 
 And when I objected that permission implies power to prevent, 
 he did not seem to understand me. The parts of Wordsworth's 
 ode which Blake most enjoyed were the most obscure, — at all 
 events, those which I least like and comprehend. 
 
 December 27th. — (At Royston.) This morning I read to 
 the young folks Mrs. Barbauld's " Legacy." This delightful 
 book has in it some of the sweetest things I ever read. " The 
 King in his Castle," and '* True Magicians," are perfect alle- 
 gories, in Mrs. Barbauld's best style. Some didactic pieces are 
 also delightful. We had a family dinner at Mr. Wedd Nash's. 
 Mr. Nash, Sen., was of the party. He, however, took no 
 share in the conversation. His mind is, in fact, gone ; but — 
 and this is singular — his heart remains. He is as amiable, 
 
 * " Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.** 
 Vol. V. p. 103; edition 1857. 
 
1825.] ANNUAL RETROSPECT. 31 
 
 as conscientious, as pure, as delicate in his moral feelings as 
 ever. His health continues good, but a fit of the gout prevented 
 my seeing much of him. And I believe I shall never see him 
 again. He is a model of goodness, but, as the bigots think, a 
 child of wrath, being a heretic. 
 
 Rem.^ — This year my fees rose from 469 J guineas to 677|-, 
 — a very^ large increase in amount, but very far from flatter- 
 ing. The increase arose chiefly from the death of Henry 
 Cooper,! in the summer. If a stroke of wit occuiTed to him, 
 he would blurt it out, even though it told against himself. 
 And sometimes I succeeded in making this apparent. Still, 
 how^ever, with all his faults, and though he was as little of a 
 lawyer almost as myself, his death caused a vacancy which I 
 was unable to fill. 
 
 I wrote to Miss Wordsworth in August : " In Norfolk, I 
 started for the first time a leader, — holding briefs in sixteen 
 out of seventeen causes, in nine of which I was either senior 
 or alone." 
 
 At the Aylesbury Assizes, there was a trial which exhibited 
 the aristocratic character of our nation. An Eton boy was in- 
 dicted for murder, he having killed another boy in a boxing- 
 match. It was not a case for a conviction, — perhaps not for 
 manslaughter, though, had the fight taken place between two 
 stable-boys, that, probably, would have been the verdict. But 
 what disgusted me was that Lord Nugent stood in the dock 
 by the side of the boy, and I did not scruple to tell him so. 
 His desire was to mitigate the boy's pain. The family of the 
 killed boy took no part in the prosecution, and the judge dis- 
 missed the offender without a word of reproof. 
 
 During' this year I became a member of a whist club, which, 
 though small in number, made me more a man of expense. 
 And my being introduced to the Atheneeum was really an 
 epoch in my life. That club has never ceased to constitute an 
 important feature of my daily life. I had a place of resort at 
 all times, and my circle of acquaintance was greatly increased. 
 
 The death of old Mrs. Collier, past ninety, brought me into 
 further connection with Anthony SteiTy, the Quaker, — a most 
 benevolent man. My acquaintance with him began in an act 
 of rudeness towards him, in ignorance of the facts of the case. 
 He accepted my apology in a Christian spirit, which, indeed, 
 he showed throughout. I had to do with a considerable sum 
 of money in which he and had an interest. On the pres- 
 
 • Written in 1851. f See Vol. I. p. 419. 
 
-32 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2. 
 
 ent occasion Sterry proposed that, as there might be doubtful 
 points, I should be Chancellor, to decide them. Never had 
 arbitrator so easy a task, for Sterry took an opportunity of 
 saying to me, '' I would not boast, but I believe Providence 
 
 has favored me more than Friend . I wish, therefore, 
 
 that thou wouldst always give the turn in his favor, not mine.'* 
 
 And I ought to add that , on his part, seemed to be 
 
 equally unselfish. 
 
 Towards the close of this year, Thornton * became connected 
 with the Times. Barnes afterwards said to me, " We are obliged 
 to you, not you to us." I had mentioned Thornton to Walter. 
 
 This winter was rendered memorable by what was afterwards 
 spoken of as a crisis or crash in the mercantile world. Many 
 banks failed. Some friends of mine WTote to ask if I would turn 
 a part of my property into cash, and advance it to them. I con- 
 sented to do this ; but their apprehensions proved to be ground- 
 less, — the panic did not seriously affect them. To one friend, 
 to whom I could be of no service, I had the satisfaction of ad- 
 ministering comfort. His was the case of a man who, after a 
 life of industry and self-denial, finds the accumulations of more 
 than fifty years put in peril. He does not know whether he will 
 not be left destitute. And, to use his own words, he is ** too 
 old to begin life again, and too young to die." He talked very 
 philosophically, yet with feeling. 
 
 T spent my Christmas, as I had done many, at Eoyston. All 
 there were in low spirits, on account of the failure of the Cam- 
 bridge Bank. The Nashes say that, among their friends, nine 
 families are reduced from affluence to poverty, by unexpected 
 blows of adversity. Neither Wedd Nash's fine organ, nor Pope's 
 " Epistle on the Use of Riches," could keep up our spirits ; and, 
 notwithstanding good punch, our vivat to the New Year was not 
 a cheerful burst of glee. And never was there a less merry New 
 Year in London than the present. 
 
 * Thomas Thornton, who, in 1823, married Elizabeth, daughter of H. C. R.'s 
 brother Habakkuk. 
 
1826.] JOSEPH JOHN GURNEY. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 1826. 
 
 JANUARY 6ih. — A call on Blake. His conversation was 
 very much a repetition of what he said on a former oc- 
 casion. He was very cordial. I had procured him two sub- 
 scriptions for his " Job," from George Procter and Basil Mon- 
 tagu. I paid £ 1 for each. This seemed to put him in spirits. 
 He spoke of being richer than ever, in having become acquaint- 
 ed with me ; and he told Mrs. A that he and I were nearly 
 
 of the same opinions. Yet I have practised no deception inten- 
 tionally, unless silence be so. The strangest thing he said was, 
 that he had been commanded to do a certain thing, — that is, 
 to write about Milton, — and that he was applauded for refusing. 
 He struggled with the angels, and was victor. His wife took 
 part in our conversation. 
 
 January 9th. — My ride to Norwich to-day was diversified by 
 an agreeable incident-^- On the road, a few miles out of London, 
 we took up a very gentlemanly Quaker. He and I did not at 
 once get into conversation, and when it became light, I amused 
 myself by reading till the coach stopped for breakfast. Then 
 our conversation began, and permitted very little reading after- 
 wards. He told me his name on my making an inquiry con- 
 cerning Hudson Gurney. I was speaking to J. J. Gurney. We 
 soon entered on controversial subjects. I praised a work of 
 Quaker autobiography without naming it. He said : '' Thou 
 meanest ^ John Woolman ' " ; and added, " Let me not take 
 credit for a sagacity I do not possess. Amelia Opie has told 
 me of thy admiration of the book." We now knew each other, 
 and talked like old acquaintances. He is kind in his feelings, 
 if not liberal in his opinions. He read to me some letters from 
 Southey. In one Southey thus expressed himself : " I cannot 
 believe in an eternitj^ of hell. I hope God will forgive me if I 
 err, but in this matter I cannot say, ' Lord, help thou mine un- 
 belief " J. J. Gurney spoke of Mrs. Opie very kindly, and of 
 the recent death of her father. Dr. Alderson, as edifying. He 
 was purged from unbelief 
 
 February 3d, — The whole morning in the courts, waiting in 
 the Common Pleas for nothing ; but I saw a meeting of knights 
 2* 
 
34 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8, 
 
 girt with swords to elect the Grand Assize, a proceeding, it is to 
 be hoped, to be soon brushed off with a multitude of other anti- 
 quated proceedings, which time has rendered inconvenient. 
 
 February 6th, — Late at the Athenaeum. Hudson Gurney 
 was there. He related with great effect the experience of Fer- 
 guson of Pitfour. Ferguson was a Scotch Member, a great sup- 
 porter of Pitt's, both in Parliament and at the table. Not a re- 
 fined man, but popular on account of his good-natured hospital- 
 ity, and of the favor he showed to national prejudices. In his 
 old age he was fond of collecting young M. P.'s at his table, and 
 of giving them the benefit of his Parliamentary experience, which 
 he used to sum up in these few axiomatic sentences : — 
 
 " I w^as never present at any debate I could avoid, or absent 
 from any division I could get at. 
 
 " I have heard many arguments which convinced my judg- 
 ment, but never one that influenced my vote. 
 
 " I never voted but once according to my own opinion, and 
 that was the worst vote I ever gave. 
 
 " I found that the only way to be quiet in Parliament was 
 always to vote Avith the Ministers, and never to take a place." 
 
 February 18th. — Called on Blake. An amusing chat with 
 him. He gave me in his own handwriting a copy of Words- 
 worth's Preface to " The Excursion." At the end there is this 
 note : — 
 
 ^* Solomon, when he married Pharaoh's daughter, and became 
 a convert to the heathen mythology, talked exactly in this way 
 of Jehovah, as a very inferior object of man's contemplation. He 
 also passed him by * unalarmed,' and was permitted. Jehovah 
 dropped a tear, and followed him by his Spirit into the abstract 
 void. It is called the Divine mercy. Satan dwells in it, but 
 mercy does not dwell in him." 
 
 Of Wordsworth Blake talked as before. Some of his writings 
 proceed from the Holy Spirit, but others are the work of the 
 Devil. However, on this subject, I found Blake's language 
 more in accordance with orthodox Christianity than before. 
 He talked of being under the direction of self Reason, as the 
 creature of man, is opposed to God's grace. He warmly declared 
 that all he knew is in the Bible. But he understands the Bible 
 in its spiritual sense. As to the natural sense, he says : " Vol- 
 taire was commissioned by God to expose that. I have had 
 much intercourse with Voltaire, and he said to me, * I blas- 
 phemed the Son of Man, and it shall be forgiven me ' ; but 
 they (the enemies of Voltaire) blasphemed the Holy Ghost in 
 
1826.] , BLAKE ON HIS OWN WRITINGS. 35 
 
 me, and it shall not be forgiven them." I asked in what lan- 
 guage Voltaire spoke. " To my sensations, it was English. It 
 was like the touch of a musical kev. He touched it, probably, 
 French, but to my ear it became English." I spoke again of 
 the form of the persons w^ho appear to him, and asked why he 
 did not draw them. "It is not worth while. There are so 
 many, the labor would be too great. Besides, there would be 
 no use. As to Shakespeare, he is exactly like the old engrav- 
 ing, w^hich is called a bad one. I think it very good." 
 
 I inquired of Blake about his writings. " I have written 
 more than Voltaire or Rousseau. Six or seven epic poems as 
 long as Homer, and twenty tragedies as long as Macbeth." He 
 showed me his vision (for so it may be called) of Genesis, — 
 '^ as understood by a Christian visionary." He read a passage 
 at random ; it was striking. He w^ill not print any more. " I 
 write," he says, " when commanded by the spirits, and the 
 moment I iiave written I see the words fly about the room in 
 all directions. It is then published, and the spirits can read. 
 My MS. is of no further use. I have been tempted to burn 
 my MSS., but my wife won't let me." — " She is right," said 
 I. " You have written these, not fi*om yourself, but by order 
 of higher beings. The MSS. are theirs, not yours. You can- 
 not tell W'hat purpose they may answer unforeseen by you." 
 He liked this, and said he would not destrov them. He re- 
 peated his philosophy. Everything is the work of God or the 
 Devil. There is a constant falling off from God, angels becom- 
 ing devils. Every man has a devil in him, and the conflict is 
 eternal between a man's self and God, tfec, &c. He told me 
 my copy of his songs would be five guineas, and was pleased 
 by my manner of receiving this information. He spoke of 
 his horror of money, — of his having turned pale when money 
 was ofiered him. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss Wordsworth. 
 
 [No date, but the postmark is February.] 
 My dear Friend, — I did a mighty foolish thing when I 
 intimated at the close of my last letter that I should write 
 again very soon. This was encouraging — not to say inviting 
 — you to postpone writing till I had so written. NoW' I have, 
 you see, not fulfilled my intention. And I take up my pen 
 now, not so much because I have anything to say, as to dis- 
 charge myself of the sort of promise which such an intimation 
 
36 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 raised. And, besides, the quantity of what I shall then have 
 sent you will entitle me to some notice from you. 
 
 Of my friends here, there are few to mention. Clarkson, 
 Jun., you will probably soon see. He means to visit you, if 
 possible, on the circuit. He will give you all Playford and 
 Woodbridge news. The Lambs are really improving. If you 
 look into the last New Monthly Magazine^ you will be delighted 
 by perceiving that Charles Lamb is himself again. His pecu- 
 liar mixture of wit and fancy is to be found there in all its 
 charming individuality. No one knows better than he the 
 proportions of earnestness and gayety for his undefinable 
 compositions. His health, I think, is decidedly improving. 
 
 A few evenings ago I met at his house one of the attaches 
 to the great Lombard Street shop. He said that Mr. Words- 
 worth's works had been repeatedly inquired after lately ; and 
 that the inquirers had been referred to Hurst's house. This 
 led to a talk about the new edition, and the new arrangement. 
 Lamb observed : " There is only one good order. — and that is 
 the order in which they were written, — that is, a history of 
 the poet's mind." This would be true enough of a poet who 
 produced everything at a heat, where there is no pondering, 
 and pausing, and combining, and accumulating, and bringing 
 to bear on one point the inspirations and the wise reflections 
 of years. 
 
 In the last edition, — I hope I shall never see it, — of course 
 not meaning the variorum editions of Commentators, but in 
 the last of the author's own editions intended for future gen- 
 erations, the editor will say to himself, — aware of the habit 
 people have of beginning at the beginning, and ending at the 
 end, — How shall I be best understood and most strongly felt % 
 By what train of thought and succession of feelings is the 
 reader to be led on, — how will his best faculties and wisest 
 curiosity be most excited % The dates given to the table of 
 contents will be sufficient to inform the inquisitive reader how 
 the poet's own mind was successively engaged. Lamb disap- 
 proves (and it gave me pleasure to find I was authorized 
 by his opinion in the decided opinion I had from the first) of 
 tlie classification into poems of fancy, imagination, and reflec- 
 tion. The reader who is enjoying (for instance) to the top of 
 his bent the magnificent Ode which in every classification ought 
 to be the last, does not stay to ask, nor does he care, what fac- 
 ulty has been most taxed in the production. This is certain, 
 that what the poet says of nature is equally true of the mind 
 
\ 
 
 1826.] CLASSIFICATION OF WORDSWORTH'S POEMS. 37 
 
 of man, and the productions of his faculties. They exist not 
 in "■ absolute independent singleness." To attempt ascertain- 
 ing curiously the preponderance of any one faculty in each 
 work is a profitless labor. 
 
 An editor such as Dr. Johnson would make short work of it. 
 All the elegies, all the odes, all the sonnets, all the etceteras 
 together. But then your brother has had the impertinence to 
 plague the critics by producing works that cannot be brought 
 imder any of the heads of Enfield's " Speaker," though he has 
 not a few that might be entitled, A Copy of Verses. Why a 
 copy 1 I used to ask when a school-boy. Goethe has taken 
 this class of poems under his especial protection. And his 
 *' Gelegenheit's Gedichte " (Occasional Poems) are among the 
 most delightful of his works. My favorites of this class among 
 your brother's works are, ''■ Lady 1 the Songs of Spring were in 
 the Grove," and '' Lady ! I rifled a Parnassian Cave." 
 
 One exception I am willing to make in favor of the Sonnet, 
 though otherwise a classification according to metrical form is 
 the most unmeaning. 
 
 If I may venture to express the order that I should most 
 enjoy, it would be one formed on the great objects of human 
 concern ; though I should be by no means solicitous about any, 
 or care for the inevitable blendings and crossings of classes. 
 Were these poems in Italian, one grand class would be alia 
 hella Natura. Unluckily, we want this phrase, which both the 
 Germans and French have. Lev sclionen Natur gewidmet 
 Such a heading would be afi'ected in English. StiU, I should 
 like to see brought together all the poems which are founded 
 on that intense love of nature, — that exquisitive discernment 
 of its peculiar charms, — and that almost deification of nature 
 which poor Blake (but of that hereafter) reproaches your 
 brother with. As subdivisions, would be the Duddon, the 
 Memorials, the naming of places. One division of the Sonnets 
 would correspond with this great class. 
 
 After nature come the contemplations of human life, viewed 
 in its great features, — infancy and youth, — active life (viz. 
 the happy warrior), — old age and death. Collateral with these 
 are the affections arising out of the social relations, — maternal 
 and filial, — fraternal and connubial love, &c., &c., &c. Then 
 there is a third great division, which might be entitled The Age. 
 Here we should be forced to break into the Sonnets, in which 
 shape most of these poems are. Why is the " Thanksgiving 
 Ode " to be the last of this class ] It is a sort of moral and 
 
38 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 iiitellectual suicide in your brother not to have continued his 
 admirable series of poems ^* dedicated to liberty," — he might 
 add, " and public virtue." 
 
 • . • • • 
 
 I assure you it gives me real pain when I think that some 
 future commentator may possibly hereafter write : *^ This great 
 poet, survived to the fifth decennary of the nineteenth century, 
 but he appears to have died in the year 1814, as far as life con- 
 sisted in an active sympathy with the temporary welfare of his 
 fellows-creatures. He had written heroically and divinely against 
 the tyranny of Napoleon, but was quite indifferent to all the suc- 
 cessive tyrannies which disgraced the succeeding times." 
 
 A fourth class 'would be the religious poems. Here I have a 
 difficulty : ought these to be separated from the philosophical 
 poems, or united with them 1 In some of these poems, Mr. 
 Wordsworth has given poetical existence to feelings in which 
 the many will join ; others are moods of his own mind, mysti- 
 cal as the mob, — philosophical, as the few would say. I should 
 give my vote for a separation. The longer narrative poems, such 
 as the " White Doe," would form classes of themselves. 
 
 I have above mentioned Blake. I forget whether I have re- 
 ferred before to this very interesting man, with whom I am now 
 become acquainted. Were the " Memorials " at my hand, I 
 should quote a fine passage in the Sonnet on the Cologne 
 Cathedral as applicable to the contemplation of this singular 
 being.* I gave your brother some poems in MS. by him, and 
 they interested him, as well they might ; for there is an affinity, 
 between them, as there is between the regulated imagination of 
 a wise poet and the incoherent outpourings of a dreamer. Blake 
 is an engraver by trade, a painter and a poet also, whose works 
 have been subject of derision to men in general ; but he has a 
 few admirers, and some of eminence have eulogized his designs. 
 He has lived in obscurity and poverty, to which the constant 
 hallucinations in which he lives have doomed him. I do not 
 mean to give you a detailed account of him ; a few words will 
 serve to inform you of what class he is. He is not so much a 
 disciple of Jacob Boehme and Swedenborg as a fellow-visionary. 
 He lives as they did, in a w^orld of his own, enjoying constant 
 intercourse with the world of spirits. He receives visits from 
 
 * Probably these lines: — 
 
 " for the help of Angels to complete 
 This Temple — Angels governed by a plan 
 Thus far pursued (how gloriously!) by man." 
 
1826.] BLAKE DESCRIBED. 39 
 
 Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Voltaire, &c., and has given me 
 repeatedly their very words in their conversations. His paint- 
 ings are copies of what he sees in his visions. His books (and 
 his MSS. are immense in quantity) are dictations from the 
 spirits. A man so favored, of course, has sources of wisdom 
 and truth peculiar to himself I will not pretend to give you 
 an account of his religious and philosophical opinions ; they are 
 a strange compound of Christianity, Spinozism, and Platonism. 
 I must confine myself to what he has said about your brother's 
 works, and I fear this may lead me far enough to fatigue you 
 in following me. After what I have said, Mr. Wordsworth will 
 not be flattered by knowing that Blake deems him the only poet 
 of the age, nor much alarmed by hearing that Blake thinks that 
 he is often in his works an Atheist. Now, according to Blake, 
 Atheism consists in worshipping the natural world, which same 
 natural world, properly speaking, is nothing real, but a mere 
 illusion produced by Satan. Milton was for a great part of his 
 life an Atheist, and therefore has fatal errors in his " Paradise 
 Lost," which he has often begged Blake to confute. Dante 
 (though now with God) lived and died an Atheist ; he was the 
 slave of the world and time. But Dante and Wordsworth, in 
 spite of their Atheism, were inspired by the Holy Ghost. In- 
 deed, all real poetry is the work of the Holy Ghost, and Words- 
 worth's poems (a large proportion, at least) are the work of 
 Divine inspiration. Unhappily, he is left by God to his own 
 illusions, and then the Atheism is apparent. I had the pleasure 
 of reading to Blake, in my best style (and you know I am vain 
 on that point, and think I read Wordsworth's poems peculiarly 
 well), tlie ^' Ode on Immortality." I never witnessed greater 
 delight in any listener ; and in general Blake loves the poems. 
 What appears to have disturbed his mind, on the other hand, 
 is the Preface to " The Excursion." He told me, six months 
 ago, that it caused him a stomach complaint, which nearly 
 killed him. When I first saw Blake at Mrs. Aders's, he very 
 earnestly asked me, " Is Mr. Wordsworth a sincere, real Chris- 
 tian] " In reply to my answer, he said : ^' If so, what does he 
 mean by the worlds to which the heaven of heavens is but a 
 veil 1 and who is he that shall pass Jehovah unalarmed ] " It 
 is since then that I have lent Blake all the works which he but 
 imperfectly knew. I doubt whether what I have written will 
 excite your and Mr. Wordsworth's curiosity ; but there is some- 
 thing so delightful about the man, though in great poverty, he 
 is so perfect a gentleman, with such genuine dignity and inde- 
 
40 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 pendence, — scorning presents, and of such native delicacy in 
 words, &c., (fee, &c. — that I have not scrupled promising to 
 bring him and Mr. Wordsworth together. He expressed his 
 thanks strongly, saying : *^ You do me honor : Mr. Wordsworth 
 is a great man. Besides, he may convince me I am wrong 
 about him ; I have been wrong before now," &c. Coleridge 
 has visited Blake, and I am told talks finely about him. 
 
 That I might not encroach on a third sheet, I have com- 
 pressed what I had to say about Blake. You must see him 
 one of these days, and he will interest you, at all events, what- 
 ever character you give to his mind. 
 
 I go on the 1st of March on a circuit, which will last a 
 month. If you write during that time direct, " On the Nor- 
 folk Circuit " ; if before, direct here. 
 
 My best remembrances to Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth. And 
 recollect again that you are not to read all this letter to any 
 one if it will offend. And you are yourself to forgive it, com- 
 ing from one who is 
 
 Affectionately your friend, 
 
 H. C. R. 
 
 March 22d, — A consultation in a libel case for a Methodist 
 preacher. Rather a comic scene. The zeal as well as the 
 taste of the partisans of the prosecutor was shown in the brief. 
 One sentence I copy as a specimen : " This shameful trash, 
 originating in the profoundest malice, nurtured and propagated 
 on the base hope of extortion, has ingratitude unparalleled for 
 its stain, wickedness hitherto undiscovered for its nature, and 
 the indelible shame of its own reputation to seal the abhorrent 
 character of its crime." 
 
 March 23d. — Was much pleased with my great-niece 
 (daughter of Tom). She has as many indications of sensibil- 
 ity and talent as I ever witnessed in a child not much more 
 than two years old. She sings with apparently a full feeling 
 of w^hat she sings. 
 
 April 16th. — A report concerning sufficiently spread 
 
 to make his return from the Continent necessary. Yet A 
 says he is quite satisfied that the report is groundless. It can- 
 not be traced to any authority whatever, and it is of a kind 
 which, though highly injurious, might arise out of the most 
 insignificant of idle remarks. A says to B, " Nobody knows 
 
 why keeps abroad ; it is quite unaccountable. His 
 
 friends say nothing." B says to C, *' Have you heard why 
 
1826.] COLERIDGK'S -'AIDS TO REFLECTION." 41 
 keeps away 1 Can he be in difficulties 1 " In speaking 
 
 of the matter to D, C acknowledges that there is a suspicion 
 that is in difficulties, and adds : ^' I hope there is noth- 
 ing in it, for I had a high opinion of him. Better say noth- 
 ing." Surmises increase, and the whisper goes down to Z, and 
 comes back and crosses and jostles ; and unless some one gives 
 himself the trouble to write to the subject of these reports, he 
 comes home to find his reputation gone. 
 
 April 23d. — Called late on Lamb. He lent me a humor- 
 ous '^ Essay on Deformity," which I read with pleasure. It 
 is very much in Lamb's own style of humor, and is a piece of 
 playful self-satire, if not written in the assumed character of a 
 hump-backed, diseased member of Parliament. Published by 
 Dodsley, 1794, the author, William Hay, Esq. He would have 
 been known to the wits of his age.* 
 
 May 18th. — At night over Coleridge's " Aids to Reflection,'* 
 a work which has interested me greatly and occupied me much 
 of late. It has remarkable talent and strange singularities. 
 His religion that of the vulgar, his philosophy his own. This 
 work exhibits the best adaptation of Kantian principles to 
 English religious sentiment. 
 
 Eemj\ — That beautiful composition, in the special sense of 
 being compounded of the production of the Scotch Abp. Leigh- 
 ton and himself, I compared to an ancient statue said to be made 
 of ivory and gold, likening the part belonging to the Archbishop 
 to ivory, and that belonging to Coleridge to gold. Coleridge 
 somewhere admits that, musing over Leighton's text, he was not 
 always able to distinguish what was properly his own from what 
 was derived from his master. Instead of saying in my journal 
 that his philosophy is his own, and his religion that of the vul- 
 gar, might I not more truly have said that he was not unwilling 
 in some publication to write both e^oterically and ^a^oterically 'i 
 
 May 20th. — At Miss Sharpe's. A small but agreeable 
 party, — the Flaxmans, Aikins, &c. Samuel Rogers came 
 late, and spoke about Wordsworth's poems with great respect, 
 but with regret at his obstinate adherence to his peculiarities. 
 
 Rem.X — There was at this time a current anecdote that 
 Rogers once said to Wordsworth, *' If you would let me edit 
 your poems, and give me leave to omit some half-dozen, and 
 make a few trifling alterations, I would engage that you should 
 be as popular a poet as any living." Wordsworth's answer is 
 
 * Works on Deformity, &c., by William Hay. London, 1794. 4to. 2 vols, 
 t Written in 1852. ' % Written in 1852. 
 
42 REMINISCENCES UF HEXKV CUABB liOBlXSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 said to have been : ** I am much obUged to you, Mr. Rogers ; 
 I am a poor man, but I would rather remain as 1 am." 
 
 May 26th, — Mr. Scargill * breakfasted with me. A sensible 
 man. He said, an Englishman is never happy but w^hen he is 
 miserable ; a Scotchman is never at home but when he is 
 abroad ; an Irishman is at peace only when he is fighting. 
 
 Called on Meyer of Red Lion Square, where Lamb w^as sit- 
 ting for his portrait.! A strong likeness ; but it gives him the 
 air of a thinking man, and is more like the framer of a system 
 of philosophy than the genial and gay author of the " Essays 
 of Eha." 
 
 May 27th.' — At the Haymarket. An agreeable evening. 
 I saw nothing but Liston. In " Quite Correct " he is an inn- 
 keeper, very anxious to be quite correct, and understanding 
 everything literally. His humorous stupidity is the only 
 pleasant thing in the piece. In " Paul Pry " he is not the 
 mar-plot but the make-plot of the play, for by his prying and 
 picking out of the water some letter by which a plot is detect- 
 ed, he exposes a knavish housekeeper, who is on the point of 
 inveigling an old bachelor into marriage. Liston's inimitable 
 face is the only amusement. 
 
 June 5th, — A party at Miss Benger's. Saw Dr. Kitchener, 
 of gastronomic celebrity, but had no conversation with him. 
 A grave and formal man, with long face and spectacles. Other 
 authors were there, — a Mr. Jordan, the editor of the Literary 
 Gazette ^X a work I do not like ; Miss Landon, a young poetess, 
 — a starling, — the " L. E. L." of the Gazette, with a gay good- 
 humored face, which gave me a favorable impression ; an 
 Australian poet, with the face of a frog; and Miss Porter 
 (Jane), who is looking much older than when I last saw her. 
 
 June 12th. — With W. Pattisson at Irving's. We took tea 
 there. Some slight diminution of respect for him. He avowed 
 intolerance. Thought the Presbyterian clergy were right in 
 insisting on the execution of Aikenhead for blasphemy. § Yet 
 
 * The supposed author of the *' Autobiography of a Dissenting Minister." 
 
 t There is a lithograph by Vinter of this portrait in Barry Cornwall's " Me- 
 moir of Charles Lamb," p. 192. 
 
 X Literary Gazette^ and Journal of Belles Lettres^ Arts, Sciences, (fc. A 
 weekly periodical established in 1817, under the editorship of William Jerdan, 
 Esq., and continued by the Rev. H. Christmas. 
 
 § Thomas Aikenhejid, a student of eighteen, was hanged at Edinburgh, in 
 1697, for having uttered free opinions about the Trinity and some of the books 
 of the Bible. His offence was construed as blasphemy under an old Scottish 
 statute, which was strained for the purpose of convicting him. After his 
 sentence he recanted, and begged a short respite to make his peace with God. 
 This the Privy Council declined to grant, unless the Edinburgh clergj^ would 
 
1826.] COLERIDGK'S TALK DIFFICULT TO NOTE. 43 
 
 I cannot deny the consistency of this. The difficulty lies in 
 reconciling any form of Christianity with tolerance. There 
 came in several persons, who were to read the Prophets with 
 Irving. I liked what I saw of these people, but Pattisson and 
 I came away, of course, before the reading began. Irving has 
 sunk of late in public opinion in consequence of his writing 
 and preaching about the millennium, which, as he said this 
 afternoon, he believes will come in less than forty years. He is 
 certainly an enthusiast, — I fear, too, a fanatic. 
 
 June ISth. — Called early on Blake. He was as wild as 
 ever, with no great novelty. He talked, as usual, of the spirits, 
 asserted that he had committed many murders, that reason is 
 the only evil or sin, and that careless people are better than 
 those who, &c., &c. 
 
 June 15th. — Called at Montagu's. Eode with him, Mrs. 
 Montagu, and Irving to Highgate. Coleridge, as usual, very 
 eloquent, but, as usual, nothing remains now in my mind that 
 I can venture to insert here. I never took a note of Coleridge's 
 conversation which was not a caput mortuum. But still there 
 is a spirit, and a glorious spirit too, in what he says at all 
 times. Irving was not briUiant, but gloomy in his denuncia- 
 tions of God's vengeance against the nation for its irreligion. 
 By the by, Coleridge declaims against Irving for his reveries 
 about the Prophecies. Irving, however, pleased me by his 
 declaration on Monday, that Coleridge had convinced him that 
 he was a bibliolatrist. 
 
 June 17 th^ Rem.^ — Went down to Witham, and Pattisson 
 drove me to Maldon, that I might exercise my electoral fran- 
 chise. The Pattissons were then Whigs and Liberals, and Mr. 
 Lennard was their candidate. There was a sort of medium 
 man, a Mr. Wynn, a Tory, but less offensive than Quentin 
 Dick, a vulgar anti-papist. I gave a plumper for Lennard, 
 and made a speech on the hustings. I began wilfully with a 
 few sentences meant for fun, and gained a little applause. I 
 declared that I was an enemy to popish practices. But when 
 I turned round and said that the anti-Catholic laws were 
 of a popish character, and therefore I was against them, the 
 storm of hisses and screams was violent. One fellow cried 
 out : *^ Don't believe that feller, — he 's a lawyer, — he 's paid 
 for what he says." I enjoyed the row, and could well imagine 
 
 intercede for him; but so far were they from secondii g his petition, that they 
 actually demanded that his execution should not be delayed ! (See " Macau- 
 lay's History." Vol. IV. pp. 781-784.) 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
44 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 how a man used to being abused, and knowing that it is his 
 party, and not he, that is attacked, can very well bear it. 
 
 June 27th. — Dined at Flaxman's. Mr. Tulk, late M. P. 
 for Sudbury, his father-in-law, Mr. Norris, and a namesake of 
 mine, Mr. Robinson, I think an M. P. Our talk chiefly on 
 public matters. The littleness of this sort of greatness is 
 now so deeply impressed on me, that I am in no danger of 
 overestimating the honors which public office confers. The 
 quiet and dignity attendant on a man of genius, like Flaxman, 
 are worth immeasurably more than anything which popular 
 favor can give. The afternoon was as lively as the oppressive 
 heat would permit. 
 
 Irish Tour.* 
 
 July SOth. — I left London early by coach, and the journey 
 was rendered pleasant by an agreeable companion, the son of 
 an old and valued friend. On passing through Devizes, I had 
 a mortifying sense of my own forgetfulness, as well as of the 
 transiency of human things. There I spent three years at 
 school. But I could not without difficulty find an individual 
 in the place who knows me now. Not a school-fellow have I 
 any recollection of. The very houses had nearly gi'own out 
 of knowledge ; and an air of meanness in the streets was very 
 unpleasant to me. Yet, had I not been expected elsewhere, I 
 should have stayed a night at the Bear.f I could, perhaps, 
 have found out some once familiar walk. 
 
 We were set down at Melksham, twelve miles before Bath, 
 at the house of the mother of my companion, Mrs. Evans, a 
 widow, t Her sister-in-law and a cousin were there, one daugh- 
 ter and three sons, besides my companion. They seemed to 
 have one heart between them all, and to be as affectionate a 
 knot of worthy people as I ever saw. Mrs. Evans and her 
 sister were glad to see an old acquaintance, who enabled them 
 to live over again some hours they might otherwise have for- 
 gotten forever. 
 
 * This tour is given more at length than usual, as one in which Mr. Robin- 
 son himself felt especial interest. He says of it: " My Reminiscences of this 
 journey were written nearly eight years ago (i. e. in 1843), when I by no means 
 thought I should write so much ag^I have done, and when 1 hoped merely that 
 I might be able to produce something worth preserving for friends after my 
 death. I had already written an account of my adventures in Holstein in 
 1807, and what I wrote next is contained in the following pages." 
 
 t The inn formerly kept by the f^ither of Sir T. Lawrence. 
 
 X The widow of 'my excellent friend Joseph Evans, who died in 1812, 
 and who was a son of Dr. Evans of Bristol, Principal of a Baptist Colles^e 
 there — H. C R. 
 
 1 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. 45 
 
 August Jfth. — I proceeded to the Hot Wells, Bristol. 
 
 Rem.* — My journal expresses disgust at the sight of the 
 river Avon, " a deep bank of solid dirty clay on each side, with 
 a streamlet of liquid mud in the centre." I should not think 
 it worth while to mention this, were it not to add that a few 
 years since I found this Western port vastly improved by the 
 formation of a wet dock, so that the city is in a degree re- 
 lieved from the nuisance of a tidal river. I had the company 
 of a younger son of Mrs. Evans.f 
 
 August 5th. — I embarked in a steamer for Cork. The cab- 
 in passengers paid £ 1 each ; the steerage passengers 2 s, A 
 pleasant voyage, with pleasant companions, whom I have never 
 heard of since. 
 
 August 6th. — Landed early in the Cove of Cork. And four 
 of us were put on a jaunting-car or jingle. I w^as amused and 
 surprised by the efficiency of man and beast. The animal, 
 small and rough, but vigorous ; the driver all rags and vi- 
 vacity. He managed — how I could not conceive — to pack us 
 all on his car, and vast quantities of luggage too, with the 
 oddest tackle imaginable, — pack-thread, handkerchiefs, (fee, 
 (fee. 
 
 Rem.X — My first impression of the Irish poor was never 
 altered. The men were all rags. Those who did not beg or 
 look beggingly (and many such I saw) were worse dressed 
 than an English beggar. The women, though it was summer, 
 had on dark cloth cloaks. Yet, except the whining or howling 
 beggars, the gay ety of these poverty-stricken creatures seemed 
 quite invincible. 
 
 '• And they, so perfect is their miser}', 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement." 
 
 O'Connell one day, pointing to a wretched house, said to me, 
 " Had you any idea of so much wretchedness '? " I answered, 
 " I had no idea of so little wretchedness with such destitution." 
 
 August 7th. — I rose early and took a walk in the city. After 
 breakfast, seeing in the coffee-room two gentlemen who ap- 
 peared to be barristers, I presented my card to them, told them 
 I w^as an English barrister, and requested them to take me into 
 court. They complied with great politeness. The name of 
 one was Thwaites. The courts, two wretched buildings in the 
 
 * Written in 1843. 
 
 t Either he or his brother is now the printer and part proprietor of 
 Punch.— U. C. R., 1843. 
 X Written in 1843. 
 
46 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 shape of meeting-houses ; the jury sitting aloft in the gallery, 
 and the counsel, on one side, sitting so near the gallery that 
 they were obliged to lift up their heads ludicrously to catch a 
 glimpse of the foreman. 
 
 I went first into the Nisi Prius Court. Mr. Justice Torrens 
 was sitting. A very young-looking, fair-complexioned, mild 
 and gentlemanly man. A point of law was being argued. The 
 prominent man at the bar was a thick-set, broad-faced, good- 
 humored, middle-aged person, who spoke with the air of one 
 conscious of superiority. It was Daniel O'Connell. He began 
 to talk over with Mr. Thw^aites the point under discussion. I 
 could not help putting in a word. . ^* You seem, sir, to be of 
 our profession," said O'Connell. *' I am an English banister." 
 He asked my name, and from that moment commenced a series 
 of civilities which seem likely to be continued, and may greatly 
 modify this journey. He took me by the arm, led me from 
 court to court, as he had business in most cases, and yet found 
 time to chat w ith me at intervals all the day. He made much 
 of me, and, as I have no doubt, from a mere exuberance of 
 good-nature. 
 
 In the other court was Baron Pennefather, a man whom all 
 the bar praised for his manners as well as for his abilities. He 
 had nevertheless a droll air, with a simplicity somewhat quiz- 
 zical. 
 
 With the judges as well as the bar and the people O'Connell 
 seemed to be a sort of pet ; his good-humor probably atoning 
 for his political perversities, and, what must have been to his col- 
 leagues more objectionable, his great success. Bennett, K. C, 
 w^as his chief opponent, — a complete contrast. Wagget, Re- 
 corder of Cork, is a man of ingratiating sweetness of manner. 
 Among the juniors is O'Loghlen, a rising man w4th a good 
 face.* 
 
 . I found that business w^as transacted with more gravity and 
 politeness than I had expected. An insurance cause was tried, 
 in which both judges and counsel seemed to be at fault. It is 
 only recently that insurances have been effected here. On 
 questions of evidence greater latitude w^as allowed than in our 
 English courts. That is, there was more common sense, with 
 fewer technicalities. I amused myself attending to the busi- 
 ness, wdth one incident to divert my mind, and that is worth 
 mentioning. 
 
 * I have since met him at Rolfe's, when he, the Solicitor-General of Ireland, 
 was visiting the Solicitor-General of England. He died, lamented, as Master 
 of the Rolls. — H. C. R. 
 
 I' 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUB. 47 
 
 I recollected that among my school-fellows at Devizes was a 
 Cork boy, named Johnson. I had heard of his being an at- 
 torney. I recalled his countenance to my mind, — red hair, 
 reddish eyes, very large nose, and fair complexion. I looked 
 about, and actually discovered my old school-fellow in the 
 Under Sheriff. On inquiry, I found I was right in my guess. 
 When the judge retired, I went up to the Under Sheriff and 
 said, " Will you allow me to ask you an impertinent question '? " 
 His look implied, ^' Any question that is not impertinent." — 
 " Were you at school at Devizes 'i " — '' Yes, I was. Why, you 
 are not an old school-fellow ] " — '' Yes, I am." — "I shall be 
 glad to talk with you." Our conversation ended in my en- 
 gaging to dine w4th him to-morrow. 
 
 August 8th. — The morning was spent in lounging about the 
 environs of Cork, about w^hich I shall say nothing here. In 
 the afternoon I went to my old school-fellow, Johnson, whom I 
 found handsomely housed in the Parade. Accompanied him 
 and two strangers in a jingle to his residence at our landing- 
 place. Passage. From first to last I could not bring myself 
 back to his recollection ; but I had no difficulty in satisfying 
 him that I had been his school-fellow, so many were the recol- 
 lections we had in common. Johnson has a wife, an agreeable 
 woman, and a large fine family. He gave me an account of 
 himself. He began the world wdth a guinea, and by close atten- 
 tion to business is now at the head of his profession. For 
 many years he has been Solicitor to the Admiralty, Excise, 
 Customs, and Stamp Office. He is a zealous Protestant, — I 
 fear an Orangeman. I therefore avoided politics, for, had we 
 quarrelled, w^e could not, as formerly, have settled our differ- 
 ence by a harmless boxing-match. But our old school was a 
 subject on which we both had great pleasure in talking. Our 
 recollections were not always of the same circumstances, and 
 so we could assist each other. *' Do you remember Cuthbert ] " 
 said his daughter. " W^hat," said I, " a shy, blushing lad, very 
 gentle and amiable 1 " She turned to her father, and said : " If 
 we could have doubted that this gentleman was your school- 
 fellow, this w^ould be enough to convince us. He has described 
 Cuthbert as he was to the last." She said this with tears in 
 her eyes. He was the friend of the family, and but lately 
 dead. Johnson promised that if I would visit him on my re- 
 turn, he would invite three or four school-fellows to meet me. 
 
 The drive to Passage was very beautiful ; but the boy who 
 drove me did not keep his promise, to call for me before 
 nine, to take me back, and so I had to walk. 
 
48 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 August 9th, — This, too, a very interesting day. I rose 
 early, strolled on the fine Quay, and breakfasted. After eight 
 I was packed upon the Killarney Mail, with a crowded mass 
 of passengers and luggage, heaped up in defiance of all regula- 
 tions of Parliament or prudence. The good-humor with which 
 every one submitted to inconveniences was very nationaL I 
 was wedged in behind when I heard a voice exclaim : " You 
 must get down, Mr. Eobinson, and sit by O'Connell in front. 
 He insists on it." The voice was that of a barrister whom I 
 had seen in com% and who, by pressing me to change places 
 with him, led to my having as interesting a ride as can be 
 imagined; for ^'the glorious Counsellor," as he was hailed by 
 the natives on the road, is a capital companion, with high 
 animal spirits, infinite good temper, great earnestness in dis- 
 cussion, and replete with intelligence on all the subjects we 
 talked upon. There was sufficient difference between us to 
 produce incessant controversy, and sufficient agreement to 
 generate kindness and respect. Perceiving at first that he 
 meant to have a long talk on the stirring topics of the day, I 
 took an early opportunity of saying : " In order that we should 
 be on fair terms, as I know a great deal about you, and you 
 know nothing about me, it is right that I should tell you that 
 I am by education a Dissenter, that I have been brought up 
 to think, and do think, the Roman Catholic Church the greatest 
 enemy to civil and religious liberty, and that from a religious 
 point of view it is the object of my abhorrence. But, at the same 
 time, you cannot have, politically, a warmer friend. I think 
 emancipation your right. I do not allow myself to ask whether 
 in like circumstances you would grant us what you demand. 
 Emancipation is your right. And were I a Roman Catholic, 
 there is no extremity I would not risk in order to get it." 
 
 These, as nearly as possible, were my words. On my 
 ending, he seized me by the hand very cordially, and said : " I 
 would a thousand times rather talk with one of your way of 
 thinking than with one of my own." Of course the question of 
 the truth or falsehood of the several schemes of religion was 
 not once adverted to, but merely the collateral questions of a 
 historical or judicial bearing. And on all these O'Connell had 
 an infinite advantage over me, in his much greater acquaint- 
 ance w^ith the subject. He maintained stoutly that intolerance 
 is no essential principle of the Roman Catholic Church, but is 
 unhappily introduced by politicians for secular interests, the 
 priests of all religions having yielded on this point to kings 
 
1826] IRISH TOUR. 49 
 
 and magistrates. Of this he did not convince me. He also 
 affirmed - — and this may be true — that during the reign of 
 Queen Mary not a single Protestant was put to death in Ire- 
 land. Nor was there any reaction against the Protestants 
 during the reign of James IT. 
 
 Our conversation was now and then amusingly diversified 
 by incidents. It was known on the road that " the glorious 
 Counsellor" was to be on the coach, and therefore at every 
 village, and wherever we changed horses, there was a knot of 
 people assembled to cheer him. The country we traversed 
 was for the most part wild, naked, and comfortless. 
 
 I will mention only the little town of Macroom, because I 
 here alighted, and was shown the interi<^ of a gentleman's 
 seat (Hedges Eyre, Esq.), — a violent Orangeman, I was told. 
 However, in spite of the squire, there was in the town a signboard 
 on which was the very " Counsellor " himself, with a visage as 
 fierce as the Saracen's head. He would not confess to having 
 sat for the picture, and promised us one still finer on the road. 
 
 On a very wild plain he directed my attention to a solitary 
 tree, at a distance so great that it was difficult to believe a 
 rifle would carry a ball so far. Yet here a great-uncle of 
 O'Connell's was shot. He had declared that he would shoot a 
 man who refused to fight him on account of his being a 
 Catholic. For this he w^as proclaimed under a law passed after 
 the Revolution, authorizing the government to declare it lawful 
 to put to death the proclaimed individuals. He never left his 
 house unarmed, and he kept at a distance ft'om houses and 
 places where his enemies might lie in wait for him ; but he 
 had miscalculated the power of the rifle. 
 
 At one of the posting-houses there was with the crowd a 
 very, very old woman, with gray eyes, far apart, and an ex- 
 pression that reminded me of that excellent woman, D. W. 
 As soon as we stopped she exclaimed, with a piercing voice : 
 " that I should live to see your noble honor again I Do 
 give me something, your honor, to — " " Why, you are an 
 old cheat," cried the Counsellor. " Did you not ask me 
 for a sixpence last time, to buy a nail for yom* coffin ] " — ''I 
 believe I did, your honor, and I thought it." — " WeU, then, 
 there 's a shilling for you, but only on condition that you are 
 dead before I come this way again." She caught the shilling, 
 and gave a scream of joy that quite startled me. She set up 
 a caper, and cried out : " I '11 buy a new cloak, — I '11 buy a new 
 cloak ! " — ^' You foolish ol^ woman, nobody will give you a 
 
 VOL. II. 3 D 
 
50 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 shilling if jou have a new cloak on." — "0, but I won't wear 
 it here, I won't wear it here ! " And, when the horses started, 
 we left her still capering, and the collected mob shouting the 
 praises of " the glorious Counsellor." Everywhere he seemed 
 to be the object of warm attachment on the part of the people. 
 And even from Protestants I heard a very high character of 
 him as a private gentleman. 
 
 To recur once more to our conversation. On my telling him 
 that if he could prove his assertion that intolerance is not in- 
 herent in Roman Catholicism, he would do more than by any 
 other means to reconcile Protestants to Roman Catholics, — 
 that the fires of Smithfield are oftener thought of than the 
 seven sacraments -or the mass, he recommended Milner's 
 ** Letters to a Prebendary," * and a pamphlet on the Catholic 
 claims by Dr. Troy.t He said : '' Of all the powerful intellects 
 I have ever encountered, Dr. Troy's is the most powerful." 
 
 He related a very impoi-tant occurrence, which, if true, ought 
 by this time to be one of the acknowledged facts of history. + 
 During the famous rising of the Irish volunteers, in 1786, the 
 leaders of the party, the Bishop of Bristol, Lord Charlemont, 
 and Mr. Flood, had resolved on declaring the independence of 
 Ireland. At a meeting held for the purpose of drawing up 
 the proclamation, Grattan made his appearance, and confounded 
 them all by his determined opposition. " Unless you put me 
 to death this instant, or pledge your honor that you will aban- 
 don the project, I will go instantly to the Castle, and denounce 
 you all as traitors." His resolution and courage prevailed. 
 This was known to the government, and therefore it was that 
 the government assented to the grant of a pension by the Irish 
 Parliament. 
 
 We arrived, about four o'clock, at the mean and uncomfort- 
 able little town of Killarney. On our arrival O'Connell said, 
 
 * " Letters to a Prebendary; Being an Answer to Eeflections on Popery. By 
 the Rev. J. Sturges, LL. D. 'With remarks on the Opposition of Hoadlyism to 
 the Doctrines of the Church of England, &c. By the Rev. John Milner." Win- 
 Chester, 1800. 4to. 
 
 t Archbishop of Dublin. An Irish friend to whom I have shown this pas- 
 sage thinks that H. C. R. must have confounded names, and that it was of 
 
 appeared in 1780 or 1781. 
 
 + This anecdote does not seem to be correct as it stands. There was no 
 rising of volunteers in 1786; only a weak and ineffectual convention of 
 delegates. Their power had been already long on the wane. Flpod and 
 Grattan were then bitter enemies. Moreover, the grant (not pension) to Grat- 
 tan was in 1788. • 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. 51 
 
 just as I was about to alight : '^ You are aware hj this time 
 that I am king of this part of Ireland. Now, as I have the 
 power, I tell you that I will not suffer you to alight until you 
 give me your word of honor that on Monday next you will be 
 at the house of my brother-in-law, Mr. M'Swiney, at Cahir. 
 There I shall be with my family, and you must then accom- 
 pany me to Derrynane, my residence. Now, promise me that 
 instantly." — *^ I am too well aware of your power to resist 
 you ; and therefore I do promise." He took me to the Kenmare 
 Arms, and introduced me as a particular friend ; and I have 
 no doubt that the attentions I received were greatly owing to 
 the recommendation of so powerful a patron. A glance shows 
 me that this spot deserves all its fame for the beauty of its 
 environs. 
 
 August 10th, — Having risen early and begun my breakfast, 
 I was informed by my landlord, that four gentlemen would be 
 glad if I would join them in an excui'sion to the Lower Lake. 
 Two were a father and son, by no means companionable, but 
 perfectly innocuous. The other two were very good society ; 
 one Mr. J. White, of Glengariff, a nephew of Lord Bantry ; 
 the other a Mr. Smith, the son of a magistrate, whose family 
 came into Ireland under Cromwell. We walked to Koss Castle, 
 and there embarked on the lake for Muckruss Abbev, where we 
 saw bones and fragments of coffins lying about most offensively. 
 We next proceeded to the Tore Lake, landed at Tore Cottage, 
 and saw a cascade. At Innisfallen Island we had the usual 
 meal of roasted salmon. The beauties of these places, — are 
 they not written in the guide-books ] Our coxswain was an in- 
 telligent man, and not the worse for believing in the O'Dono- 
 ghue and his spectral appearances. 
 
 Augtist 11th. — Walked up the mountain Mangerton. Had 
 a little boy for our guide. He took us by a glen from Mr. 
 Coltman's new house. On our way we saw a number of cows, 
 where the pasture is said to be rich, and our little guide pointed 
 out a ledge of stone where, he said, " a man goes a-summering." 
 He attends to the cows, and lives under the shelter of the 
 ledge of stone. We saw, of course, the famous Devil's Punch- 
 bowl. On the summit a magnificent mountain scene presented 
 itself Three gentlemen as well as ourselves were there, and 
 one of them, a handsome young man, with the air of an officer, 
 accosted me with the question whether I was not at Munich 
 three years ago, when a German student fought a duel. That 
 incident I well recollect. 
 
52 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 August 12th, — A drive to the Gap of Dunloe. Near the 
 entrance I observed a hedge-school, — some eight or ten ragged 
 urchins sitting literally in a ditch. The boatman said the 
 master is '' a man of bright learning as any in Kerry." A re- 
 markable feature in the rocks of this pass is that they take a 
 dark color from the action of water on them. The charm of 
 the Gap was the echo called forth in several places by a bugle- 
 man, a well-behaved man, and an admirable player. He played 
 the huntsman's chorus in " Der Freischiitz." I think he would, 
 without the echo, make his fortune in London. 
 
 At the middle of the Gap sat a forlorn, cowering object, a 
 woman aged 105. She is said to have survived all her kin. 
 She spoke Irish only. Her face all, wrinkles ; her skin like 
 that of a dried fish. I never saw so frightful a creature in the 
 human form. Swift must have seen such a one when he 
 described his Goldrums.* 
 
 August IJfth, — Took my place on an outside car (a Rus- 
 sian drosky, in fact), a by no means inconvenient vehicle on 
 good roads. At five, reached the house of Mr. M'Swiney, at 
 Cahir. It would have been thought forlorn in England. In 
 Ireland, it placed the occupier among the honoratiores. Here 
 I found a numerous family of O'Connells. Mrs. O'Connell an 
 invalid, very lady-like and agreeable. There were six or seven 
 other ladies, well-bred, some young and handsome. It was a 
 strict fast day. The dinner, however, was a very good one, 
 and no mortification to me. Salmon, trout, various vegetables, 
 sweet puddings, pie, cream, custards, &c., &c. There was for 
 the invalid a single dish of meat, of which T was invited to 
 partake. On arriving at the table, O'Connell knocked it with 
 the handle of his knife, — every one put his hand to his face, 
 and O'Connell begged a blessing in the usual way, adding 
 something in an inaudible whisper. At the end every one 
 crossed himself I was told that O'Connell had not tasted 
 food all day. He is rigid in the discharge of all the formali- 
 ties of his church, but with the utmost conceivable liberality 
 towards others \ and there is great hilarity in his ordinary 
 manners. 
 
 After tea I was taken to the house of another connection of 
 the O'Connells, named Primrose, and there I slept. 
 
 August 15th. — I did not rise till late. Bad weather all day. 
 Tlie morning spent in writing. In the afternoon a large dinner- 
 
 * Struldbrugs. The editor fears it is impossible to correct ail H. C. R.'s 
 mistakes as to names. 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. 53 
 
 party from Mr. M^Swiney's. Before dinner was over the piper 
 was called in. He was treated with kind familiarity by every 
 one. The Irish bagpipe is a more complex instrument than the 
 Scotch, and the sound is less offensive. The yoimg people danced 
 reels, and we did not break up till late. O'Connell very lively, 
 — the soul of the party. 
 
 August 16th, — A memorable day. I never before was of a 
 party which travelled in a way resembling a royal progress. A 
 chariot for the ladies. A car for the luggage. Some half-dozen 
 horsemen, of whom I w^as one. I was mounted on a safe old 
 horse, and soon forgot that I had not been on horseback three 
 times within the last thirty years. The natural scenery little 
 attractive. Bog and ocean, mountain and rock, had ceased to 
 be novelties. We passed a few mud huts, with ragged women 
 and naked urchins ; but all was redolent of life and interest. At 
 the door of every hut were the inhabitants, eager to greet their 
 landlord, for we w^ere now in O'ConnelPs territory. And their 
 tones and gesticulations manifested unaffected attachment. The 
 women have a graceful mode of salutation. They do not cour- 
 tesy, but bend their bodies forward. They join their hands, and 
 then, turning the palms outward, spread them, making a sort 
 of figure of a bell in the air. And at the same time they utter 
 miintelligible Irish sounds. 
 
 At several places parties of men were standing in lanes. Some 
 of these parties joined us, and accompanied us several miles. I 
 was surprised by remarking that some of the men ran by the 
 side of O'Connell's horse, and were vehement in their gesticula- 
 tions and loud in their talk. First one spoke, then another. 
 O'Connell seemed desirous of shortening their clamor by whis- 
 pering me to trot a little faster. Asking afterwards what all 
 this meant, I learnt from him that all these men w^ere his ten- 
 ants, and that one of the conditions of their holding under him 
 w^as, that they should never go to law, but submit aU their dis- 
 putes to him. In fact, he was trying causes all the morning.* 
 We were driven into a hut by a shower. The orators did not 
 cease. Whether we rested under cover or trotted forward, the 
 eloquence went on. The hut in which we took shelter was, I 
 was told, of the bettermost kind. It had a sort of chimney, 
 
 * This IS worthy of note, especially for its bearing on one of the charges 
 •brought against the agitator on the recent monster trial. lie is accused of 
 conspiring to supersede the law of the land and its tribunals by introducing 
 arbitrations. I could iiave borne witness that he had adopted this practice 
 seventeen years ago, but it would have been exculpatory rather than criminat- 
 ing testimony. — H. C. R.. 1844. 
 
54 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 not a mere hole in the roof, a long wooden seat like a garden 
 chair, and a recess which I did not explore. The hovels I after- 
 wards saw seemed to me not enviable even as pigsties. 
 
 At the end of ten miles we entered a neat house, the only 
 one we saw\ Before the door was the w^eir of a salmon fishery. 
 Here Mrs. O'Connell alighted, and was placed on a pillion, as 
 the carriage could not cross the mountain. As the road did 
 not suit my horsemanship, I preferred walking. The rest of 
 the gentlemen kept their horses. From the highest point was 
 a scene, not Alpine, but as wild as any I ever saw in Scotland. 
 A grand view of the ocean, with rocky islands, bays, and prom- 
 ontories. The mouth of the Kenmare River on one side, and 
 Valentia Bay and Island on the other, forming the abuttals of 
 O'Connell's country, Derrynane. In the centre, immediately 
 behind a small nook of land, with a delicious sea-beach, is the 
 mansion of the O'Connells, — the wreck, as he remarked, of 
 the family fortune, which has suffered by confiscations in every 
 reign. The last owner, he told me, Maurice, died two years 
 ago, aged ninety-nine. He left the estate to his eldest nephew, 
 the Counsellor. The house is of plain stone. It was humble 
 when Maurice died, but Daniel has already added some loftier 
 and more spacious rooms, wishing to render the abode more 
 suitable to his rank, as the great leader of the Roman 
 Catholics. 
 
 I was delighted by his demeanor towards those who wel- 
 comed him on his arrival. I remarked (myself unnoticed) the 
 eagerness with which he sprang from his horse and kissed a 
 toothless old woman, his nurse. 
 
 While the ladies were dressing for dinner, he took me a short 
 walk on the sea-shore, and led me to a peninsula, where were 
 the remains of a monastery, — a sacred spot, the cemetery of 
 the O'Connell family. He showed me inscriptions to the 
 memory of some of his ancestors. It is recorded of the Uncle 
 Mavirice, that he lived a long and prosperous life, rejoicing in 
 the acquisition of wealth as the means of raising an ancient 
 family from unjust depression. His loyalty to his king was 
 eulogized. 
 
 O'Connell has an uncle now living in France in high favor 
 with Charles X., having continued with him during his emigTa- 
 tion. Circumstances may have radicalized the Counsellor, but 
 his uncle was made by the Revolution a violent Royalist 
 and anti-Gallican, as their ancestors had always been stanch 
 Jacobites. O'Connell remarked that, with a little manage- 
 
^^^^-] ^VMf ^^^^^ TOUR. IMHHP ^s 
 
 ment, the English government might have secured the Irish 
 Catholics as their steadiest friends, — at least, said he, signifi- 
 cantly, ''but for the Union." He represented the priests as 
 stanch friends to the Bourbons. They inflexibly hated Buona- 
 parte, and that is the chief reason why an invasion in his day 
 was never seriously thought of. '' But," said he, '' if the pres- 
 ent oppression of the Catholics continues, and a w^ar should 
 arise between France and England, with a Bourbon on the 
 throne, there is no knowing what the consequences might be." * 
 
 We had an excellent dinner, — the piper there, of course, 
 and the family chaplain. Tea at night. I slept in a very low 
 old-fashioned room, which showed how little the former lords 
 of this remote district regarded the comforts and decorations 
 of domestic life. 
 
 August 17th, — Rain all day. I scarcely left the house. 
 During the day chatted occasionally with 0' Council and vari- 
 ous members of the family. Each did as he liked. Some 
 played backgammon, some sang to music, many read. I was 
 greatly interested in the " Tales of the O'Hara Family." 
 
 August 18th, — Fortimately the weather better. 1 took a 
 walk with O'Connell. The family priest accompanied us, but 
 left abruptly. In reply to something I said, O'Connell re- 
 marked, " There can be no doubt that there were great cor- 
 ruptions in our Church at the time what you call the Reforma- 
 tion took place, and a real reform did take place in our Church." 
 On this the priest bolted. I pointed this out to O'Connell. 
 " 0," said he, "I forgot he was present, or I would not 
 
 have given offence to the good man He is an excellent 
 
 parish priest. His whole life is devoted to acts of charity. 
 He is always with the poor." 
 
 We walked to a small fort, an intrenchment of loose stones, 
 called a rath, and ascribed to the Danes. He considered it a 
 place of refuge for the natives against plundering pirates, 
 Danes or Normans, who landed and stayed but a short time, 
 ravaging the country. 
 
 " Our next parish in that direction," said O'Connell, point- 
 ing seaward, " is Newfoundland." 
 
 * I cannot help adverting to one or two late acts of O'Connell, which seem 
 inconsistent with his Radical professions on other occasions. His uniform 
 declaration in favor of Don Carlos of Spain against the Queen and her Liberal 
 adherents; his violent declamations against Espartero, and the Spanish Liberals 
 in general; and, not long since, his abuse of the government of Louis Philippe, 
 and his assertion of the right of the Pretender, the Duke of Bordeaux, to th© 
 throne. -H. C. R., 1844. 
 
56 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, a 
 
 The eldest son, Maurice, has talents and high spirits. He 
 is coming to the bar, but will do nothing there. He is aware 
 that he will be one day rich. He is fit to be the chieftain of 
 his race. He has the fair eye which the name O'Connell im- 
 ports. 
 
 I believe mass was performed every morning before I rose. 
 Nothing, however, was said to me about it. 
 
 With feelings of great respect and thankfulness for personal 
 kindness, I left Derrynane between twelve and one. I believe 
 my host to be a perfectly sincere man. I could not wonder 
 at his feeling strongly the injuries his country has sustained 
 from the English. My fear is that this sentiment may in the 
 breasts of many have degenerated into hatred. I did not con- 
 ceal my decided approbation of the Union ; on which he spoke 
 gently. Something having been said about insurrection, he 
 said : "I never allow myself to ask whether an insurrection 
 would be right, if it could be successful, for I am sure it would 
 fail." I had for my journey Maurice O'Connell's horse, named 
 Captain Rock. Luckily for me, he did not partake of the 
 qualities of his famed namesake. I did not, however, mount 
 till we had passed the high ground before the fishery. 
 
 Slept at Mr. Primrose's. 
 
 August 19th. — Returned to Killarney. A ride through a 
 dreary country, which wanted even the charm of novelty. 
 
 August 21st. — Before eight o'clock I left my friendly land- 
 lord. I was jammed in a covered jingle, which took us to 
 Tralee in three hours. Cheerful companions in the car, who 
 were full of jokes I could not share in. The country a wild 
 bog-scene, with no other beauty than the line of the Killarney 
 hills. Tralee is the capital of Kerry, and bears marks of pros- 
 perity. After looking round the neighborhood a little, I 
 walked on to Ardfert, where were the ruins of a cathedral. I 
 learned, from the intelligent Protestant family at the inn, that 
 book-clubs had been established, and that efforts were being 
 made to get up a mechanics' institution. 
 
 August 2Sd. — Having slept at Adare, I proceeded to Lim- 
 erick, the third city of Ireland. My impression not pleasing. 
 The cathedral seemed to me jail-like without, and squalid 
 within. One noble street, George Street. While at dinner I 
 heard of a return chaise to Bruff". My plan was at once formed, 
 and before six I was off". 
 
 August 2Jfth. — Rose early, and at eight was on the road to- 
 wards the object of this excursion, the Baalbec of Ireland, the 
 
h. 
 
 1826.] IRISH TOUR. 57 
 
 town of Kilmallock, which lies four miles from Bruff. " Etiam 
 periere ruinoey This fanciful epithet is intelligible. Though 
 there are only two remarkable ruins, there are numerous frag- 
 ments along the single street of the town. And the man who 
 was my cicerone, the constable of the place, told me that with- 
 in twenty years a large number of old buildings had been 
 pulled down, and the materials used for houses. He also told 
 me that there were in Kilmallock fifty famiHes who would 
 gladly go to America, if they had a free passage. Many could 
 get no work, though they would accept sixpence per day as 
 wages. I returned to Limerick, visiting on the way some 
 Druidical remains near a lake, Loughgur. During the day I 
 chatted with several peasant children, and found that they had 
 nearly all been at school. The schools, though not favored by 
 the priests, are frequented by Catholics as well as Protestants. 
 
 August 26th. — (At Waterford.) Waterford has the peculi- 
 arity, that being really like a very pretty village, it has never- 
 theless a long and handsome quay. Ships of large burden 
 are in the river, and near are a village church, and gentlemen's 
 country houses. I with difficulty obtained a bed at the Com- 
 mercial Hotel, as a great assemblage of Catholics was about to 
 take place. This I learned by accident at Limerick, and I 
 changed my travelling plan accordingly. 
 
 * August 27 th. — (Sunday.) I rose early and strolled into a 
 large Catholic cathedral, where were a crowd of the lowest of 
 the people. There was one gentleman in the gallery, almost 
 concealed behind a pillar, and seemingly fervent in his devo- 
 tions. I recognized Daniel O'Connell, my late hospitable host. 
 He slipped away at a side door, and I could not say a word to 
 him, as I wished to do. I afterwards went into the handsome 
 Protestant church. It is here the custom to make the churches 
 attractive, — not the worst feature of the government system, 
 when the Protestants themselves defray the cost ; which, how- 
 ever, is seldom the case. 
 
 August 28th. — I was called from my bed by the waiter. 
 " Sir, Counsellor O'Connell wants you." He came to present 
 me with a ticket for the forthcoming public dinner, and refused 
 to take the price, which was £ 2. No Protestant was allowed 
 to pay. He promised to take me to the private committee 
 meetings, &c. The first general meeting w^as held in the chapel, 
 which contains some thousands, and was crowded. The speech- 
 es were of the usual stamp. Mr. Wyse, Lucien Buonaparte's 
 son-in-law, was the first who attracted any attention ; but 
 3* 
 
58 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, a 
 
 O'Connell himself was the orator of the day. He spoke with 
 great power and effect. He is the idol of the people, and was 
 loudly applauded when he entered the room, and at all the 
 prominent parts of his speech. His manner is colloquial, his 
 voice very sweet, his style varied. He seems capable of suit- 
 ing his tone to every class of persons, and to every kind of 
 subject. His language vehement, — all but seditious. He 
 spoke two hours, and then there was an adjournment.* 
 
 Aiigust 29th. — In the forenoon I was taken by O'Connell to 
 the sacristy, where a committee arranged what was to be done 
 at the public meeting. As usual in such cases, whatever dif- 
 ference of opinion there may be is adjusted in private by the 
 leaders. Here I remarked that O'Connell always spoke last, 
 and his opinion invariably prevailed. At this meeting a sub- 
 scription was opened for the relief of the forty-shilling free- 
 holders, who had been persecuted by the landlords for voting 
 with the priests rather than with themselves. I was glad to pay 
 for my ticket in this way, and put down <£ 5 by "a Protestant 
 English Barrister." The public meeting was held at half past 
 two. Two speeches by priests especially pleased me. A vio- 
 lent and ludicrous speech was made by a man who designated 
 O'Connell as " the buttress of liberty in Ireland, who rules in 
 the wilderness of free minds." O'Connell spoke with no less 
 energy and point than yesterday. 
 
 The dinner was fixed for seven, but was not on the table till 
 past eight. There were present more than 200. The walls of 
 the room wer€ not finished ; but it was well lighted, and orna- 
 mented with transparencies, on which were the names Curran, 
 Burke, Grattan, &c. The chair was taken by O'Brien. My 
 memory would have said Sir Thomas Esmond. 0' Gorman, by 
 whom I sat, was pressing that I should take wine, but I resist- 
 ed, and drew a laugh on him by calling him an intolerant per- 
 secutor, even in matters of drink. What must he be in religion'? 
 
 The usual patriotic and popular sentiments were given. 
 The first personal toast was Lord Fitzwilliam, the former Lord- 
 Lieutenant, who had not been in Ireland till now since he gave 
 up his office because he could not carry emancipation. The 
 venerable Earl returned thanks in a voice scarcely audible. 
 With his eyes fixed on the ground, and with no emphasis, he 
 muttered a few words about his wish to serve Ireland. I rec- 
 ollected that this was the once-honored friend of Burke, and it 
 
 * My journal does not mention the subject; but in those days emancipation^ 
 and not repeal^ was the cry. — H. C. R. 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. 59 
 
 was painful to behold the wreck of a good, if not a great man. 
 Another old man appeared to much greater advantage, being 
 in full possession of his faculties, — Sir John Newport ; his 
 countenance sharp, even somewhat quizzical. Lord Ebring- 
 ton, too, returned thanks, — a fine spirited young man. The 
 only remarkable speech was O'Connell's, and that was short. 
 When the toast, " the Liberal Protestants," was given, O'Con- 
 nell introduced an Englishman, who spoke so prosily that he 
 was set down by acclamation. It was after twelve, and after 
 the magnates had retired, that a toast was given to which I 
 was called upon to respond, — " Mr. Scarlett and the Liberal 
 members of the English Bar." My speech was frequently in- 
 terrupted by applause, which was quite vociferous at the end. 
 This is easily accounted for, without supposing more than very 
 ordinary merit in the speaker. I began by the usual apology, 
 that I felt myself warranted in rising, from the fact that I was 
 the only English Protestant barrister who had signed the late 
 petition for Catholic emancipation. This secured me a favora- 
 ble reception. " I now solicit pennission to make a few 
 remarks, in the two distinct characters of Englishman and Prot- 
 estant. As an Englishman, I am well aware that I ought not 
 to be an object of kindness in the eyes of an Irishman. I know 
 that for some centuries the relation between the two countries 
 has been characterized by the infliction of injustice and wrong 
 on the part of the English. If, therefore, I considered myself 
 the representative of my countrymen, and any individual be- 
 fore me the representative of Irishmen, I should not dare to 
 look him in the face." (Vehement applause.) " Sir, I own to 
 you I do not feel flattered by this applause. But I should 
 have been ashamed to utter this sentence, which might seem 
 flattery, if I had not meant to repeat it in another application. 
 And I rely on the good-nature and liberality of Irishmen to 
 bear with me while I make it. I am Protestant as well as 
 Englishman. And were I to imagine myself to be the single 
 Protestant, and any one before me the single Catholic, I should 
 expect him to hang down his head while I looked him boldly 
 in the face." There was an appalling silence, — not a scmnd, 
 and I was glad to escape from a dangerous position, by adding : 
 '* I am aware that, in these frightful acts of religious zeal, the 
 guilt is not all on one side. And I am not one of those who 
 would anxiously strike a balance in the account current of 
 blood. Least of all would I encourage a pharisaic memory. 
 On the contrary, I would rather, were it possible, that, for the 
 
60 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 sake of universal charity, we should all recollect the wrongs we 
 have committed, and forget those we have sustained, — but 
 not too soon. Irishmen ought not to forget past injustice, till 
 injustice has entirely ceased." I then went on to safer topics. 
 I confessed myself brought up an enemy to the Roman Catho- 
 lic Church, and would frankly state why I especially feared it. 
 " I speak with confidence, and beg to be believed in what I 
 know. The Catholic religion is obnoxious to thousands in 
 England, not because of the number of its sacraments, or be- 
 cause it has retained a few more mysteries than the Anglican 
 acknowledges, but because it is thought — and I own I cannot 
 get rid of the apprehension — that there is in the maxims of 
 your church something inconsistent with civil and religious 
 liberty." On this there was a cry from different parts of the 
 room, "• That 's no longer so," "Not so now." I then ex- 
 pressed my satisfaction at the liberal sentiments I had heard 
 that morning from two reverend gentlemen. "Did I think 
 that such sentiments would be echoed were the Roman Catho- 
 lic Church not suffering, but triumphant, could they be 
 published as a papal bull, I do not say I could become alto- 
 gether a member of your church, but it would be the object 
 of my affection. Nay, if such sentiments constitute your re- 
 ligion, then I am of your church, whether you will receive me 
 or no." Aftei" I sat down my health was given, and I had a 
 few words more to say. There was a transparency on the 
 wall representing the genius of Liberty introducing Ireland to 
 the Temple of British Freedom. I said : " Your worthy artist 
 is better versed in Church than in State painting, for, look at 
 the keys which Liberty holds, — they are the keys of St. 
 Peter 1 " A general laugh confessed that I had hit the mark. 
 
 September 13th. — (Dublin.) I mention St. Patrick's Cathe- 
 dral for the sake of noticing the common blunder in the in- 
 scribed monument to Swift. He is praised as the friend to 
 liberty. He was not that ; he was the enemy of injustice. He 
 resisted certain flagrant acts of oppression, and tried to redress 
 his country's wrongs, but he never thought of the liberties of 
 his country. 
 
 I prolonged my stay at Dublin in order to spend the day 
 with Cuthbert, a Protestant barrister. There dined with him 
 my old acquaintance, Curran, son of the orator. His tone of 
 conversation excellent. I will write down a few Irish anecdotes. 
 Lord Chancellor Redesdale * was slow at taking a joke. In a 
 
 * Lord Redesdale was Lord Chancellor of Ireland from 1802 to 1806. 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. Gl 
 
 bill case before hi^, he said : " The learned counsellor talks 
 of flying kites. What does that mean ] I recollect flying 
 kites when I was a boy, in England." — "0 my lord," said 
 Plunkett, " the difference is very great. The wind raised 
 those kites your Lordship speaks of, — ours raise the wind." 
 Every one laughed but the Chancellor, who did not compre- 
 hend the illustration. It was Plunkett, also, who said : " If a 
 cause were tried before Day (the Justice), it would be tried in 
 the dark." Cuthbert related, in very interesting detail, a mem- 
 orable incident of which he was a witness. On the discus- 
 sion of the Union question, Grattan had obtained his election, 
 and came into the House while the debate was going on. He 
 made a famous speech, which so provoked Corry, that in his 
 reply he called Grattan a traitor, and left the House. Grattan 
 followed him. They fought a duel in the presence of a crowd. 
 And before the speaker whom they left on his legs had finished, 
 Grattan returned, having shot his adversary.* 
 
 September IJfth. — Though not perfectly well, I determined 
 to leave Dublin this day, and had taken my place on the Long- 
 ford stage, when I saw Sheil get inside. I at once alighted, 
 and paid 4 5. 6 c?. additional for an inside seat to Mullingar, 
 whither I learned he was going. It was a fortunate specula- 
 tion, for he was both communicative and friendly. We had, 
 as companions, a woman, who was silent, and a priest, who 
 proved to be a character. We talked immediately on the 
 stirring topics of the day. Sheil did not appear to me a pro- 
 found or original thinker, but he was lively and amusing. Our 
 priest took a leading part in the conversation. He was a very 
 handsome man, with most prepossessing manners. He told 
 us he had had the happiness to be educated under Professor 
 
 P at Salamanca. " No one," said he, '^ could possibly go 
 
 through a course of study under him, without being convinced 
 that Protestantism is no Christianity, and that Roman Catholi- 
 cism is the only true religion. Any one who was not con- 
 vinced must be a knave, a fool, or a madman." To do justice 
 to Sheil, he joined me in a hearty laugh at this. And we 
 forced the priest at last to make a sort of apology, and ac- 
 knowledge that invincible ignorance is pardonable. I told 
 him dryly, that I was a friend to emancipation, but if it should 
 be proposed in Parliament, and I should be there, I should 
 certainly move to except from its benefits all who had studied 
 
 * The Right Honorable Isaac Corr}^, Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer. 
 Although in this duel Grattan shot his antagonist, the wound was not fatal. 
 
62 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 under Father P at Salamanca. At Alullingar, a crowd 
 
 were waiting for the orator, and received him with cheers. 
 
 September 15th. — Proceeded to SHgo on the mail, and had 
 a very pleasant companion in a clergyman, a Mr, Dawson. He 
 asserted anti-Catholic principles with a mildness and liberality, 
 and at the same time with an address and knowledge, I have 
 seldom witnessed. We went over most of the theologico- 
 political questions of the day, and if we did not convince we 
 did not offend each other. Of the journey I shall say nothing, 
 but that I passed through one town I should wish to see again, 
 — Boyle, lying very beautifully, with picturesque ruins of an 
 abbey. As we approached Sligo the scenery became more wild 
 and romantic. There I was seriously indisposed, and Mr. Dawson 
 recommended me to a medical man, a Dr. Bell, a full-faced, 
 jovial man, w^ho was remarkably kind. When I had opened 
 my case the only answer I could get for some time was, ** You 
 must dine with me to-day." This I refused to do, but I prom- 
 ised to join the party in the evening, and was gTatified by the 
 geniality of all whom I met at his house, and especially by his 
 own hospitality. 
 
 September 16th. — Dr. Bell again asked me to dine with him, 
 but excused me on my expressing a desire to be free. I enjoyed, 
 however, another evening at his house, where Mr. Dawson was 
 the ami de la maison. 
 
 September 17th, — After a very hospitable breakfast with Dr. 
 Bell, availed myself of the opportunity of proceeding on my 
 journey in my landlord's car. I noticed some buildings, which 
 a very meanly dressed man, one who in England would be sup- 
 posed to belong to the lowest class, told me were Church 
 school buildings, erected by Lord Palmerston, whom he praised 
 as a generous landlord to the Catholic poor. He said that, 
 formerly, the peasants were so poor that, having no building, a 
 priest would come and consecrate some temporary chapel, and 
 then take away the altar, which alone makes the place holy. 
 On my expressing myself strongly at this, the man said, in a 
 style that quite startled me : '^ I thank you, sir, for that senti- 
 ment." At nine o'clock, we entered the romantically situated 
 little town of Ballyshannon. My host and driver took me to 
 the chief inn, but no bed was to be had. He said, however, 
 that he would not rest till he had lodged me somewhere, and 
 he succeeded admirably, for he took me to the house of a 
 character, — a man who, if he had not been so merry, might 
 have sat for a picture of Romeo's apothecary. I had before 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. 63 
 
 taken a supper with' a genuine Irish party at the inn, — an 
 Orange solicitor, who insolently browbeat the others ; a Papist 
 manager of a company of strolling players ; and a Quaker so 
 wet as to be — like the others — on the verge of intoxication. 
 I had to fight against all the endeavors to find out who I was ; 
 but neither they, nor the apothecary, Mr. Lees, nor my former 
 host, Mr. Boyle, knew me, till I avowed myself. I found I 
 could not escape drinking a little whiskey with Mr. Lees, who 
 would first drink with me and then talk with me. On my 
 saying, in the course of our conversation, that I had been in 
 Waterford, he sprang up and exclaimed : " Maybe you are 
 Counsellor Robinson ] " — *' My name is Robinson." On this 
 he lifted up his hands, " That I should have so great a man in 
 my house ! " And I had some difficulty in making him sit 
 down in the presence of the great man. Here I may say that, 
 at Dublin, I found a report of my speech at Waterford, in an 
 Irish paper, containing not a thought or sentiment I actually 
 uttered, but a mere series of the most \nilgar and violent com- 
 monplaces. 
 
 September 2Jfih. — The journey to Belfast on a stage-coach 
 was diversified by my having as companions two reverend 
 gentlemen, whom I suspected to be Scotch seceders, — amus- 
 ingly, I should say instructively, ignorant even on points very 
 nearly connected with their own professional pursuits. They 
 were good-natured, if not liberal, and with no violent grief 
 lamented the heretical tendencies in the Academical In- 
 stitution at Belfast. "It has," said they, "two notorious 
 Arians among the professors, Montgomery and Bruce, but they 
 do not teach theology, and are believed honorably to abstain 
 from propagating heresy." Arianism, I heard, had infected the 
 Synod of Ulster, and the Presbytery of Antrim consists wholly 
 of Arians. On my mentioning Jeremy Taylor, these two good 
 men shook their heads over " the Arian." I stared. " Why, 
 sir, you know his very unsound work on original sin ] " — " I 
 know that he has been thought not quite up to the orthodox 
 mark on that point." — " Not up to the mark ! He is the 
 oracle of the English Presbyterians of the last century." This 
 was puzzling. At length, however, the mist cleared up. They 
 were thinking of Dr. John Taylor, of Norwich, the ancestor of 
 a family of my friends. And as to Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of 
 Down and Connor, they had never heard of such a man. Yet 
 these were teachers. They were mild enemies of emancipa- 
 tion, and seemed half ashamed of being so, for they had more 
 fear of Arianism than of Popery. 
 
64 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 September 26th, — Strolled on the shore of the Lough that 
 adjoins the town. Then began my homeward journey, and it 
 was not long before I landed at Port Patrick. I was now in 
 Scotland. That I felt, but I had been gradually and almost 
 unconsciously losing all sense of being in Ireland. The squal- 
 id poverty of the people had been vanishing ; and, though a 
 poor observer of national physiognomies, I had missed the 
 swarthy complexion, the black eyes, and the long haggard faces. 
 The signs of Romanism had worn out. The ear w^as struck 
 with the Puritan language. The descendants of Scottish set- 
 tlers under the Stuarts and Cromwells I have ahvays consid- 
 ered as Englishmen born in Ireland, and the northern counties 
 as a Scotch colony. And yet I am told that this is not the 
 true state of things. 
 
 September 28th. — At Kircudbright, where I took up my 
 quarters with my friend Mrs. Niven, at law my ward. 
 
 October 1st, — Mr. Niven, no slanderer of his countrymen, 
 related to me in a few words a tale, which in every incident 
 makes one think how Walter Scott w^ould have worked it up. 
 
 Sir Gordon wilfully shot his neighbor. The man might 
 
 have been cured, but he preferred dying, that his murderer 
 might be hanged. The Gordon fled, and lived many years in 
 
 exile, till he w^as visited by a friend. Sir Maxwell, who 
 
 persuaded him that the affair was forgotten, and that he might 
 return. The friends travelled together to Edinburgh, and 
 there they attended together the public worship of God in the 
 kirk. In the middle of the service the Maxwell cried aloud, 
 " Shut all the doors, here is a murderer ! " The Gordon was 
 seized, tried, and hanged, and the Maxwell obtained from the 
 crown a grant of a castle, and the noble demesnes belonging to 
 it. This account was given to me while I was visiting the 
 picturesque ruins of the castle. 
 
 October Sd. — On my way southward I passed through 
 Annan, the birthplace of my old acquaintance Edward Irving. 
 
 October 5th, — Went round by Keswick to Ambleside. As 
 I passed through Keswick, I had a chat with the ladies of 
 Southey's family. Miss D. Wordsworth's illness prevented my 
 going to Rydal Mount. But I had two days of W^ordsworth's 
 company, and enjoyed a walk on Loughrigg Fell. In this walk 
 the beauty of the English and Scotch lakes was compared with 
 those of Killarney, and the preference given to the former was 
 accounted for by the broken surface of the sides of the moun- 
 tains, whence arises a play of color, ever mixed and ever 
 
1826.] IRISH TOUR. G5 
 
 changing. The summits of the mountains round Killarney are 
 as finely diversified as could be wished, but the sides are 
 smooth, little broken by crags, or clothed with herbage of vari- 
 ous color, though frequently wooded. Wordsworth showed 
 me the field he has purchased, on which he means to build, 
 should he be compelled to leave the Mount. And he took me 
 over Mr. Tilbrook's knacky cottage, the " Rydal wife trap," 
 really a very pretty toy. He also pointed out the beautiful 
 spring, a description of which is to be an introduction to a 
 portion of his great poem, and contains a poetical view of wa- 
 ter as an element in the composition of our globe. The pas- 
 sages he read appear to be of the very highest excellence. 
 
 October 7th. — Incessant rain. I did not leave Ambleside for 
 Eydal till late. We had no resource but books and conversa- 
 tion, of which there was no want. Poetry the staple commodi- 
 ty, of course. A very pleasing young lady was of our party 
 to-day, as well as yesterday, a Miss A — — , from Sussex. Very 
 pretty, and very naive and sprightly, — just as young ladies 
 should be. The pleasure of the day is not to be measured by 
 the small space it occupies in my journal. Early at my inn. 
 A luxurious supper of sherry-negus and cranberry tart. Read 
 the first part of Osborne's " Advice to his Son," — a book 
 Wordsworth gave to Monkhouse, and which, therefore, I sup- 
 posed to be a favorite. But I found, on inquiry, that Words- 
 worth likes only detached remarks, for Osborne is a mere coun- 
 sellor of selfish prudence and caution. Surely there is no need 
 to print, — " Beware lest in trying to save your friend you 
 get drowned yourself ! " 
 
 October 8th. — Wordsworth full of praises of the fine scenery 
 of Yorkshire. Gordale Scar (near Malham) he declares to be 
 one of the grandest objects in nature, though of no great size. 
 It has never disappointed him. 
 
 October 14th. — Reached Bury. Thus ended an enjoyable 
 journey. The most remarkable circumstance attending it is, 
 that I seemed to lose that perfect health which hitherto has 
 accompanied me in my journeys. But now I feel perfectly 
 well again. Perhaps my indisposition in Ireland may be bene- 
 ficial to me, as it has made me sensible that my health re- 
 quires attention. 
 
 During my absence in Ireland, my excellent sister-in-law died. 
 I cannot write of her at length here. The letter respecting her 
 death was missent, and did not reach me till about a week after 
 it was written. My sister was a most estimable woman, with 
 
66 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 a warm heart, great vivacity of feeling as well as high spirits, 
 great integrity of character, and a very strong understanding. 
 
 October 26th. — (At Mr. Dawson Turner's, Yarmouth.) I was 
 summoned to breakfast at eight ; and was delighted to find my- 
 self at nine treated with genuine hospitality and kindness, for 
 I was left to myself. Mr. Turner's family consists of two mar- 
 ried daughters, — Mrs. Hooker, wife of the traveller to Iceland, 
 and now a professor at Glasgow, a great botanist and naturalist, 
 and Mrs. Palgrave, wife of the ex-Jew Cohen,* now bearing the 
 name of Mrs. Turner's father, and four unmarried daughters, all 
 very interesting and accomplished young women, full of talent, 
 which has left their personal attractions unimpaired. He has 
 two sons, — the youngest only at home, a nice boy. At the 
 head of these is a mother worthy of such children. She, too, 
 is accomplished, and has etched many engravings, which were 
 published in Mr. Turner's " Tour in Normandy," and many 
 heads, some half-dozen of which he gave me, or rather I took, 
 he offering me as many as I chose. The moment breakfast was 
 over, Mr. Turner went to the bank, Mrs. Turner to her writing- 
 jdesk, and every one of the young ladies to drawing, or some 
 other tasteful occupation, and I was as much disregarded as if 
 I were nobody. In the adjoining room, the library, was a fire, 
 and before breakfast Mr. Turner had said to me : " You will 
 find on that table pen, ink, and paper." Without a word more 
 being said I took the hint, and went into that apartment as my 
 own. And there t spent the greater part of the time of my 
 visit. I took a short walk with Mr. Turner, — the weather did 
 not allow of a long one. We had a small party at dinner, — 
 Mr. Brightwell, Mr. Worship, &c. A very lively evening. I 
 sat up late in my bedroom. 
 
 October 27th, — Mr. Turner is famous for his collection of 
 autographs, of which he has nearly twenty thick quarto vol- 
 umes, consisting of letters, for the greater part, of distin- 
 guished persons of every class and description. But these 
 form by far the smallest portion of his riches in MSS. He has 
 purchased several large collections, and obtained from friends 
 very copious and varied contributions. Every one who sees 
 such a collection is desirous of contributing to it. Some are 
 of great antiquity and curiosity. I was not a little flattered 
 when Mr. Turner, having opened a closet, and pointed out to 
 me some remarkable volumes, gave me the key, with directions 
 not to leave the closet open. He had before shown me several 
 
 * See ante^ p. 5. 
 
1826.] DAWSON TURNER. — YARMOUTH CHURCH. 67 
 
 volumes of his private correspondence, with an intimation that 
 they were literary letters, which might be shown to all the 
 world, and that I might read everything I saw. I began to 
 look over the printed antiquarian works on Ireland, but find- 
 ing so many MSS. at my command, I confined myself to them. 
 I read to-day a most melancholy volume of letters by Cowper, 
 the poet, giving a particular account of his sufferings, his 
 dreams, cfec, all turning on one idea, — the assurance that he 
 would be damned. In one he relates that he thought he was 
 being dragged to hell, and that he was desirous of taking a 
 memorial to comfort him. He seized the knocker of the door, 
 but recollecting that it would melt in the flames, and so add to 
 his torments, he threw it down ! His correspondent was in 
 the habit of communicating to him the answers from God which 
 he received to his prayers for Cowper, which answers were all 
 promises of mercy. These Cowper did not disbelieve, and yet 
 they did not comfort him. 
 
 October 28th. - — I must not forget that the elder Miss Turner, 
 a very interesting girl, perhaps twenty-five, is a German student. 
 By no means the least pleasant part of my time was that which 
 I spent every day in hearing her read, and in reading to her 
 passages from Goethe and Schiller. 
 
 The only letters I had time to look over among the Macro 
 papers, purchased by Mr. Tm-ner, including those of Sir Henry 
 Spelman, were a collection of letters to Dr. Steward, the former 
 preacher at the Church Gate Street Meeting, Bury. These were 
 all from Dissenting ministers, about whom I was able to com- 
 municate some information to Mr. Turner. Dr. Steward lived 
 once in Dublin, and the letters give an interesting account of 
 the state of religious parties in Ireland, circa 1750 - 60. The 
 Lord-Lieutenant then favored the New Light party, i.e. the 
 Arians. These few letters engrossed my attention. I could 
 not calculate the time requisite for reading the whole collec- 
 tion. 
 
 October 29th, — (Sunday.) I accompanied the family to the 
 large, rambling, one-sided church, which is still interesting. Un- 
 pleasant thoughts suggested by a verse from Proverbs, read by 
 the preacher, — " He that is surety for a stranger shall smart 
 for it ; but he that hateth suretyship is safe." It is remark- 
 able that no enemy to revealed religion has attacked it by 
 means of a novel or poem, in which mean and detestable char- 
 acters are made to justify themselves by precepts found in the 
 Bible. A work of that kind would be insidious, and not the 
 
68 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 less effective because a superficial objection. But some share 
 of the reproach should fall on the theologians who neglect to 
 discriminate between the spiritual or inspired, and the un- 
 spiritual or uninspired parts of the sacred writings. The 
 worldly wisdom of the above text is' not to be disputed, and if 
 found in the works of a Franklin, unobjectionable, — - for he was 
 the philosopher of prudence ; but it is to be regretted that such 
 a lesson should be taught us as " the Word of God." I could 
 not help whispering to Dawson Turner, "' Is this the Word- of 
 God 1 " He replied : " All bankers think so." 
 
 October SOth. — A pleasant forenoon like the rest. After an 
 early dinner, left my hospitable host and hostess. This house 
 is the most agreeable I ever visited. No visit would be un- 
 pleasantly long there. 
 
 November 29th, — At home over books. An hour at the 
 Temple Library helping Gordon in lettering some German 
 books. At four I went to James Stephen, and drove down 
 with him to his house at Hendon. A dinner-party. I had a 
 most interesting companion in young Macaulay, one of the 
 most promising of the rising generation I have seen for a long 
 time. He is the author of several much admired articles in 
 the Edinburgh Review, A review of Milton's lately discovered 
 work on Christian Doctrine, and of his political and poetical 
 character, is by him. I prefer the political to the critical re- 
 marks. In a paper of his on the new London University, his 
 low estimate of the advantages of our University education, 
 i. e. at Oxford and Cambridge, is remarkable in one who is him- 
 self so much indebted to University training. He has a good 
 face, — not the delicate features of a man of genius and 
 sensibility, but the strong lines and well-knit limbs of a man 
 sturdy in body and mind. Very eloquent and cheerful. Over- 
 flowing with words, and not poor in thought. Liberal in 
 opinion, but no radical. He seems a correct as well as a 
 full man. He show^ed a minute knowledge of subjects not 
 introduced by himself 
 
 December JftK — Dined at Flaxman's. He had a cold and 
 was not at all fit for company. Therefore our party broke up 
 early. At his age every attack of disease is alarming. Among 
 those present were the Miss Tulks, sisters of the late M. P. for 
 Sudbury, and Mr. Soane, architect and R. A. He is an old 
 man, and is suffering under a loss of sight, though he is not 
 yet blind. He talked about the New Law Courts,* and with 
 
 ♦ The Courts at Westminster, then just built by Mr. Soane. 
 
1826.] DEATH OF FLAXMAN. — HIS FUNERAL. 69 
 
 warmth abused them. He repudiates them as his work, being 
 constrained by orders. We had a discussion on the merits 
 of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, he contending that, 
 even in its present situation, it heightens instead of dimin- 
 ishing the effect of the Abbey. 
 
 December 7th. — I was alarmed yesterday by the account I 
 received when I called at Flaxman's. This morning I sent to 
 inquire, and my messenger brought the melancholy intelligence 
 that Flaxman died early in the morning ! The country has 
 lost one of its greatest and best men. As an artist, he has 
 done more than any other man of the age to spread her fame ; 
 as a man, he exhibited a rare specimen of moral and Chris- 
 tian excellence. 
 
 I walked out, and called at Mr. Soane's. He was not at 
 home. I then went to Blake's. He received the mtelligence 
 much as I expected. He had himself been very ill during the 
 summer, and his first observation was, with a smile : "I 
 thought I should have gone first." He then said : "I cannot 
 consider death as anything but a going from one room to 
 another." By degrees he fell into his wild rambling way of 
 talk. "Men are born with a devil and an angel," but this he 
 himself interpreted body and soul. Of the Old Testament he 
 seemed to think not favorably. Christ, said he, took much 
 after his mother, the Law. On my asking for an explanation, 
 he referred to the turning the money-changers out of the 
 temple. He then declared against those who sit in judgment 
 on others. ^' I have never known a very bad man who had 
 not something very good about him." He spoke of the Atone- 
 ment, and said : " It is a horrible doctrine ! If another man 
 pay your debt, I do not forgive it." ... . He produced 
 " Sintram," by Fouque, and said : " This is better than my 
 things." 
 
 December 15tlu — The funeral of Flaxman. I rode to the 
 house with Thompson, R. A., from Somerset House. Thompson 
 spoke of Flaxman with gTeat warmth. He said so great a man 
 in the arts had not lived for centuries, and probably for cen- 
 turies there would not be such another. He is so much above 
 the age and his country, that his merits have never been 
 appreciated. He made a design (said Thompson) for a monu- 
 ment for Pitt, in Westminster Abbey, — one of the grandest 
 designs ever composed, far beyond anything imagined by 
 Canova. But this work, through intrigue, was taken from 
 him, and the monument to Nelson given him instead, — a 
 
70 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 work not to his taste, and in which he took no pleasure. Yet 
 his genius was so universal that there is no passion which he 
 has not perfectly expressed. Thompson allowed that Flaxman's 
 execution was not equal to his invention, more from want of 
 inclination than of power. Perhaps there was a want of power 
 in his wrist.* On arriving at Flaxman's house, in Buckingham 
 Street, we found Sir Thomas Lawrence and five others, who, 
 with Mr. Thompson and Flaxman himself, constituted the 
 council of the year. The fiYO were Phillips, Howard, Shee, 
 Jones, and one whose name I do not recollect. Two Mr. 
 Denmans f and two Mr. Mathers were present, and Mr. Tulk 
 and Mr. Hart. I sat in the same carriage with Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence, Mr. Hart, and Mr. Tulk ; and Sir Thomas spoke with 
 great affection and admiration of Flaxman, as of a man who 
 had not left, and had not had, his equal. The interment took 
 place in the burial-ground of St. Giles- in-the-Fields, near the 
 old St. Pancras Church. Speaking of Michael Angelo, Sir 
 Thomas represented him as far greater than Raphael. 
 
 Bern., t — Let me add now, though I will not enlarge on 
 what is not yet completed, that I have for several years past 
 been employed in fixing within the walls of University College 
 all the casts of Flaxman, — the single act of my life which, to 
 all appearance, will leave sensible and recognizable consequences 
 after my death. 
 
 December 17th. — Dined at Bakewell's, at Hampstead. A 
 
 Mr. M there, a Genevese curate, expelled from his curacy 
 
 by the Bishop of Friburg. No trial or any proceeding what- 
 ever. This is arbitrary enough. Yet M being ultra in 
 
 his opinions, one cannot deem the act of despotism very 
 flagrant. The oppression of mere removal from clerical func- 
 tions, when the person is not a believer, does not excite much 
 
 resentment. M predicts with confidence a bloody war, 
 
 ending in the triumph of liberal principles. 
 
 Rem,^ — After twenty-five years I may quote a couplet from 
 Dryden's " Virgil " : — 
 
 " The gods gave ear, and granted half his prayer, 
 The rest the winds dispersed in empty air." 
 
 December 18th. — Called upon Soane, the architect, whom I 
 met at Flaxman's. His house || is a little museum, almost un- 
 
 * Very lately Charles Stokes, the executor of Chantrey, told me that 
 Chantrey expressed the same opinion. — H. C. R., 1851. 
 t Mrs*^ Flaxman was a Miss Denman. X Written in 1851. 
 
 § Written in 1851. 1| Now the Soane Museum, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 
 
1826.] ROLFE. — DR. DIBDIN. 71 
 
 pleasantly full of curiosities. Every passage as full as it could 
 be stuck with antiques or casts of sculpture, with paintings, 
 including several of the most famous Hogarths, — the " Elec- 
 tion," (fee. The windows are of painted glass, some antiques. 
 There are designs, plans, and models of famous architectural 
 works. A model of Herculaneum, since the excavations, is 
 among the most remarkable. A consciousness of my having 
 no safe judgment in such matters lessens the pleasure they 
 would give me. He complained of the taking down of the 
 double balustrade of the Treasury. I own I thought it very 
 grand. " According to the original plan of the courts, all the 
 conveniences required by the profession would," he says, " have 
 been afforded.'- 
 
 Decemher 20th. — A morning of calls, and those agreeable. 
 First with Rolfe, who unites more business talents with litera- 
 ry tastes than any other of my acquaintance. Later, a long 
 chat with Storks, and a walk with him. He now encourages 
 my inclination to leave the bar. His own feelings are less fa- 
 vorable to the profession, and he sees that there may be active 
 employment without the earning of money, or thoughts of it. 
 
 December 21st. — A call from Benecke. We began an in- 
 teresting conversation on religion, and have appointed a time 
 for a long and serious talk on the subject. I am deeply pre- 
 possessed in favor of everything that Benecke says. He is an 
 original thinker, pious, and with no prejudices. Dined with 
 Mr. Payne, and spent an agreeable afternoon. Dr. Dibdin and 
 Mr. D'Arblay (son of the famous authoress of *' Cecilia") were 
 there. Dibdin exceedingly gay, too boyish in his laugh for a 
 D.D., but I should judge kind-hearted. 
 
 December 22d, — An interesting morning. By invitation from 
 Dr. Dibdin,* I went to Lord Spencer's, where were several 
 other persons, and Dibdin exhibited to us his lordship's most 
 curious books. I felt myself by no means qualified to appre- 
 ciate the worth of such a collection. A very rich man cannot 
 be reproached for spending thousands in bringing together the 
 earliest printed copies of the Bible, of Homer, Vtrgil, Livy, 
 (fee, (fee. Some of the copies are a most beautiful monument 
 of the art of printing, as well as of paper-making. It is re- 
 markable that the art arose at once to near perfection. At 
 Dresden, we see the same immediate excellence in pottery. 
 My attention was drawn to the famous Boccaccio, sold at the 
 
 * Dr. Dibdin was employed by Lord Spencer to write an account of the 
 rare books in his libraries. 
 
72 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 3. 
 
 Roxburgh sale (in my presence) to the Duke of Marlborough, 
 for £2,665, and, on the sale of the Duke's effects, purchased 
 by Lord Spencer for (if I am not mistaken) £ 915. 
 
 December 24th. — After breakfast I walked down to Mr. 
 Benecke's, with whom I had a very long and interesting re- 
 ligious conversation. He is a remarkable man, very religious, 
 with a strong tendency to what is called enthusiasm, and per- 
 fectly liberal in his feeling. The peculiar doctrine of Christian- 
 ity, he says, is the fall of man, of which Paganism has no 
 trace. The nature of that fall is beautifully indicated in the 
 allegory at the beginning of the book of Genesis. The garden 
 of Eden represents that prior and happier state in which all 
 men were, and in which they sinned. Men come into this 
 world with the character impressed on them in their prior 
 state, and all their acts arise out of that character. There is, 
 therefore, in the doctrine of necessity, so much truth as this, 
 — all actions are the inevitable effect of external operations 
 on the mind in a given state, that state having sprung neces- 
 sarily out of the character brought into this world. Christian- 
 ity shows how man is to be redeemed from this fallen condi- 
 tion. Evil cannot be ascribed to God, who is the author of 
 good. It could only spring out of the abuse of free-will in 
 that prior state, which does not continue to exist. 
 
 To this I objected that the difficulties of the necessarian 
 doctrine are only pushed back, not removed, by this view. In 
 the prior state, there is this inextricable dilemma. If the 
 free-will were in quality and in quantity the same in all, then 
 it remains to be explained how the same cause produces different 
 effects. But if the quality or the quantity of the power called 
 free-will be unequal, then the diversity in the act or effect may 
 be ascribed to the primitive diversity in the attribute. In that 
 case, however, the individual is not responsible, for he did not 
 create himself, or give himself that power or attribute of free- 
 wiU. 
 
 Rem* — To this I would add, after twenty-five years, that 
 the essential character of free-will places it beyond the power 
 of being explained. We have no right to require that we 
 should understand or explain any primitive or originating pow- 
 er, — call it God or free-will. It is enough that we must be- 
 lieve it, whether we will or no ; and we must disclaim all power 
 of explanation. 
 
 During this year I was made executor to a Mrs. Vardill, — a 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
1827.] DEATH OF ANTHONY ROBINSON. 73 
 
 character. She was the widow of a clergyman, an American 
 Loyalist, a friend of old General Franklin. The will had this 
 singular devise in it, that Mrs. Vardill left the residue of her 
 estate, real and personal, to accumulate till her daughter, Mrs. 
 Niven, was fifty-two years of age. I mention this will, how- 
 ever, to refer to one of the most remarkable and interesting 
 law cases which our courts of law have witnessed since the 
 union of England and Scotland. The litigation arose not out 
 of the will, but out of a pending suit, to take from her prop- 
 erty in her possession. The question was, whether a child 
 legitimated in Scotland by the marriage (after his birth) of 
 his father and mother can inherit lands in England 1, The 
 case (Birtwhistle v, Vardill) was tried at York, and after- 
 wards argued on two occasions before the Lords. Scotch law- 
 yers held that such a child was in every respect entitled to 
 inherit his father's estate in England. But, happily for my 
 friend, the English lawyers were almost unanimously of the 
 opposite opinion. 
 
 Concluded the year at Ayrton's. We made an awkward at- 
 tempt at games, in which the English do not succeed, — acting 
 words as rhymes to a given word, and finding out likenesses 
 from which an undeclared word was to be guessed. We stayed 
 till after twelve, when Mrs. Ayrton made us all walk up stairs 
 through her bedroom for good luck. On coming home, I was 
 alarmed by a note from Cuthbert Relph, saying : " Our excel- 
 lent friend Anthony Robinson is lying alarmingly ill at his 
 house in Hatton Garden." 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 1827. 
 
 RUM* — The old year closed with a melancholy announce- 
 ment^ which was verified in the course of the first month. 
 On the 20th of January died my excellent friend, Anthony 
 Robinson, one of those who have had the greatest influence on 
 my character. During his last illness I was attending the Quar- 
 ter Sessions, but left Bury before they closed, as I was infomied 
 that my dying friend declared he should not die happy with- 
 
 * Written in 1851. 
 
 VOL. II. 4 
 
74 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 out seeing me. I spent nearly all the day preceding his death 
 at Hatton Garden. He was in the full possession of his facul- 
 ties, and able to make some judicious alterations in his will. 
 On the 20th he was altogether exhausted, — able to say to 
 me, " God bless you ! " but no more. I contributed an article, 
 containing a sketch of my friend's character, to the Monthly 
 Repository,^ 
 
 January 27th. — The day of the burial of my old dear friend 
 Anthony Robinson, which took place in a vault of the Worship 
 Street General Baptist Meeting Yard. 
 
 February 2d, — Gotzenberger, the young painter from 
 Germany, called, and I accompanied him to Blake.t We 
 looked over Blake's Dante. Gotzenberger was highly gratified 
 by the designs. I was interpreter between them. Blake 
 seemed gratified by the visit, but said nothing remarkable. 
 
 Rem. X — It was on this occasion that I saw Blake for the 
 last time. He died on the 12th of August. His genius as an 
 artist was praised by Flaxman and Fusel i, and his poems ex- 
 cited great interest in Wordsworth. His theosophic dreams 
 bore a close resemblance to those of Swedenborg. I have 
 already referred to an article written by me, on Blake, for the 
 Hamburg " Patriotic Annals." § My interest in this remarka- 
 ble man was first excited in 1806. Dr. Malkin, our Bury 
 grammar-school head-master, published in that year a memoir 
 of a very precocious child, who died. An engraving of a por- 
 trait of him, by Blake, was prefixed. Dr. Malkin gave an 
 account of Blake, as a painter and poet, and of his visions, and 
 added some specimens of his poems, including the " Tiger." 
 I will now gather together a few stray recollections. When, in 
 1810, I gave Lamb a copy of the Catalogue of the paintings 
 exhibited in Camaby Street, he was delighted, especially with 
 the description of a painting afterwards engraved, and con- 
 nected with which there was a circumstance which, unex- 
 plained, might reflect discredit on a most excellent and amia- 
 ble man. It was after the friends of Blake had circulated a 
 subscription paper for an engraving of his "Canterbury Pil- 
 grims," that Stothard was made a party to an engraving of a 
 painting of the same subject, by himself. || But Flaxman con- 
 
 * Vol. I. New Series, p. 288. See Vol. I. of the present work, p. 358. 
 
 t Gotzenberger was one of the pupils of Cornelius, who assisted him in 
 painting the frescos, emblematical of Theology, Philosophy, Jurisprudence, 
 and Medicine, in the Aula of the University of Bonn. 
 
 X Written in 1852. § Vol. I. p. 299. 
 
 II For an account of this matter, see Gilchrist's *' Life of Blake," Vol. I. pp. 
 203-209. 
 
1827.] BLAKE'S RP:MARKS ON HIMSELF. 75 
 
 sidered this as not done wilfully. Stothard's work is well 
 known ; Blake's is known by very few. Lamb preferred the 
 latter greatly, and declared that Blake's description was the 
 finest criticism he had ever read of Chaucer's poem. In the 
 Catalogue, Blake writes of himself with the utmost freedom. 
 He says : " This artist defies all competition in coloring," — 
 that none can beat him, for none can beat the Holy Ghost, — 
 that he, and Michael Angelo and Raphael, were under Divine 
 influence, while Correggio and Titian worshipped a lascivious 
 and therefore cruel Deity, and Rubens a proud Devil, &c. 
 Speaking of color, he declared the men of Titian to be of leath- 
 er, and his women of chalk, and ascribed his own perfection in 
 coloring to the advantage he enjoyed in seeing daily the prim- 
 itive men walking in their native nakedness in the mountains 
 of Wales. There were about thirty oil paintings, the coloring 
 excessively dark and high, and the veins black. The hue of 
 the primitive men was very like that of the Red Indians. 
 Many of his designs were unconscious imitations. He illus- 
 trated Blair's " Grave," the " Book of Job," and four books of 
 Young's "Night Thoughts." The last I once showed to WiUiam 
 Hazlitt. In the designs he saw no merit ; but when I read 
 him some of Blake's poems he was much struck, and expressed 
 himself with his usual strength and singularity. " They are 
 beautiful," he said, " and only too deep for the vulgar. As to 
 God, a worm is as worthy as any other object, ?J1 alike being 
 to him indifferent, so to Blake the chimney-sweeper, &c. He 
 is ruined by vain struggles to get rid of what presses on his 
 brain ; he attempts impossibilities." I added : " He is like a 
 man who lifts a burden too heavy for him ; he bears it an in- 
 stant, it then falls and crushes him." 
 
 I lent Blake the 8vo edition, two volumes, of Words- 
 worth's poems, which he had in his possession at the time 
 of his death. They were sent me then. I did not at first 
 recognize the pencil notes as his, and was on the point of 
 rubbing them out when I made the discovery. In the fly-leaf, 
 volume one, under the words Poems referring to the Period of 
 Childhood, the following is written :" I see in Wordsworth 
 the natural man rising up against the spiritual man continually ; 
 and then he is no poet, but a heathen philosopher, at enmity 
 with all true poetry or inspiration." On the lines, — 
 
 " And I could wish my days to be 
 Bound each to each by natural piety," 
 
 he wrote : *' There is no such thing as natural piety, because 
 
76 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 the natural man is at enmity with God." On the verses, " To 
 H. C, Six Years Old " (p. 43), the comment is : "This is all in 
 the highest degree imaginative, and equal to any poet, — but 
 not superior. I cannot think that real poets have any compe- 
 tition. None are greatest in the kingdom of heaven. It is so 
 in poetry." At the bottom of page 44, " On the Influence of 
 Natural Objects," is ivritten : " Natural objects always did and 
 now do weaken, deaden, and obliterate imagination in me. 
 Wordsworth must know that what he writes valuable is not 
 to be found in nature. Read Michael Angelo's Sonnet, Vol. 
 II. p. 179." That is, the one beginning, — 
 
 " No mortal object did these eyes behold, 
 When first they met the lucicl light of thine." 
 
 It is remarkable that Blake, whose judgments were in most 
 points so very singular, should nevertheless, on one subject 
 closely connected with Wordsworth's poetical reputation, have 
 taken a very commonplace view. Over the heading of the 
 " Essay Supplementary to the Preface," at the end of the 
 volume, he wrote : " I do not know who wrote these Prefaces. 
 They are very mischievous, and directly contrary to Words- 
 worth's own practice" (p. 341). This Preface is not the de- 
 fence of his own style, in opposition to what is called poetic 
 diction^ but a sort of historic vindication of the unpopular 
 poets. On Macpherson (p. 364) Wordsworth wrote with the 
 severity with which all great writers have written of him. 
 Blake's comment was : "I believe both Macpherson and<^hat- 
 terton, that what they say is ancient is so." And at the end 
 of the essay he wrote : ^^ It appears to me as if the last para- 
 graph, beginning, ' Is it the right of the whole,' &c., was 
 written by another hand and mind from the rest of these 
 Prefaces. They give the opinions of a [word effaced] land- 
 scape-painter. Imagination is the divine vision, not of the 
 world, nor of man, nor from man as he is a natural man, but 
 only as he is a spiritual man. Imagination has nothing to do 
 with memory." 
 
 A few months after Blake's death, Barron Field and I called 
 on Mrs. Blake. The poor old • lady was more affected than I 
 expected she would be at the sight of me. She spoke of her 
 husband as dying like an angel. She informed us that she 
 was going to live with Linnell as his honsekeeper. She her- 
 self died within a few years. She seemed to be the very 
 woman to make her husband happy. She had been formed 
 by him. Indeed, otherwise, she could not have lived with 
 
1827.] CANNIjSG. — THOMAS BELSHAM. 77 
 
 him. Notwithstanding her dress, which was poor and dingy, 
 she had a good expression on her countenance, and with a 
 dark eye, the remains of youthful beauty. She had the wife's 
 virtue of virtues, — an impUcit reverence for her husband. It 
 is quite certain that she beUeved in all his visions. On one 
 occasion, speaking of his visions, she said : " You know, dear, 
 the first time you saw God was when you were four years old, 
 and he put his head to the window, and set you a-screaming." 
 In a word she was formed on the Miltonic model, and, like the 
 first wife, Eve, worshipped God ifi her husband.* 
 " He for God only, she for God in him." 
 
 February 2Jfth, — Went to Jaffray's, with whom I dined 
 and spent an agreeable evening. I read to them Dry den's 
 translation of Lucretius on the fear of death, which gave them 
 great pleasure. It was quite a gratification to have excited so 
 much pleasure. Indeed, this is one of the masterpieces of Eng- 
 lish translation, and, next to Christian hopes, the most delight- 
 ful and consolatory contemplation of the unknown world, f 
 
 August 8th. — News arrived of the death of Canning, an 
 event that renders quite uncei'tain the policy and government 
 of the country, and may involve it in ruinous calamities. How 
 insignificant such an occurrence renders the petty triumphs and 
 mortifications of our miserable circuit ! 
 
 September 8th, — (At Brighton.) Raymond took me to call 
 on the venerable, infirm. Unitarian minister, Thomas Belsham. 
 He received me w4th great cordiality, as if I had been an old 
 friend. We talked of old times, and the old gentleman was 
 delighted to speak of his juvenile years, when he was the 
 fellow-student of my uncle Crabb and Mr. Fenner. He spoke 
 also of Anthony Robinson with respect. Belsham retains, as 
 usual, a strong recollection of the affairs of his youth, but he 
 is now fast declining. It was gratifying to observe so much 
 cheerfulness in these, perhaps, last months of his existence. I 
 am very glad I called on him. J 
 
 C. Lamb to H. C. R. 
 
 Chase Side, October 1, 1827. 
 Dear R., — I am settled for life, I hope, at Enfield. I have 
 taken the prettiest, compactest house I ever saw, near to An- 
 
 * For a full account of Blake's works, as well as his life, see Gilchrist's 
 " Life of William Blake," 2 vols. Macmillan & Co., 1863. 
 
 t This translation was a great favorite with H. C R., who read it aloud to 
 manv of his friends. 
 
 X Rev. T. Belsham died in 1829. 
 
78 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 4. 
 
 thony Robinson's, but, alas 1 at the expense of poor Mary, who 
 was taken ill of her old complaint the night before we got into 
 it. So I must suspend the pleasure I expected in the surprise 
 you would have had in coming down and finding us house- 
 holders. 
 
 Farewell ! till we can all meet comfortable. Pray apprise 
 Martin Burney. Him I longed to have seen with you, but our 
 house is too small to meet either of you without her knowledge. 
 
 God bless you ! 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 October 27th, — Dined with Mr. Naylor. A very agreeable 
 party. A Mr. Hamilton, a Scotch bookseller, from Paternoster 
 Row, there ; he had all the characteristic good qualities of his 
 country, — good sense, integrity, and cheerfulness, with man- 
 ners mild and conciliating. He enjoyed a hon-mot^ and laughed 
 heartily ; therefore, according to Lamb, a lusus naturoe. He 
 was the publisher of Irving's first work, and spoke of him with 
 moderation and respect. We told stories of repartees. By 
 the by, Mr. Brass, a clergyman of Trinity College, Cambridge, 
 says that he heard Dr. Parr say to Barker, who had teased him 
 on one occasion : *'Sir, you are a young man; you have read 
 much, thought little, and know nothing at all." 
 
 December 26th, — Having heard from Charles Lamb that his 
 sister was again w^ell, I lost no time in going to see them. And 
 accordingly, as soon as breakfast was over, I walked into the 
 City, took the stage to Edmonton, and walked thence to En- 
 field. I found them in their new house, — a small but com- 
 fortable place, and Charles Lamb quite delighted with his re- 
 tirement. He fears not the solitude of the situation, though 
 he seems to be almost without an acquaintance, and dreads 
 rather than seeks visitors. We called on Mrs. Robinson, who 
 lives opposite ; she was not at home, but came over in the 
 evening, and made a fourth in a rubber of whist. I took a bed 
 at the near public-house. 
 
 December 27th, — I breakfasted with the Lambs, and they 
 then accompanied me on my way through the Green Lanes. I 
 had an agreeable walk home, reading on the way Roper's " Life 
 of Sir T. More." Not by any means to be compared with 
 Cavendish's " Wolsey," but still interesting from its simplicity. 
 
1828.] RECOLLECTIONS OF MRS. SmDONS. 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 1828. 
 
 FEBRUARY 7th, Rem* — I read one of the most worth- 
 less books of biography in existence, — Boaden's " Life 
 of Mrs. Siddons." Yet it gave me very great pleasure. In- 
 deed, scarcely any of the finest passages in " Macbeth," or 
 '* Henry VI II.," or '^ Hamlet," could delight me so much as 
 such a sentence as, " This evening Mrs. Siddons performed 
 Lady Macbath, or Queen Katharine, or the Queen Mother," for 
 these names operated on me then as they do now, in recalling 
 the yet unfaded image of that most marvellous woman, to 
 think of whom is now a greater enjoyment than to see any 
 other actress. This is the reason why so many bad books give 
 pleasure, and in biography more than in any other class. 
 
 March 2d. — Read the second act of " Prometheus," which 
 raised my opinion very much of Shelley as a poet, and im- 
 proved it in all respects. I^o man, who was not a fanatic, had 
 ever more natural piety than he, and his supposed Atheism is 
 a mere metaphysical crotchet, in which he was kept by the 
 affected scorn and real malignity of dunces. 
 
 April Jfth. — (Good Friday.) I hope not ill spent ; it was 
 certainly enjoyed by me. As soon as breakfast was over, I set 
 out on a walk to Lamb's, whom I reached in three and a quar- 
 ter hours, — at one. I was interested in the perusal of the 
 Profession de Foi d\m Cure Savoyard. The first division is 
 unexceptionable. His system of natural religion is delightful, 
 even fascinating ; his metaphysics quite reconcilable with the 
 scholastic philosophy of the Germans. At Lamb's I found 
 Moxon and Miss Kelly, who is an unaffected, sensible, clear- 
 headed, warm-hearted woman. We talked about the French 
 Theatre, and dramatic matters in general. Mary Lamb and 
 Charles were glad to have a dmnmy rubber, and also piquet 
 with me. 
 
 April 19th. — Went for a few minutes into the Court, but I 
 had nothing to do. Should have gone to Bury, but for the 
 spending a few hours with Mrs. Wordsworth. I had last night 
 the pleasure of reading the debate in the Lords on the repeal 
 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
80 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 of the Corporation and Test Acts.* No one but Lord Eldon, 
 of any note, appeared as a non-content, and the Archbishop of 
 York, and the Bishops of Chester (Blomfield), Lincoln (Kay), 
 and Durham (Van Mildert), all spoke in favor of the measure, 
 as well as the prime minister, the Duke of Wellington. At 
 the same time the French Ministry were introducing laws in 
 favor of the liberty of the press. The censorship and the law 
 of tendency (by which not particular libels might be the object of 
 prosecution, but the tendency of a great number of articles, 
 within six months), and the restriction of the right to publish 
 journals, were all given up. These are to me all matters of 
 heartfelt joy. 
 
 April 22d, — Was highly gratified by receiving from Goethe 
 a present of two pairs of medals, of himself and the Duke 
 and Duchess of Weimar. Within one of the cases is an auto- 
 graphic inscription : " Herrn Robinson zu freundlichem Geden- 
 ken von W. Goethe. Mdrz, 1828." (To Mr. Robinson, for 
 friendly remembrance, from W. Goethe, &c.) This I deem a 
 high honor. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Goethe. 
 
 3 King's Bench Walk, Temple, 31st January, 1829. 
 
 I avail myself of the polite offer of Mr. Des Voeux, to for- 
 ward to you a late acknowledgment of the high honor you con- 
 ferred on me last year. I had, indeed, supplied myself with a 
 cast, and with every engraving and medallion that I had heard 
 of; still the case you have presented me with is a present very 
 acceptable as well as most flattering. The delay of the ac- 
 knowledgment you will impute to any cause rather than the 
 want of a due sense of the obligation. 
 
 Twenty-four years have elapsed since I exchanged the study 
 of German literature for the pursuits of an active life, and a 
 busy but uncongenial profession, — the law. During all this 
 time your works have been the constant objects of my affec- 
 tionate admiration, and the medium by which I have kept 
 alive my early love of German poetry. The slow progress 
 they have till lately been making among my countrymen has 
 been a source of unavailing regret. Taylor's "Iphigenia in 
 Tauris," as it was the first, so it remains the best, version of 
 any of your larger poems. 
 
 ♦ These Acts required that all persons taking any office under government 
 should receiye the Lord's Supper, according to the usage of the Church of Eng- 
 land, within three months of their appointment. 
 
l»2b.] LETTER TO GOETHE. ^^K 81 
 
 Recently Des Voeux and Carlyle have brought other of your 
 greater works before our public, — and with love and zeal and 
 industry combined, I trust they will yet succeed in effectually 
 redeeming rather our literature than your name from the dis- 
 grace of such publications as Holcroft's " Hermann and Doro- 
 thea," Lord Leveson Gower's '' Faustus," and a catchpenny 
 book from the French, ludicrous in every page, not excepting 
 the title, — " The Life of Goethe." 
 
 I perceive from your Kunst und Alterthitm, that you are 
 not altogether regardless of the progress which your works are 
 making in foreign countries. Yet I do not find any notice of 
 the splendid fragments from " Faust " by Shelley, Lord By- 
 ron's friend, a man of unquestionable genius, the perverse mis- 
 direction of whose powers and early death are alike lament- 
 able. Coleridge, too, the only living poet of acknowledged 
 genius, who is also a good German scholar, attempted " Faust," 
 but shrunk from it in despair. Such an abandonment, and 
 such a performance as we have had, force to one's recollection 
 the line, — 
 
 " For fools rush in where angels fear to tread." 
 
 As you seem not unacquainted even with our periodical works, 
 you perhaps know that the most noted of our Reviews has on 
 a sudden become a loud eulogist. 
 
 It was understood, last year, that Herr von Goethe, your 
 son, and his lady were on the point of visiting England. Could 
 you be induced to accompany them, you would find a knot, 
 small, but firm and steady, of friends and admirers, consisting 
 of countrymen of your own as well as of natives. They would 
 be proud to conduct you to every object not undeserving your 
 notice. We possess the works of our own Flaxman, and we 
 have rescued from destruction the Elgin Marbles, and here 
 they are. 
 
 I had intended visiting my old friend Herr von Knebel last 
 year, but having planned a journey into Italy in the autumn 
 of the present, I have deferred my visit till the following 
 spring, when I hope you wiU permit me in person to thank 
 you for yoiu* flattering attention. 
 I have the honor to be, sir. 
 
 With the deepest esteem, 
 
 H. C. Robinson. 
 
 May 3d, — A morning of calls, and a little business at W. 
 Tooke's. whom I desired to buy for me a share in the London 
 
 4* 
 
82 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABR ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 University.* This I have done at the suggestion of several 
 friends, including my brother Thomas, as a sort of debt to the 
 cause of civil and religious liberty. I think the result of the 
 establishment very doubtful indeed, and shall not consider my 
 share as of any pecuniary value.! 
 
 May ISth, — There were to be five men executed, and I was 
 desirous to witness for once the ceremony within the prison. 
 At half past seven I met the Under Sheriff, Foss, at the gate. 
 At eight we were joined by Sheriff Wilde, when some six or 
 eight of us walked in procession through long narrow passages 
 to a long, naked, and wretched apartment, to which were suc- 
 cessively brought the five unhappy creatm^es who were to suffer. 
 The first, a youth, came in pale and trembling. He fainted 
 as his arms were pinioned. He whispered some inaudible 
 words to a clergyman who came and sat by him on a bench, 
 while the others were prepared for the sacrifice. His name 
 was Brown. The second, a fine young man, exclaimed, on en- 
 tering the room, that he was a murdered man, being picked 
 out while two others were suffered to escape. Both these were, 
 I believe, burglars. Two other men were ill-looking fellows. 
 They were silent, and seemingly prepared. One man distin- 
 guished himself from the rest, — an elderly man, very fat, and 
 with the look of a substantial tradesman. He said, in a tone 
 of indignation, to the fellow who pinioned him : "I am not the 
 first whom you have murdered. I am hanged because I had 
 a bad character." [I could not but think that this is, in fact, 
 properly understood, the only legitimate excuse for hanging 
 any one ; because his character (not reputation) is such that 
 his life cannot but be a curse to himself and others.] A clergy- 
 man tried to persuade him to be quiet, and he said he was re- 
 signed. He was hanged as a receiver of stolen horses, and 
 had been a notorious dealer for many years. The procession 
 was then continued through other passages, to a small room 
 adjoining the drop, to which the culprits were successively 
 taken and tied up. I could not see perfectly what took place, 
 but I observed that most of the men ran up the steps and 
 addressed the mob. The second burglar cried out : " Here 's 
 another murdered man, my lads ! " and there was a cry of 
 
 * Afterwards University College. 
 
 t I shall have much to say hereafter of what, for many years, has consti- 
 tuted a main business of my life. Never were o£ 100 better spent, — I niean 
 considered as an item of personal expense ; for the University College is far 
 from having yet answered the great purposes originally announced. — H. C. 
 R., 1852. 
 
1828.] IRVING ON THE TEST AND CORPORATION ACTS. 83 
 
 ** Murder" from the crowd. The horse-stealer also addressed 
 the crowd. I was within sight of the drop, and observed it 
 fall, but the sheriffs instantly left the scaffold, and we returned 
 to the Lord Mayor's parlor, where the Under Sheriff, the Or- 
 dinary, two clergymen, and two attendants in military dress, 
 and I, breakfasted. 
 
 The breakfast was short and sad, and the conversation about 
 the scene we had just witnessed. All agreed it was one of the 
 most disgusting of the executions they had seen, from the want 
 of feeling manifested by most of the sufferers ; but sympathy 
 was checked by the appearance of four out of five of the men. 
 However, I shall not soon see such a sight again.* 
 
 May 18th. — Read lately Irving's letter to the King, exhort- 
 ing him not to commit the Jiorrible act of apostasy against Christ, 
 the passing the Act repealing the Test and Corporation Acts, 
 which will draw down certainly an express judgment from God. 
 He asserts that it is a form of infidelity to maintain that the 
 King reigns for the people, and not for Christ ; and that he is 
 accountable to the people, as he is accountable to Christ alone. 
 In the course of the pamphlet, however, he insinuates that the 
 King, who has all his authority from Christ, has no power to 
 act against the Church ; and as he never explains what is the 
 Church, it seems to me to be a certain inference from his prin- 
 ciple, that the King ought to be resisted whenever he acts 
 against the judgment of God's minister, — the pastor of the 
 church of the Caledonian Chapel. 
 
 June 18th. — An interesting day. Breakfasted with Aders. 
 Wordsworth and Coleridge were there. Alfred Becher also. 
 Wordsworth was chiefly busied about making arrangements for 
 his journey into Holland. Coleridge was, as usual, very elo- 
 quent in his dreamy monologues, but he spoke intelligibly 
 enough on some interesting subjects. It seems that he has of 
 late been little acquainted with Irving. He says that he si- 
 lenced Irving by showing how completely he had mistaken the 
 sense of the Revelation and Prophecies, and then Irving kept 
 away for more than a year. Coleridge says : ^^ I consider Irv- 
 ing as a man of great power, and I have an affection for him. 
 He is an excellent man, but his brain has been turned by the 
 shoutings of the mob. I think him mad, literally mad." He 
 expressed strong indignation at Irving's intolerance. 
 
 June 18th. — A gTand dinner was given in Freemasons' 
 Tavern to celebrate a reall}^ great event. The Duke of Sussex 
 
 * Nor have I. — H. C. R., 1852. 
 
84 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 was in the chair, — not a bad chairman, though no orator. 
 Scarcely fewer than four hundred persons were present 
 I went with my brother and the Pattissons, and did not 
 grudge my two guineas, though I was not edified by the ora- 
 tory of the day. Lord John Eussell, as well as Lord Holland, 
 and, other great men, spoke (I thought) moderately, while a 
 speech from Aspland was admirable. Brougham spoke ivith 
 great mastery, both as to style and matter, and Denman with 
 effect. We did not break up till past one. Aspland's was the 
 great speech of the day, and was loudly praised. 
 
 Dr. Wurm to H. C. E. 
 
 Hamburg, June 19, 1828. 
 
 .... Did you ever meet with Hegel, or any of his works ? 
 He is now the great Leviathan among the philosophical writers 
 of his day. He enjoys the perfect confidence of the Prussian 
 government, for he has contrived to give to a strange sort of 
 pantheism a curious twist, by which it is constantly turned into 
 a most edifying Apologie des Bestehenden (Apology for things as 
 they are). Marheinecke is his theological amanuensis; his 
 motto is at least as old as the Greek mysteries, and who knows 
 but it may be older still 1 — Lasst uns Filosofen den Begriff, giht 
 dem Volke das Bild ! (Leave us philosophers the true idea, give 
 to the multitude the symbol.) 
 
 July 5th, Rem.^ — I saw " Medea " at the Italian Opera, and 
 for the first and last time in my life had an enjoyment from an 
 Opera singer and actor which might fairly be compared to that 
 which Mrs. Siddons so often afforded me. Madame Pasta gave 
 an effect to the murder scene which I could not have thought 
 possible before I witnessed it as actual. In spite of the want 
 of a tragic face or figure (for she was forced to strain her coun- 
 tenance into a frown, and make an effort to look great, and all 
 her passion was apparently conscious, and I had never before 
 witnessed the combined effect of acting with song), still the 
 effect was overpowering. What would not Mrs. Siddons have 
 made of the character % So I asked then, and ask now. The 
 scene unites all the requisites to call forth the powers she so 
 eminently possessed ; but the Grecian fable has never flourished 
 on the English stage. 
 
 On Thursday, August 6th, I set out on a tour to the Pyi'e- 
 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
 i 
 
1828.] OMNIBUSES. — BISHOP STANLEY. 85 
 
 nees, having written to Shutt, who was about to make the 
 journey. 
 
 (A very few extracts are all that will be given from Mr. 
 Robinson's Eeminiscences of this tour.) 
 
 Rem,* — On the 10th August, at Paris, my attention was 
 drawn to a novelty, — a number of long diligences inscribed, 
 "Entreprise generale pour des omnibus." And on my return, 
 in October, I made frequent use of them, paying five sous for 
 a course. I remarked then, that so rapid is the spread of all 
 substantial comforts, that they would certainly be introduced 
 in London before Christmas, as in fact they wera ; and at this 
 moment they constitute an important ingredient in London 
 comfort. Indeed they are now introduced into all the great 
 cities of Europe and America. 
 
 On the 25th of August, after a walk of seven leagues from 
 Luchon to Arreau, we had an agTeeable adventure, the memory 
 of which lasted. Shutt and I had reconciled ourselves to din- 
 ing in a neat kitchen with the people of the house, when a 
 lively-looking little man in black, a sort of Yorick in counte- 
 nance, having first sm-veyed us, stepped up and very civilly 
 offered us the use of the parlor in which were himself and his 
 family. " We have finished our dinner," he said, " and shall 
 be happy to have your company." The lady was a most agree- 
 able person, and the family altogether very amiable. We had 
 a very pleasant evening. The gentleman was a good liberal 
 Whig, and we agreed so well that, on parting next day, he 
 gave us his card. " I am a Cheshire clergyman," he said, " and 
 I shall be glad to see you at my living, if you ever are in my 
 neighborhood." 
 
 When I next saw him he was become Bishop of Norwich. 
 He did not at once recognize me when I first saw him in com- 
 pany with the Arnolds, on my going to see the Doctors por- 
 trait, but Mrs. Stanley did, and young Stanley,! the biographer 
 of Dr. Arnold, and the Bishop afterward showed me courteous 
 hospitality at his palace at Norwich, when the Archaeological 
 Institute was held there. This kindness to us strangers in 
 this little adventure in the Pyrenees was quite in harmony 
 with his character. The best of Christian bishops, he was the 
 least of a prelate imaginable ; hence he was treated Avith rude- 
 ness by the bigots when he took possession of his bishopric. 
 But he was universally beloved and lamented at his death. 
 
 On this journey I fell in also with two English exquisites, 
 
 * Written in 1852. t I>ean of Westramster. 
 
86 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 5. 
 
 who, after seeing this district, expressed their wonder that any 
 Englishman who knew Derbyshire could think the Pyrenees 
 worth seeing ; they did not. They were going to the Alps, 
 and asked me what I advised them to see. I told them, in a 
 tone of half-confidence, that, whatever people might say, there 
 was nothing worth their seeing ; and I was not at all scrupu- 
 lous ahout their misunderstanding me. At Rome, I saw some 
 sportsmen, who took over dogs to sport in the Campagna. 
 They were delighted with their sport, and had been a week 
 there without seeing St. Peter's, and probably would leave 
 Rome without going in. 
 
 December 13th, — Walked to Enfield from Mr. Relph's.* 
 I dined with Charles and Mary Lamb, and after dinner had a 
 long spell at dummy whist with them. When they went to 
 bed, I read a little drama by Lamb, " The Intruding Widow," 
 which appeared in Blackwood^ s Magazine. It is a piece of 
 great feeling, but quite unsuitable for performance, there being 
 no action whatever in it. 
 
 A great change took place this year, through my quitting 
 the bar at the end of the summer circuit. My object in being 
 called to the bar was to acquire a gentlemanly independence, 
 such at least as would enable a bachelor, of no luxurious or ex- 
 pensive habits, to enjoy good society with leisure. And having 
 about £ 200 per annum, with the prospect of something more, 
 I was not afraid to make known to my friends that, while I 
 deemed it becoming in me to continue in the profession till I 
 was fifty years of age, and until I had a net income of £500 
 per annum, I had made up my mind not to continue longer, 
 unless there were other inducements than those of mere 
 money-making, f 
 
 * Mr. Cuthbert Relph, of Turner's Hill, Cheshunt. 
 
 t In looking back on his life, Mr. Robinson used to say, that two of the 
 wisest acts he had done were going to the bar, and quitting the bar. 
 
1829.] ANTIQUARIAN SOCIETY. — ROYAL SOCIETY. 87 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 1829. 
 
 THE New Year opened on me at Witham, where I enjoyed 
 my visit with an ease I had not for many years felt, be- 
 ing relieved from all anxieties. I had already commenced my 
 studies of the Italian language, or rather renewed what I had 
 begun in Holstein twenty years before ; and I set about read- 
 ing Goldoni, a dramatist admirably suited to that object, whose 
 popularity showed the fallen state of the drama in Italy, as 
 that of his superior in the same style, Kotzebue, had lately 
 been doing in Germany. But the plays — properly sentimen- 
 tal comedies — fairly exhibited the national condition and 
 feeling in the last generation. 
 
 Febrttary 12th. — Before eight I went to the Antiquarian 
 Society, to consummate an act of folly by being' admitted an 
 F. S. A. As soon as the step was taken, every one, even the 
 members themselves, were ready to tell me how sunken the 
 Society is. They do nothing at all, says every one. Certainly 
 this evening did not put me in good-humor with myself. There 
 were about forty persons present, Hudson Gurney, M. P., in 
 the chair. Amyot presented me to him, when he ought to have 
 ceremoniously put on his hat and taken me by the hand, and 
 gravely repeated a form of words set down for him. 
 
 Two very insignificant little papers were read, from neither 
 of which did I collect a thought. One was a genealogical 
 memoir, the other an extract from a catalogue of furniture in 
 the palace of Henry VIII. No attempt to draw any inference, 
 historical or otherwise, from any one article. After one dull 
 half-hour was elapsed, another still duller succeeded, and then 
 Amyot took me as a guest to the Eoyal Society. Here, indeed, 
 the handsome hall, fine collection of portraits, the mace, and 
 the dignified deportment of the President, Davies Gilbert, were 
 enough to keep one in an agreeable state of excitement for 
 thirty minutes. But as to the memoir, what it was about I 
 do not know. Some chemical substance was the subject of 
 admeasurement, and there was something about some millionth 
 parts of an inch. After the meeting the members adjourned 
 to the iibraiy, where tea was served. Chatted there with Tiarks 
 
88 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 and others. One circumstance was pleasant enough. Amyot 
 introduced me to Davies Gilbert, the P. R. S., and he invited 
 me to his Saturday-evening parties. 
 
 Rem* — I have since made some agreeable acquaintance 
 from my connection with the Antiquarian Society, and its pro> 
 ceedings have not been without incidents of interest. 
 
 February 15th, — I was engaged to dine wnth Mr, Wansey 
 \t Walthamstow. When I arrived there I was in the greatest 
 distress, through having forgotten his name. And it was not 
 till after half an hour's worry that I recollected he was a Uni- 
 tarian, which w^ould answer as well ; for I instantly proceeded 
 to Mr. Cogan's. Having been shown into a room, young Mr. 
 Cogan came : '* Your commands, sir *? " — " Mr. Cogan, I have 
 taken the liberty to call on you in order to know w^here I am 
 to dine to-day." He smiled. I went on : *^ The truth is, I 
 have accepted an invitation to dine with a gentleman, a recent 
 acquaintance, whose name I have forgotten ; but I am sure you 
 can tell me, for he is a Unitarian, and the Unitarians are very- 
 few here." And before I had gone far in my description, he 
 said: ''This can be no other than Mr. Wansey. And now, 
 may I ask your name ? " — " No, thank you, I am much 
 obliged to you for enabling me to get a dinner, but that is no 
 reason why I should enable you to make me table-talk for the 
 next nine days." He laughed. " There is no use in your at- 
 tempting to conceal your name. I know who you are, and, as 
 a proof, I can tell you that a namesake of yours has been 
 dining with us, an old fellow-circiiiteer of yours. We have 
 just finished dinner in the old Dissenting fashion. My father 
 and mother will be very glad to see you." Accordingly I went 
 in, and sat with the Cogans a couple of hours. Mr. Cogan 
 kept a school for many years, and was almost the only Dissent- 
 ing schoolmaster whose competence as a Greek scholar was 
 acknowledged by Dr. Parr.t 
 
 February 17th. — Dined with the members of the Linnsean 
 Society at the Thatched House Tavern, — introduced by Ben- 
 son. An amusing dinner. In the chair an old gentlfeman from 
 the country, — Mr. Lambert. Present, Barrow, of the Admi- 
 ralty ; Law, Bishop of Bath and Wells ; Stokes, and, cum 
 multis aliis, Sir George Staunton. I had the good luck to be 
 placed next the latter, who amused me much. He is the son 
 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
 t The late Premier, the Right Honorable Benjamin Disraeli, received his 
 education at this school, where he remained till he was articled to a solicitor. 
 
1829.] PAUL PRY. — HUDSON GURNEY. 89 
 
 of the diplomatic traveller in China, known by his book, and 
 he himself afterwards filled the situation of his father. He 
 has a jiffle and a jerk in his bows and salutations which give 
 him a ludicrous air; but he is perfectly gentlemanly, and I 
 believe in every way respectable. He is a great traveller, a 
 bachelor, and a man of letters. We adjourned early to the 
 Linnasan Society, where I found many acquaintances. I can't 
 say I was much edified by the articles read. They rivalled 
 those of the Antiquarians and of the Royal Society in dul- 
 ness» But the people there, and the fine collection of birds 
 and insects, were at least amusing. Lord Stanley in the 
 chair. 
 
 February 21st ^ Rem.* — At six dined with Gooden. Tom 
 Hill, the real, original Paul Pry, was there, the man whom 
 everybody laughed at, and whom, on account of his good- 
 nature, many tolerated, and some made use of as a circulating 
 medium. He was reported to be of great age ; and Theodore 
 Hook circulated the apology that his baptismal register could 
 not be found, because it was burnt in the Fire of London. 
 He dealt in literary haberdashery, and was once connected wdth 
 the Mirror, a magazine, the motto of which was, " A snapper 
 up of unconsidered trifles." He was also a great fetch er and 
 carrier of gossiping paragraphs for the papers. His habit 
 of questioning was quite ludicrous ; and because it was so 
 ridiculous, it was less offensive, when he was universally 
 known. 
 
 Fehrvxiry 28th ^ Rem.\ — Went with Amyot to dine with 
 Hudson Gurney. A small party. Mr. Madden, of the British 
 Museum, Dr. Philpotts, and one lady from Norwich. A pleas- 
 ant afternoon. The defeat of Peel at Oxford was, perhaps, 
 felt by no one but Dr. Philpotts, and he was in good spirits, 
 and was very good company. He said his son w^as against him 
 at Oxford, and he was not sorry for it, which I recollect being 
 not displeased w^th him for saying. By the by, the Doctor 
 has recently written in defence of his conduct on this occasion, 
 in answer to the Edinburgh Revietv. Had the Doctor gone on 
 in the same direction as Lord Palmerston, his conduct would 
 liave been but mildly censured. It is the repeated vacillation, 
 the changing backwards as well as forwards, which cannot be 
 forgiven. 
 
 March 1st (Sunday). — Heard Irving preach a furious ser- 
 mon against Catholic Emancipation. He kept me attentive for 
 
 * Written in 1852. f Written in 1852. 
 
90 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 an houF and a half. He was very eloquent, and there was 
 enough of argument and plan in his discourse to render it 
 attractive to a thinking man. At the same time, the extrava- 
 gant absurdities he uttered were palpable. His argument was, 
 in short, this : Christ ordained that the civil and ecclesias- 
 tical government should be in different hands ; the King is 
 his vicegerent in all temporal concerns, and we owe him im- 
 plicit and absolute obedience ; the Church is equally sovereign 
 in all spiritual matters. The Devil raised up the Papacy, 
 which, grasping both powers, possesses neither ; for, whenever 
 power is given to a churchman, whenever he is raised to a 
 magistracy, there the mystery of iniquity is made manifest ; 
 hence the diabolical character of the Papal power. In order 
 to show that this doctrine is that of the Church of England, 
 Irving referred to a clause in the 37th Article, but that Article 
 merely refuses to the King the power of preaching, and of 
 administering the Sacraments ; it gives him ecclesiastical au- 
 thority in express terms ; and what has Irving to say of the 
 bench of bishops 1 Irving prayed against the passing of the 
 threatened bill, but exhorted the people to submit to the gov- 
 ernment. If persecution should follow (as is probable), they 
 are to submit to martyrdom. In the midst of a furious tirade, 
 a voice cried from the door : " That is not true ! " He finished 
 his period, and then exclaimed, after a pause : "It is well 
 when the Devil speaks from the mouth of one possessed. It 
 shows that the truth works." When I heard Irving, I thought 
 of the fanatics of Scotland in the seventeenth century. His 
 powerful voice, equally musical and tender, his admirable 
 enunciation and glorious figure, are enough to excite his au- 
 dience to rebellion, if his doctrine had permitted acts of vio- 
 lence. 
 
 Mrs. Clarkson to H. C. R. 
 
 March 12, 1829. 
 
 Perhaps it may edify you if I relate a remarkable dream of 
 my husband's- He dreamt that he was dead and laid out, and 
 was looking at his toes to see if they had laid him straight, 
 when his attention was arrested by the appearance of an angel, 
 who told him that he was sent from God to tell him that some 
 resurrection-men were coming for him ; that he was to lie quite 
 still till they came, then take the sword, which the angel laid 
 down by his side, and pursue them, and that he should l)e 
 protected. The angel disappeared, — the men came, — my 
 
1829.] A DREAM BY CLARKSON. — RHEUMATISM. 91 
 
 husband did as he was commanded, — seized the men one 
 after the other, and cut off their ears with the sword. He 
 aw^oke, laughing, at seeing them run away with their hands 
 holding their heads where the ears had been cut off. As you 
 may suppose, this dream occurred at Christmas time, when we 
 had been feasting, and the papers were filled with the Edinburgh 
 murders. If you had heard Mr. Clarkson tell the dream, you 
 would never have forgotten it. It was so exquisitely droll that, 
 for a day or two afterwards, one or other of us was perpetually 
 bursting out into laughter at the remembrance of it. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 April 22, 1829. 
 
 My DEAR Friend, — After walking to and from Deptford, 
 on the 5th of March, returning over Westminster Bridge, I 
 must e'en, in the joy of my pro-popery heart, step into the 
 avenues of the House of Commons, to hear the details of the 
 BiU that night brought forward by the Home Secretary. I 
 loitered about three quarters of an hour at midnight, chatting 
 with the emancipationist members. Went to bed at two, and 
 in the morning found my left knee as crooked as the politics 
 of the Ministry are, by the anti-Catholics, represented to be. 
 After using leeches, poultices, &c. for three weeks, I went 
 dow^n to Brighton, and again, in a most unchristian spirit, put 
 myself under the hands of the Mahometan Mahomet, — w^as 
 stewed in his vapor-baths, and shampooed under his pagan 
 paws. But I found it easier to rub in than drive out a devil, 
 for I went wdth a rheumatic knee, and came away with one 
 knee, one shoulder, and two elbows, all rheumatic. I am now 
 under a regular doctor's hands, but the malady seems obsti- 
 nate, and my present indisposition, slight as it is, serves to 
 disturb my visions of enjoyment. It is sad to feel one's 
 " animal impulses all gone by," when one is conscious of pos- 
 sessing the higher sensations but feebly. Hitherto, mere 
 locomotion has been to me, as it was to Johnson, almost enough 
 to gratify me. There was a time w^hen mere novelty of external 
 scenery (w^ithout any society whatever) sufficed. I am half 
 ashamed of becoming more nice both as to persons and places. 
 
 [This is the attack of rheumatism which called forth Lamb's 
 ** Hoax " and '* Confession." They have already been printed 
 in Talfourd's work. For reprinting here, m situ, these most 
 characteristic productions, the Editor feels assured that no 
 apology is necessary.] 
 
92 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 C. Lamb to H. C. R. 
 
 April, 1829. 
 
 Dear Robinson, — We are afraid you will slip from us, 
 from England, without again seeing us. It would be charity 
 to come and see me. I have these three days been laid up 
 with strong rheumatic pains in loins, back, shoulders. I shriek 
 sometimes from the violence of them. I get scarce any sleep, 
 and the consequence is, I am restless, and want to change sides 
 as I lie, and I cannot turn without resting on my hands, and so 
 turning all my body at once, like a log with a lever. 
 
 While this rainy weather lasts I have no hope of alleviation. 
 I have tried flannels and embrocation in vain. Just at the 
 hip-joint the pangs sometimes are so excruciating that I cry 
 out. It is as violent as the cramp, and far more continuous. 
 I am ashamed to whine about these complaints to you, who 
 can ill enter into them. 
 
 But, indeed, they are sharp. You go about in rain or fine, 
 at all hours, without discommodity. I envy you your im- 
 munity at a time of life not much removed from my own. 
 But you owe your exemption to temperance, which it is too 
 late for me to pursue. I, in my lifetime, have had my good 
 things. Hence my frame is brittle, — - yours strong as brass. 
 I never knew any ailment you had. You can go out at night 
 in all weathers, sit up all hours. Well, I don't want to 
 moralize. I only wish to say that if you are inclined to a game 
 at Double Dummy, I would try and bolster up myself in a 
 chair for a rubber or so. My days are tedious, but less so and 
 less painful than my nights. May you never know the pain 
 and difficulty I have in writing so much ! Mary, who is most 
 kind, joins in the wish. C. Lamb. 
 
 Confession of Hoax. 
 
 I do confess to mischief. It was the subtlest diabolical piece 
 of malice heart of man has contrived. I have no more rheu- 
 matism than that poker, — never was freer from all pains and 
 aches ; every joint sound, to the tip of the ear from the 
 extremity of the lesser toe. The report of thy torments was 
 blown circuitously here from Bury. I could not resist the jeer. 
 I conceived you writhing, when you should just receive my 
 congratulations. How mad j^ou 'd be ! Well, it is not in my 
 method to inflict pangs. I leave that to Heaven. But in the 
 existing pangs of a friend I have a share. His disquietude 
 
1829.] PRETENDED PALINODE. 93 
 
 crowns my exemption. I imagine you howling, and pace across 
 
 the room, shooting out my free arms, legs, &c., / \ / / 
 
 this way and that way, with an assurance of not kindling a 
 spark of pain from them. I deny that nature meant us to 
 sympathize with agonies. Those face-contortions, retortions, 
 distortions, have the merriness of antics. Nature meant them 
 for farce, — not so pleasant to the actor, indeed ; but Grimaldi 
 cries when we laugh, and 'tis but one that suffers to make 
 thousands rejoice. 
 
 You say that shampooing is inei^ Ji>aal. But "per se it is 
 good, to show the introvolutions, extravolutions, of which the 
 animal frame is capable, — to show what the creature is 
 receptible of, short of dissolution. 
 
 You are worst of nights, ain't you ] 
 
 'T will be as good as a sermon to you to lie abed all this 
 night, and meditate the subject of the day. 'T is Good Friday. 
 
 Nobody will be the more justified for your endurance. You 
 won't save the soul of a mouse. 'T is a pure selfish pleasure. 
 
 You never was rack'd, was you ] I should like an authentic 
 map of those feelings. 
 
 You seem to have the flying gout. You can scarcely screw 
 a smile out of your face, can you'? I sit at immunity, and 
 sneer ad libitum, 
 
 'T is now the time for you to make good resolutions. I may 
 go on breaking 'em, for anything the worse I find myself. 
 
 Your doctor seems to keep you on the long cure. Precipitate 
 healings are never good. 
 
 Don't come while you are so bad. I sha' n't be able to attend 
 to your throes and the dummy at once. 
 
 I should like to know how slowly the pain goes off. But 
 don't write, unless the motion will be likely to make your sen- 
 sibility more exquisite. 
 
 Your affectionate and truly healthy friend, 
 
 C. Lamb. 
 
 Mary thought a letter from me might amuse you in your 
 torment. 
 
 April 2Jfth, — Breakfasted with Eichard Sharpe by appoint- 
 ment. He gave me verbal advice about my intended tour in 
 Italy, and which he is to reduce to writing. A very gratifying 
 
94 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 6. 
 
 two hours' chat^ with him. He is commonly called " Conver- 
 sation Sharpe." He has lived in the best society, and belongs 
 to the last generation. In his room w^ere five most interesting 
 portraits, all of men he knew, — Johnson, Burke, and Eeynolds 
 by Keynolds, Henderson by Gainsborough, and Mackintosh 
 by Opie. I will not pretend here to put down any part of his 
 conversation, except that he mentioned the Finstermunz Pass 
 as the very finest spot in the Tyrol, and that he recommends 
 my going to Laibach. He spoke of a philosophical work he 
 means to publish, but I do not think he will ever have any 
 higher fame than tli^i^aof being ** Conversation Sharpe." He 
 certainly talks well.* 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 Rydal Mount, Kendal, April 26, 1829. 
 
 My dear Friend, — Dora holds the pen for me. A month 
 ago the east wind gave me an inflammation in my left eyelid, 
 which led, as it always does, to great distress of the eye, so that 
 I have been unable either to read or write, which privations I 
 bear patiently ; and also a third, full as grievous, - — a necessary 
 cessation from the amusement of composition, and almost of 
 thought. Truly were we grieved to hear of your illness, first, 
 from Mr. Quillinan, and this morning from your own account, 
 which makes the case much worse than we had apprehended. 
 .... I enter thoroughly into w^hat you say of the manner in 
 which this malady has affected your locomotive habits and 
 propensities ; and I gTieve still more when I bear in mind how 
 active you have ever been in going about to serve your friends 
 and to do good. Motion, so mischievous in most, was in you 
 
 a beneficent power indeed My sister-in-law. Miss Joanna 
 
 Hutchinson, and her brother Henry, an ex-sailor, are about to 
 embark, at the Isle of Man, for Norway, to remain till July. 
 Were I not tied at home I should certainly accompany them. 
 As far as I can look back. I discern in my mind imaginative 
 traces of Norway ; the people are said to be simple and worthy, 
 — the Nature is magnificent. I have heard Sir H. Davy afiirm 
 that there is nothing equal to some of the ocean inlets of that 
 region It would have been a great joy to us to have seen 
 
 * He was a partner of Samuel Boddington, and had acquired wealth hi busi- 
 ness. He once obtained a seat in Parliament, made a single speech, and was 
 never heard of afterwards. Wordsworth held him to be better acquainted 
 with Italy than any other man, and advised me to ask his advice concerning 
 my journey. — H. C. R. 
 
1829.] LETTER FROM WORDSWORTH. — DR. YOUNG. 95 
 
 you, though upon a melancholy occasion. You talk of the 
 more than chance of your being absent upwards of t^YO years. 
 I am entered my sixtieth year. Strength must be failing ] 
 and snappings off, as the danger my dear sister has just es- 
 caped lamentably proves, ought not to be long out of sight. 
 Were she to depart, the phasis of my moon would be robbed 
 of light to a degree that I have not courage to think of Dm'- 
 ing her illness, we often thought of your high esteem of her 
 goodness, and of your kindness towards her upon all occasions. 
 Mrs, Wordsworth is still with her. Dora is my housekeeper, 
 and did she not hold the pen, it would run wild in her praises. 
 Sara Coleridge, one of the loveliest and best of creatures, is with 
 me, so that I am an enviable person, notwithstanding our 
 domestic impoverishment. I have nothing to say of books 
 (newspapers having employed all the voices I could command), 
 except that the first volume of Smith's " Nollekens and his 
 Times " has been read to me. There are some good anecdotes 
 in the book ; the one which made most impression on me was 
 that of Reynolds, who is reported to have taken from the print 
 of a halfpenny ballad in the street an effect in one of his pic- 
 tures which pleased him more than anything he had produced. 
 If you were here, I might be tempted to talk with you about 
 the Duke's settling of the Catholic question. Yet why % for 
 you are going to Eome, the very centre of light, and can have 
 no occasion for my farthing candle. Dora joins me in affec- 
 tionate regards ; she is a stanch anti-papist, in a woman's way, 
 and perceives something of the retributive hand of justice in 
 your rheumatism ] but, nevertheless, like a true Christian, she 
 
 prays for your speedy convalescence 
 
 Wm. Wordsworth. 
 
 April 29tJi, — Dined at the Athenaeum. Hudson Gurney 
 asked me to dine with him. He was low-spirited. His friend. 
 Dr. Young, is dying. Gurney speaks of him as a very great 
 man, the most learned physician and greatest mathematician 
 of his age, and the first discoverer of the clew to the Egyptian 
 hieroglyphics. Calling on him a few^ days ago, Gurney found 
 him busy about his Egyptian Dictionary, though very ill. He 
 is aware of his state, but that makes him most anxious to fin- 
 ish his work. '' I would not," he said to Gurney, '' live a 
 single idle day." 
 
 May 8th. — Went by the early coach to Enfield, being on 
 the road from half past eight till half past ten o'clock. Lamb 
 
96 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, a 
 
 was from home a great part of the morning. I spent the 
 whole of the day with him and his sister, without going out of 
 the house, except for a mile before dinner with Miss Lamb. I 
 had plenty of books to lounge over. I read Brougham's In- 
 troduction to the Library of Useful Knowledge, remarkable 
 only as coming from the busiest man living, a lawyer in full 
 practice, a partisan in Parliament, an Edinburgh Reviewer, and 
 a participator in all public and party matters. 
 
 May 9th. — Nearly the whole day within doors. I merely 
 sunned myself at noon on the beautiful Enfield Green. When 
 I was not with the Lambs, I employed myself in looking over 
 Charles's books, of which no small number are curious. He 
 throws away all modern books, but retains even the trash he 
 liked when a boy. Looked over a " Life of Congreve," one of 
 Ciu-U's infamous publications, containing nothing. Also the 
 first edition of the "Rape of the Lock," with the machinery.* 
 It is curious to observe the improvements in the versification. 
 CoUey Gibber's pamphlets against Pope only flippant and dis- 
 gusting, — nothing worth notice. Read the beginnings of two 
 wretched novels. Lamb and his sister were both in a fidget 
 to-day about the departure of their old servant Becky, who had 
 been with them many years, but, being ill-tempered, had been a 
 plague and a tyrant to them. Yet Miss Lamb was frightened 
 at the idea of a new servant. However, their new maid, a 
 cheerful, healthy girl, gave them spirits, and all the next day 
 Lamb was rejoicing in the change. Moxon came very late. 
 
 May 10th, — All the forenoon in the back room with the 
 Lambs, except that I went out to take a place in the evening 
 stage. About noon Talfourd came : he had walked. Moxon, 
 after a long walk, returned to dinner, and we had an agreeable 
 chat between dinner and tea. 
 
 May 11th, Rem.f — A general meeting at the Athenaeum, 
 at which I rendered good service to the club. The anecdote is 
 worth relating, mainly because it is characteristic of a man 
 who played an important part in public life. I speak of the 
 Right Honorable Wilson Groker, for many years regarded as 
 really master, though nominally the Secretary, of the Admi- 
 ralty, who was one of the most active of the founders of the 
 Athenseum Glub. He was one of the Trustees of the House, 
 a permanent member of the Gommittee, and, according to 
 
 * The poem was first published in two cantos ; but the author, adopting the 
 idea of enlivening it by the machinery of sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and sala- 
 manders, then familiar' topics, enlarged the two cantos to five. 
 
 t Written in 1852. 
 
 i: 
 
1829.] CROKER A CLUB DESPOT. 97 
 
 common report, the officious manager and despot, ruling the 
 club at his will. I had been told in the morning that the 
 Committee had meant to have a neat portico of foiu* columns, 
 — the one actually erected, — but that Croker had arbitrarily 
 changed the plan, and the foundations were then digging for a 
 portico of two columns, not at all becoming so broad a space 
 as the front comprises. At the meeting, after the report had 
 been read, Dr. Henderson made an attack on the Committee, 
 reproaching them for their lavish expenditure. This suited 
 my purpose admirably, for on this I rose and said, that so far 
 were the Committee from meriting this reproach, that, on the 
 contrary, a mistaken desire to be economical had, I believed, 
 betrayed them into an act which I thought the body of the 
 proprietors would not approve, and on which I would take 
 their opinion. I then began to state the point about the por- 
 tico, when Mr. Croker interrupted me, saying I was under a 
 great mistake, — that there never was any intention to have 
 any other portico than the one now preparing. This for a mo- 
 ment perplexed me, but I said : ^^ Of course the chairman 
 meant that no other portico had been resolved on, which might 
 well be. Individual men might be deterred by his opposition, 
 but I knew," raising my voice, " that there were other designs, 
 for I had seen them." Then Mr. Croker requested me, as an 
 act of politeness, to abstain from a motion which would be 
 an affront to the Committee. This roused me, an4 I said that 
 if any other gentleman would say he thought my motion 
 an affront, I would not make it ; but I meant otherwise. And 
 then I added expressions which forced him to say that I had 
 certainly expressed myself most handsomely, but it would be 
 much better to leave the matter in the hands of the Commit- 
 tee. " That," I said, " is the question which you will, in fact, 
 by my motion, submit to the meeting." There was then a cry 
 of " Move, move," and a very large number of hands w^ere 
 held up for the motion. So it passed by acclamation. I was 
 thanked by the architect, and everybody was pleased with 
 what I had done. 
 
 May 12th. — On the Bury coach met young Incledon, the 
 son of the famous singer, with whom I had a long chat. He 
 is about to go on the stage, at the age of thirty-eight, having 
 been unfortunate in farming, and having a family to maintain. 
 He has accepted a very advantageous offer from Drury Lane, 
 and will come on the stage under the patronage of Braham, 
 who means to abandon to him his younger characters. His 
 
 VOL. II. 5 Q 
 
98 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7 
 
 dislike to the profession is extreme, and amounts to diseased 
 antipathy ; it partakes of a moral and religious character. 
 
 Rem,* — He had always avowed this horror of a theatrical 
 life, though it used to be said by his Suffolk friends, that his 
 voice was equal to his father's. I have no knowledge of his 
 subsequent history, nor do I recollect hearing of his carrying 
 out this intention. 
 
 May 15th. — Drove with my sister and niece to see Lord 
 Bristol's new house. A fine object, certainly, even in its pro- 
 gress. The only work of art it yet contains is a noble per- 
 formance by Flaxman, '' Athamas and Ino." t It will be the 
 pride of the hall when set up. It is more massive than Flax- 
 man's works generally are, and the female figure more embon- 
 point. The proportions of the head and neck of Ino are not, 
 I fear, to be justified. There is vast expression of deep pas- 
 sion in all the figures. The beautiful frieze of the " Iliad " is 
 placed too high to be easily seen, but that of the '' Odyssey '' 
 below is most delightful. There are some compartments not 
 from the ** Odyssey," nor, I believe, by Flaxman. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GERMANY. 
 
 JUNE IJfih, — Rose at five, though I had gone to bed at 
 two. My kind friends, the Colliers, made coffee for me, 
 and at seven I left them and proceeded to Antwerp by steam- 
 boat. I did not on this occasion leave England with the holi- 
 day feeling which I have had for many years on beginning my 
 summer excursions. Now I have given up my chambers, and 
 I set out on a journey with no very clear or distinct object. I 
 have a vague desire to see new countries and new people, and 
 I hope that, as I have hitherto enjoyed myself while travel- 
 ling, I shall be still able to relish a rambling life, though my 
 rheumatic knee will not permit me to be so active as I have 
 hitherto been. 
 
 The rich variety of romantic scenery between Coblenz and 
 Bingen kept me in a state of excitement and pleasure, which 
 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
 \ It is still there, but looks rery cold and uncomfortable, as does the house. 
 
1829.] ^^^^^P> TOLR IX GERMANY. 99 
 
 palled not a moment. Sentiment was mingled with the per- 
 ceptions of beauty. I recollected with interest my adventures 
 on the Rhine in 1801, my walk up the Lahn valley, my night 
 at St. Goar, tkc, &c. I had, besides, the pleasure of interest- 
 ing conversation. 
 
 I wished to see an interesting man at Mainz, — Hofrath 
 Jung.* I found him a very old man, nearly blind, and with 
 declining faculties. He is seventy-six. But to me he is a 
 most interesting man. His family, I have since heard, would 
 be a source of anxiety to him, did he not live in a voluntary 
 dream of sentimental piety. He himself introduced me to his 
 daughter, who has been many years bedridden, suffering from 
 nervous complaints. I was permitted to sit with her a quarter 
 of an hour. She also interested me deeply. With him I took 
 a walk for nearly two hours in the avenue beyond the gates. 
 He is one of the cheerful and hopeful contemplators of human 
 life. He believes practically that everything is for the best, 
 — that the German governments are all improving, — and that 
 truth is everywhere making progress. This progress he likens 
 to the travelling in penance of certain pilgrims, who go two 
 steps forward and one back. They get on. 
 
 June 23d. — An'ived at Frankfort, and remained there, at 
 the Weidenbusch, till the 9th of July. I had the satisfaction 
 of finding myself not forgotten by my old friends, though so 
 many years have elapsed since my last visit. Souchays, Myli- 
 uses, Schuncks, Brentanos, Charlotte Serviere, — the old fa- 
 mihar names, and the faces too, — but these all changed. 
 Von Leonhardi has become enfeebled. " Philosophy," he said, 
 " is gone by in Germany, and the love of civil and religious 
 liberty is out of fashion. The liberty of the press the Ger- 
 mans are not ripe for yet." My old acquaintance Christian 
 Brentano has become a pietist, and all but a fanatic. De La- 
 me nnais is his hero now. 
 
 Among the curiosities of literature I fell in with was a 
 treatise on medicine by a Dr. Windischmann, Ueher etwas 
 das der Heilkunst Noth thut, i. e. " Of Something that the 
 Art of Healing needs." It treats, first, of the ordinary modes 
 of cure ; secondly, of magnetic cures ; and thirdly, of cures 
 by means of faith and prayer. The author a Professor at the 
 Prussian University at Bonn, — and the English suppose the 
 Germans are all infidels ! 
 
 July 9th. — I proceeded to Heidelberg, where I spent twelve 
 
 * See Vol. I. p. 107. 
 
100 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7 
 
 days very pleasantly. My enjoyment was enhanced by a very 
 agi'eeable incident. My arrival having been announced, a dinner 
 given at the Castle, by Benecke, to our common friends, was 
 postponed, that I might be a partaker. Under a shed in a 
 garden at this delightful spot, a party of more than a dozen 
 assembled ; and the day was not one to be forgotten with or- 
 dinary festive meetings. 
 
 Here I found my friend Benecke in his proper place. Re- 
 moved from the cares and anxieties of commerce, he can de- 
 vote himself to philosophical speculation. His religious doc- 
 trines, though they have not the assent of the great body of 
 Christian believers, are yet such as excite no jealousy on the 
 part of the orthodox, and at the same time occupy his whole 
 soul, have his entire confidence, and nourish his warm affec- 
 tions. He is conscious of enjoying general esteem. 
 
 My time at Heidelberg, as at Frankfort, was chiefly em- 
 ployed in visits to old friends, which afforded me great pleas- 
 ure, though I cannot here enter into particulars. 
 
 Among the eminent persons whom I saw was Thibaut, head 
 of the Faculty of Law, my protector and friend at Jena in 1804. 
 He seems dissatisfied with all religious parties, and it is hard 
 to know what he would like. I thought of Pococurante : 
 *' Quel grand homme^'' says Candide, " rien ne lui plait ^ Thibaut 
 is a great musical amateur, and all his leisure is devoted to 
 the art. But of modern music he spoke contemptuously. Be- 
 ing a Liberal in politics, he is an admirer of the political in- 
 stitutions of our coimtry ; but as to fine art, his opinion of our 
 people is such, that he affirmed no Englishman ever produced 
 a musical sound worth hearing, or drew a line worth looking at. 
 Perhaps he was thinking of color, rather than outline or sculp- 
 ture. I saw also, on two or three occasions, Hofrath Schlosser, 
 the historian, — a very able man, the maker of his own fortune. 
 He is a rough, vehement man, but I believe thoroughly upright 
 and conscientious. His works are said to be excellent.* He is 
 a man of whom I wish to see more. 
 
 Benecke took me to Mittermaier, the jurist. I feel humbled 
 in the presence of the very laborious professor, who, in addition 
 to mere professional business as judge, legislative commissioner, 
 and University professor, edits, and in a great measure writes, 
 a law journal. And as a diversion he has studied English law 
 more learnedly than most of our own lawyers, and qualified him- 
 self to write on the subject. 
 
 * His voluminous " History of the Eighteenth Century" was translated into 
 English by the Rev. D. Davison, 
 
1829.] TOUR IN GERMANY. 101 
 
 Twice I had a tete-a-tete conversation with Paulus. There 
 is something interesting in this famous anti-supernaturalist. He 
 is in his old age inspired by a disinterested zeal against priests 
 and privileged orders, and is both honest and benevolent. He 
 declaims against our Catholic emancipation, because the govern- 
 ment neglected to avail themselves of the opportunity of taking 
 education out of the hands of the priests. As to the state of 
 religion, he says that there is little right-down orthodoxy left in 
 Protestant Germany. He ims a fine strong man, of great bodily 
 vigor.* Both he and Hofrath Schlosser thought constitutional 
 liberty not in danger from the French ultras. 
 
 Jiily 22d. — Returned to Frankfort. A very fine morning. 
 Darmstadt looked invitingly handsome as I rode through. At 
 Frankfort, I had the pleasure of seeing the famous Prussian 
 minister. Baron von Stein, who was outlawed by Buonaparte. 
 A fine old man, with a nose nearly as long as Zenobio's, which 
 gives his countenance an expression of comic sagacity. He is 
 by no means in favor at the Court of Prussia. I was glad of 
 an opportunity of telling him that I had written in his praise 
 in the Quarterly Review.^ 
 
 I called on Madame Niese, the Protestant sister of Madame 
 Schlosser. Though herself somewhat a zealot in religion, the 
 conversion of Madame Schlosser to Roman Catholicism has 
 caused no alienation of afibction betw^een the sisters. By the 
 by, Paulus told me that he had taken pains to dissuade some 
 Catholics from going over to the Protestant religion. 
 
 July 24th. — Left Frankfort, and after travelling two nights 
 reached Weimar on the 26th, early. Very soon proceeded to 
 Jena in a hired chaise. A dull drive. It used to be a delight- 
 ful walk twenty-eight years ago. But I remarked, with pleasure, 
 that the old steep and dangerous ascent, the Schnecke, is turned, 
 and the road is made safe and agreeable. Found my old fi:'iend 
 Von Knebel but little changed, though eleven years older than 
 when I last saw him. His boy, Bernard, is now a very interest- 
 ing youth of sixteen. I have not often seen a boy w^ho pleases 
 
 * The HomiJetische Correspondenz, in an article on Paulns's " Life of Christ,'' 
 gives an account of his interpretation of the miracles, which is certainly as bu- 
 ns, anything can be imagined. He does not scruple to represent the feeding of 
 the 5,000 as a picnic entertainment. He refers to essence of punch in connec- 
 tion with the turning of water into wine. Jesus Christ is represented as a good 
 surgeon, who could cure diseases of the nerves by working on the imagination. 
 The Ascension was a walk up a mountain on which was a cloud. Such things 
 are common enough among avowed unbelievers, but that they should be thought 
 compatible with the ministerial office, and also a Professor's'Chair at a Univer- 
 sity, and by Protestant governments, is the wonder ! — H. C. R. 
 
 T See ante, p. 16. 
 
102 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 me so much. Went early to bed, sleeping in my delightful old 
 room, from which the views on three sides are charming. 
 
 July 29th, — Set out on an interesting excursion of three 
 days. Frau von Knebel and Bernard accompanied me in a 
 drosky to Gumperda, near Kahla, in the Duchy of Altenburg. 
 There Charles von Knebel is feudal lord of a Rittergut in right 
 of his w4fe, a widow lady, whom he married a few years ago. 
 Gumperda lies about three and a quarter leagues from Jena, in 
 a valley beyond Cahla, and the ride is through a very fine coun- 
 try. I received a very cordial welcome from Charles von Knebel. 
 The mansion is solitary and spacious. We had tea in a hang- 
 ing wood, half-way up the sides of the mountain. I afterwards 
 walked with my host to the summit, from which the view is ex- 
 tensive and interesting. I retired early to bed, and read Dor- 
 ing's very unsatisfactory "' Life of Herder." 
 
 July SOth, — C. von Knebel farms of the Duke of Weimar 
 the chase of a forest, i. e. he has a right to the deer, &c. In this 
 forest a hut has been erected for the use of the foresters, and 
 my friends planned that we should dine there to-day, in order 
 that I might see the neighborhood. After a pleasant drive, we 
 roamed about the forest, and I enjoyed the day. Forest scenery 
 wearies less than any. 
 
 July Slst. — Interested in attending the court, of which my 
 friend is the Lord. A sensible young man sat as judge, and 
 there was a sort of homage. The proceedings were both civil 
 and criminal, and so various as to show an extensive jurisdic- 
 tion. The most important cases were two in which old people 
 delivered up all their property to their children, on condition 
 of being maintained by them. The judge explained to the 
 children their obligation, and all the parties put their hands 
 into his. The following were some of the punishments : One 
 man was sentenced to a day's imprisonment for stealing a very 
 little wood. Others w^ere fined for having false weights. One 
 was imprisoned for resisting gens-d'armes. Another for going 
 into a court-yard with a lighted pipe. The only act which 
 offended my notion of justice was fining a man for killing his 
 own pig, and selling the pork in fraud of the butcher. The 
 proceedings were quite patriarchal in their form. A few days 
 of such experience as mine to-day would give a better idea of a 
 country than many a long journey in mail-coaches. One of the 
 domestics of Charles von Knebel took an oath before the judge 
 to be a faithful servant. This court seems a sort of court of 
 premiere instance. The barons in Saxony, I was assured, are 
 
1829.] TOUR IN GERMANY. 103 
 
 rather desirous to get rid of, than to maintain, their higher 
 jurisdiction, from which there is an appeal to the Ducal 
 Court. 
 
 Frau von Knebel (Jun.) related some interesting particu- 
 lars of her early life. She was educated at Nancy, at an es- 
 tablishment kept by Madame la H. Among the pupils were 
 princesses, and most of the young ladies were of good family ; 
 but there were a few of low birth. Not the slightest distinc- 
 tion, however, was made. They w^ere taught useful things, 
 such as cooking in all its branches. And certainly Frau von 
 Knebel, though her life has been spent chiefly in courts, is a 
 most excellent manager and housewife. She was maid of hon- 
 or at the Baden Court, and there used to see the members of 
 Napoleon's Court. She was terribly afraid of Napoleon. Of 
 Josephine, on whom she attended, she spoke with rapture, as 
 equally kind-hearted and dignified. Josephine was several 
 times in tears when Frau von Knebel entered the room. 
 
 On the 2d of August I went over to Weimar, and had an 
 interview with the poet. Goethe is so great a man that I shall 
 not scruple to copy the minutest incidents I find in my jour- 
 nal, and add others which I distinctly recollect. But, fearing 
 repetition, I will postpone what I have to say of him till I 
 finally leave Jena. I continued to make it my head-quarters 
 till the 13th. I saw, of course, most of my old acquaintance. 
 A considerable portion of my time was spent in reading poetry 
 with Knebel, and, after all, I did not fully impress him wdth 
 Wordsworth's power. My journal gives the following account 
 of the day before that of my departure : Rose at six, and 
 the morning being fine, I took a delightful walk up the Haus- 
 berg, and, starting on the south side by way of Ziegenhain, 
 ascended the famous Fuchsthurm, a lofty watch-tower of great 
 antiquity. . It has also modern celebrity, for Buonaparte w^ent 
 up for military purposes, and it was called Napoleonsberg. 
 This occupied me nearly three hours. I read an essay by 
 Schleiermacher on the establisnment of a University at Berlin. 
 After breakfast I had a long chat with Knebel. He informed me 
 of his father's life. He was in the service of the last Margrave 
 of Anspach, and was almost the only nobleman whom the 
 Margrave associated w4th after he was entangled with Lady 
 Craven, whom Knebel himself recollected. He did not give a 
 favorable account of her. But the Margrave w^as a kind- 
 hearted man, and a good prince. His people loved him. I 
 dined with Voigt, and returned early to Knebel, with whom I 
 
104 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 had in the evening a long and interesting conversation. It is 
 but too probable that I have now seen for the last time one 
 of the most amiable men I ever knew, and one most truly at- 
 tached to me. He is eighty-five years of age. 
 
 I saw on several occasions Frau von Wolzogen. She was in 
 the decline of life, and belonged to the complainers. She ap- 
 peared in the literary world as the author of a novel, entitled 
 " Agnes von Lilien," which was ascribed to Goethe ; and she 
 is now remembered as the author of a " Life of Schiller," 
 whose wife was her sister. She belonged to the aristocracy of 
 Jena, and her house was visited by the higher classes, though 
 she was not rich. 
 
 During my stay at Jena I had leisure for reading, early and 
 late. Among the books I read with most interest was the 
 ** Correspondence of Goethe and Schiller." This collection is 
 chiefly interesting from the contrast between the two. A de- 
 lightful effect is produced by the affectionate reverence of 
 Schiller towards Goethe ; and infinitely below Goethe as Schil- 
 ler must be deemed in intellect and poetical power, yet as a 
 man he engrosses our affection. Goethe seems too great to be 
 an object of love, even to one so great as Schiller. Their po- 
 etical creed, if called in question, might be thought the same, 
 but their practice was directly opposed. Schiller was raised 
 by Goethe, and Goethe was sustained by Schiller: without 
 Schiller, Goethe might have mournfully quoted Pope's coup- 
 let,— 
 
 " Condemned in business, as in life, to trudge, 
 Without a second, and without a judge." 
 
 Schiller was not, indeed, a perfect judge, for that implies a 
 superior, — at least one who can overlook ; but his was an in- 
 spiring mind. Goethe was able to read himself in Schiller, and 
 understood himself from the reflection. The book will be in- 
 valuable to future historians of German literature at this its 
 most glorious epoch. 
 
 August 2d. — A golden day ! Voigt and I left Jena before 
 seven, and in three hours were at Weimar. Having left our 
 cards at Goethe's dwelling-house, we proceeded to the garden- 
 house in the park, and were at once admitted to the great 
 man. I was aware, by the present of medals from him, that 
 I was not forgotten, and I had heard from Hall and others 
 that I was expected. Yet I wp.s oppressed by the kindness 
 of his reception. We found the old man in his cottage in the 
 park, to which he retires for solitude from his town-house 
 
1^2<J.J ^^^* TOUR IN GKRMANY. 105 
 
 where are his son, his daughter-in-law, and three grandchildren. 
 He generally eats and drinks alone ; and when he invites a 
 stranger, it is to a tete-a-tete. This is a wise sparing of his 
 strength. Twenty-seven years ago I thus described him : 
 *' In Goethe I beheld an elderly man of terrific dignity ; a 
 penetrating and insupportable eye, — ' the eye, like Jove, to 
 threaten or command,' — a somewhat aquiline nose, and most 
 expressive lips, which, when closed, seemed to be making an 
 effort to move, as if they could with difficulty keep their hid- 
 den treasures from bursting forth. His step was firm, en- 
 nobling an otherwise too corpulent body ; there was ease in 
 his gestures, and he had a free and enkindled air." Now I 
 beheld the same eye, indeed, but the eyebrows were become 
 thin, the cheeks were furrowed, the lips no longer curled with 
 fearful compression, and the lofty, erect posture had sunk 
 to a gentle stoop. Then he never honored me with a look 
 after the first haughty bow, now he was all courtesy. *^ Well, 
 you are come at last," he said ; ** we have waited years for 
 you. How is my old friend Knebel ] You have given him 
 youth again, I have no doubt." In his room, in which there 
 was a French bed without curtains, hung two large engi'av- 
 ings : one, the well-known panoramic view of Rome ; the other, 
 the old square engraving, an imaginary restoration of the an- 
 cient public buildings. Both of these I then possessed, but I 
 have now given them to University Hall, London. He spoke 
 of the old engi-aving as what delighted him, as showing what 
 the scholars thought in the fifteenth century. The opinion 
 of scholars is now changed. In like manner he thought favor- 
 ably of the panoramic view, though it is incorrect, including 
 objects which cannot be seen from the same spot. 
 
 I had a second chat with him late in the evening. We 
 talked much of Lord Byron, and the subject was renewed 
 afterwards. To refer to detached subjects of conversation, I 
 ascertained that he was imacquainted with Burns's " Vision." 
 This is most remarkable, on account of its close resemblance 
 to the Zueignung (dedication) to his own works, because the 
 whole logic of the two poems is the same. Each poet con- 
 fesses his infirmities ; each is consoled by the Muse, — the 
 holly-leaf of the Scotch poet being the " veil of dew and sun- 
 beams " of the German. I pointed out this resemblance to 
 Frau von Goethe, and she acknowledged it. 
 
 This evening I gave Goethe an account of De Lamennais, 
 and quoted from him a passage importing that all truth comes 
 
 5* 
 
10^ REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 from God, and is made known to us by the Church. He held 
 at the moment a flower in his hand, and a beautiful butterfly 
 was in the room. He exclaimed : *^ No doubt all truth comes 
 from God ; but the Church ! There 's the point. God speaks 
 to us through this flower and that butterfly ; and that 's a lan- 
 guage these Spitzhuhen don't understand." Something led him 
 to speak of Ossian with contempt. I remarked : ^^ The taste 
 for Ossian is to be ascribed to you in a great measure. It w^as^ 
 Werter that set the fashion." He smiled, and said : " That \ 
 partly true ; but it was never perceived by the critics that 
 Werter praised Homer while he retained his senses, and Ossian 
 when he was going mad. But reviewers do not notice such 
 things." I reminded Goethe that Napoleon loved Ossian. " It 
 was the contrast with his own nature," Goethe replied. " He 
 loved soft and melancholy music. ^ Werther ' w^as among his 
 books at St. Helena." 
 
 We spoke of the emancipation of the Catholics. Goethe 
 said : " My daughter will be glad to talk about it ; I take no 
 interest in such matters." On leaving him the first evening, 
 he kissed me three times. (I w^as always before disgusted 
 with man's kisses.) Voigt never saw him do so much to any 
 other. 
 
 He pressed me to spend some days at Weimar on my re- 
 turn ; and, indeed, afterwards induced me to protract my stay. 
 I was there from the 13th of August till the 19th. 
 
 I cannot pretend to set dow^n our conversations in the order 
 in which they occurred. On my return from Jena, I was more 
 aware than before that Goethe was grown old ; perhaps, be- 
 cause he did not exert himself so much. His expression of 
 feeling was, however, constantly tender and kind. He was 
 alive to his reputation in England, and apparently mortified at 
 the poor account I gave of Lord Leveson Gow^er's translation of 
 *' Faust " ; though I did not choose to tell him that his noble 
 translator, as an apology, said he did it as an exercise while 
 learning the language. On my mentioning that Lord Leveson 
 Gow^er had not ventured to translate the ^^ Prologue in Heaven," 
 he seemed surprised. '* How so 1 that is quite unobjectionable. 
 The idea is in Job." He did not perceive that that was the 
 aggravation, not the excuse. He was surprised w^hen I told 
 him that the " Sorrows of Werther " was a mistranslation, — 
 sorrow being Kummer, — Leiden is sufferings. 
 
 I spoke with especial admiration of his " Carnival at Rome." 
 " I shall be there next winter, and shall be glad if the thing 
 
1829.] TOUR IN GERMANY. 107 
 
 give me half the pleasure I had m reading the description." 
 — " Ay, mein Lieber, but it won't do that ! To let you into 
 a secret, nothing can be more wearisome {ennuyant) than that 
 Carnival. I wrote that account really to relieve myself. My 
 lodgings were in the Corso. I stood on the balcony, and jotted 
 down everything I saw. There is not a single item invented." 
 And then, smiling, he said : ^' We poets are much more matter- 
 of-fact people than they who are not poets have any idea of ; 
 and it w^as the truth and reality which made that writing so 
 popular." This is in harmony w^ith Goethe's known doctrine : 
 he was a decided realist, and an enemy to the ideal, as he re- 
 lates in the history of his first acquaintance with Schiller. 
 Speaking this evening of his travels in Switzerland, he said 
 that he still possessed all that he has in print called his '' Ac- 
 tenstilcke^^ (documents) : that is, tavern-bills, accounts, adver- 
 tisements, &c. And he repeated his remark that it is by the 
 laborious collection of facts that even a poetical view^ of nature 
 is to be corrected and authenticated. I mentioned Marlowe's 
 " Faust." He burst out into an exclamation of praise. "How 
 greatly is it all planned ! " He had thought of translating 
 it. He was fully aware that Shakespeare did not stand 
 alone. 
 
 This, and indeed every evening, I believe. Lord Byron was 
 the subject of his praise. He said : '' Es sind keine Flickw'drter 
 im Gediclitey (There is no padding in his poetry.) And he 
 compared the brilliancy and clearness of his style to a metal 
 wire drawn through a steel plate. In the complete edition of 
 Byron's works, including the " Life " by Moore, there is a state- 
 ment of the connection between Goethe and Byron. At the 
 time of my interviews with Goethe, Byron's " Life " was ac- 
 tually in preparation. Goethe was by no means indifferent to 
 the account which w^as to be given to the world of his own re- 
 lations to the English poet, and was desirous of contributing 
 all in his power to its completeness. For that purpose he put 
 into my hands the lithographic dedication of " Sardanapalus " 
 to himself, and all the original papers which had passed be- 
 tween them. He permitted me to take these to my hotel, and 
 to do with them w^hat I pleased ; in other w^ords, I was to 
 copy them, and add such recollections as I was able to supply 
 of Goethe's remarks on Byron. These filled a very closely 
 written folio letter, which I despatched to England ; but Moore 
 afterwards assured me that he had never received it. 
 
 One or two of the following remarks w^ill be found as siguifi- 
 
108 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 cant as anything Goethe has written of Byron. It was a sat- 
 isfaction to me to find that Goethe preferred to all the other 
 serious poems of Byron the " Heaven and Earth," though 
 it seemed almost satire when he exclaimed, " A bishop 
 might have written it ! " He added, *^ Byron should have 
 lived to execute his vocation." — "And that was *? " I asked. 
 " To dramatize the Old Testament. What a subject under his 
 hands would the Tower of Babel have been ! " He continued : 
 " You must not take it ill ; but Byron w^as indebted for the pro- 
 found views he took of the Bible to the ennui he suffered from 
 it at school." Goethe, it will be remembered, in one of his 
 ironical epigrams, derives his poetry from ennui {Langeweile) ; 
 he greets her as the Mother of the Muses. It was with refer- 
 ence to the poems of the Old Testament that Goethe praised 
 the views which Byron took of Nature ; they were equally pro- 
 found and poetical. " He had not," Goethe said, " like me, de- 
 voted a long life to the study of Nature, and yet in all his 
 works I found but two or three passages I could have wished 
 to alter." 
 
 I had the courage to confess my inability to relish the serious 
 poems of Byron, and to intimate my dissatisfaction with the 
 comparison generally made between Manfred and Faust. I re- 
 marked : " Faust had nothing left but to sell his soul to the 
 Devil when he had exhausted all the resources of science in 
 vain ; but Manfred's was a poor reason, — his passion for 
 Astarte." He smiled, and said, " That is true." But then he 
 fell back on the indomitable spirit of Manfred. Even at the 
 last he was not conquered. Power in all its forms Goethe had 
 respect for. This he had in common with Carlyle. And the 
 impudence of Byron's satire he felt and enjoyed. I pointed 
 out " The Deformed Transformed," as being really an imita- 
 tion of " Faust," and was pleased to find that Goethe especially 
 praised this piece.* 
 
 I read to him the *' Vision of Judgment," explaining the 
 obscurer allusions. He enjoyed it as a child might, but his 
 criticisms scarcely went beyond the exclamations, " Too bad ! " 
 *' Heavenly ! " " Unsurpassable ! " He praised however, es- 
 pecially, the speeches of Wilkes and Junius, and the conceal- 
 ment of the countenance of the latter. " Byron has surpassed 
 himself" Goethe praised Stanza IX. for its clear description. 
 He repeated Stanza X., and emphatically the last two lines, 
 
 * Byron himself denies that "Faust" suggested "Manfred." See a note 
 in tho " Works," Voh IX. p. 71. 
 
1829.] TOUR IN GERMANY. ^^B 109 
 
 recollecting that he was himself eighty years of age. Stanza 
 XXIV. he declared to be sublime : — 
 
 " But bringing up the rear of this bright host, 
 
 A spirit of a different aspect waved 
 His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast 
 
 Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved; 
 His brow was like the deep when tempest-tossed; 
 
 Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved 
 Eternal wrath on his immortal face, 
 
 And where he gazed a gloom pervaded space." 
 
 Goethe concurred in my suggested praise of Stanzas XIII., 
 XIY., XV. Indeed Goethe was in this like Coleridge, that he 
 was by no means addicted to contradiction. This encourages 
 those who might not otherwise venture on obtruding a senti- 
 ment. He did not reject the preference I expressed for By- 
 ron's satirical poems, nor my suggestion that to " Don Juan " 
 a motto might have been taken from Mephistopheles' speech 
 aside to the student who asked his opinion of medicine : — 
 
 " Ich bin des trockenen Zeugs doch satt. 
 Ich will den dchienTeufel spielen." 
 
 Byron's verses on George IV., he said, were the sublime of 
 hatred. I took an opportunity to mention Milton, and found 
 Goethe unacquainted with " Samson Agonistes." I read to 
 him the first part, to the end of the scene with Delilah. He 
 fully conceived the spirit of it, though he did not praise Mil- 
 ton with the warmth with which he eulogized Byron, of whom 
 he said that *^ the like would never come again ; he was in- 
 imitable." Ariosto was not so daring as Byron in the '• Vision 
 of Judgment." 
 
 Goethe said Samson's confession of his guilt was in a better 
 spirit than anything in Byron. '' There is fine logic in all the 
 speeches." On my reading Delilah's vindication of herself, he 
 exclaimed : *' That is capital ; he has put her in the right.'' 
 To one of Samson's speeches he cried out, " the parson ! " 
 He thanked me for making him acquainted with this poem, and 
 said : " It gives me a higher opinion of Milton than I had be- 
 fore. It lets me more into the nature of his mind than any 
 other of his works." 
 
 I read to him Coleridge's " Fire, Famine, and Slaughter " ; 
 his praise was faint. I inquired whether he knew the name of 
 Lamb. ^' yes ! Did he not write a pretty sonnet on his 
 own name ] " Charles Lamb, though he always afiected con- 
 tempt for Goethe, yet was manifestly pleased that his name 
 was known to him. 
 
110 REiMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap 
 
 I informed Goethe of my possession of Wieland's bust by 
 Schadow.* He said : " It is like a lost child found. The 
 Duchess Amelia sent for Schadow to do it, and when done gave 
 it to Wieland. He died when the French were here, and we 
 were all away. Wieland's goods were sold by auction, and we 
 heard that the bust was bought by an Englishman. Vestigia 
 nulla retrorsumy I related to him how I had bought it at 
 the recommendation of Flaxman, who deemed it " a perfect 
 work." Goethe then said : " You must be sensible that it ought 
 to be here. A time will come when you can no longer enjoy it. 
 Take care that it comes here hereafter." This I promised. 
 And I have in my will given it to the Grand Duke, in trust, for 
 the public library at Weimar. Goethe expressed to me his 
 pleasure that I had retained so lively a recollection of Weimar at 
 its '' schone Zeit,''^ when Schiller, Herder, and Wieland all lived. 
 I remember no other mention of Herder, nor did I expect it. 
 Goethe spoke of Wieland as a man of genius, and of Schiller 
 with great regard. He said that Schiller's rendering of the 
 witch-scenes in " Macbeth " was " detestable.^ " But it was his 
 way ; you must let every man have his own character." This 
 was a tolerance characteristic of Goethe. 
 
 I have already mentioned Goethe's fondness for keeping por- 
 trait memorials, and can only consider it as an extreme in- 
 stance of this that I was desired to go to one Schmeller to 
 have my portrait taken, — a head in crayons, frightfully ugly, 
 and very like. The artist told me that he had within a few 
 years done for Goethe more than three himdred. It is the 
 kind of Ande7ihen he preferred. They are all done in the same 
 style, — full-face. I sat to Schmeller also for a portrait for 
 Knebel, — a profile, and much less offensive. 
 
 In this way I spent five evenings with Goethe. When he 
 took leave of me, it was very kindly, and he requested me to 
 write every three or four months, when I came to an interest- 
 ing place. But this I did not venture to do. I went up stairs 
 and looked over his rooms. They had little furniture, but 
 there were interesting engravings on the walls. His bed was 
 without curtains, — a mere couch. I saw much of his daugh- 
 ter-in-law ; he is said to have called her, "Bin verruclcter 
 Engel " (a crazy angel), and the epithet is felicitous. 
 
 Goethe, in his correspondence with Zelter, has filled a couple 
 of pages with an account of this visit. He speaks of me as a 
 sort of missionary on behalf of English poetry. He was not 
 
 » See Vol. I. p. 108. 
 
p 
 
 1829.] TOUR IN GERMANY. Ill 
 
 aware that I had not the courage to name the poet to whom I 
 was and am most attached, — Wordsworth ; for I knew that 
 there were too many dissonances of character between them. 
 As Southey remarked to me, ''How many sympathies, how 
 many dispathies do I feel with Goethe ! " * 
 
 [In 1832 Mr. S. Naylor, Jun., sent to Mr. Robinson the 
 following extract from a letter written by Frau von Goethe to 
 himself. This extract can have no place so suitable as 
 here : — ] 
 
 " If it be possible that the glowing forms of Italy have not 
 wholly obliterated in him the pale image of a Northern, tell 
 him (this him is Robinson) that we all look for him with long- 
 ing, and regard him as a literary missionary, who wiU bring 
 us the right articles of faith.'* 
 
 The day after my arrival at Weimar, I met the Chamber- 
 lain of the Duchess Dowager (the Court were away). He 
 said : " You must call. The Grand Duchess knows you are 
 
 * This correspondence of Goethe with Zelter continued to within a few 
 hours of Goethe's death. Indeed these oldest friends died within so short a 
 time of each other, that neither heard of tlie other's death. Goethe used to 
 give to Zelter an account of all that occurred to him in the way of gossip, 
 books, visits, &c., and in my visit to Heidelberg, in 1834, 1 met with the extract 
 which I now translate. It is'in the fifth volume of the " Correspondence." After 
 mentioning Mucewitz, the Polish poet, Goethe proceeds: *' At the same time 
 there was an Englishman with us, who had studied at Jena at the beginning of 
 the century, and who had since that time pursued German literature in a way of 
 which no one could form an idea. He was so truly initiated into the ground's of 
 merit in our situation, that if I had wished to do so, and as we are accustomed 
 to do towards foreigners, there was no casting a mist before his eyes. From 
 his conversation it resulted that, for twenty years and more, highly cultivated 
 Englishmen have been coming to Germany, and acquiring correct information 
 concerning the personal, aisthetical, and moral relations of those who may be 
 called our forefathers. Of Klopstock's ' Verkncicherung ' (Ossification) he re- 
 lated strange things. Then he seemed a kind of missionary of English litera- 
 ture, and read to me and my daughter, together and apart, single poems. By- 
 ron's ' Heaven and Earth ' it was very agreeable to become acquainted with 
 by the eye and ear at once, as I held a second copy in my hand. At last he 
 drew my attention to Milton's ' Samson Agonistes,' and read it with me. It is 
 to be remarked that in this we acquire a knowledge of a predecessor of Lord 
 Bja^on, who is as grand and comprehensive {yrandlos und ^imMchtig) as Byron 
 himself. But, to be sure, th3 successor is as vast and Avildly varied as the 
 other appears simple and stately.'' 
 
 In a later letter, speaking of Handel's " Samson," Goethe remarks, — I quote 
 from memory, — that a literary friend had, in the preceding summer, read 
 Milton's " Samson " to him, and tliat he never before met with so perfect an 
 imitation of the antique in style and spirit. 
 
 I have not the slightest recollection of having mentioned Klopstock at all, 
 and cannot think what he referred to. Voigt savs he never knew Goethe for- 
 get anything, so perfect was his memory to the hist, and that, therefore, I prob- 
 ably did speak about Klopstock. — H. C. R. 
 
112 KKMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 here. Go with me now." 1 objected, that I was not dressed. 
 '' That 's of no consequence. She will be sure not to see you." 
 And a message being sent, the Chamberlain was desired to in- 
 vite me to dinner. 1 was engaged w4th Goethe, but knew that 
 these invitations are commands. Next morning a like invita- 
 tion came, and again on Monday. On the last evening of my 
 stay at Weimar, wishing to accept an invitation to a party 
 elsewhere, I asked the Chamberlain how I could avoid being 
 invited by the Dowager. " You must ask the Grand Duchess 
 for leave to quit the country," he said. Such is Court etiquette ! 
 
 These three dinners do not supply much matter for these 
 Reminiscences. The Grand Duchess Louise, a Princess of Hes- 
 se-Darmstadt, was a woman highly and universally esteemed. 
 Of her interview^ with Napoleon, after the battle of Jena, I 
 have already given an account. She says my narrative * is 
 quite coiTect, and added one circumstance. Napoleon said to 
 her : " Madam, they will force me to declare myself Emperor 
 of the West." 
 
 I w^as received by her with great cordiality. She either rec- 
 ollected me, or affected to do so. She was above seventy, 
 looking old, and I thought remarkably like Otway Cave. The 
 conversation at table was unreserved and easy. One day there 
 was a popular festival in the town, — Vogel-Schiessen (bird- 
 shooting). Here the Grand Duchess attended, and it was the 
 etiquette for all who were known to her to stand near her till 
 she had seen and saluted them, and then each one retired. Kt 
 these dinners there was a uniform tone of dignified coiu:1:esy, and 
 I left her with an agreeable impression. Yet I could not but 
 feel low w^hen I recollected the change that had taken place 
 since 1804, when the Duchess Amelia, Graf Einsiedel, Fraulein 
 Geckhausen, and Wieland were present. My journal refers 
 to but one subject of conversation, — the marriage of the Duke 
 of St. Albans with Mrs. Coutts. That a duke should marry 
 an actress, who had preserved her character, was termed no- 
 ble at the Duchess's table. 
 
 August 19th. — This certainly belongs to the uninteresting 
 days of my journey. I was travelling through a dull country 
 in a close carriage with uninteresting people. But I had been 
 so much stimulated at Weimar, that the change was not alto- 
 gether unpleasant. I was glad to rest. Arrived at Leipzig 
 soon after five. Went to the theatre, where w^as played Schle- 
 gel's translation of " Julius Csesar." I saw it with pleasure, 
 
 * See Vol. I. pp. 391, 392. 
 
1829.] TOUR IN GERMANY. 113 
 
 though the actors appeared to me by no means good. Cassius 
 was grave, Brutus sentimental, Cgesar insignificant. But that 
 was not altogether the fanlt of the actor. Portia was petite. 
 I could recall the English in most of the scenes, and thought 
 the translation admirable. 
 
 Aiigiist 20th. — Beached Dresden towards evening, and fixed 
 myself for a few days at the Hotel de Berlin. During these 
 days I was frequently at the famous picture gallery, but, con- 
 scious of my want of knowledge in fine art, I shall merely say 
 that I paid my homage to the '^ Madonna di San Sisto," * which 
 still in my eyes retains its place as the finest picture in the 
 world. But for me the great attraction of Dresden was Lud- 
 wig Tieck, who was then among the German poets to Goethe 
 " proximus, longo sed proximus intervallo." Tieck and his wife 
 live in the same house with Grafinn Finkenstein, a lady of 
 fortune. I was received with not only great politeness, but 
 much cordiality. He recognized me at once. A large party 
 of ladies and gentlemen came to hear him read. He is famous 
 for his talent as a reader, and I was not surprised at it. His 
 voice is melodious, and without pretension or exaggeration he 
 gave great effect to what he read. 
 
 Next day I dined w^ith him. Herr von Stachelberg and 
 others were there. The conversation general and agreeable. 
 In politics we seemed pretty well agreed. All friends to Greece. 
 A triple alliance, between England, France, and x4ustria, 
 talked of. Thank God ! the governments are poor. Tieck 
 showed me his English books, and talked of Shakespeare. Not 
 only does he believe that the disputed plays are by him (most 
 certainly '' Lord Cromwell "), but even some others. He calls 
 Goethe's very great admiration of Byron an infatuation. The 
 " Hebrew Melodies " Tieck likes, but not " Manfred." In the 
 evening read with pleasure, in the Foreign Review, an article 
 on the German playwrights.f 
 
 August 2Sd. — At the Catholic Chapel from eleven tiU 
 twelve. The music delighted me beyond any I ever heard. At 
 six went to Tieck again, with whom I spent four hours most 
 agreeably. He read his prologue to Goethe's " Faust," which 
 is to be performed on Thursday, and also his translation of 
 " The Pinner of Wakefield." % It is a sort of dramatized ballad. 
 
 * See Vol. I p. 45. t By Carlyle. 
 
 t " A Pleasant Conceyted Comedie of George-a-Greene : The Pinner of 
 Wakefield." London, 1599. 4to. An anonymons play " sundry times acted 
 by the seruants of the Earl of Sussex." It has been atti'ibuted to John Hey- 
 wood and to Robert Greene. 
 
114 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 The Pinner is a loyal subject of King Edward, thrashes traitors 
 and everybody he meets with, and is a match for Robin Hood. 
 We had a deal of literary gossip. Tieck's literary opinions 
 seem to me for the most part true. He appreciates oar clas- 
 sics, Richardson and Fielding. But he likes even Smollett's 
 " Peregrine Pickle." He loves Sterne. Of Lamb he spoke 
 warmly. He expressed his great admiration of Goethe, but 
 freely criticised him. He thinks Goethe's way of turning into 
 poetry real incidents, memoirs, &c., has occasioned the compo- 
 sition of his worst pieces. 
 
 August 2 Jfth. — Another charming three hours with Tieck, 
 with whom I dined. I have made up my mind to stay till 
 after Thursday. I shall thus disturb my original plan ; but I 
 shall be a gainer on the whole. Tieck is, indeed, far from being 
 Goethe's equal, but I enjoy his company more. Accompanied 
 
 Bottiger to the Grafinn von der R , a sort of patroness, 
 
 aged seventy-five. The poet she patronized was Tiedge, author 
 of '^ Urania," a didactic poem.* He was more like Tieck in 
 name than in any other respect. The Countess is a character, 
 and honored me with a particular account of her infirmities. 
 She is, without doubt, a very estimable person, and I am glad 
 to have seen her. At seven I returned to Tieck, and heard him 
 read Holbein's capital play, " The Chattering Barber," to which 
 he gave full effect. He read also a little comedy, " The 
 Pfalzgraf." 
 
 August 25th. — Preparing for my departure. Had no time 
 for sight-seeing, but in the evening heard Tieck read " Richard 
 II." Felt low at leaving the place. The trouble of getting 
 off^, the apprehended solitude, annoyances at the custom-house, 
 search of books, &c., all trouble me. 
 
 August 26th, — A family dinner-party at Tieck's. Returned 
 early to my room, where I read a most delightful Novelle by 
 him: ^^ The 15th November." On that day a dike burst in 
 Holland, and a family were saved by a sort of idiot, who, 
 having suddenly lost all his faculties, except that of ship- 
 building, built a ship from a kind of miraculous presentiment. 
 Nothing can exceed the beauty of the representation, however 
 improbable the story may be. W. Schlegel has said that the 
 only four perfect narrators he knows are Boccaccio, Cervantes, 
 Goethe, and Tieck. I returned to Tieck's at six. A large 
 party were assembled to hear him read the " Midsummer 
 
 * Christopher Augustus Tiedge. Born 1752. Died 1841. 
 
1829.] ^^" TOUR IN GERMANY. 115 
 
 Night's Dream," which he did delightfully. I prefer his comic 
 reading to his tragic. 
 
 August 27th, — This day terminated what I consider my 
 preliminary German journey. Dined with Tieck ; the family 
 all alone. A very interesting evening. *' Faust" was per- 
 formed for the first time in Germany, in honor of Goethe's 
 birthday. To-morrow, the 28th, he will be eighty years old. 
 I greatly enjoyed the performance. The prologue, by Tieck, 
 was a beautiful eulogy on Goethe. The house was crowded. 
 Faust was played by Devrient. He looked the philosopher 
 well, and his rich and melodious voice was very effective ; but 
 he pleased me less w^hen he became the gallant seducer. Pauli 
 was Mephistopheles. He was too passionate occasionally, and 
 
 neither looked nor talked enough like the D . The scene 
 
 with the student was very well got up. In general, however, 
 the wise sayings were less heeded than the spectacle. The 
 Blocksberg afforded a grand pantomime. Margaret was ren- 
 dered deeply affecting by Mademoiselle Gleig. After the play, 
 I found at the poet's house a number of friends, congTatulating 
 him on the success of the evening's undertaking. Like per- 
 formances took place in many of the larger towns of Germany 
 in honor of the great poet. 
 
 On the 28th of August I set out on my Italian tour. I 
 passed through Teplitz and Carlsbad (Goethe's favorite resort) 
 to Ratisbon. At Carlsbad, I ventured to introduce myself to 
 the not-yet-forgotten famous metaphysician, Schelling. I had 
 been a pupil of his, but an insignificant one, and never a par- 
 tisan. I believe he did not recollect me. He talked with 
 some constraint during our walk in the Wandelbahn, but 
 meeting him afterwards at dinner, I found him communicative, 
 and were I remaining at Carlsbad, his company would be very 
 pleasant to me. The most agreeable part of his conversation 
 was that which showed me I w^as wrong in supposing him to 
 have become a Koman Catholic. On the contrary, he spoke 
 in a tone of seeming disappointment both of Schlegel and Tieck 
 for their change. He spoke of the King of Bavaria as a benev- 
 olent, liberally inclined, and wise sovereign. Far from being, 
 as it was once feared he might be, the tool of the Jesuitical 
 party, he is aware how dangerous that party is. He is, 
 nevertheless, religious, and all his ministers are Roman 
 Catholics ; not because they are Catholics, but because hi^ 
 Protestant States do not supply the fitting men. The Minister 
 of the Interior is a convert, but he has brought to the ministry 
 
116 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 7. 
 
 the liberal notions of his Protestant education. Though taking 
 more interest in public matters than Goethe, Schelling yet said 
 Goethe was right in disregarding politics, conscious, as he must 
 be, that the composition of one of his great works would be a 
 blessing for ages, while the political state of Germany might 
 be. but of short duration. Schelling regards Tieck as hardly 
 an appreciator of Goethe. He spoke of Uhland and Graf 
 Platen, author of the Verhdngnissvolle Gahel, and other 
 satirical works, as the best of the new generation of poets. I 
 shunned philosophy, but remarked that England showed no 
 inclination to receive the German philosophers. He answered 
 that at present nothing had appeared suitable for translation. 
 He spoke of Coleridge and Carlyle as men of talent, who are 
 acquainted with German philosophy. He says Carlyle is cer- 
 tainly the author of the articles in the Edinburgh Review, 
 
 At Ratisbon, I embarked on the Danube for Vienna, passing 
 those fine towns, Passau and Linz. Vienna had little to attract 
 me. I had a letter of introduction to the celebrated preacher 
 Veit, a Jesuit, whose sermons had produced a gi-eat effect upon 
 the Vienna populace. I called on him at the monastery, a sort 
 of public school, of which he was the head. He had the appear- 
 ance more of a man of the world than of an enthusiast, and his 
 language was perfectly liberal. He said : '* I believe firmly in 
 all the doctrines of the Church. The Church never errs, but 
 Churchmen do err. And all attempt to compel men by violence 
 to enter the Church is contrary to the Gospel." His main ob- 
 jection to the Protestants is their ascetic habits. He spoke q£ 
 Pascal as a pietist, using that word in an unfavorable sense. He 
 declared himself an anti-ultramontanist, and assented to a re- 
 mark of mine, that an enlightened Romanist in Germany is 
 nearer to a pious Protestant than to a doctor of Salamanca. 
 Veit wishes to travel, and to learn English. It would, he says, 
 be worth while to learn English if only for the sake of reading 
 Shakespeare. This interview was less remarkable than the 
 sermon I heard him preach in the crowded church of the 
 Rigoristen (the order of which he is the head). His manner is 
 singular. He half shuts his eyes, and with little action speaks 
 in a familiar style, in a tone of mixed earnestness and humor. 
 The discourse was quite moral, and very efficient. Its subject, 
 Pharisaic pride. The style was occasionally vehement. He 
 introduced the story of the Lord of a manor going in a plain 
 dress to the Hall on a rent-day, when his steward was feasting 
 the tenants. He slipped in unperceived, and was jostled by 
 
1829.] 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 117 
 
 the greedy company to the bottom of the table. When the 
 steward saw him, he saluted him with reverence, and re- 
 proached the people with their ignorance. Then the preacher, 
 changing his tone, exclaimed : " Ihr set die ivahren Krdhwinkler " 
 (Ye are the real Gothamites) ; and producing a huge crucifix 
 from the bottom of the pulpit, he cried out in a screaming 
 voice, " Here 's your God, and you don't know him ! " The 
 manifest want of logic in the application of the tale did not 
 prevent its having effect. Every one seemed touched, for it 
 was the upstart pride of the citizens he managed to attack. 
 He brought Huntington to my recollection, but wanted his 
 perfect style. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 FROM Vienna I proceeded, through Styria and Carniola, to 
 Trieste, and after a digression to Fiume, to visit my old 
 friend Grafton Smith, entered Italy at Venice, the rich, but / 
 say the romantic. I had but a sort of feverish pleasure there, 
 and have no wish to go again. And yet the St. Mark's Place, 
 and the Duomo, built with barbaric pomp, the ducal palace, and 
 the Rialto, and the canals, and Palladio's churches, are worth a 
 pilgrimage, and I am almost ashamed of w^hat 1 have written. 
 But I could not help thinking of the odious governments. I 
 must here translate one of Goethe's Venetian epigrams : " La- 
 boriously wanders the pilgrim, and will he find the saint '? Will 
 he see and hear the man who wrought the miracles % No ! Time 
 has taken him away, and all that belongs to him. Only his skull 
 and a few of his bones are preserved. Pilgrims are w^e, — we 
 w^ho visit Italy. It is only a scattered bone which we honor 
 with faith and joy." This is perfect as to thought ; the magic 
 of the verse I cannot give. 
 
 On the 17th of Novemher I entered Rome. 
 
 [In the following account of Mr. Robinson's stay in Rome and 
 elsewhere, the extracts will have especial regard to what is of 
 personal interest, and will not include even a mention of all the 
 places visited by him. It was in connection with this journey 
 that he wTote to Miss Wordsworth : " That thing called one's 
 self loses much of itself when travelling, for it becomes a mere * 
 
118 REMINISCENCKS OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chai-. 8. 
 
 thing with two eyes and two ears, and has no more individual- 
 ity than a looking-glass." And Mr. Robinson says in a letter 
 to his brother, December 1 7th, of this year : '^ I never was more 
 busy in my life. I have Rome as well as Italian to learn. Every 
 fine day I visit one or more of the curiosities of this wonderful 
 city. It is itself a little world, and comprehends within its walls 
 a greater number of objects of high interest — either historical 
 memorials or works of fine art — than I have ever seen in all 
 my former journeys put together. But do not imagine that I 
 am going to give you an account of what there is to be seen in 
 Rome, — the subject is so immense. I will, however, give you 
 some account of what occurs to me there."] 
 
 On the 20th I went in search of a few acquaintances whom I 
 expected to meet. I found a very obliging friend in the Wur- 
 temberg minister, Kolle, whom I first saw at Nicolai's in 
 Berlin ; I owe him a great deal. On calling upon Alexander 
 Torlonia, to whom I had shown attentions in England, I found 
 he had either forgotten me or affected to do so.* I took an 
 opportunity, a few days after, to say to his half-brother : "I 
 am delighted to find that my memory is better than I feared, 
 — at least it is better than your brother Alexander's. We 
 w^ere a week together, and I recollected him in an instant ; 
 but although he is the younger man he cannot recollect me." 
 I believe I was understood. 
 
 November 2Jftli, — Carried Mrs. Benecke's letter of hitroduc- 
 tion to one of the most amiable of men, Kastner, the Hanove- 
 rian Minister to the Court of Rome. And as our Engh'sh 
 bigotry did not permit us to have a Minister, he supplied the 
 office of master of the ceremonies to all the English. He was 
 a man of taste, and most kind in his behavior, — not at all 
 a politician. He was considered to have an undignified manner, 
 but was loved by every one. He was fond of talking Eno-- 
 lish, and his English was very amusing, though the tales told 
 of him in this respect were possibly apocryphal. It w^as said, 
 for instance, that he declared he had taken a young lady un- 
 der his protection because she was so dissolute and ahandoned. 
 He made for me a selection of plaster casts of antique gems, 
 of which I am proud. He was Evangelical in his religious 
 views, and partook of Benecke's opinions of Goethe. But virtu 
 was more his pursuit than politics or speculation of any kind. 
 
 November 25th. — When I passed through Florence I was 
 
 * This was the young Italian whom, with liis tutor, Mr. Robinson introduced 
 to the Wordsworths in 1816. See Vol. I. p. 18. 
 
1829.] ITALY. 119 
 
 told by a stranger that he had been traveUing with Miss Bar- 
 ney, a younger sister of Madame d'Arblay : he gave a promis- 
 ing account of her, and I begged him to introduce me. On 
 my telhng her of being well acquainted with her brother, the 
 admiral, my vanity was a little hurt by finding that she had 
 never heard of me. She informed me that she had set out on 
 this journey with a female friend, who had deserted her at 
 Dover, not daring to cross the water in rough weather. " I 
 could not," said Miss Burney, " afford to lose the money I had 
 paid for my journey (board included) all the way to Milan. 
 So I ventured alone, without servant or acquaintance. My 
 travelling companions were all respectable, and I shall soon be 
 at Kome." I said we should be sure to meet there, and offered 
 her my services when we should meet again, which she ac- 
 cepted at once. I had not forgotten her, when to-day on com- 
 ing home I found upon my table a letter from Ayrton to me, 
 introducing Miss Burney. *• Who brought this '? " said I to 
 our landlord. " The lady." — " What lady ] " — " The lady 
 who is occupying the rooms below." — " Is she at home 1 " — 
 " Yes." I went down, and was received by her with a hearty 
 laugh. She told me that, bringing many letters from England, 
 she had separated them into bundles, and not opened those 
 addressed to Rome until now. Our irregular introduction to 
 each other was now legalized, and we became well acquainted, 
 as will appear hereafter. Our acquaintance ripened into 
 friendship, which did not end but with her life. She was a 
 very amiable person, of whom I think with great respect. She 
 at once confessed that she was obliged to be economical, and I 
 made an arrangement for her which reduced her expenses con- 
 siderably. I had before this time found that the German 
 artists dined at a respectable, but cheap restaurant in the Corso, 
 and I occasionally saw ladies there, — Italian, not English. 
 There were several rooms, one of them small, with a single 
 table, which our party could nearly fill. This I frequently 
 engaged, and I introduced Miss Burney to our party. She 
 became our 'pet^ and generally dined with us. When I was 
 engaged elsewhere, there were several proud to take her. Our 
 party had increased. Mrs. Payne had given me a letter of in- 
 troduction to Mr. Finch, — a character, — and to-day my old 
 friend KoUe offered to introduce me to him. Mr. Finch was 
 married to a lady who at once claimed me for an acquaintance. 
 She was a Miss Thompson, who used to attend the Attic Chest, 
 meetings at Porden's.* She had two sisters residing with 
 
 * See Vol. I. p. 376. 
 
120 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 her, as well as a nephew, a young M. D., — Dr. Seth Thomp- 
 son. 
 
 This same day was rendered further remarkable by an in- 
 troduction, through the Chevalier Kastner, to one who has a 
 European reputation, and whose acquaintance I still enjoy. 
 This was the Chevalier Bunsen, a man of whom I do not think 
 it becomes me to say more than what appertains to my per- 
 sonal intercourse wdth him. I was not at first aware of his 
 eminent qualities. My journal describes him as ^'a fair, 
 smooth-faced, thickset man, who talks, though he does, not 
 look, like a man of talents." He was in the habit of receiving, 
 once a week, at his house, his German friends, and on another 
 day his English friends, his w^ife being an English lady, — a 
 Miss Waddington. Chevalier Bunsen very courteously said to 
 me, " I consider you both German and English, and shall ex- 
 pect you both days," — a privilege I did not hesitate to avail 
 myself of. Whatever my fears might be of feeling alone at 
 Rome, I felt myself, in a week, not encumbered, but full of 
 acquaintance. 
 
 On the 30th I was introduced to Thorwaldsen in his studio, 
 and conceived a higher opinion of him as an artist than of Ca- 
 nova. I heard him give an account of some of his works, espe- 
 cially the scheme of a series of colossal figures, for which a church 
 has been since built at Copenhagen, — the objection raised by 
 some of the bishops that they tend to idolatry being overcome. 
 Before the portico and in the pediment were to be placed, and 
 probably now are, St. John the Baptist, and the various classes 
 of the human race receiving instruction ; in the vestibules, the 
 sibyls and prophets ; in the nave, the apostles ; Christ before 
 the head altar. Many of these I possess in engravings, as I do 
 casts in miniature of the triumphs of Alexander. What I have 
 to say personally of Thorwaldsen I shall say hereafter. 
 
 On this day I first saw Eastlake, now the President of our 
 Royal Academy, and Gibson, the sculptor. At this time Rome 
 was my study as no other place could ever be. I read wh^rt I 
 could get, — Forsyth, one of the few books which is a voice, not 
 an echo, the style proving the originality ; and " Rome in the 
 Nineteenth Century," a pert, flippant book, the only claim to 
 originality being that, in a commonplace way, it opposes com- 
 mon notions ; but being written smartly, and with great labor, 
 it has a certain popularity. 
 
 December 6th. — A stroll in the Isola Tiberina. How filthy 
 a spot ; yet how magnificent a plate it has supplied to Piranesi ! 
 
I^^^Hr ITALY. ^^^^^H 121 
 
 " Sir," said a king's messenger to me one day, " don't believe 
 what travellers tell about Eome. It is all a humbug. Rome 
 is more like Wapping than any place I know." — " That man is 
 no fool," said Flaxman, who laughed on my repeating this. " Of 
 course he could not understand, perhaps he did not see, the an- 
 tiquities ; but some of the finest are in places that resemble 
 Wapping in general appearance." 
 
 On the 7th I first saw the marbles of the Capitol. The most 
 noticeable part is the gallery of busts, arranged in classes. That 
 of the philosophers afforded a trial of skill to Miss Bumey and 
 myself in guessing. '' In general," says my journal, *^ each head 
 seemed worthy of its name," but not one Plato among many 
 there satisfied me. Had I taken my philosophy from the head 
 of any master, I must have been an Epicurean. Democritus is 
 really grinning ;^ I took him for a slave. Cicero and Demos- 
 thenes express passion rather than thought. Cicero, however, 
 reminded me of Goethe. The same day I saw Guido's " Aurora," 
 the first picture that made me heartily love fresco painting. We 
 went also to the Barberini Palace. Here are the ^' Andrea Cor- 
 sini," by Guido, and a " Fornarina " by Raphael, offensive to me 
 in spite of myself ; and the far-famed Cenci. KoUe, a dogmatist 
 in art, declared it to be neither a Cenci nor a Guido. Without 
 its name, he said, it- would not fetch ^10. In defiance of my 
 monitor, I could not but imagine it to be painfully expressive 
 of sweetness and innocence. What did Shelley hold the picture 
 to be w^hen he wrote his tragedy ] 
 
 December 10th, — Ascended the tower of the Capitol. That 
 would be enough for any one day. A panoramic view, — ancient 
 Rome on one side, and modern Rome on the other. The same 
 evening I had another glorious view, from the top of the Coli- 
 seum, by moonlight. Afterwards a party at Lord Northampton's. 
 Having had a lesson in the forenoon from Cola, and seen the 
 Palazzo Doria, my journal notes this as a day of an unparalleled 
 variety of enjoyment, and with reason. 
 
 December 15th, — Mr. Finch related anecdotes of Dr. Parr. 
 At a party at Charles Burney's, being called on to name a 
 toast, he gave the thii^d Greek scholar in Europe. Being called 
 on to explain who this might be, he said : " Our excellent host. 
 The first Greek scholar is my friend here " (indicating Porson). 
 " Don't blusli, Dicky. The second, modesty does not permit me 
 to name." Now and then Parr's rudeness was checked. Asking 
 a lady what she thought of his Spital sermon, she answered : 
 " My opinion is expressed in the first five words of the sermon 
 
 VOL. II. 6 
 
122 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 itself, * Enough, and more than enough.' " He was out of humor 
 for the rest of the evening. 
 
 At the close of the year 1 wrote in my journal : ** The old year 
 is dying away with enviable repose. I do not know when I have 
 spent a more quiet New Year's eve, as I do not recollect when 
 I have passed a year of more intense and varied personal enjoy- 
 ment. But it has brought a great calamity into my brotlier's 
 house, — the loss of my nephew's only child, Caroline. She 
 died from the effects of an attack of scarlet fever. She was 
 one of the most fascinating creatures I ever saw, and was 
 doated on both by parents and grandfather." The sentiment 
 expressed in those few sentences is associated with a religious 
 service in the church of Gesu in the evening. Whether owing 
 to the music itself, aided by the edifice, or to the power of the 
 Italian voice, I know not, but the choir seemed to me to express 
 an earnest, not a merely formal, service. 
 
 1830. 
 
 I may say in general of the winter season I passed in Rome, 
 that my days were divided between the not discordant occupa- 
 tions of studying the topography of the city, with Nibbi in 
 hand, and the language of Italy, with the aid of Dr. Cola ; and 
 that my evenings were seldom disengaged. The parties of the 
 Prussian Minister and of Lord Northampton were of weekly 
 occurrence ; occasional dinners and frequent evening gatherings 
 at the houses of other friends prevented my time from ever 
 hanging heavily. 
 
 January 7th, — This evening, at Bunsen's, I was struck by 
 the appearance of a tall man with lank hair and sallow cheeks. 
 I pointed him out to a German as the specimen of an English 
 Methodist. He laughed, and exclaimed : *' Why, that is the 
 Roman Catholic convert, Overbeck, — a rigid ascetic and mel- 
 ancholy devotee." Ranch, the great Prussian sculptor, was 
 also there. I chatted with him, but have no recollection of his 
 person. 
 
 January 22d, — Westphal, a German scholar, whom I met 
 at Lord Nortliampton's parties, took me to a very interesting 
 spot, which all Germans of taste should hold sacred, — the 
 Kneipe, or pot-house, in which Goethe made those assignations 
 which are so marvellously described in his Roman Elegies. The 
 spot in which I ate and drank was one of the vaults in the Thea- 
 tre of Marcellus ; the stone wall was black with the smoke of 
 
1830.] ITALY. 123 
 
 centuries, and a wooden table and wooden benches formed all 
 the furniture of the den. The contrast between such a Spe- 
 lunca — Goethe's own appellation — and the refined taste 
 which could there conceive and give form to creations which 
 will be the delight of cultivated minds in all ages, was to me a 
 lesson of humanity. The German artists ought here to place 
 an inscription, which, though unintelligible to the many, would 
 be most instructive to the few ; — a new lesson, certainly, in 
 archaeology, but in conformity with the lesson taught b}^ Nie- 
 buhr and his followers, who delight to have that which is in 
 common in ancient and modern institutions. There might be 
 a reference to the Elegy in which Amor trims the lamp, and 
 thinks of the time when he rendered the same service to his 
 triumvirs : — 
 
 " Amor schiiret die Lamp'indess und denket der Zeiten, 
 Da er den namlichen Dienst seinen Triumvirn gethan." 
 
 February 2d, — At Finch's. He repeated a retort uttered 
 in his (Finch's) house by Lord Byron. Ward had been a 
 Whig, and became Ministerial. ^' I wonder what could make 
 me turn Whig again," said Ward. " That I can tell you," 
 said Byron. '' They have only to re-Ward you." 
 
 February 21st. — At one of the most remarkable dinners I 
 ever partook of. It was at Prince Gargarin's, the Russian 
 Minister. But it was the eye, not the palate, that was pe- 
 culiarly gratified. The apartments were splendid, and the 
 dining-hall illuminated by eighty-nine wax lights. The pecu- 
 liarity of the dinner lay in this, — that there was nothing on 
 the table on which tjie eye of the gourmand could rest. In the 
 centre of the long table (the guests being twenty-six in num- 
 ber) were a succession of magnificent plateaux, beautiful fig- 
 ures of nymphs in chased gold, urns, vases of flowers, decanters 
 in rich stands, with sweetmeats in little golden plates, &c., <fec. 
 A servant between each couple. At every instant was your 
 servant whispering in your ear tho name of some imknown 
 dish. There was no harm in taking a dish at a venture, for 
 the moment you paused your plate was whisked away, and 
 another instantly ofi'ered. There was great variety, and every- 
 thing was of first-rate excellence. So of the wines. I named 
 my own bottle, and drank of it in a large tumbler, every kind 
 of rich wine being oftered at the proper time. I sat between 
 two Russian Princesses, with whom it was my severe task to 
 keep up a conversation. The company consisted chiefly of 
 Russian subjects, and I was the only Englishman there. Many 
 
124 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 of the former had names " which nobody can read and nobody 
 can spell." A few beautiful women were there, including the 
 belle of the season. 
 
 February 23d, — This was the last day of the Carnival, 
 which began on the 10th. I was pelted from the balcony of a 
 Palazzo, and looking up to discover my assailant, recognized 
 Mrs. Finch, who beckoned to me to join her. I did so, and 
 took a note of passing objects, not expecting to rival Goethe 
 in so doing. Here they are, — the produce of a few^ minutes. 
 A fellow with a wig of paper shavings ; another all paper, save 
 his old hat, which had candles, soon to be lighted ; a rich 
 devil, with crimson tail ; a Turkish coachman ; lawyers with 
 paper frills and collars ; a conjurer ; a bear ; a man covered with 
 bells ; a postilion with a huge whip ; several carrying men pick- 
 aback, one with a machine, which on a jerk opens like a ladder, 
 and, rising to the first floor, conveys flowers to the ladies. The 
 race was poor. I noticed balls with spikes, which, hanging on 
 the necks of the wretched horses, must have inflicted the more 
 torture the faster they ran. The fun peculiar to the close of the 
 Carnival was the blowing out of each other's lights, with the 
 cry of " Smoccolo.^^ With exemplary obedience, at a given 
 signal, the Carnival ends, and the crowds disperse. At eleven 
 the Theatre was closed, that the festivity should not encroach 
 on the sacred day that followed, — Ash Wednesday. 
 
 March 16th. — We reached Naples, and, as at Venice, found 
 high enjoyment on our first arrival. A walk along the noble 
 street, the Toledo, passing the Royal Palace. A view of the 
 bay from Santa Lucia, — that bay which surpasses every other 
 bay in the world, as all travellers agree, — not as a bay simply, 
 but including its matchless islands and unique Vesuvius. Then 
 the line of palaces, the Chiaja, more than a mile long, fronting 
 the bay. To pass away the evening, after the excitement of 
 seeing all this for the first time, we went to a popular theatre. 
 
 March 18th, — As Rome is beyond all doubt incomparably 
 the most memorable place I ever saw, no other rivalling it in 
 my imagination, so is Naples decidedly the second. And the 
 effect of going to the one after the other is heightened by con- 
 trast. Rome is the city of tombs, of solemn and heroic recol- 
 lections, in which everything reminds you of the past to the 
 disadvantage of the present, and altogether as little sensual 
 and epicurean as can be in its essential character. Naples, on 
 the contrary, is the seat of voluptuous enjoyment, — as Words- 
 worth happily designated it, " Soft Parthenope.^ The afflu- 
 
1830.] ITALY. 125 
 
 ent seem to have nothing to do but saunter about, sip ices, 
 and be gallant. I have seen it but for a short time compara- 
 tively, and would gladly in my old age visit it again. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Collier. 
 
 Florence, 30th July, 1830. 
 
 .... I reached Naples on the 1 7th of March. It has not 
 quite put Eome's nose out of joint, and that is all I can say. 
 So astonishing and so delicious a spot (a broad one though, for 
 it includes the environs and almost excludes the city) certainly 
 nowhere else exists. Vedi Najpoli e muori^ they say. They 
 are right. But I would recommend everybody, before he dies, 
 just to make the circuit of Sicily. And, on second thoughts, 
 it may be as well to come to England, and rave about this 
 pay-adisiacal hell, for seven years before he dies the death of a 
 philosophic hero, by throwing himself into the crater of Ve- 
 suvius. I have told you before to read Forsyth, and it is only 
 in the faith that you will obey me, that I in mercy spare you 
 an enumeration of all the wonders of my last journey. I mere- 
 ly say that from my bed, without changing my position, I 
 could see the lurid light fi'om the burning mountain, — that I 
 made the usual excursions to the Phlegrsean fields, saw the pas- 
 sage into hell through which ^Eneas went, and even beheld 
 Acheron itself and the Elysian fields. To be sure, that same 
 Virgil did bounce most shamefully. Would you believe if? 
 The lake of Avernus is a round muddy pond, and the abode - 
 of the blessed looks not a bit better than a hop-garden. So 
 Cumse, and Baiae, and Ischia, and Capua are all like gentlemen's 
 seats, with none but servants kept there to show them to visit- 
 ors. Vesuvius is but an upstart of yesterday. All Naples 
 and the country around betray the fire that is burning beneath. 
 Every now and then a little shake of the earth reminds the 
 people of their peril. Peril did I say ] — there is none. St. 
 Januarius is a sufficient protection. 
 
 To Mrs. Masqiierier H. C. R. writes : " I have made an ex- 
 cursion through Salerno to Paestum, including the finest water 
 excursion to Amalfi. I thought of Masquerier all day. Such 
 rocks, — such temples, — such ruffians ! I believe, after all, 
 the ruffians would have delighted him most, that is, provided 
 he could have found means to draw them without having his 
 throat cut while at the work. Such wretches for us common 
 
126 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBE^SON. [Chap, a 
 
 people, — • such glorious creatures for you artists ! I have trav- 
 ersed Pompeii. I have ascended Vesuvius." 
 
 In a letter to his brother, H. C. R. says : " Many a volume 
 has been written about this disinterred town (Pompeii). It 
 was buried by a shower of dust, and therefore without diffi- 
 culty is being brought to light. The most striking circum- 
 stance is the small size of the buildings. They are like baby 
 houses. But very interesting indeed is the detail of a Roman 
 house. The very ovens in the kitchens, — the meanest of 
 conveniences, — the whole economy of domestic life, — baths, 
 temples, forums, courts of justice, everything appertaining to a 
 town of small size and rank. Not furniture only, but also 
 food contained in metallic and wooden vessels. There are 
 also fresco paintings, curious rather than beautiful. My last 
 excursion was to Vesuvius. More than half a century ago you 
 read about this in the ' Curiosities of Art and Nature,' one of 
 mi/ books. In spite of the exaggerations of school-boy fancy, 
 the excursion surpassed my expectations. The picturesque line 
 round the rim of the outer crater, with the fine sunset views 
 on all sides, and, when night drew on, the rivulets of fire which 
 gradually brightened, or rather the vein-like currents which 
 diversified the broad surface, and the occasional eruptions from 
 the cone round the inner crater, all delighted me." 
 
 I followed the custom of the country in going to the opera 
 at the San Carlo Theatre, probably the noblest in the world. 
 The Scala, at Milan, alone produced the like effect on me. This 
 theatre at Naples is so placed that, on occasion when the back 
 is open, Vesuvius may be seen from the royal box in front. 
 When this mountain is the background to the dancing of the 
 Neapolitan peasants, the scene is incomparable, — save by a 
 scene which I shall soon mention, and from which, perhaps, the 
 idea in the present instance was taken. 
 
 Before leaving Naples, I must mention briefly the sight to 
 be generally beheld on the space before the sea, called the Molo, 
 where the Lazzaroni are fond of assembling. Here may often 
 be seen a half-naked fellow, who spouts or reads verses from a 
 MS. of unimaginable filth, and all in tatters. It is Tasso. 
 There is, I understand, a Tasso in the Neapolitan dialect. Or 
 it may be some other popular poet, to which an audience of 
 the lowest of the people is listening gravely. And I do not 
 recollect having ever heard a laugh which would imply there 
 was anything by which a well-bred man would be offended. 
 Goethe has eloquently defended the Lazzaroni, and even eulo- 
 
 ^1 
 
1830.] ITALY. 127 
 
 gized them for their industrious habits ; which is by no means 
 the irony one might imagine. Certainly, I saw nothing to 
 make me think ill of the Lazzaroni. If offended they are 
 ferocious, but they are affectionate, and are said to be honest 
 to an exemplary degi*ee. They will be praised for their piety 
 or derided for their superstition by men who would not differ 
 as to the facts they so variously designate. I know not whether 
 the extreme poor of London, and, indeed, of any part of Eng- 
 land, all things considered, are not more to be pitied. I say 
 this of the extreme poor ; and out of this extremity of poverty 
 it is somewhat less difficult for the Englishman than the 
 Neapolitan to make his escape. The Neapolitan professor 
 of poetry receives from his pupils their honoraria in farthings. 
 An arrangement had been made that Richmond * and I 
 should accompany Von Sacken and Westphal to Sicily, on 
 their way to Greece ; and on the 6th of April we set out on 
 our journey to Sicily, which ought to be the finale, as it would 
 be the crown and completion of every Italian tour. 
 
 H. C. R. TO W. Pattisson and Sons. 
 
 Florence, Jnly IV, 1830. 
 
 My dear Friends, — Many thanks for your very kind and 
 most acceptable joint and several letter. I must place you at 
 the very head of my correspondents for promptitude in reply 
 and for variety of information 
 
 I had a delightful tour in Sicily. Go, run for the map, or 
 you won't understand me. There, you see the northern coast, 
 between Palermo and Messina. Here are all the magnifi- 
 cent scenes of this most glorious island. Palermo unites every 
 charm which mere nature can give. The f\YQ days' journey 
 a-muleback to Messina is over mountains, sea-shore, and valleys, 
 of which the perfume is so strong that a lady with weak nerves 
 would be oppressed. After two days at Messina, we proceeded 
 to Taormina. What think you of a theatre so built that, the 
 back scenes opening, the spectators could see Mount Etna ! 
 This real fire is better than the real water at Sadler's Wells. 
 Then to Catania, built amid masses of black lava. Etna I did 
 not dare ascend. Richmond went, and was rewarded with 
 noble views. Then to Syracuse, — an awful place. This city 
 of two millions of men is shrunk into a mean town on a tongue 
 of land. Not a spot worth seeing by the bodily eye, but to 
 
 ♦ An American clergyman, with whom H. C. R. h^d fallen in by the way 
 
128 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 the eye of memory how glorious ! I was taken to a dirty 
 cistern ; seventy women were washing, with theu' clothes tucked 
 up, and themselves standing in a pool, — a disgusting scene. 
 " What do you bring me here for ] " — '* Why, sir, this is the 
 Fountain of Arethusa " ! ! ! those rascally poets, again say 
 I. Plato did right to banish the liars from his republic. The 
 day before I was in good-humor with them, for I saw the very 
 rock that the Cyclop hurled at Ulysses. To be sure, the cave 
 is not there now ; but nHmporte. I saw the ear of Dionysius, 
 — a silly story of modern invention ,• but it is the finest quarry 
 in the world. Continuing my ride, I came in four days to Gir- 
 genti. I must refer you to some book of travels ; enough for 
 me to say that, having one day seen these miracles of art with 
 a guide, Eichmond and I separated on the next, and each alone 
 spent two hours under the pillars of these Grecian temples, at 
 least three thousand years old. In front, the sea ; behind, a 
 rich valley under mountains. This city had fourteen temples. 
 The ruins of two are mere rubbish, but colossal ; those of two 
 others consist of the columns entire. Then we went on to 
 Selinunte. Here lie sixty columns on the ground, like so many 
 sheaves of corn left by the reaper : an earthquake threw them 
 down. And then I saw Segeste, a temple in a wilderness. -Not 
 a living thing did we see but wild-fowl. Then we went to 
 Alcamo (having omitted to go to Trapani and Marsala, which 
 are not worth seeing). You may serve a friend by giving him 
 this account. We were thirteen days in riding over somewhat 
 more than four hundred miles ; and we rested seven days on the 
 way. I was, besides, a week at Palermo. All the stories about 
 banditti are sheer fable, when asserted of the present times ; 
 and, except on the north coast, the accommodations are good. 
 
 May 20th. — (Rome.) I went to my old apartments in the 
 Piazza di Spagna : little as I liked Brunetti, I preferred to 
 bear " the ills I had, than fly to others that I knew not of." 
 From the Thompsons I heard an anecdote too rich and charac- 
 teristic to be lost. Mr. Severn * had sent to the late Exhibi- 
 tion a painting of Ariel on a bat's back, — *^ On a bat's back I 
 do fly,'' — and had put over the head of Ariel a peacock's 
 feather. It was rejected ; first, it was said, for its indecency. 
 At length the cause was confessed ; Cardinal Albani, the Sec- 
 retary of State, had discovered in it a satire on the Romish 
 Church. He interpreted the picture to represent an Angel 
 
 ■ ■-- * Th« friend and biogi'apher of Keats. 
 
U80.] ITALY. . 129 
 
 astride over the Devil, but perceived in the peacock's feather 
 the emblem of Papal vanity. 
 
 May 29th. — An interesting talk with Bunsen about the 
 embarrassments of the Prussian government, pressed as it is 
 between the extreme liberality of Gesenius and Wegscheider, 
 at Halle, and the intolerance of those who support the estab- 
 lished religion, such as Gerlich, whom, however, Neander, 
 though orthodox, does not support. Bunsen's remedy is, 
 ** Let Gesenius be removed from Halle, where he does harm, 
 to Berlin, where he will have his equals." Wegscheider (w^ho 
 does not go so far as Paulus) would be hissed at Berlin, were 
 he to advance there what he promulgates at Halle. 
 
 Jicne 2d. — With a numerous party of Germans, at a Trat- 
 toria beyond San Giovanni, in honor of a successful artist, 
 Krahl, leaving Rome. A cordial though humble supper, at 
 six pauls (35.) each. I was touched when I heard the famil- 
 iar sounds from my Burschenzeit, when a vivat was simg to the 
 Scheidenden Bruder, the departing brother, &c. A lanrel 
 crown was put on his head. Nothing affects me so much as 
 partings. 
 
 H. C. B. TO T. R. 
 
 Rome, June 26, 1830. 
 
 On the 10th of June we saw a sight, in its way one of the 
 most remarkable ever seen, — the procession of the Pope at 
 the fete of Corpus Domini. It was got up with great splen- 
 dor. You of coarse know that this fete celebrates the great 
 mystery of transubstantiation. All that is of rank in the Ro- 
 man Church imites to do homage to the bread-God. The 
 Piazza of St. Peter is environed by a tented covering, which is 
 adorned with leaves and flowers ; and the procession, issuing 
 from the great door of the cathedral, makes the circuit of the 
 square, and re-enters the cathedral. All the monastic orders, 
 canons, and higher clergy, all the bishops and cardinals, 
 attend, but the great object is His Holiness. He is chaired, 
 and most artfully is the chair prepared. The Pope is covered 
 with an immense garment of white satin, studded with golden 
 stars. His robe hangs in folds behind him, and is made to lie 
 as if his feet were there, — he acts kneeling. In like manner 
 you see under the satin what you take to be his arms ; and 
 upon what look like his hands stands the Monstrance, wathih 
 which is the Host. On this the Pope fixed his eye intently, 
 and never once turned it aside, while his lips moved as if he 
 6* 
 
130 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 were absorbed in prayer, and not noticing the people, all of 
 whom, as he drew near, threw themselves on their knees. I 
 was at a window, and therefore without offence could keep my 
 position. Behind His Holiness were carried two immense fans 
 of peacock's feathers ; and the Roman nobility followed in gala 
 dresses. Indeed, all were in gala dress, — spectators as well 
 as actors. It was certainly an imposing sight ; though placed 
 as I was, I could see very clearly that the Pope was sitting 
 most comfortably in an arm-chair, with his hands in his lap, 
 and no otherwise annoyed than by the necessity of keeping his 
 eyes fixed, as school-boys do, or try to do, without winking. 
 After the procession had passed I ran into the cathedral. It 
 was nearly full, and it was an awful moment when the bene- 
 diction was given. I was out of sight of the chief performer, 
 but on a sudden the thousands who filled the cathedral, except 
 a few heretics, were on their knees. You might have heard a 
 mouse stir. On a sudden every one rose, and triumphant 
 music rang out. God's representative had given his blessing 
 to the faithful ; of which representative Goethe says : '' There 
 is not a relic of primitive Christianity here ; and if Jesus Christ 
 were to return to see what his deputy was about, he would 
 run a fair chance of being crucified again." Mind, Goethe says ' 
 this, not I ; and I repeat it more for the point of the thing 
 
 than for its truth 
 
 On the 17th and 18th of June I made an excm*sion of great 
 interest with a young German artist, — we went to Genzano 
 to see the Feast of Flowers. This is one of the most primitive, 
 simple, and idyllic feasts ever seen in Italy. Genzano, as you 
 will see in my account of my journey to Naples, is one of the 
 mountain towns beyond Albano, and under Monte Cavo. It 
 is an ancient Latin city. Its situation is romantic. I went 
 the first day to Aricia, also a delightful mountain town, where 
 I stayed with simple-hearted excellent people. We spent the 
 next day in strolling in a romantic country, and in the evening 
 we went to the fete. Two long streets were paved with flow- 
 ers. The whole ground was covered with boughs of box, and 
 the centre was covered with the richest imaginable carpet of 
 flower-leaves. These were arranged in the form of temples, 
 altars, crosses, and other sacred symbols. Also the Austrian, 
 French, and Papal arms were in the same way formed, " like 
 chalk on rich men's floors." * Poppy -leaves, for instance, made 
 
 * " Like forms, with chalk 
 Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast nighL" 
 
 Wordsworth's Sonnet. I. Personal Talk. Vol. IV. p. 219. 
 
U30.] ITALY. 131 
 
 a brilliant red, which was the border of all the plot-grounds, 
 or frameworks ; and various flowers of rich yellows, blues, (fee, 
 were used for the appropriate heraldic colors. The procession, 
 of coiu*se, was not to be compared with that of the Pope and 
 cardinals on Corpus Domini^ but it was pretty. Children 
 gaudily dressed, with golden wings like angels, carried the 
 signs of the Passion; priests and monks in abundance ; banners, 
 crosses ; and, borne by a bishop with great pomp, the Mon- 
 strance, before which all knelt, except a few foreigners. All 
 that was wanting to render the sight interesting was, — not a 
 belief in the value of such shows, but a sympathy with the 
 feelings of others. 
 
 The great principle of the Catholic Church is to keep the 
 faithful in subjection by frightening them ; and at the same 
 time there is an endeavor to make the shows as interesting as 
 possible. 
 
 June 28th. — In the evening, the Feast of the Vigil of Saint 
 Peter and Saint Paul. It is much celebrated, and usually de- 
 tains many foreigners in Rome, on account of the famous illu- 
 mination of the exterior of St. Peter's. I accompanied Gotzen- 
 berger* and a Madame Louska, a German artiste with whom 
 he was intimate. There are peculiar ceremonies on this day, 
 all of which are noted down in the books of the Church. And 
 the church itself too was in full dress. I descended into the 
 subterranean church. A very curious sight in this crypt. 
 Here are numerous low passages, only now and then open ; to- 
 day, to men only. There are many very old statues, some 
 Grecian and Eoman, — turned Christian. Among others, a 
 head of St. Peter manifestly clapped on to the body of a Roman 
 Senator. After a bad supper at a Trattoria, w^e went to see the 
 first illumination, which had begun at eight. ^* A sight," as I 
 wrote to my brother, '' followed, which is worth a pilgrimage, 
 being unforgetable." Imagine St. Paul's blazing in the air, 
 graceful lines running from the Ball to the Stone Gallery, of a 
 pale yellow flame. The clock strikes nine, and instantly the 
 first illumination is lost in a blaze of lurid light. A regular 
 corps of workmen are stationed at intervals about the dome, 
 and effect the change with marvellous celerity ; and there are 
 added fireworks from the adjacent Castle of St. Angelo. 
 
 My last days before I left Rome for the summer were spent in 
 reading Goethe about Rome.f It was when he was himself about 
 
 * A German artist. See p. 74. 
 
 t " Italianische Reise." Vol. XXIII. Goethes Werke. Also '* Zweiter 
 Aufenthalt in Rom." Vol. XXIV. 
 
132 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 to depart that he wrote the wise sentence, '^ In jeder grossen 
 Trennuiig liegt ein Keim von Wahnsinn. Man muss sick hilten 
 ihn nachdenklich auszuhreiten und zu pjiegeny * It was when 
 he had written the first volume of his works, — in the opinion 
 of many, his best works, — that he wrote, " Wie wenig Spur 
 Idsst man von einem Lehen zuriick / " t Goethe was not a vain 
 man. He thought little of what he actually did, compared 
 with the possibilities of his nature. 
 
 After spending a few days at Siena, where it is said the best 
 Italian is spoken, and where certainly it seemed to me that 
 even the servant-maids had an agreeable pronunciation, we 
 arrived, on the 15th of July, at Florence. When Mr. Finch 
 heard of my wish to spend the summer months in this favorite 
 place of resort, he said : " There are living, in a genteel part 
 of the town, two elderly ladies, highly respectable, who let 
 their best apartments, but not to entire strangers. Nor are 
 they particularly cheap ; but there you will be at your ease. 
 Niccolini, the dramatic poet, is their intimate friend. He visits 
 them regularly twice a day ; but seldom, if ever, breaks bread 
 in the house. Such are Italian habits. Every evening there 
 is a conversazione, attended by from six to ten friends ; and 
 this particularly recommends the house to you." (This indeed 
 led me to resist all attempts to detain me at Siena.) Accord- 
 ingly, my first business, after taking coffee, was to go to 
 Mesdames Certellini, 1341, Via della Nuova Vigna ; and I was, 
 without any difficulty, at once installed, having a large sitting- 
 room, and a bedroom beyond, in the piano secondo. I was 
 pleased at once with their unpretending manners, and I had a 
 confidence in their integrity in which I was not disappointed. 
 I paid five pauls a day for my room, and the servants were to 
 cook for me. Niccolini was with us for two hours in the even- 
 ing, with whom I immediately entered into discussion on Ger- 
 man literature, of which he was as much an opponent as I was 
 a decided partisan, » 
 
 In a letter to my brother, dated August 15th, I wrote : " This 
 has been my daily life since I came here. I spend my morn- 
 ings, from six till three, in my room reading Machiavelli and 
 Alfieri. Political works are my favorite reading now. At 
 three I dine. In the afternoon I lounge over the papers at 
 the Reading-room, a liberal institution, kept by M. Vieusseux, % 
 
 * "In every great separation there lies a germ of madness. One must 
 thoughtfully beware of extending and cherishing it." 
 
 + " How little trace of a life does one leave behind him." 
 
 X Jean Pierre Vieusseux, a native of Leghorn, born of a Genevese family. 
 
I - 
 
 i§ao.] ITALY. 133 
 
 a man to whom Tuscany owes much. From six to nine he is 
 at home, and as I brought a letter to him from Mr. Finch, I 
 generally step in. There I see a number of the most distin- 
 guished literati in Italy, all Liberals, a large proportion of them 
 Neapolitans and Sardinians. From nine to eleven there is 
 always a conversazione at home. Niccolini, the dramatic poet, 
 is the intimate friend of the house, and never fails. We talk 
 on politics and on poetry, and never want subjects to dispute 
 about. You will smile to hear that I am under the necessity 
 of defending Catholic emancipation in a country in which none 
 but the Roman Catholic religion is legally recognized. I have 
 endured the heat very well. My breakfast throws me into a 
 perspiration. At evening parties the gentlemen are allowed to 
 take off their coats and their neckcloths. The other evening I 
 burnt my hand by heedlessly putting it on the parapet of a 
 bridge ; yet it was then eight o'clock. I was returning from a 
 play performed by daylight, — the spectators sitting in the 
 open air, but in the shade." 
 
 July 22d. — I was instructed by reading Pecchio's * 
 " History of the Science of Political Economy." He taught me 
 that the Italian writers had the merit of showing the effect of 
 commerce, agriculture, <fec. on the moral state and happiness 
 of a country ; while English writers confined their inquiry to 
 the mere wealth of nations. Beccaria and Filangieri are their 
 prime writers, economists as well as philanthropists. 
 
 July 23d and 2Jf.th. — I read these days a little known work 
 by Niccolini, a tragedy, — Nahiicco, — being, under Oriental 
 
 He was the founder, not only of the Reading-room above mentioned, but also 
 of several critital and literary periodicals of very high repute. A brief account 
 of him will be found in the Conversations Lexicon. 
 
 * This Pecchio I afterwards knew at Brighton. He was fortunate in marry- 
 ing an estimable English lady, who survives him in retirement at Brighton. 
 He was a worthy man, of quiet habits, and much respected. His opinion was, 
 that though the science of the Italians had not supplied the want of liberty, it 
 had mitigated many evils: evils as often proceeding from ignorance as fronithe 
 love of power and selfishness. — H. C. R. 
 
 Giuseppe Pecchio was born at Milan in 1785. The occupation of Lom- 
 bardy caused him to write a political work, in connection with his own coun- 
 try: and an attempt at insurrection, in which he was implicated, led to his 
 spending some time in Switzerland, Spain, and Portugal. He wrote works on 
 the latter two countries. He also visited Greece, and helped to write " A Pic- 
 ture of Greece in 1825." The work to which H. C. R. refers is doubtless one 
 entitled Stoina delV Economia pubblica in Italia^ in which an account is given 
 of the substance of the principal Italian works on political economy. In 1823 
 Pecchio visited England, and, after his return from Greece, in 1825, settled in 
 this country. In 1827, he married a lady at Brighton, and lived there till his 
 death, which took place in 1835. During his residence in England his mind 
 was active in observing the English people, and the results were given in sev- 
 eral works, whicii were highly esteemed both for their ability and their spirit. 
 
134 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. •. 
 
 names, the history of Buonaparte in his domestic relations. It 
 iSj Hke all his tragedies, declamatory, without passion or 
 character. Niccolini made no secret of his liberal opinions ; 
 but he was an anxious, nervous, timid man, and unfit for 
 action. His tragedy of " The Sicilian Vespers," though made 
 as little political as possible, being a domestic tragedy, could 
 not but contain passages capable of a dangerous application. 
 He told me that, on the publication, the French Minister said 
 
 to the Austrian Minister at Florence : '* Monsieur , ought 
 
 I not to require the Grand Duke's government to suppress 
 itr' — *^ I do not see," said the Austrian Minister, "that you 
 have anything to do with it. The letter is addressed to you, 
 but the contents are for me." Niccolini's dramatic works all 
 belong to the Classical school. He is a stylist, and very 
 hostile to the Romantic school. He blamed (as Paulus, at 
 Heidelberg, had done) our government for Catholic emancipa- 
 tion. " Give the Romanists," he said, " full liberty : that they 
 have a right to ; — but political power on no account. They 
 will exercise it to your destruction when they can." I confess 
 that T am less opposed to this opinion now than I was when T 
 heard it. 
 
 Reading and society were the prime objects of interest during 
 my Florence summer ; I shall therefore, with one exception, 
 pass over journeys and sights without notice. 
 
 Among the frequenters of our evening conversazioni were a 
 Countess Testa and her brother Buonarotti, a judge. They 
 inherited this great name from a brother of Michael Angelo ; 
 and the judge possessed in his house a few graphic and literary 
 memorials of the great man. They were less fortunate in their 
 immediate ancestor. Their father was one of the very bad 
 men of the last generation. He was a partisan of the Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety in 1794. But though a ferocious 
 fanatic, he did not add to this the baseness of profiting by his 
 cruelty, or combine the love of gold with the thirst for blood. 
 He had no rapacity, and was as honest, in a certain narrow 
 sense of that word, as Robespierre himself When the French 
 revolution broke out, he caught the infection, abandoned his 
 family, and wrote to his wife that he released her from all ob- 
 ligations ; he would be no longer an Italian, but a Frenchman, 
 and would have a French wife. So far, he kept his word. 
 He never returned, nor did he ever see his wife or children any 
 more. 
 
 He was in prison after the fall of Robespierre, and narrowly 
 
1830.] ITALY. 135 
 
 escaped deportation. He subsequently took part in the famous 
 conspiracy of Babeuf, the object of which was avowed to be 
 the abohtion of property. His Hfe was spared, on the merci- 
 ful suggestion that he was insane, and he lived many years at 
 Brussels as a language-master. 
 
 My political reading was interrupted by a proposal to be 
 one of a party in a pilgrimage to the nearest of the three Tus- 
 can monasteries. We set out on the 2d of August, drove to 
 Pelago, about fifteen miles, and thence walked to the Benedic- 
 tine monastery, which has been an object of interest to Eng- 
 lish travellers, chiefly because one of our great poets has in- 
 troduced its name into a simile : — 
 
 " He called 
 His le^rions, angel forms, who lay entranced, 
 Thick"as autumnal leaves that s*trew the brooks 
 In Vallombrosn^ where the Etrurian shades, 
 High over-arched, embow^er." * 
 
 It must be the delight which the sound gives to every ear 
 susceptible of the beauty of verse, that excites a curiosity con- 
 cerning the place, the name of which is so introduced. But as 
 far as expectation is raised, that can only suffer disappoint- 
 ment from the visit, for with the present appearance of the 
 valley the description does not in the least agree. I could see 
 but one little stream in it. It is by no means woody, and all 
 the trees now growing there (I presume that twenty years 
 have produced no change) are pine or fir trees, and of all trees 
 the least adapted to arched bowers are the fir and larch. 
 
 We reached Florence between eight and nine, and I went 
 straight to Vieusseux, impelled by mere curiosity, as if I had 
 a presentiment of the marvellous news I was about to hear : 
 news, of which I wrote next day in my journal, that it had 
 afflicted me more than any I had heard since the fall of Napo- 
 leon ; and looking back now upon what had then occurred, 
 though the immediate consequences were other than I had ex- 
 pected, it is impossible to contemplate them without a mixture 
 of sorrow and shame. One Englishman only was in the read- 
 ing-room, a language-master (Hamilton). "Any news?" I 
 asked. — " None to-day." — "I have been at Camaldoli three 
 days." — " Then you have not heard the great news ] " — "I 
 have heard nothing." — " " (with a voice of glee) " the King 
 of France has done his duty at last. He has sent the Cham- 
 ber of Deputies about their business, abolished the d d 
 
 *** Paradise Lost.'* Book I., 300-304. 
 
136 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Crap. 8. 
 
 Constitution and the liberty of the press, and proclaimed his 
 own power as absolute king." — " And that you call good 
 hews 1 " I felt indignant, and never would speak to the man 
 afterwards. I went up stairs ; Vieusseux was alone, and in evi- 
 dent affliction. He gave me an account of the ordinances 
 which Charles X. had issued ; but nothing had been heard of 
 what took place afterwards. " And what will the end be ] '' -r— 
 " I know what the result will be," answered Vieusseux. " It 
 will end in the driving of the Bourbons out of France, — per- 
 haps in three days, perhaps in three weeks, perhaps in three 
 years ; but driven out they will be." They were driven out at 
 the moment he w^as speaking, and they have not yet returned. 
 Are they driven out forever 1 
 
 At Madame Certellini's were Niccolini, Fieri, and others of 
 my acquaintance, sitting in silence, as at a funeral ; all alike 
 confounded at the intelligence. 
 
 Heat and anxiety kept me awake at night. 
 
 August 5th, — Next day was lost to all ordinary occupations ; 
 nothing thought or talked of but what we expected to hear every 
 hour; each man, according to his temperament, anticipating 
 what he hoped, or what he feared. I had no doubt that we 
 should hear of bloody transactions. The reports were ludi- 
 crously contradictory. 
 
 August 7th, — Between ten and eleven I was in my bedroom, 
 when, hearing my name, I went into my sitting-room. There 
 was Niccolini, pale as ashes. He had sat down, and exclaimed, 
 in sentences scarcely distinguishable, " Tutto e jinitoy I was 
 enough master of myself to reply, Che I finito ! Tutto e comin- 
 ciaio I " for I recollected in a moment the commencement de la 
 fin. He went on to inform me what he had heard from the 
 Austrian Minister in a few shoit sentences, that after three 
 days' fighting at Paris, La Fayette was at the head of the 
 National Guards ; a provisional government was established ; 
 the king had fled, nobody knew where. Of the impression of 
 this news in Italy I have alone to write. I went to the Bead- 
 ing-rooms. Both rooms were filled with company. An English- 
 man came to me laughing, and sard, not altogether meaning it ; 
 " Look at all these rascals : they cannot conceal their joy, 
 though they dare not speak out. I would shoot them all if I 
 were the Grand Duke." — " You would have a good deal to do, 
 then," I answered in the same tone. I came home and wrote 
 two letters to Rome, that is, to Mr. Finch and to Richmond. 
 Neither of them had heard of anything more than the ordi- 
 
1830.] ITALY. 137 
 
 nances. Richmond ran about reading my letter, and was 
 threatened by the police with being sent to prison, as a 
 spreader of false tidings. Mr. Finch drove out in his carriage, 
 and read my letter to all his friends. As far as he could learn, 
 no other information of these events arrived that day at Rome. 
 Such is the effect of fear. Mr. Finch wrote and thanked me 
 for my letter. His letter was very characteristic. He said his 
 great friend, Edmund Burke, would have approved of the event, 
 and he blessed God that he had lived to know of this triumph 
 of rational liberty. Not long after, Mayer wrote to inform me 
 of Finch's death, saying that the reception of the news I for- 
 warded to him was his last pleasure in this world. 
 
 August IJftli, — Met to-day the one man living in Florence 
 whom I was anxious to know. This was Walter Savage Lan- 
 dor, a man of unquestionable genius, but very questionable 
 good sense ; or, rather, one of those unmanageable men, — 
 
 *' Blest with huge stores of wit, 
 Who want as much again to manage it." 
 
 Without pretending now to characterize him (rather bold in me 
 to attempt such a thing at any time), I will merely bring together 
 the notes that I think it worth while to preserve concerning him 
 during this summer ; postponing an account of my subsequent 
 intercourse with him. I had the good fortune to be introduced 
 to him as the friend of his friends, Southey and Wordsworth. 
 He was, in fact, only Southey 's friend. Of Wordsworth he then 
 professed warm admiration. I received an immediate invitation 
 to his villa. This villa is within a few roods of that most classic 
 spot on the Tuscan Mount, Fiesole, where Boccaccio's hundred 
 tales were told. To Landor's society I owed much of my highest 
 enjoyment during my stay at Florence. 
 
 He was a man of florid complexion, with large full eyes, and 
 altogether a leonine man, and with a fierceness of tone well suited 
 to his name ; his decisions being confident, and on all subjects, 
 whether of taste or life, unqualified ; each standing for itself, 
 not caring whether it was in harmony with what had gone be- 
 fore or would follow from the same oracular lips. But why 
 should I trouble myself to describe him % He is painted by a 
 master hand in Dickens's novel, " Bleak House," now in course 
 of publication, where he figiires as Mr. Boythorn. The com- 
 bination of superficial ferocity and inherent tenderness, so ad- 
 mirably portrayed in " Bleak House," still at first strikes every 
 stranger, — for twenty-two years have not materially changed 
 
138 REMINISCP:NCES of henry CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8- 
 
 him, — no less than his perfect frankness and reckless indiffer- 
 ence to what he says. 
 
 On August 20th I first visited him at his villa. There were 
 his w^ife, a lady w^ho had been a celebrated beauty, and three 
 fine boys and a girl. He told me something of his history. 
 He was from Warwickshire, but had a family estate in Wales. 
 Llanthony Priory belonged to him. He was well educated, — 
 I forget w^here j and Dr. Parr, he said, pronounced him one of 
 the best Latin verse writers. When twenty-one, he printed 
 his Latin poem of " Gebir." He was sent to Oxford, from 
 
 which he was expelled for shooting at the Master, Dr. . 
 
 This was his own statement at a later day, when he repeated 
 to me his epigram on Horse-Kett, a learned Professor so nick- 
 named, — 
 
 " * The Centaur is not fabulous,' said Young. 
 Had Young known Kett, 
 He had said, ' Behold one put together wrong; 
 The head is horseish ; but, what yet 
 Was never seen in man or beast, 
 The rest is human ; or, at least, 
 Is Kett." 
 
 His father wished him to study the law, saying : " If you 
 will study, 1 will allow you £ 350, or perhaps £ 400, per an- 
 num. If not, you shall have £ 120, and no more; and I do 
 not wish to see your face again." Said Landor : " I thanked 
 my father for his offer, and said, ' I could take your £ 350, 
 and pretend to study, and do nothing. But I never did de- 
 ceive you, nor ever will.' So I took his £ 120, and lived with 
 great economy, refusing to dine out, that I might not lose my 
 independence.'' He did not tell me then or afterwards the 
 rest of his history. 
 
 Though he meant to live and die in Italy, he had a very bad 
 opinion of the Italians. He would rather follow his daughter 
 to the grave than to the church with an Italian husband. No 
 wonder that, with this turn of mind, he should be shunned. 
 The Italians said, '* Every one is afraid of him." Yet he was 
 respected universally. He had credit for generosity, as well 
 as honesty ; and he deserved it, provided an ample allowance 
 was made for caprice. He was conscious of his own infirmity 
 of temper, and told me he saw few persons, because he could 
 not bear contradiction. Certainly, I frequently did contradict 
 him ; yet his attentions to me, both this and the following 
 vear, w^ere imwearied. 
 
 He told me of having been ordered to leave Florence for in- 
 
1830.] ITALY. 139 
 
 science towards the government. He asked for leave to return 
 for a few days on business. The minister said a passport could 
 not be given him, but that instructions would be given at the 
 frontiers to admit him, and his continuance would be over- 
 looked if he wished it. He has remained unmolested ever 
 since. 
 
 Among the antipathies which did not offend me, was his 
 dislike of Lord Byron, which was intense. He spoke with in- 
 dignation of his '^ Satire " on Rogers, the poet ; and told me 
 the story — which I afterwards heard at fh-st hand from Lady 
 Blessington — of Lord Byron's high glee at forcing Rogers to 
 sit on the cushion under which lay that infamous lampoon. Of 
 his literary judgments the following are specimens : Of Dante, 
 about a seventieth part is good ; of Ariosto, a tenth ; of Tasso, 
 not a line worth anything, — yes, one line. He declared al- 
 most all Wordsworth to be good. Landor was as dogmatic on 
 painting as on poetry. He possessed a considerable collection 
 of pictures. His judgment was amusingly at variance with 
 popular opinion. He thought nothing of Michael Angelo as a 
 painter ; and, as a sculptor, preferred John of Bologna. Were 
 he rich, he said, he would not give <£ 1,000 for " The Trans- 
 figuration," but ten times as much for Fra Bartolomeo's " St. 
 Mark." Next to Raphael and Fra Bartolomeo, he loved Peru- 
 gino. He lent me several volumes of his '' Imaginary Dia- 
 logues," which I read with mixed feelings. I am ready to 
 adopt now the assertion of the Quarterly Review on the whole 
 collection : " We know^ no one able to ^^Tite anything so ill as 
 the worst, or so well as the best. Generally speaking, the 
 most highly polished are those in which the ancients are inter- 
 locutors ; and the least agreeable, the political dialogues be- 
 tween the moderns." 
 
 On the 2 2d of August I was surprised by the sudden appear- 
 ance of Richmond ; and, while with him in the Hall of Niobe, 
 heard my name called out in German. The voice came from 
 the son of Goethe, who was on his way to Rome. He and 
 Richmond breakfasted with me the next day. Goethe was 
 very chatty ; but his conversation on this day, and on the 3 1 st, 
 when he took leave of me, left a very unpleasant impression 
 on me. I might have been rude, if my veneration for the 
 father had permitted me to be perfectly free towards the son. 
 I kept my temper with difficulty towards a German who re- 
 proached the princes of his native land for their '' treachery 
 towards Napoleon," whom he praised. I could allow him to 
 
140 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. S. 
 
 abuse the marshals of France, but not the German Tugenbund 
 and General York, the King of Prussia, &c., &c. The King 
 of Saxony alone among the princes was the object of his 
 praise ; for he alone ^' kept his word." 
 
 On my arrival at Rome, a few weeks afterwards, I heard 
 that he had that day been buried, the Germans attending the 
 funeral seeing in him the descendant of their greatest man. 
 
 September 21st, — Eead to-day a disagreeable book, only be- 
 cause it was the life, by a gTeat man, of one still greater, — - 
 by Boccaccio, of Dante. I did not expect, in the voluminous 
 conteur, an extraordinary degree of superstition, and a fantas- 
 tic hunting after mystical qualities in his hero. He relates 
 that Dante's mother dreamt she lay in of a peacock, and Boc- 
 caccio finds in the peacock four remarkable properties, the 
 great qualities of the "Divina Commedia" : namely, the tail has 
 a hundred eyes, and the poem a hundred cantos ; its ugly feet 
 indicate the mean lingua volgare ; its screaming voice the 
 frightful menaces of the "Inferno" and *^ Purgatorio " ; and 
 the odoriferous and incorruptible flesh the divine truths of the 
 poem. 
 
 October 16th, — T was to have returned to Rome with 
 Schmidt ; but he was prevented, for the time, by the arrival 
 of the Spences, the parents of the lady whom he afterwards 
 married, and is now living with, in prosperity, in Tuscany. I 
 was much pleased with the Spences, who are now in the first 
 line of my friends. We knew each other by name, having a 
 common friend in Masquerier, of whom he spoke with great 
 regard. Spence is known to the world most advantageously, 
 as the joint author, with Kirby, of the Text-book in English 
 on Entomology ; * and also, but not with like authority or re- 
 pute, as an ingenious writer on Political Economy. His first 
 pamphlet, which made a noise, and for a time was very popu- 
 lar, was entitled " Britain Independent of Commerce." He 
 was, and is, a man of remarkably clear head and good sense. 
 He rather affects hostility to metaphysics and poetry ; " Be- 
 cause," he says, " I am a mere matter-of-fact man." But, with 
 all that, he seems to like my company, who am ignorant of all 
 science, — and that shows a freedom from narrow-minded at- 
 tachments. 
 
 November 16th, — (Rome.) I was at Bunsen's for the first 
 
 * *' An Introduction to Entomology; or, Elements of the Natural History 
 of Insects. With a Scientific Index. Ry the Rev. William Kirby and Wil- 
 liam Spence, Esq." 4 vols. Several editions of this valuable work have been 
 published. Professor Oken translated it into German. 
 
1830.] ITALY. 141 
 
 time this season. The confusion which prevailed over all Eu- 
 rope, in consequence of the last French Revolution, had ren- 
 dered everything uncertain. The accession of the Whigs this 
 winter, and the threatened changes in Germany and Italy, 
 made all political speculations hazardous, and diplomatists 
 were at fault ; but the popular power was in the ascendant, 
 and liberal opinions were in fashion. This evening, Bunsen 
 related an anecdote -on the circumstances attending the " Or- 
 dinances," tending to show that very serious consequences arose 
 from the French Minister, Polignac, having dwelt so long in 
 England as to confound the English with the French sense of 
 a material word. In a military report laid before him, on 
 which the Ordinances were issued, it was stated that the Paris 
 troops were 15,000 effectives ; and he understood, as it would 
 be in English, that these were effective. But unless the words 
 et presentes are added, it means in French that the number 
 stated is what ought to be there ; that is, the rated number. 
 The troops were not actually there, and the issue of the con- 
 flict is well known. 
 
 November 29th. — I had been introduced to Thorwaldsen, a 
 man not attractive in his manners, and rather coarse in per- 
 son. Kblle had taken me to his studio. He was at work on 
 his figure of Lord Byron. I thought it slim, and rather mean ; 
 but I would not set up for a judge ; nor was it far advanced. 
 The terms on which he undertook the work for the subscribers 
 
 — a thousand guineas — were thought creditable to his liber- 
 ality. 
 
 becemher 2cl. — On the 30th of November died Pius YIIL, 
 which threw Rome into an anomalous state for an uncertain 
 time. I accompanied a small party to see the body lying in state, 
 
 — a sight neither imposing to the senses, nor exciting to the 
 sensibility. On a high bed, covered with crimson silk, lay the 
 corpse in its priestly robes, with gloves, and diamond ring, &c. 
 The people were allowed to pass through the apartment indis- 
 criminately ; and, within an enclosure, priests were chanting a 
 solemn service. Afterwards I saw the body in a chapel at St. 
 Peter's, lying in state on a black bier, dressed in the episcopal 
 robes and mitre. The face looked differently, — the forehead 
 overhanging, — but it had then a mask of wax. The feet pro- 
 jected beyond an iron railing, for the faithful to kiss. 
 
 December 12th. — I was at St. Peter's again when the fune- 
 ral rites were performed. The music was solemn and affect- 
 ing. I do not recollect seeing where the body was deposited 
 
142 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, a 
 
 for the present. It is placed in its last abode on the burial of 
 the next Pope. This is the custom. 
 
 I must now go back to December 2d. In the evening, about 
 eight, on my way to attend the weekly party at Bunsen's, I 
 went down a back street to the left of the Corso. I was saun- 
 tering idly, and perhaps musing on the melancholy sight of 
 the morning, and the probable effect of a new sovereign on the 
 Romish Church, when I felt something at- my waist. Putting 
 my hand to the part, I found my watch gone, with its heavy 
 gold chain ; and a fellow ran forward. I ran after him, and 
 shouted as loud as I could, " Stop thief! " I recollected that 
 *^ Stop thief" was not Italian, but could not recollect the word 
 ladrone ; and the sense of my folly in calling "Stop thief" 
 made me laugh, and impeded my progress. The pickpocket 
 was soon out of sight, and the street was altogether empty. 
 It is lucky, indeed, that I did not reach the fellow, as there is 
 no doubt that he would have supported the dexterity of his fin- 
 gers by the strength of his wrist, and a stiletto. In the mean 
 while, my hat was knocked off my head. I walked back, and, 
 seeing persons at the door of the cafe, related my mishap, and 
 my hat was brought to me. At Bunsen's, I had the condo- 
 lence of the company, and was advised to go to the Police ; 
 which I did the next day. I related my story ; and though I 
 gave a hint, as advised, that I was willing to give fifty or sixty 
 dollars for my lost property, I was listened to with gentleman- 
 ly indifference. I could hardly get an intimation that any 
 concern would be taken about the matter ; only my card was 
 taken, I supposed, in case the thief should wish to restore the 
 watch to me of his own accord. I was told that, for a fee, 
 persons made it their business to take a description of the 
 watch to watchmakers, &c. : but, when I offered to leave 
 money at the office, I was told I must see after that myself. 
 I soon saw I could have no help there. I did give a couple of 
 dollars to a sort of agent, who was to make inquiries, which 
 profited nothing ; and this raised my loss to somewhat more 
 than £ 40. 
 
 However, this same evening, another incident took place 
 which was a source of great pleasure to me, not only during 
 my residence in Rome, but long afterwards. Madame Bunsen 
 said to me, " There is a lady I should like to introduce to you.*' 
 I answered, impertinently, "Do you mean me to fall in love 
 with her ] " She was certainly very plain ; but a tall person, 
 with a very intelligent countenance, and, indeed, a command- 
 
1830.] ITALY. 143 
 
 ing figure, should have secured her from the affronting ques- 
 tion. " Yes, I do," she replied ; and she was right. This was 
 the Hon. Miss Mackenzie, a descendant of the Earl of Seaforth, 
 in Scotland. She was of a family long proscribed as being 
 adherents of the House of Stuart. Her father was restored, I 
 understood, to the Barony only of Seaforth, and had been Gov- 
 ernor of one of the West India islands. I found, however, 
 that her distinction at Eome did not depend merely on her 
 family, but that she had the reputation of being a woman of 
 taste and sense, and the friend of artists. I was, therefore, 
 gratified by an invitation to call on her next day. On my call- 
 ing, she received me laughing. " You are come very oppor- 
 tunely," she said ; *' for I have just received a letter in which 
 you are named. It is from Mr. Landor. He writes : * I wish 
 some accident may have brought you acquainted with Mr. 
 Robinson, a friend of Wordsworth. He was a barrister, and, 
 notwithstanding, both honest and modest, — a character I 
 never heard of before ; indeed, I have never met with one who 
 was either.' " This, of course, fixed me in Miss Mackenzie's 
 favorable opinion, and the intimacy ripened quickly. Through 
 her I became acquainted with artists, &c., and in some meas- 
 ure she supplied the loss of Lord Northampton's house, which 
 was not opened to parties during the season, in consequence of 
 the death of Lady Northampton. 
 
 December Sd. — Among my acquaintances was a sculptor, 
 Ewing, whom I wished to serve ; and understanding he origi- 
 nally worked in small, making miniature copies of famous an- 
 tique statues, I intimated a wish to have something of that 
 kind from him ; for which he expressed himself gratefully. 
 He, however, ultimately succeeded in inducing me to sit for 
 my bust, which he executed in marble. The bust has great 
 merit, for it is a strong likeness, without being disgusting.* 
 
 December 25th. — To relieve myself from the unenjoyable 
 Italian reading, which was still a labor, I occasionally allowed 
 myself to read German ; and at this time Menzel's Deutsche 
 Literatur afforded me much amusement. It is a piquant 
 work. In a chapter on the German Religionists, he classifies 
 the different bodies subjectively : calling the Roman Catholic 
 system Sinnenglauhen, from the influence of the senses ; 
 the Lutheran scheme, Wortglauben (word-faith) ; and the 
 religion of the Pietists, Gefuhlsglauben (faith of the feel- 
 ings). It was thus I was employed at the close of the year at 
 
 * This bust is now in the possession of H. C. R.'s niece. Mrs. Robinson. 
 
144 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON [Chap. 8. 
 
 Rome, in the vain attempt to master a language and literature 
 for which I was already too old. 
 
 1831. 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 January 27, 1831. 
 I have been within the walls of five Italian houses at even- 
 ing parties : at three, music, and no conversation ; all, except 
 one, held in cold dark rooms, the floors black, imperfectly 
 covered with drugget, and no fire ; conversation, to me at least, 
 very dull, — that may be my fault ; the topics, theatre, music, 
 personal slander ; for religion, government, literature, were gen- 
 erally excluded from polite company. If ever religion or gov- 
 ernment be alluded to, it is in a tone of subdued contempt; for 
 though at Florence I saw many professed literati, here I have 
 not seen one ; and, except at one house, of which the mistress 
 is a German, where tea was handed round, I have never seen 
 even a cup of water offered ! 
 
 January SOth. — I heard, partly from Miss Denman, and 
 partly from the artists, where Flaxman lived when he came to 
 Rome, and that it was in a sort of chocolate-house, formerly 
 kept by three girls who were so elegant as to be called ^' the 
 Graces " ; but I was informed that they lived to be so old, that 
 they became " the Furies." One I had heard was dead. I 
 ordered some chocolate, and inquired of one of the women 
 whether she recollected an English sculptor, Flaxman, living 
 with her many years before. " No," she did not. I pressed 
 my questions. At length she asked, " Was he married ] " - — 
 " Yes." Then came the conclusive question, *' Had he a 
 hump r' I give the strong word, for she said : " Non gobhoV\ 
 and on my saying, " Yes," she clasped her hands, and exclaimed : 
 " 0, he was an angel! — they were both angels." Then she 
 ran to the staircase, and cried out : " Do, sister, come down, 
 here 's a gentleman who knew Humpy. ''^ She came down, and 
 then all kinds of questions followed. Was he dead ? Was she 
 dead % Then praises of his goodness. " He was so affectionate, 
 so good, so generous, — never gave trouble, — anxious to be 
 kind to everybody." But neither did they recollect his name, 
 nor did they know anything of him as an artist. They only 
 knew that he was " Humpy," and an " Angel." I never heard 
 Flaxman mentioned at Rome but with honor. I heard there was, 
 in a shop, a portrait of him in oils, but I was unable to find it. 
 
1831.] ITALY. 145 
 
 H. C. K TO T. R. 
 
 January 27, 1831. 
 
 Since the incarceration of the Cardinals, the city has been 
 only a little more dull than usual. On the 12th of December, 
 the day before their imprisonment, I went to look at their 
 miserable little lodgings ; very few have fireplaces, and some 
 not even stoves. You know that the election is by ballot, and 
 that two thirds of the votes must concin*. Twice a day the 
 ballot papers are examined and regularly burnt. And idlers 
 are to be seen every day after eleven o'clock on the Monte 
 Cavallo, watching for the smoke that comes from an iron flue. 
 When it is seen, they cry : '' Ecco ilfumo I No Pope to-day." 
 It is quite notorious that there are parties in the Sacro Collegio^ 
 and hitherto their bitterness is said to have gone on increasing 
 rather than diminishing. The profane are, as it happens, very 
 merry or very wrathful at the delay, — so injurious to the city. 
 During the widowhood of the Church, there can be no Carni- 
 val, and that must, if at all, be now in less than a fortnight. 
 The leaders, Albani and Barnetti, are the objects of daily re- 
 proach. The lampoons or pasquinades during the conclave 
 have been famous for centuries. I have seen several, and 
 shall bring a few home with me as cm'iosities ; but I have 
 found little wit in them. The most significant is a dialogue 
 between the Santo Spirito and the City of Rome. The Santo 
 Spirito proposes successively all the leading cardinals. The 
 City has objections to all. At lengih the Santo Spirito is tired 
 out, and gives the choice to the City, which fixes on an old man 
 in a stage of dotage. And he is chosen only on condition that 
 he should do nothing. 
 
 Every day the food that is carried in to the cardinals is ex- 
 amined, that no secret letters may be sent. Indeed all possi- 
 ble precautions are taken, as if the cardinals were as corrupt 
 as the electors of an English borough. The other day, object- 
 ing to a sensible abb6, that I could not comprehend how the 
 Emperor of Austria, <fec. should have a veto on the act of the 
 Holy Spirit (for all the pretensions of the Catholic Church, like 
 those of the Quakers, rest on the assumption of the direct and 
 immediate interference of the Holy Spirit), he answered : "And 
 why should not Providence act by the instrumentality of an 
 emperor or king % " 
 
 In the mean while, in consequence of this delay, the lodg- 
 ings are empty, and the foreigners unusually few. One inno- 
 
 TOL. II. 7 J 
 
146 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 vation has been permitted — the theatres are open, and the 
 ambassadors give balls. But a real Carnival — that is, mask- 
 ing — would be almost as bad as a Reformation. However, 
 there is a current prophecy, according to which the election 
 ought to take place to-morrow. We shall see 
 
 February 23, 1831. 
 Four days afterwards, 31st January, 1831, while chatting 
 with a countryman in the forenoon, I heard a discharge of 
 cannon. 1 left my sentence unfinished, rushed into the street, 
 already full of people, and ran up Monte Cavallo. It was 
 already crowded, and I witnessed in dumb show the proclama- 
 tion of the new Pope from the balcony of the palace. No 
 great interest seemed really to be felt by the people in the 
 street, but when I talked with the more intelligent, I found 
 that the election gave general satisfaction. Bunsen, the Prus- 
 sian Minister, and in general all the Liberals, consider the 
 choice as a most happy one. Cardinal Cappellari has the repu- 
 tation of being at the same time learned, pious, liberal, and 
 prudent. The only drawback on his popularity is his character 
 of monk. This makes him unpopular with many who have no 
 means of forming a personal judgment. There was, however, 
 one consequence of the election, independent of the man, — it 
 assured the people of their beloved Carnival. The solemn 
 procession from the Quirinal to St. Peter's presented nothing 
 remarkable ; but on Sunday, the 6th, the coronation took place, 
 — a spectacle so august and magnificent, that it equalled all 
 my imaginings. So huge an edifice is St. Peter's that, though 
 all the decently dressed people of Rome had free entrance, it 
 was only full, not crowded. I was considerate enough to go 
 early, and so lucky, that I had even a seat and elevated stand 
 in an excellent situation,^ and witnessed every act of sacrifice 
 and adoration. All the cardinals and bishops and high clergy 
 attended His Holiness, seated aloft. The military, the para- 
 phernalia of the Roman Church, made a gorgeous spectacle. 
 Nor was the least significant and affecting object the burning 
 tow, which flashed and was no more, while the herald cried 
 aloud, "So passes away the glory of the world," a truth 
 that is at this moment felt with a poignancy unknown to the 
 Roman hierarchy since it was endowed with the gift of Con- 
 stantine. The Pope was consecrated a bishop, he administered 
 mass, he received the adoration (the word used here) of the 
 cardinals, who kissed his slipper, hand, and face. The bishops 
 
1831.] ITALY. 147 
 
 were admitted only to the hand, and the priests advanced no 
 higher than the foot. 
 
 The excitement of this most imposing of solemnities had 
 scarcely subsided when another excitement succeeded to it, 
 which lasted during the remainder of my abode at Rome. Al- 
 most immediately the report was spread that the Legations were 
 in a state of insurrection. My journal, during the greater 
 part of the next three months, is nearly filled with this sub- 
 ject. It is not possible now to recall to mind the fluctuations 
 of feeling which took place. I gave to my acquaintance the 
 advice of m.y friend Bottom, " But wonder on till truth makes 
 all things plain." In the little anxiety I felt I was perhaps as 
 foolish as the Irishman in the house afire, " I am only a 
 lodger." 
 
 H. C. R. TO W. Pattisson, Esq., and his Sons. 
 
 Florence, 14th June, 1831. 
 
 .... I suspect you, with all other Englishmen, are so ab- 
 sorbed in the politics of the day, and have been so for so long 
 a time, as to be scarcely aware of the stimulating situation in 
 which I have been placed, arising out of a state of uncertain- 
 ty and expectation almost without a parallel. You have per- 
 haps heard that the larger part of the subjects of the Pope 
 renounced their allegiance, and that the government, being 
 utterly worn out, subsisting only by the sufferance of the great 
 Catholic powers, and retaining the allegiance of the capital 
 merely by the subsistence it afforded to its idle population, 
 seemed on the brink of dissolution. Rome was left without 
 troops, and the government without revenue. For weeks we 
 expected the enemy. Had he come, there might have been a 
 riot of the Trasteverini (a sort of Birmingham Church-and- 
 King mab), who live beyond the Tiber, but there would have 
 been no resistance. In imbecility, however, the insurgent 
 government rivalled the Papal, and, as you have perhaps heard, 
 the Italian revolution was suppressed with even more ease than 
 it was effected. The truth is, that but for the intervention of 
 Austria, the Italian governments (with the exception of Tus- 
 can}^) had contrived to render themselves so odious to the 
 people, that any rebellion, supported by the slightest force, 
 was sure to succeed. A single Austrian regiment, however, 
 was enough to disperse all the revolutionists in the peninsula 
 
148 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8, 
 
 the moment they found chat the French would not make wat 
 in their behalf. 
 
 I find an insulated incident on Wednesday, the 16th of 
 February. Breakfasting at the Aurora, and drinking milk in 
 my chocolate, I was requested to sit in the back part of the 
 room, where it could not be seen that I was drinking a prohib- 
 ited article. 
 
 February 27th. — At the San Pietro in Vinculis, I was 
 amused by seeing a sweet child, five or six years old, kiss with 
 a childish fervor the chains of St. Peter. The good priest, their 
 custode, could not suppress a smile. This led to a few words 
 on relics between me and him. He belonged to the honest 
 and simple-hearted. " Is it quite certain that these are really 
 St. Peter's chains ^ " I asked. " You are not called on to be- 
 lieve in them," he answered ; "it is no article of faith." — 
 *' But do you permit the uneducated to believe what you do 
 not yourselves believe ] " — " We do not disbelieve. All we can 
 possibly know is this : for ages beyond human memory, our an- 
 cestors have affirmed their belief We do not think they would 
 have willingly deceived us. And then the belief does good. 
 It strengthens pious feelings. It does no harm, surely." This 
 is what the priests are perpetually falling back on. They are 
 utiHtarians. I could get no further with this priest. He asked 
 questions of me in return ; and seemed to lose all his dislike 
 of the Anglican Church when I told him, to his astonishment, 
 that we had not only bishops, but archdeacons, canons, and 
 minor canons. On this he exclaimed, with an amusing earnest- 
 ness, "The English Church is no bad thing." 
 
 March 17th. — Mayer took me to a soiree at Horace Ver- 
 net's, on the Pincian Hill, — the palace of the French Acade- 
 my. It was quite a new scene to me. Nothing like it had 
 come before me at Rome. French only was spoken, and of 
 course the talk was chiefly on politics and the state of Rome. 
 I found the young artists by no means alarmed. Twenty high- 
 spirited, well-built young men had nothing to fear from a Ro- 
 man mob in a house built, like the Medici Palace, upon an 
 elevation. It would stand a siege well. Horace Vernet was, 
 beyond all doubt, a very clever man ; yet I doubt whether any 
 picture by him could ever give me much pleasure. He had 
 the dangerous gift of great facility. I was once in his studio 
 when he was at work. There were a dozen persons in the 
 room, talking at their ease. They did not disturb him in the 
 
1S31.1 ITALY. 149 
 
 least. On another occasion I saw a number of portraits about : 
 they seemed to me execrable : but they might be the work of 
 TM^.pils. Vernet's vivaciry gave me the impression of his being 
 a man of general abiliiy, destined to give him a social, but an 
 evanescent, reputation. 
 
 H. C. K TO T. R. 
 
 Rome, April 2, 1831. 
 
 During the last month the news of the day and Italian 
 reading have shared my attention. I have had little to do 
 with religious ceremonies. I did, however, witness the bless^ 
 ing of the palms ; and I have heard the Miserere once. 
 Branches of the palm are peeled, and the peel is cut, and 
 plaited, and braided, and curled into all sorts of fantastic 
 forms. Each cardinal, bishop, and priest holds one, and there 
 is a long detail of kissing. The solemn step of the procession, 
 the rich dresses of the cardinals, and the awful music, would 
 have made a stronger impression if I had not witnessed the 
 coronation. The Miserere is unlike all other music. It is sung 
 without any accompaniment of instruments, and is deeply 
 affecting, and every now and then startling. I was so much 
 touched that I should have believed any story of its effect on 
 thos^ who are not nearly so insensible to music as you know 
 me to be. 
 
 April 7th,^- — A supper given to Cornelius in the Villa Albani. 
 Gotzentei'ger was the impresario. The eating bad ; but I sat 
 next Thorwaldsen. There were many persons of note, amongst 
 others Bunsen ; and in all there were sixty present, to do hon- 
 or to a man who did not afterwards disappoint the expecta- 
 tions formed of him. 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R. 
 
 April, 1831. 
 
 It is now several days since I read the book you recommend- 
 ed to me, " Mrs. Leicester's School " ; and I feel as if I owed a 
 debt in deferring to thank you for many hours of exquisite 
 delight. Never have I read anything in prose so many times 
 over, within so short a space of time, as " The Father's Wed- 
 ding-day." Most people, I understand, prefer the first tale, — 
 in truth a very admirable one, — but others could have writ- 
 ten it. Show me the man or woman, modern or ancient, who 
 ^ould have written this one sentence : " When I was dressed 
 
150 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. & 
 
 in my new frock, I wished poor mamma was alive ^ ' 
 fine I was on papa's wedding-day ; and I ran to njie 
 station at her bedroom door." How natural, in a ' ,v»'l. is 
 this incongruitv, this impossibiHty ! Richardson would have 
 given his '^Clarissa." and Rousseau his " Heloi'se." to have im- 
 agined it. A fresh source of the pathetic barsts out before us, 
 and not a bitter one. If your Germans can show us anything 
 comparable to what I have transcribed, I would almost under- 
 go a year's gurgle of their language for it. The story is ad- 
 mirable throughout, — incomparable, inimitable 
 
 Yours, (fee, 
 
 W. Landor. 
 
 May Jfth, — In the evening I was with my friend Miss 
 Mackenzie. She asked me whether I had heard any reports 
 connecting her in any way with Thorwaldsen. I said she 
 must be aware that every one in a gossiping world took the 
 liberty of talking about the private affairs of every one ; that 
 I had heard it said that it was understood that Thorwaldsen was 
 to marry her ; and that the cause of the contract being broken 
 reflected no dishonor on her. She smiled, and desired me to 
 say what that cause was understood to be. I said, simply that 
 he had formed a connection with an Italian woman, which he 
 did not dare to break. She threatened his life, and he thought 
 it was in danger. Miss Mackenzie said she believed this to be 
 the fact, and on that ground Thorwaldsen begged to be re- 
 leased. She added, that he w^as very culpable in suffering the 
 affair to go on so long. 
 
 I left Rome early on the morning of the 6th of May. 
 Goethe says, in his " Italian Journey," that every one who 
 leaves Rome asks himself, "- When shall I be able to come here 
 again % " There is great unity of effect produced by Rome. 
 It is the city of tombs and ruins. The environs are a pestif- 
 erous marsh, and on all sides you have images of death. 
 What aged nobleman was it who preferred his dead son to any 
 living son in Christendom % Who is there who does not prefer 
 the ruins of Rome to the new buildings of London and Paris ] 
 
 May 2Jfth. — (Florence. ) I was glad to renew my acquaint- 
 ance with W. S. Landor, which lasted with increased pleasure 
 during my second residence at Florence. My evening walks 
 to Fiesole, and returns after midnight, were frequent and most 
 delightful, accompanied by a noble mastiff dog, who deserves 
 honorable mention from me. This dog never failed to accom- 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
1831.] ITAKY. 151 
 
 pany me from Landor's villa to the gate of Florence ; and I 
 could never make him leave me till I was at the gate ; and 
 then, on my patting him on the head, as if he were conscious 
 his protection was no longer needed, he would run off rapidly. 
 The fireflies on the road were of a bright yellow, — the color of 
 the moon, as if sparks from that flame. I would name them 
 "earth-stars," as well as "glow-worms," or "fireflies." 
 
 May 27th. — I made my first call on a character^ whose 
 parties I occasionally attended in the evening. She was one 
 of three remarkable Italian women mentioned by Lady Mor- 
 gan, — all of whom I saw. She was an old woman, more than 
 seventy years of age, but a very fluent talker. Her anti- 
 Buonapartism pleased me. This was the Marchioness Sacrati. 
 In her youth she was handsome. Her husband left her poor, 
 and she obtained a pension from the Pope, in the character of 
 a vedova pericolante ("a widow in danger ") ; it being suggest- 
 ed that, from poverty, her virtue might be in peril. This is a 
 knoTNTi class; perhaps, I should say, a satirical name. She 
 lived in stately apartments, as suited her rank. I saw^ men of 
 rank, and officers, and very smart people at her parties, but 
 very few ladies. She herself was the best talker of the party, 
 — more frequently in French than Italian. It happened that, 
 one evening, I went before the usual hour, and was some time 
 with her tete-a-tete. It was a lucky circumstance, for she spoke 
 more freely with me alone than she could in mixed company ; 
 and every word she said which concerned the late Queen was 
 worth recollecting. For, though the Marchioness might not be 
 an unexceptionable witness, where she could have a motive to 
 misrepresent, yet I should not disbelieve w^hat she said this 
 evening. Something led me to ask whether she had been in 
 England, when she smiled and said : " You will not think bet- 
 ter of me when I tell you that I went as a witness for your 
 Queen." — " But you were not summoned '? " — " no 1 I 
 could say nothing that was of use to her. All I could say was 
 that when I saw her in Italy, she was always in the society 
 that suited her rank ; and that I saw nothing then that was 
 objectionable. She requested me to go, and she was so un- 
 happy that I could not refuse her." — " You saw, then, her 
 Promireur-General, Monsieur Brougham." — "0 yes ! That 
 Monsieur Brog-gam was a grand coqidny — " Take care, Ma- 
 dame, what you say ; he is now Chancellor." — " N'importe ; 
 c'est un grand coquin." — " What makes you use such strong 
 language ] " — " Because, to answer the purposes of his ambi- 
 
152 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 tion, he forced the Queen to come to England." — " Indeed ! " 
 — " The Queen told me so ; and Lady Hamilton confirmed it. 
 I said to her when I first saw her, ' Why are you here 1 ' She 
 said : ' My lawyer made me come. I saw him at St. Omer, 
 and I asked him whether I should go to England. He said. 
 If you are conscious of your innocence, you micst go. If you 
 are aware of weaknesses, keep away.' " The Marchioness 
 raised her voice and said : " Monsieur, quelle femme, meme du 
 has peuple, avouera a son avocat qu'elle a des foiblesses ] 
 C'etoit un traitre ce Monsieur Brog-gam." I did not appear 
 convinced by this, and she added : ^^ One day I was alone with 
 him, when I said, ' Why did you force this unhappy woman 
 to come here '? ' He laughed, and replied : ' It is not my fault. 
 If she is guilty, I cannot make her innocent.' " 
 
 I also asked her whether she knew the other lawyer, Mon- 
 sieur Denman. The change in her tone was very remarkable, 
 and gave credibility to all she said. She clasped her hands, 
 and exclaimed, in a tone of admiration : "0, c'etoit un ange, 
 ce Monsieur Denman. II n'a jamais doute de Tinnocence de la 
 Reine." Though the Marchioness herself did not, at first, in- 
 timate any opinion on the subject of the Queen's guilt or inno- 
 cence, yet she spoke in terms of just indignation of the King, 
 and of her with more compassion than blame. 
 
 It was some weeks after this that I, being alone with Ma- 
 dame Sacrati, she again spoke of the Queen, and, to my sur- 
 prise, said she was convinced of her innocence, but inveighed 
 against her for her coarseness, and insinuated that she was 
 mad. This reminds me that dear Mary Lamb, who was the 
 very contrast, morally speaking, to Madame Sacrati, once said : 
 " They talk about the Queen's innocence. I should not think 
 the better of her, if I were sure she was what is called inno- 
 cent." There was a profound truth in this. She, doubtless, 
 meant that she thought more of the mind and character than 
 of a mere act, objectively considered. 
 
 June ISth. — I heard to-day from Niccolini an account of 
 his dealings with the Grand Duke. When his '^ Nabucco " 
 was published, by Capponi, the Emperor of Austria requested 
 the Grand Duke to punish Niccolini for it. The Grand Duke 
 replied to the Austrian Minister : " It is but a fable ; there are 
 no names. I will not act the diviner, to the injury of my 
 subject." Niccolini was Professor of History and Mythology, 
 in the Academy of Fine Arts, under the French. The pro- 
 fessorship was abolished on the Restoration, and Niccolini was 
 
U31.] ITALY. 153 
 
 made librarian ; but, being dissatisfied with the government 
 administration of the academy, he demanded his dismission. 
 The Grand Duke said : " Why so^ I am satisfied with you."- 
 He had the boldness to reply, " Your Highness, both must be 
 satisfied." And he did retire. But when the professorship 
 was restored, he resumed his office. 
 
 During the latter part of my residence in Italy, I was more 
 frequent than ever in my attendance at the theatres. And 
 one remark on the Italian drama I must not omit ; indeed, I 
 ought to have made it before, as it was forced on me at Na- 
 ples. There, every modern play, almost without exception, 
 was founded on incidents connected with judicial proceedings, 
 — a singular circumstance, easy to explain. In Naples es- 
 pecially, but in all Italy, justice is administered secretly, and 
 the injustice perpetrated under its abused name constitutes 
 one of the greatest evils of social life. Even when this is not 
 to be attributed to the government, or the magistrate, in the 
 particular case, the bad state of the law permits it to be done ; 
 and secrecy aggravates the evil, and perhaps even causes un- 
 just reproach to fall on the magistrate. Now, it is because 
 men's deep interest in these matters finds no gratification in 
 the publicity of judicial proceedings, that the theatre supplies 
 the place of the court of justice ; and, for a time, all the plots 
 of plays, domestic tragedies, turned on the sufferings of the 
 innocent falsely accused, — such as the Pie voleuse ; on as- 
 suming the name and character of persons long absent, like 
 the Faux Martin Guerre ; * the forging of wills, conflicting 
 testimony, kidnapping heirs, the return of persons supposed to 
 be dead, (fee, &c., — incidents which universally excite sympa- 
 thy. Our reports of proceedings in courts of justice, while 
 they keep alive this taste, go far towards satisfying it. In 
 other respects, the Italian stage is very imperfectly supplied 
 with a Repertoire, The frigid rhetoric of Alfieri has afforded 
 few subjects for the stage, and Niccolini still fewer. Gozzi is 
 forgotten ; and Goldoni, for want of a better author, is still 
 listened to. Rota is an inferior Kotzebue, w^ho has been a few 
 times translated and imitated ; and French comedy is less fre- 
 quently resorted to by the Italian playwrights than German 
 sentimentality, — much less than by the English dramatists. 
 So that there is not properly an Italian stage. The opera is 
 not included in this remark ; but that is not national. 
 
 * *' Histoire du Faux Martin Guerre. Vol. I. Causes Celebres et Interes- 
 •antes. Recueill^s par M. Gayot de Pitaval a la Haye. 1735." 
 
154 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 8. 
 
 At this time, the sanguine hopes entertained by the friends 
 of hberty, a short time before, in Italy, had subsided ; and the 
 more discerning already knew, what was too soon acknowl- 
 edged, that nothing would be done for the good cause of civil 
 and religious liberty by the French government. 
 
 I occasionally saw Leopardi the poet, a man of acknowledged 
 genius, and of irreproachable character. Ife was a man of 
 family, and a scholar, but he had a feeble frame, was sickly, 
 and deformed. He was also poor, so that his excellent quali- 
 ties and superior talents were, to a great degree, lost to the 
 world. He wanted a field for display, — an organ to exercise. 
 
 To refer once more to politics. The desire to see Italy unit- 
 ed was the fond wish of most Italian politicians. One of the 
 most respectable of them, Mayer, — not to mention any I was 
 at that time unacquainted with, — used to say, that he would 
 gladly see all Italy under one absolute sovereign, national in- 
 dependence being the first of blessings. 
 
 But this was not the uniform opinion. A scheme of a Con- 
 federation of Italian states was circulated in the spring, ac- 
 cording to which there was to be a union of Italian monar- 
 chies, consisting of nine states, of which Rome should be the 
 capital, each independent in all domestic matters, and having 
 a common revenue, army, customs, weights and measures, 
 coins, &c. These were to be Rome, Piedmont, Lombardy, 
 Venice, Liguria, Ravenna, Etruria, Naples, and Sicily. The 
 fortresses of the confederation were to be Venice, Alessan- 
 dria, Mantua, and Syracuse. To purchase the consent of 
 France to this arrangement, many Italians were willing to 
 sacrifice Savoy and Nice. 
 
 There was more plausibility, I thought, in the Abbe de 
 Pradt's scheme. He w6uld have reduced the number to three, 
 consisting of North, Central, and South Italy. Could this 
 ever be, there would be appropriate titles in Lombard- or 
 Nord-Italia, Toscan-Italia, and Napol-Italia, Harmless dreams 
 these, — that is, the names. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mr. Pattisson and his Sons. 
 
 Florence, June 14, 1831. 
 
 .... I really think it fortunate for my reputation that I 
 am out of the country. I should have lost my character had 
 I stayed there. I was always a moderate Reformer ; and, now 
 that success seems at hand, I think more of the dangers than 
 
 1 
 
1831.] ITALY. 155 
 
 the promises, I should never have been fit for a hustings 
 orator. My gorge rises at the cant of the day ; and finding 
 all the mob for Keform, I begin to suspect there must be some 
 hitherto unperceived evil in the measure. And it is only 
 when I go among the anti-Reformers, and hear the worse cant 
 and more odious impostures of the old Tory party, that I am 
 righted, as the phrase is, and join the crowd again. 
 
 To THE Same. 
 
 Turin, September 13, 1831. 
 
 .... I mfer, rather than find it expressly stated, that in 
 your family are pretty nearly all the varieties of opinion now 
 cm-rent in England. Jacob appears to me to have taken for 
 his oracles Lord Londonderry, Mr. Sadler, and Sir R. Ingiis, 
 the Oxford member. William wi'ites like a hopefi J and youth- 
 ful Reformer ; and you, with something of the timidity and 
 anxiety of old age (I may call yoit old, you know, without 
 offence, by my six months' seniority), you are afraid of the 
 consequences of your own former principles. To tell the truth 
 I am (and perhaps from the same cause) pretty much in the 
 same state. Now that the mob are become Reformers, I am 
 alarmed. Indeed, I have for years perceived this truth, that 
 it seems to be the great problem of all institutions to put 
 shackles as well on the people as on the government. I am so 
 far anti-democratic, that 1 would allow the people to do very 
 little ; but I would enable them to hinder a great deal. And 
 my fear is, that, under the proposed new House of Commons, 
 there wall be no check on popular passions. 
 
 On my way back to England, I spent neai'ly a fortnight at 
 Paris. During this fortnight, the most interesting occurrence 
 by far, and which I regret I cannot adequately describe, was 
 my attendance in the Salle St. Simonienne, at the service — or, 
 shall I say the performance ? — of that, the most recent sub- 
 stitute for Christian worship. This was, and still remains, the 
 last and new^est French attempt to supersede Christianity. In 
 my journal, I speak of it as " very national, very idle, very 
 ridiculous, possibly w^ell intentioned on the part of its leaders, 
 whose gi'eatest fault may be unconscious vanity." I go on in 
 my journal : " And 1 dare say destined to be very short-lived, 
 unless it can contrive to acquire a political character, and so 
 gain a permanent footing in France." In this I was not a 
 false prophet. But the doctrines of these fanatical unbelievers 
 
156 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBlNSON. [Chap. & 
 
 were mixed up in men's minds with the more significant and 
 dangerous speculations of Fourier, closely allied to politics, and 
 absorbed by them. Alfieri wisely says, addressing himself to 
 infidels : ^^ It is not enough to cry out, ^ It is all a fable,' in 
 order to destroy Christianity. If it be, invent a better." The 
 St. Simonites could not do this. In my journal I wrote : 
 " They have rejected the Christian Revelation, that is, its 
 supernatural vehicle, but their system of morals is altogether 
 Christian ; and this they dress out with French sentimentality, 
 instead of miracles and prophecy." I might have added, had 
 I thought of Germany at the time : ^' The German anti-super- 
 naturalists substituted metaphysics, critical or ideal, in the 
 place of sentimentality." 
 
 It was on SvMday, the 1st of October^ that I was present at 
 their /o7^c^^o?^, ecclesiastical or theatric. Their 5a//e was a neat 
 theatre ; the area, or pit, filled with well-dressed women ; the 
 scena occupied by the members of the society, who faced the 
 area. In the centre were two truncated columns ; behind these, 
 three arm-chairs ; in the centre one the orator, his assistants 
 at his side ; in front, three rows of galleries. I went early, 
 and had a front seat. When the leaders came, the members 
 rose. *^ Why so '^ " I asked of a plain man near me. ^' Cest 
 le Pape, le Chef de VEglise^^'' he answered, with great simplicity. 
 His Holiness, youngish and not genteel, waved his hand, rose, 
 and harangued for an hour or more. I heard distinctly, and 
 understood each word by itself, but I could not catch a distinct 
 thought. It seemed to be a rhapsody, — a declamation against 
 the abuses of our political existence, — a summary of the history 
 of mankind, such as any man acquainted with modern books, 
 and endowed with a flow of fine words, might continue uttering 
 as long as he had any breath in his body. For the edification of 
 the ladies and young men, there was an address to Yenus, and 
 also one to Jupiter. The only part of the oration which had 
 a manifest object, and which was efficient, was a sarcastic por- 
 trait of Christianity, not the Christianity of the Gospel, but 
 that of the Established Churches. This was the studied finale, 
 and the orator was rewarded by shouts of applause. 
 
 After a short pause he was followed by a very pale smock- 
 faced youth, with flaxen hair. I presumed that he delivered 
 his maiden speech, as, at the end of it, he was kissed by at least 
 ten of his comrades, and the unconcealed joy of his heart at the 
 applause he gained was really enviable. His oration was on 
 behalf of " La classe la plus nombr ease et la plus pauvre^'' which 
 
 i, 
 
1S31.J ITALY. 157 
 
 he repeated incessantlj^, as a genuine Benthamite repeats, ** The 
 greatest good of the greatest number." It was an exhortation 
 to charity, and, with a very few alterations, Hke those the 
 reader might have made in correcting the proofs at the printing- 
 office (such as the motive being the love of Christ, instead of 
 the love of one's neighbor), would have suited any of the thou- 
 sand and one charity sermons delivered every six months in 
 every great city, in all churches and chapels. Now in all this, 
 as there was nothing remarkable, so there was nothing ridicu- 
 lous, save and except that the orator, every now and then, 
 was congratulating himself on *' Ces nouvelles ideesP After 
 this short oration, there followed a conference. Two speakers 
 placed themselves in chairs, in the front of the proscenium ; 
 but they were of a lower class, and as I expected something 
 like the street dialogues between the quack and the clown, or, 
 at the best, what it seemed to be, a paraphrastic commentary 
 on the "novelties" of the young gentleman, I followed the exam- 
 ple of others, and came away. So I wrote twenty years ago. 
 My impression Avas a coiTect one. St. Simonism was suppressed 
 by the government of Louis Philippe. Its partisans were lost, 
 as I have already intimated, in the sturdier and coarser founders 
 of what has not been simply foolish but, in various ways, mis- 
 chievous, namely. Communism or Socialism. 
 
 I left Paris on the 4th of October, in the morning, and, 
 travelling all night, reached Calais the next morning. At 
 Meurice's Hotel, I heard of the death of Goethe. At the age 
 of eighty-two it could not be unexpected, and, as far as the 
 active employment of his marvellous talents is concerned, is not 
 to be regretted. Pie had done his work ; but though not the 
 extinction yet, to us, the eclipse of the mightiest intellect 
 that has shone on the earth for centuries (so, at least, I felt) 
 could not be beheld without pain. It has been my rare good 
 fortune to have seen a large proportion of the greatest minds 
 of our age, in the fields of poetry and speculative philosophy, 
 such as Wordsworth, Coleridge, Schiller, Tieck, but none that 
 I have ever known came near him. 
 
 On the 6th of October I crossed the Channel, and on the 7th 
 I reached London, too late to go to any of my friends. Hav- 
 ing secured a bed at the Old Bell, Holborn, and taken a late 
 dinner there, I went to the Procters', in Perceval Street, where 
 was my old friend Mrs. Collier, and the cordial reception I met 
 with from them cheered me. I returned to my inn, and was 
 awakened in the morning by the shout of the vociferous news- 
 men, ** The Lords have thrown out the Reform Bill ! " 
 
158 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN ENGLAND AGAIN. 
 
 OCTOBER lOtL— For the last three days there has been 
 a succession of agreeable feelings in meeting with my 
 old friends and acquaintance. Indeed these meetings will for 
 some time constitute my chief business. In the evening I 
 stepped into the Athenaeum to inquire the news, there being a 
 general anxiety in consequence of the important occurrence of 
 the night before, or rather of the morning. The Lords rejected 
 the Reform Bill by a majority of forty-one. The fact is in every 
 one's mouth, but I have not yet met with any one who ven- 
 tures to predict what the Ministry will do on the occasion. 
 
 I breakfasted w4th AVilliam Pattisson, and accompanied him 
 to Westminster Hall. He was engaged in an appeal to the 
 Lords, O'Connell on the other side. I shook hands with 
 O'Connell, and exchanged a few words with him. I was pleased 
 w4th his speech before the Chancellor. It was an appeal 
 against the Irish Chancellor's setting aside certain documents 
 as obtained by fraud. With great mildness of manner, address, 
 and discretion in his arguments, O'Connell produced a general 
 impression in his favor. 
 
 October 12th. — Finished the evening at the Athenaeum and 
 at Aders's. I found Mrs. Aders in some agitation, as one of 
 her friends had been in danger of being seriously hurt on the 
 balcony of her house by a large stone flung by the mob in the 
 afternoon. There had been an immense crowd accompanying 
 the procession with the addresses to the King on account of 
 the rejection of the Bill by the Lords. At the Athenseum, I 
 chatted with D'Israeli and Ayrton. Ayrton says, on authority, 
 that a compromise has taken place, and that the Bill is to pass 
 the Lords, with only a few modifications to save their charac- 
 ter. 
 
 October 16th. — Breakfasted at home, and late, so that it 
 was between one and two when I reached Lamb, having ridden 
 on the stage to Edmonton, and walked thence to Enfield. I 
 found Lamb and his sister boarding with the Westwoods, — 
 good people, who, I dare say, take care of them. Lamb has 
 rendered himself their benefactor by getting a place for their 
 
1831.] IN ENGLAND AGAIN. 159 
 
 son in Aders's counting-house. They return his services by at- 
 tention, which he and his sister need ; but he feels the want 
 of the society he used to have. Both he and Miss Lamb 
 looked somewhat older, but not more than almost all do whom 
 I have closely noticed since my return. They were heartily 
 glad to see me. After dinner, I was anxious to leave them 
 before it was dark, and the Lambs accompanied me, but only 
 for a short distance. Lamb has begged me to come after din- 
 ner, and take a bed at his house j and so I must. The evening 
 fine, and I enjoyed the walk to Mr. Relph's. The beauty of 
 the sky was not, indeed, that of Italy ; but the verdure was 
 English, and the succession of handsome houses, and the pop- 
 ulation of affluent people, quite peculiar to England. No other 
 country can show anything like it. These covered ways and 
 shady roads, with elegant houses at every step, each concealed 
 except in its immediate neighborhood, — how superior to the 
 flaring open scenery of the vaunted Vale of Arno ! 
 
 October 17th. — Went to Highbury by way of Perceval 
 Street. I arrived late at Mr. Bischoff 's, having mistaken the 
 dinner-time by an hour. Of little moment this. I found a 
 large party assembled to see the famous Brahmin, Rammohun 
 Roy, the Indian Rajah. 
 
 Rem,^ — Rammohun Roy published a volume entitled " The 
 Precepts of Jesus," closely resembling a work for which a 
 Frenchman was punished under Charles X., it being alleged 
 that to select the moral parts of the Gospel, excluding the 
 supernatural, must be done with the insidious design of recom- 
 mending Deism. That Rammohun Roy was a Deist, with 
 Christian morals, is probable. He took care, however, not to 
 lose caste, for the preservation of which the adherence to pre- 
 cise customs is required, not the adoption of any mode of 
 thinking. He died in the year 1833, and I was informed by 
 Mr. Crawford, who was acquainted with the Brahmin's man- 
 servant, that during the last years of his life he was assiduous- 
 ly employed in reading the Shasters, — the Holy Scriptures of 
 his Church. Voltaire says somewhere, that were he a Brahmin, 
 he would die with a cow's tail in his hand. Rammohun Roy 
 did not deserve to be coupled with the French scoifer in this 
 way. He was a highly estimable character. He believed as 
 much of Christianity as one could reasonably expect any man 
 would believe who was brought up in a faith including a much 
 larger portion of miraculous pretensions, without being trained 
 
 i * Written in 1851. 
 
160 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 or even permitted, probably, to investigate and compare evi- 
 dence. He was a fine man, and very interesting, though 
 different from what I expected. He had a broad laughing face. 
 He talked English very well, — better than most foreigners. 
 Unfortunately, when I saw him, he talked on European poli- 
 tics, and gave expression to no Oriental sentiment or opinion. 
 Not a word was said by him that might not have been said by 
 a European. This rather disappointed me ; so after dinner I 
 played whist^ of which I w^as ashamed afterwards. 
 
 October 22d, — At the Bury Quarter Sessions, I was invited 
 to dine at the Angel by the bar, but I refused the invitation, 
 and only went up in the evening ; then, however, 1 spent a few 
 hours very agreeably. Austin was the great talker, of course. 
 Scarcely anything but the Reform Bill talked of much. Praed, 
 the M. P., and new member of the circuit since my retirement, 
 was the only oppositionist. He spoke fluently, and not ill of 
 the bill. 
 
 Rem* — Praed died young. In one particular he was su- 
 perior to all the political young men of his time, — in taste 
 and poetical aspirations. His poems have been collected. I 
 am not much acquainted with them, but they are at least 
 works of taste. Praed had the manners of a gentleman. 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R. 
 
 Florence [received October, 1831]. 
 
 .... Miss Mackenzie tells me that she has lost some 
 money by a person in Paris. If she had taken my advice, she 
 would have bought a villa here, and then the money had been 
 saved. It appears that she has a garden, at least ; and this, 
 in my opinion, is exactly the quantity of ground that a wise 
 person could desire. I am about to send her some bulbs and 
 curious plants. Her sixty-two tuberoses are all transplanted 
 by the children : I have not one of these delightful flowers. I 
 like white flowers better than any others ; they resemble fair 
 women. Lily, tuberose, orange, and the truly English syrin- 
 ga, are my heart's delight. I do not mean to say that they 
 supplant the rose and violet in my affections, for these are our 
 first loves, before we grew too fond of considering, and too 
 fond of displaying our acquaintance with, others of sounding 
 
 titles 
 
 W. S. Landor. 
 
 * Written in 1852. I 
 
1831.] IN ENGLAND AGAIN. 161 
 
 November 1st. — Eead the papers at the coffee-house. Sad 
 account of a riot at Bristol. It is to be feared very bloody, — 
 a proof that the mob are ready to shed blood for the bill. 
 For what would they not shed blood % 
 
 November 5th. — I rode to Ipswich by an early stage, a new 
 one to me. I found the Clarksons as I expected. Mrs. Clark- 
 son thinner, but not in worse health than three years ago ; 
 and Clarkson himself much older, and nearly blind. They re- 
 ceived me most kindly, and we spent the whole afternoon and 
 evening in interesting friendly gossip. 
 
 November 6th. — I did not stir out of the house to-day. It 
 was wet, and I enjoyed the seclusion. I sat and read occa- 
 sionally, and at intervals chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson. 
 Mr. Clarkson gave me to read a MS., drawn up for his daugh- 
 ter-in-law, containing a summary of religious doctrines from 
 the lips of Jesus Christ. The chapter on future punishments 
 particularly interested me ; but I found that Mr. Clarkson had, 
 contrary to his intention, ^vritten so as to imply his belief in 
 the eternity of future punishments, which he does not believe. 
 He was anxious to alter this in his own hand, and with 
 great difficulty made the necessary alteration in one place. 
 
 November 10th. — Read this morning, in the July Quarterly 
 Revieiv, a most interesting, but to me humiliating, article on 
 the inductive philosophy, — Herschel's " Discourse on the 
 Study of Natural Philosophy " supplying the text. It is an 
 admirable and, even to me, delightful survey of the realms of 
 science ; the terra incognita appearing, if possible, to be the 
 most curious. It is remarkable that the more there is known, 
 the more it is perceived there is to be known. And the infin- 
 ity of knowledge to be acquired runs parallel with the infinite 
 faculty of knowing, and its development. Sometimes I feel 
 reconciled to my extreme ignorance, by thinking, if I know 
 nothing, the most learned know next to nothing. Yet, 
 
 " On this thought I Avill not brood, 
 .... it unmans me quite." 
 
 I never can be a man of science, but it is something to have a 
 disinterested love of science, and a pleasure in the progress 
 which others make in it. This is analogous to the baptism of 
 desire of the liberal Catholics, who give the means and possi- 
 bility of salvation to those who, though not actually baptized, 
 desire baptism, and would, if they could, be members of the 
 Church in which alone salvation is to be found. 
 
 November 15th. — Took tea with Miss Flaxman and Miss 
 
162 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 Dennian. They were in low spirits. Mr. Thomas Denman is 
 very dangerously ill, and Miss Flaxman has had a bad fall. 
 However, we fell into interesting conversation, and they 
 showed me Flaxman's notes written in Italy. His criticisms 
 on the works of art in Italy are a corroboration of the common 
 opinion ; but he speaks of a great work by one Gaddi as one 
 that, with a little less hardness and deeper shade, would have 
 been far superior to any of Eaphael's Holy Families. 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R 
 
 November 6, 1831. 
 
 . • . . I grieve at the illness of Coleridge, though I never 
 knew him. I hope he may recover ; for Death will do less 
 mischief with the cholera than with tlie blow that deprives 
 the world of Coleridge. A million blades of grass, renewable 
 yearly, are blighted with less injury than one rich fruit-tree. 
 I am in the habit of considering Coleridge, Wordsworth, and 
 Southey as three towers of one castle ; and whichever tower 
 
 falls first must shake the other two Since I saw you, I 
 
 have read in the Nexo Monthly Magazine the papers signed 
 " Elia." Mr. Brown lent me the book. The papers are ad- 
 mirable ; the language truly English. We have none better, 
 new or old. When I say, I am " sorry " that Charles Lamb 
 and his sister are suffering, the word is not an idle or a faint 
 one. I feel deep pain at this intelligence, — pain certainly not 
 disproportioned to the enjoyment I have received by their 
 writings. Besides, all w^ho know them personally speak of 
 them with much affection. Were they ever in Italy, or are 
 they likely to come % If so, I can offer them fruits, flowers, 
 horses, &c. To those who are out of health, or out of spirits, 
 this surely is a better country than England. I love green 
 fields, and once loved being wet through, in the summer or 
 spring. In that season, when I was a boy and a j^outh, I al- 
 ways walked with my hat in my hand if it rained ; and only 
 left off the practice when I read that Bacon did it, fearing to 
 be thought guilty of affectation or imitation. 
 
 I have made my visit to Miss Burney, and spent above an 
 hour with her. She is one of the most agreeable and intelli- 
 gent women I have met abroad, and spoke of you as all who 
 know you must speak. 
 
 I look forward with great desire to the time when you will 
 come again amongst ns. Arnold, who clapped his hands at 
 
1831.] IN ENGLAND AGAIN. 163 
 
 hearing I had a letter from you, ceased only to ask me : ** But 
 does not he say when he will come back '? " My wife and Ju- 
 lia send the same wishes 
 
 W. S. Landor. 
 
 Miss Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 Friday, December 1, 1831. 
 Had a rumor of your amval in England reached us before 
 your letter of yesterday's post, you w^ould ere this have re- 
 ceived a w^elcoming from me, in the name of each member of 
 this family ; and, further, would have been reminded of your 
 promise to come to Rydal as soon as possible after again setting 
 foot on English ground. When Dora heard of your return, 
 and of my intention to write, she exclaimed, after a charge 
 that I would recall to your mind your written promise : "He 
 must come and spend Christmas with us. I wish he would ! " 
 Thus, you see, notwithstanding your petty jarrings, Dora was 
 always, and now is, a loving friend of yours. I am sure I need 
 not add, that if you can come at the time mentioned, so much 
 the more agreeable to us all, for it is fast approaching ; but that, 
 whenever it suits you (for you may have Christmas engagements 
 with your own family) to travel so far northward, we shall be 
 rejoiced to see you; and, whatever other visitors we may chance 
 to have, we shall always be able to find a corner for yoii. 
 We are thankful that you are returned wdth health unimpaired, 
 — I may say, indeed, amended, — for you were not perfectly 
 well when you left England. You do not mention rheumatic 
 pains, so I trust they have entirely left you. As to your 
 being grown older, if you mean feebler in mind, — my brother 
 says : " No such thing ; your judgment has only attained 
 autumnal ripeness." Indeed, my dear friend, I wonder not at 
 your alarms, or those of any good man, whatever may have been 
 his politics from youth to middle age, and onward to the decline 
 of life. But I will not enter on this sad and perplexing sub- 
 ject ; I find it much more easy to look with patience on tlie 
 approach of pestilence, or any afiliction which it may please 
 God to cast upon us without the intervention of man, than on 
 the dreadful results of sudden and rash changes, whether aris- 
 ing fi:'om ambition, or ignorance, or brute force. I am, how^- 
 ever, getting into the subject without intending it, so will con- 
 clude with a prayer that God may enlighten the heads and 
 hearts of our men of power, w^hether Whigs or Tories, and that 
 
164 RF:MINISCENCES of henry CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 the madness of the deluded people may settle. This last 
 effect can only be produced, I fear, by exactly and severely 
 executing the law, seeking out and punishing the guilty, and 
 letting all persons see that we do not willingly oppress the 
 poor. One visible blessing seems already to be coming upon 
 us through the alarm of the cholera. Every rich man is now 
 obliged to look into the by-lanes and corners inhabited by the 
 poor, and many crying abuses are (even in our little town of 
 Ambleside) about to be remedied. But to return to pleasant 
 Rydal Mount, still cheerful and peaceful, — if it were not for 
 the newspapers, we should know nothing of the turbulence of 
 our great towns and cities ; yet my poor brother is often heart- 
 sick and almost desponding, — and no wonder ; for, imtil this 
 point at which we are arrived, he has been a true prophet as 
 to the course of events, dating from the " Great Days of July " 
 and the appearance of ^^ the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing 
 hut the Bill." It remains now for us to hope that Parliament 
 may meet in a different temper from that in which they parted, 
 and that the late dreadful events may make each man seek 
 only to promote the peace and prosperity of the country. You 
 will say that my brother looks older. He is certainly thinner, 
 and has lost some of his teeth ; but his bodily activity is not 
 at all diminished, and if it were not for public affairs, his spirits 
 would be as cheerful as ever. He and Dora visited Sir Walter 
 Scott just before his departure, and made sx little tour in the 
 Western Highlands ; and such was his leaning to old pedes- 
 trian habits, that he often walked from fifteen to twenty miles 
 in a day, following or keeping by the side of the little carriage, 
 of which his daughter was the charioteer. They both very 
 much enjoyed the tour, and my brother actually brought home 
 a set of poems, the product of that journey. 
 
 December 5th, — My morning was broken in upon, when 
 reading Italian, by calls from Jacob Pattisson, Shutt, and Mr. 
 Ptogers ; the last stayed long. Rogers spoke of two ai-tists 
 whom he knew in great poverty, — Gibson, now in Rome, a 
 rich man, and sculptor of fame, my acquaintance there, and 
 Chantrey, still richer, and of higher fame in the same art. 
 Chantrey, not long since, being at Rogers's, said, pointing to a 
 sideboard : " You probably do not recollect that being brought 
 to you by the cabinet-maker's man]" — '' Certainly not." — 
 " It was I who brought it, and it is in a great measure my 
 work." 
 
1831.] IN ENGLAND AGAIN. 165 
 
 Rem* — Rogers is noted for his generosity towards poor 
 artists. I have often heard him relate anecdotes which ought 
 not to be forgotten, and will not. They will be told more 
 elaborately, as well as more correctly, than I can pretend to 
 relate them. One only I set down here briefly. I heard it 
 first, a few years since, and several times afterwards. One 
 night he found at his door Sir Thomas Lawrence, in a state of 
 alarming agitation, who implored him to save the President of 
 the Academy from disgrace. Unless a few thousands could be 
 raised in twenty-four hours, he could not be saved ; he had 
 good security to offer ; drawings he would give in pledge, or 
 sell, as might be required. Rogers next day went to Lord 
 Dudley Ward, who advanced the money, and was no loser by 
 the transaction. 
 
 December 7th. — (Brighton.) Accompanied Masquerier to a 
 concert, which afforded me really a great pleasure. I heard 
 Paganini. Having scarcely any sensibility to music, I could 
 not expect great enjoyment from any music, however fine ; 
 and, after all, I felt more surprise at the performance than en- 
 joyment. The professional men, I understand, universally 
 think more highly of Paganini than the public do. He is 
 really an object of wonder. His appearance announces some- 
 thing extraordinary. His figure and face amount to carica- 
 ture. He is a tall slim figure, with limbs which remind one 
 of a spider ; his face very thin, his forehead broad, his eyes 
 gray and piercing, with bushy eyebrows, his nose thin and 
 long, his cheeks hollow, and his chin sharp and naiTow. His 
 face forms a sort of triangle. His hands the oddest imagina- 
 ble, fingers of enormous length, and thumbs bending back- 
 wards. It is, perhaps, in a great measm-e from the length of 
 finger and thumb that his fiddle is also a sort of lute. He 
 came forward and played, from notes, his ovvm compositions. 
 Of the music, as such, T know nothing. The sounds were 
 wonderful. He produced high notes very faint, which resem- 
 bled the chirruping of birds, and then, in an instant, with a 
 startling change, rich and melodious notes, approaching those 
 of the bass-viol. It was difficult to believe that this great va- 
 riety of sounds proceeded from one instrument. The effect 
 was heightened by his extravagant gesticulation and whimsical 
 attitudes. He sometimes played with his fingers, as on a harp, 
 and sometimes struck the cords with his bow, as if it were a 
 drum-stick, sometimes sticking his elbow into his chest, and 
 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
166 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 9. 
 
 sometimes flourishing his bow. Oftentimes the sounds were 
 sharp, hke those of musical glasses, and only now and then 
 really delicious to my vulgar ear, which is gratified merely by 
 the flute and other melodious instruments, and has little sense 
 of harmony. 
 
 December 13th. — Accompanied the Masqueriers to a Mr. 
 Rooper's, in Brunswick Square, a nephew of Malone. We went 
 to look at some paintings by Sir Joshua Reynolds. One of 
 Dr. Johnson greatly delighted Masquerier. He thinks it the 
 best he has ever seen of Johnson by Sir Joshua. The Doctor 
 is holding a book, and reading like a short-sighted man. His 
 blind eye is in the shade. There is no gentility, no attempt 
 at setting off" the Doctor's face, but no vulgarity in the por- 
 trait. That of Sir Joshua, by himself, is a repetition of the 
 one so frequently seen. He has spectacles as broad as mine. 
 There is also a full-length of the Countess of Sutherland, a 
 fine figure and pretty face. Mr. Rooper showed us some inter- 
 esting books, and volunteered to lend me a very curious col- 
 lection of MS. letters, all written by eminent persons, political 
 and literary, all addressed to Mr. Malone, and a great many 
 on occasion of his Life of Windham.* There is one by Dr. 
 Johnson, a great many by Sir Joshua Reynolds, Kemble, Lord 
 Charlemont ; and notes by an infinity of remarkable people. 
 I have yet merely run over one half the collection. It inter- 
 ested me greatly. 
 
 December IJfth. — I w^as employed in the forenoon looking 
 over Mr. Rooper's MS. letters belonging to Malone : some by 
 Lord Charlemont curious. Some anonymous verses against 
 Dr. Parr were poignant. The concluding lines are not bad as 
 an epigram, though very unjust. They might be entitled : — 
 
 A RECIPE. 
 
 To half of Busby's skill in mood and tense, 
 
 Add Bentley's pedantry without his sense; 
 
 Of Warburton take all the spleen you find, 
 
 And leave his genius and his wit behind ; 
 
 Squeeze Churchill's rancor from the verse it flows in, 
 
 And knead it stiff with Johnson's heavy prosing; 
 
 Add all the piety of Saint Voltaire, 
 
 Mix the gross compound, — Fiat Dr. Parr. 
 
 Spent the evening pleasantly at Copley Fielding's, the 
 water-color painter, a man of interesting person and very pre- 
 possessing manners. He showed me some delightful draw- 
 ings. 
 
 * " A Biographical Memoir of the Life of the Right Honorable William 
 Windham. London. 1810, 8vo." 
 
1831.] IM ENGLAND AGAIN. 167 
 
 December 16th. — To-day I finished Hazlitt's '^ Conversations 
 of Northcote." I do not believe that Boswell gives so much 
 good talk in an equal quantity of any part of his *' Life of 
 Johnson." There is much more shrewdness and originality in 
 both Northcote and Hazlitt himself than in Johnson ; yet all 
 the elderly people — my friend Amyot, for instance — would 
 think this an outrageous proof of bad taste on my part. I do 
 believe that I am younger in my tastes than most men. I can 
 relish novelty, and am not yet a laudator temporis aclL 
 
 December 20th. — Went to the play, to which I had not 
 been for a long time. It gives me pain to observe how my 
 relish for the theatre has gone off. It is one of the strongest 
 indications of advanced age. 
 
 Rem.^ — It was not altogether, however, the fault of my 
 middle age. I believe that, even now, could Mrs. Siddons or 
 Mrs. Jordan revive, my enjoyment would revive too. Power, 
 however, gave me more pleasure than Johnstone ever gave me, 
 though Johnstone was thought perfect in Irish characters. 
 
 December 26th, — I found my way to Fonblanque's, beyond 
 Tybum Turnpike, and dined with him, self-invited. No one 
 but his wife there, and the visit was perfectly agreeable. In- 
 deed he is an excellent man. I believe him to be not a mere 
 grumbler from ill-humor and poverty, as poor Hazlitt was to a 
 great degree, but really an upright man, wath an honest dis- 
 gust at iniquity, and taking delight in giving vent to his in- 
 dignation at wrong. His critical opinions startle me. He is 
 going to introduce me to Jeremy Bentham, which will be a 
 great pleasure. 
 
 December 31st, — At half past one went by appointment to 
 see Jeremy Bentham, at his house in Westminster Square, and 
 walked with him for about half an hour in his garden, when 
 he dismissed me to take his breakfast and have the paper read 
 to him. I have but little to report concerning him. His per- 
 son is not what I expected. He is a small man.f He stoops 
 very much (he is eighty-fom*), and shuffles in his gait. His 
 hearing is not good, yet excellent considering his age. His eye 
 is restless, and there is a fidgety activity about him, increased 
 probably by the habit of having all round fly at his command. 
 He began by referring to my late journey in Italy, and, by 
 
 * Written in 1852. 
 
 t I shonld have said otherwise from the impression he left on me, as well as 
 fix)m the effect produced by his skeleton, dressed in his real clothes, and with 
 a waxen face, preserved by his own desire. — H. C. R., 1852. [It is now lo- 
 cated at University College, London.] 
 
168 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10 
 
 putting questions to me, made me of necessity the talker. 
 He seems not to have made Italian matters at all his study, 
 and, I suspect, considers other countries only with reference 
 to the influence his books and opinions may have had and 
 have there. He mentioned Filangieri as a contemptible writer, 
 who wrote after himself; and said he had the mortification of 
 finding him praised, while he himself was overlooked. I gave 
 him my opinion as to the political character of the French 
 Ministry, and their purely selfish policy towards Italy, which 
 he did not seem to comprehend. He inquired about my pro- 
 fessional life ; and spoke of the late Dr. Wilson (whom I recol- 
 lect seeing when I was a boy) as the first of his disciples. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 1832. 
 
 REM.^ January 28th. — A dinner at Stephen's. Thia 
 party was chiefly remarkable for my seeing Senior, the 
 Oxford Professor of Political Economy, and Henry Taylor, then 
 under Stephen in the Colonial Office. Taylor is known as lit- 
 erary executor of Southey, and author of several esteemed 
 dramas, especially " Philip van Artevelde." He married Lord 
 Monteagle's daughter. He is now one of my most respected 
 acquaintance. His manners are shy, and he is more a man of 
 letters than of the world. He published a book called " The 
 Statesman," which some thought presumptuous in a junior 
 clerk in a government office. Amyot told me that Henry 
 Taylor proposed to the committee of the Athenaeum to open 
 the club-house as a hospital in the time of the cholera ! 
 
 February 9th, — On my way to Hampstead I read an ac- 
 count of the celebration of Goethe's Goldener Juheltag, being 
 the 7th of November, 1825, fifty years after his entrance into 
 Weimar in the service of the Duke. The narrative is interest- 
 ing even to pathos. 
 
 February 12th, — Carlyle breakfasted with me, and I had an 
 interesting morning with him. He is a deep-thinking Ger- 
 man scholar, a character, and a singular compound. "His voice 
 and manner, and even the style of his conversation, are those 
 
 * Written in 1853. . 
 
1832.] CARLYLE. — J. S. MILL. — DUKE OF SUSSEX. 169 
 
 of a religious zealot, and he keeps up that character in his 
 declamations against the anti-religious. And yet, if not the 
 god of his idolatry, at least he has a priest and prophet of his 
 church in Goethe, of whose profound wisdom he speaks like an 
 enthusiast. But for him, Carlyle says, he should not now be 
 alive. He owes everything to him ! But in strange union with 
 such idolatry is his admiration of Buonaparte. Another object 
 of his eulogy is — Cobbett, whom he praises for his humanity 
 and love of the poor ! Singular, and even whimsical, combina- 
 tions of love and reverence these. 
 
 March Sd. — I had received an invitation to dine with Fon- 
 blanque, and Romilly being of the party, I agreed to walk with 
 him from University College, where we had been at a meeting 
 of the Council. We were joined by John Mill, certainly a 
 young man of great talent. He is deeply read in French poli- 
 tics, and spoke judiciously enough about them, bating his, to 
 me, unmeaning praise of Robespierre for his incomparable 
 talents as a speaker, — being an irresistible orator, — and the 
 respect he avowed for the virtues of Mirabeau. Romilly, too, 
 talked interestingly on the same , subject. Mirabeau was the 
 friend of Sir Samuel Romilly, as well as of the Genevan Du- 
 mont. 
 
 March 8th, — I walked to Enfield, and found the Lambs in 
 excellent state, — not in high health, but, what is far better, 
 quiet and cheerful. Miss Isola* being there, I could not sleep 
 in the house ; but I had a comfortable bed at the inn, and I 
 had a very pleasant evening at whist. Lamb was very chatty, 
 and altogether as I could wish. 
 
 March 2JfOu — Yesterday I had a melancholy letter from 
 Wordsworth. He gives a sad account of his sister, and talks 
 of leaving the country on account of the impending ruin to be 
 apprehended from the Reform Bill ! 
 
 I dined with Amyot. Ayrton and Ellis (of the Museum) 
 there. An agreeable dinner. In the evening, John Collier 
 joining us, we all drove to Kensington Palace, where the Duke 
 of Sussex gave his second conversazione this season, and where 
 I was more amused than I expected. There were opened some 
 eight or ten rooms, generally small, and all filled with books. 
 No gilding or other finery of a Court, but the air of a gen- 
 tleman's house, — unostentatious, comfortable, and elegant. 
 
 * Granddaughter of Isola, a language-master at Cambridge. She was a 
 kind of adopted daughter of Charles Lamb, who left the residue of his property 
 to her after Marv Lamb*s death. She is now the respected wife of Moxon. — 
 H. C. R., 1852. " 
 
 VOL. II. 8 
 
170 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 There were probably several hundred persons there. The only 
 man I looked for was Schlegel, with whom I had a short chat. 
 He spoke with love of Goethe, and with esteem of Flaxman, 
 but not of his lectures, and regi^etted that they should have 
 been accompanied by such bad stone drawings. I had a talk 
 with the Bishop of Chichester (Maltby). He spoke of Phill- 
 potts's late speech on the Irish Education question as a very 
 able one. I saw also Eammohun Roy and Talleyrand, — the 
 other stars, — and Sir Eobert Peel, and many eminent men of 
 science, noblemen, and Members of Parliament. We came 
 away between eleven and twelve. 
 
 S. Naylor, Jun., to H. C. R. 
 
 Oxford, March 24, 1832. 
 Goetlieh ^^FausV is finished!^ Madame Goethe has listened 
 to it, as delivered by the mellow tones of the mighty poet 
 himself, and says it is " extraordinarily fine, and full of the 
 glow of youth." I will not offer you any alloy with this metal 
 from the mine. 
 
 April 2d. — I read a canto of Dante early. My nephew- 
 called and brought the news of Goethe's death. Though at 
 his age the event could not be far off, the departure of the 
 mightiest spirit that has lived for many centuries awakens 
 most serious thought. I had lying by me three letters for 
 Weimar and Jena, and resolved not to alter them, but put 
 them in the post to-day. They were addressed to Madame 
 Goethe, Voigt, and Knebel. 
 
 April 12th. — Saw Coleridge in bed. He looked beautifully, 
 • — his eye remarkably brilliant, — and he talked as eloquently 
 as ever. His declamation was against the Bill. He took 
 strong ground, resting on the deplorable state to which a 
 country is reduced when a measure of vital importance is ac- 
 ceded to merely from the danger of resistance to the popular 
 opinion. 
 
 April IJfth. — Quayle, the nephew, Mr. Gunn, who came un- 
 expectedly, and W. Pattisson breakfasted with me. We had 
 heard the news. The Reform Bill carried by nine : seven were 
 votes by proxy ; therefore of these only two a real majority. 
 
 * The actual writing of "Faust" began in 1773 or 1774, though it had 
 already been for some time in Goethe's mind. The second part was not com- 
 pleted till the summer of 1831. This great work occupied its author, from time 
 to time, through a period of fifty-seven years. .,. 
 
 \ 
 
1832.] GOETHE'S WORKS CATALOGUED. — HIS DEATH. 171 
 
 But even of the majority, many must be of the class who avow 
 themselves enemies to the Bill, and declare they mean to vote 
 against many of its chief provisions. And yet the Morning 
 Chronicle calls this a triumph ! This is being grateful for small 
 favors. 
 
 Rem,^ — Early in April an occupation was found me, which 
 lasted about a year, and which flattered me with the notion 
 that I was not altogether useless. I received an application 
 from William J. Fox, then editor of the Monthly Repository, 
 now M. P. for Oldham in Lancashire, to furnish him with a 
 paper on Goethe. I was flattered by the application, though 
 accompanied by the intimation that the editor could not afford 
 to pay. I gladly undertook the task, and made the ofter, 
 readily accepted on his part, to furnish a catalogue raisonne 
 of all Goethe's works. A few of the more celebrated of the 
 works are characterized at some length ; but as these papers 
 are in print, I need not write of them here.f About the time 
 they were finished, Mrs. Austin was engaged in compiling a 
 translation of several pamphlets, under a title I suggested to 
 her, of ^'Characteristics of Goethe." This also I reviewed in 
 the Monthly Repository. % After the completion of these 
 papers, I was applied to by Bellenden Ker to supply an article 
 of biography for the Lives to be published by the Useful 
 Knowledge Society ; and I, in consequence, wrote the article 
 "Goethe," in Vol. lY., an abridgment of the Monthly Re- 
 pository articles. It was followed by a like paper on Schil- 
 ler. I may find no better opportunity for stating that all 
 the anecdotes inserted in the notes to the Goethe papers 
 have a reference to myself, I being the friend who supplied 
 them. 
 
 Professor F. S. Voigt to H. C. R. (Translation.) 
 
 Jena, 19th April, 1832. 
 Dear Robinson : — 
 
 .... Goethe's death has especially filled my thoughts for 
 some weeks. I visited him for the last time in the past year 
 in his garden (where you and I saw him together three years 
 ago), and as I left him, and returned through the meadow-land, 
 I watched him for a long time going up and down his terrace 
 
 * Written in 1853. 
 
 t These Papers appeared in nine numbers of the Monthly Bepositcyry, begin- 
 ning in May, 1832, and ending in April, 1833. 
 X Monthly Repository, March, 1834. 
 
172 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 in his dressing-gown, — an old shrunken man, in good spirits 
 indeed, but with a body bowed down by years ; and I thought 
 how many an English lady, who perhaps has pictured him as 
 an Apollo or a Jupiter, would be shocked at this sight. I can- 
 not refrain, my dear friend, from giving you a passage from a 
 letter of his, dated January 9, 1831. A short time previously 
 he had been very ill, and I had congratulated him on his re- 
 covery. Thereupon he wrote to me about my literary work 
 (an edition of Cuvier's Regne Animal)^ and about his own 
 desire to take part in the controversy, between Cuvier and 
 Geoffrey St. Hilaire ; and then he closed, as follows, his long 
 letter : " With your dear wife, my worthy countrywoman, retain 
 your kindly feelings towards a friend, who rejoices in himself 
 that it was permitted him for this time to turn his back to the 
 wild ferryman." 
 
 On the quiet, though public, ceremony of his funeral, I shall 
 write nothing. You will, doubtless, read of it in extenso in 
 the newspapers, which on this occasion have given a very 
 faithful account. AU was in the highest degree solemn. At 
 the lying in state he was in a half-sitting position. In the last 
 hours of his life, when he was no longer able to speak, he 
 composedly formed letters in the air. His physician says he 
 could twice distinctly recognize the letter W, which I interpret 
 to be " Weimar." 
 
 When I was at Frankfort in 1834, Charlotte Serviere told 
 me, with apparent faith, that Madame [a blank in the MS.], 
 a woman of great intelligence, was in Goethe's house at 
 the time of his death, and that she and others heard sweet 
 music in the air. No one could find out whence it came. In 
 the eyes of the religious Goethe was no saint, but rather a 
 Belial, or corrupt spirit, who was rendered most dangerous 
 by his combination of genius and learning with demoniacal 
 influence. 
 
 May Jfilu — I continued at home till it was time to go to 
 the King's College, where Lyell delivered his introductory 
 lecture on Geology, of which I understood scarcely anything, 
 — but I liked what I did understand. Before he himself 
 made the observation, he had led me to the conclusion that 
 the science teaches no heginning. There is, as far as anything 
 can be inferred, a constant succession of operations by fire and 
 water. He took care to limit this remark to inorganic matter, 
 asserting that there are proofs of a beginning of organic sub- 
 
1632.] LANDOR. — REFORM BILL PASSED. 173 
 
 stances. He decorously and boldly maintained the propriety 
 of pursuing the study without any reference to the Scriptiu-es ; 
 and dexterously obviated the objection to the doctrine of the 
 eternity of the world being hostile to the idea of a God, by 
 remarking that the idea of a world which carries in itself the 
 seeds of its own destruction is not that of the w^ork of an all- 
 wise and powerful Being. And geology suggests as little the 
 idea of an end as of a beginning to the world. 
 
 May 13th. — Paynter * breakfasted with me. He was scarcely 
 gone before Landor called. He arrived from Florence yester- 
 day. A long and interesting chat on English politics. He had 
 nothing to communicate on foreign matters. When he left 
 me, I went to the Athenaeum. It seemed the universal opin- 
 ion — and yet I cannot believe it — that the Duke will, as 
 Prime Minister, continue the very measure which he protested 
 against in such strong terms but a few days ago. This I am 
 unwilling to credit. The Ministry are not yet declared, and the 
 King has postponed till Thursday the answer to the address of 
 the Commons, and also of the City of London. To-morrow 
 something will be known. 
 
 May 14th. — I went to the Athenaeum, and read in the 
 Standard an elaborate justification of the Duke, assuming that 
 he was about to pass the Bill. Now I believe in the fact. Late 
 at night I was told of the conversations in the House of Com- 
 mons, from which it appears by no means improbable that the 
 old Ministry will return to place. [N. B. — Paynter coming in 
 at this moment confirms this, as the representative of the 
 Times. ^ 
 
 May 15th. — Going to Jaffray's, I found them in high spirits 
 on account of the declaration in Parliament this evening that 
 the King had sent for Lord Grey, which leads every one to con- 
 sider the return of the Whigs as certain. 
 
 June Jfth. — This evening the Parliamentary Reform Bill 
 passed the Lords, and was the same evening taken to the 
 Commons ! "Is the deed done, my lord % " said I to Bishop 
 Phillpotts. He said " Yes " ; and with great good-humor 
 talked on the subject. He even praised the speech of Lord 
 Grey this night as a very good one. 
 
 June 7th. — This day will form an epoch in the history of 
 England. The Royal Asse7it was given to the Reform Bill I 
 
 * A barrister on H. C. R.'s circuit, and afterwards a police magistrate. 
 He was of an ancient Cornish family. He was a valued friend of H. C. B 
 They saw a great deal of each other, and were frequent correspondents. 
 
174 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildings, July 13, 1832. 
 My dear Friend : — 
 
 .... Thinking of old age, and writing to you, I am, by a 
 natural association of ideas, reminded of the great poet lately 
 dead in Germany. As one of his great admirers, I wished but 
 for one quality in addition to his marvellous powers, — that he 
 had as uniformly directed those powers in behalf of the best 
 interests of mankind as you have done. Deeply interested 
 in your welfare, and fully aware that your continued health 
 and activity of mind are the concern, not only of your private 
 friends and family, but also of the country, and of the litera- 
 ture of our language, I have no other desire than that you may 
 retain your powers as he did his. Goethe began his study of 
 Oriental literature and wrote his " West-Eastern Divan " in his 
 sixty-fourth year ! He died in his eighty -third, in the full 
 possession, not of his imaginative powers, but of his powers of 
 thought ; and he interested himself in all the current literature 
 of Europe to the last. He was very animated in the discussion 
 of some points of natural history the evening before his death, 
 and died with a book in his hand. His last words were an ex- 
 pression of his enjoyment of the sunshine, and the return of 
 spring. When Ludwig Tieck was in England, some eight 
 years ago (he is incomparably the greatest living poet in Ger- 
 many), I read to him the two sonnets, *' On Twilight," and 
 ** On Sir George Beaumont's Picture." He exclaimed, " Das 
 ist ein Englischer Goethe ! " — (That is an English Goethe.) 
 
 July 2Sd. — I walked to Enfield to see Charles Lamb. I 
 had a delightful walk, reading Goethe's " Winckelmann," and 
 reached Lamb at the lucky moment before tea. Miss Isola 
 was there. After tea. Lamb and I took a pleasant walk 
 together. He was in excellent health and in tolerable spirits, 
 and was to-night quite eloquent in praise of Miss Isola. He 
 says she is the most sensible girl and best female talker he 
 knows. 
 
 July 2Jfih. — I read Goethe in bed. I was, however, sum- 
 moned to breakfast at eight, and after breakfast read some 
 Italian with Miss Isola, whom Lamb is teaching Italian with- 
 out knowing the language himself 
 
 September 24th. — I went with Landor to Flaxman's. La,ndor 
 was most extravagant in his praise, — would rather have one 
 of Flaxman's drawings than the whole of the group of Niobe. 
 
1832.] LANDOR AND THE LAMBS. — LADY BLESSINGTON. 175 
 
 Indeed, ** most of those figures, all but three, are worthless," 
 and Winckelmann he abuses for praising this sculpture, and 
 Goethe, he says, must be an ignoramus for praising Winckel- 
 mann. 
 
 September 28th, — Landor breakfasted with me, and also 
 Worsley, who came to supply Hare's place. After an agree- 
 able chat, we drove down to Edmonton, and walked over the 
 fields to Enfield, where Charles Lamb and his sister were ready 
 dressed to receive us. We had scarcely ^n hour to chat with 
 them ; but it was enough to make both Landor and Worsley 
 express themselves delighted with the person of Mary Lamb ; 
 and pleased with the conversation of Charles Lamb, though I 
 thought him by no means at his ease, and Miss Lamb was 
 quite silent. Nothing in the conversation recollectable. 
 Lamb gave Landor White's '^Falstaff^'s Letters."* Emma 
 Isola just showed herself Landor was pleased with her, and 
 has since written verses on her. 
 
 Between nine and ten, I went by Landor's desire to Lady 
 Blessington's, to whom he had named me. She is a charming 
 and very remarkable person ; and though I am by no means 
 certain that I have formed a lasting acquaintance, yet my two 
 interviews have left a delightful impression. 
 
 Lady Blessington is much more handsome than Countess 
 Egloff'stein, but their countenance, manners, and particularly 
 the tone of voice, belong to the same clas^. Her dress rich, 
 and her library most splendid. Her book about Lord Byron 
 (now publishing by driblets in the New Monthly Magazine), 
 and her other writings, give her in addition the character of a 
 hel esprit. Landor, too, says, that she was to Lord Blessington 
 the most devoted wife he ever knew. He says also, that she 
 was by far the most beautiful woman he ever saw, and was so 
 deemed at the Court of George IV. She is now, Landor says, 
 about thirty, but I should have thought her older. She is a 
 great talker, but her talk is rather narrative than declamatory, 
 and very pleasant. She and Landor were both intimate with 
 Dr. Parr, but they had neither of them any mot of the Doctor 
 to relate to match several that I told them of him ; indeed, in 
 the way of bom mots, I heard only one in the evening worth copy- 
 
 * One of the earliest of Lamb's friends was his school-fellow James White. 
 He was the author of a small volume entitled " Original Letters of Sir John 
 FalstafF and his Companions." These letters are ingenious imitations of the 
 style and tone of thought of the Shakespearian knight and his friends. The 
 book was published in 1796. Lamb reviewed it in the Examiner after White's 
 death. 
 
176 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 ing. I should have said, there were with Lady Blessington her 
 sister, a Countess Saint Marceau, and a handsome Frenchman, 
 of stately person, who speaks English well, — Count d'Orsay. 
 He related of Madame de Stael, whose character was discussed, 
 that one day, being on a sofa with Madame Eecamier, one who 
 placed himself between them exclaimed : ^' Me voil^ entre la 
 beaute et I'esprit ! " she replied : *' That is the first time I was 
 ever complimented for beauty ! " Madame Recamier was 
 thought the handsomest woman in Paris, but was by no means 
 famed for esprit. 
 
 Nearly the whole of the conversation was about Lord By- 
 ron, to whose name, perhaps. Lady Blessington's will be 
 attached when her beauty survives only in Sir Thomas Law- 
 rence's painting, and in engravings. She, however, is by 
 no means an extravagant admirer of Lord Byron. She went 
 so far as to say that she thinks Leigh Hunt gave, in the main, 
 a fair account of him. Not that she knows Leigh Hunt. 
 
 The best thing left by Lord Byron with Lady Blessington 
 is a copy of a letter written by him in the name of Fletcher, 
 giving an account of his own death and of his abuse of his 
 friends ; humor and irony mingled with unusual grace. She 
 says Lord Byron was aware that Medwin meant to print what 
 he said, and purposely hummed him. 
 
 September 29th, — I walked out with Landor, in search of 
 a conveyance to Highgate. We camre eastward, took soup at 
 Groom's, and then hired a cab, which took us to Coleridge's. 
 We sat not much more than an hour with him. He was hor- 
 ribly bent, and looked seventy years of age ; nor did he talk 
 with his usual force, though quite in his usual style. A great 
 part of his conversation was a repetition of what I had heard 
 him say before, — an abuse of the Ministry for taking away 
 his pension. He spoke of having devoted himself, not to the 
 writing for the people, which the public could reward, but for 
 the nation, of which the King is the representative. The stay 
 was too short to allow of our entering upon literary matters. 
 He spoke of Oriental poetry with contempt, and he showed his 
 memory by alluding to Landor's juvenile poems. Landor and 
 he seemed to like each other. Landor spoke in his dashing 
 way, which Coleridge could understand. 
 
 October 2d, — A day of great trouble. I shall not soon, I 
 trust, suffer such another. By the post arrived a letter 
 from Jacob Pattisson. His brother and the bride had been 
 drowned in the Lac de Gaube, near Cauterets, in the Pyrenees. 
 
1832.J BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM DROWNED. 177 
 
 This sad news had arrived through a Mr. Alexander, a gentle- 
 man accidentally on the spot. 
 
 Rem,* — William Pattisson, the eldest son of my old friend, 
 having been called to the bar,t married the sister of a partner 
 in Esdaile's Bank, a Miss Thomas. Before the marriage, he in- 
 formed me that his future wife wished that their marriage ex- 
 cursion should be to the Pyrenees, and he asked me for an 
 itinerary. I lent him my journal. He showed it to the 
 courier who attended them, and said that he had resolved to 
 follow in the course pursued in that book, in a reversed order, 
 beginning where I ended, at Pau. His intentions, how- 
 ever, were awfully frustrated. He and his lady proceeded 
 through the South of France to Pau, and slept for the last 
 time at Caterets. On arriving at the Lac de Gaube, they saw 
 a broad boat lying by the shore ; the fisherman who usually 
 rowed the boat had died a few nights before, and there was no 
 one to take the oars. 
 
 Pattisson and his bride stepped in. They had no servant 
 with them. He rowed into the middle of the lake. Then 
 some spectators on the shore saw him standing up, and a shriek 
 was heard, and he fell back into the water. His wife, rushing 
 towards him, fell over also. About the middle of the day, an 
 English barrister, a Mr. Alexander, coming down the moun- 
 tain, on the opposite side, saw something white on the water, 
 and sent his guide to see what it was, while he was taking his 
 luncheon. The guide came back saying that an English mi 
 lor and mi ladi were drowned. 
 
 Alexander went to the shore, and was there when Mrs. Pat- 
 tisson's body floated to the bank. He gave directions to some 
 peasants to prepare a sort of raft, on which it was taken to the 
 hotel. There he learned who the deceased were. He gave di- 
 rections to have the bodv embalmed, and sent the fatal news 
 to England; The distracted father spared neither trouble nor 
 cost to obtain the other body, which, however, was not recov- 
 ered till several weeks afterwards, when it rose to the surface. A 
 monument is erected on the spot whence they embarked, and a 
 marble mural bas-relief in Witham Church. My friend and his 
 son Jacob came up to London when the fatal news arrived. I 
 accompanied Mr. Pattisson on his return to Witham, and when 
 the bodies arrived, I attended the funeral. The whole town 
 manifested their sympathy with the unhappy family of sur- 
 vivors. 
 
 • Written in 1853. f Se« Vol. I. p. 295. 
 
 8* 
 
178 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 10. 
 
 October 8th, — Looking over Lawrence's Life. The criticism 
 on the picture of William and Jacob Pattisson does not appear 
 to me unjust. The heads are exquisite, but the composition I 
 always thought bad. There w^ere amusing anecdotes accom- 
 panying the taking of the portrait, one of which I have been 
 reminded of this morning. Jacob being restless, Mrs. Pattis- 
 son said, " I fear, Mr. Lawrence, Jacob is the worst sitter you 
 ever had." — '' no, ma'am, I have had a worse." — " Ay, 
 you mean the King," said the boy (Lawrence had been speak- 
 ing of George IIL as a bad sitter.) — ^* no," said Lawrence, 
 " it was a Newfoundland dog ! " The boy was not a little 
 affronted. 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R. 
 
 Frankfort, October 20, 1832. 
 
 .... At Bonn I met Mr. William Schlegel. He resembles 
 a little pot-bellied pony tricked out with stars, buckles, and 
 ribbons, looking askance from his ring and halter in the mar- 
 ket, for an apple from one, a morsel of bread from another, a 
 fig of ginger from a third, and a pat from everybody. Among 
 other novelties, he remarked that Niebuhr was totally unfit for 
 a historian, and that the battle of Toulouse was gained by the 
 French ; a pretty clear indication that he himself will never 
 rise into the place which (he tells us) Niebuhr ought not to 
 occupy. He must surely be an admirable poet who can floun- 
 der in this way on matters of fact. The next morning I saw 
 the honest Arndt, who settled the bile this coxcomb of the 
 bazaar had excited. To-day I passed before the house of your 
 friend Goethe, — the house where he was born. I lifted off 
 my hat and bowed before it. 
 
 December 28th, — I called on the Countess of Blessington. 
 Old Jekyll was with her. He recognized me, and I stayed in 
 consequence a considerable time. I am invited generally to 
 go in the evening, which I shall sometimes do, but not soon or 
 frequently. The conversation w^as various and anecdotic, and 
 several matters were related worth recollecting, but I made 
 other calls afterwards, so that all have escaped me. Lady 
 Blessington spoke of Lord Byron's poem on Rogers, which is 
 announced. It will kill Rogers she says. It begins, — 
 
 ** With nose and chin that make a knocker, 
 With wrinkles that defy old Cocker." 
 
 1 
 
1833.] A BYRON MONUMENT. — MISS KELLY. 179 
 
 And his whole person is most malignantly portrayed. It con- 
 cludes with a sneer. It being asked by what he is known, — 
 
 '* Why, he made a pretty poem." 
 
 Lady Blessington says Lord Byron spared no one, — mother, 
 wife, or friend. It was enough to raise his bile to praise any 
 one in his presence. He would instantly fall abusing the 
 friend that left him. Lady Blessington read a most ludicrous- 
 ly absurd letter from an American, giving an account of a 
 Byron monument to be formed of brass and flint, and covered 
 with great names. Lady Blessington was solicited to contrib- 
 bute an Andenken, and was promised that her name should 
 have a prominent place. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 1833. 
 
 JANUARY 31st — I had a pleasant few hours in the Strand 
 Theatre. Miss Kelly gave a performance by herself of 
 dramatic recollections and imitations. She looked old and 
 almost plain, and her singing was unpleasant, but some parts 
 of the performance were very agreeable indeed. I am sure 
 that the prologue and a great part of the text were written by 
 Charles Lamb. Other parts, especially a song, I believe to be 
 by Hood. What I particularly enjoyed were the anecdotes of 
 John Kemble, and his kindness to her when a child. Her 
 eulogy of him was affecting. Her admiring praise of Mrs. 
 Jordan was also delightful. Less cordial and satisfactory her 
 mention of Mrs. Siddons. She related that when as Constance 
 Mrs. Siddons wept over her, her collar was wet with Mrs. Sid- 
 dons's tears. The comic scenes were better, I thought, than 
 the sentimental. I liked particularly an old woman, a Mrs. Par- 
 thian, who had lost her memory, and spoke of Gentleman Smith, 
 whom she had known in her youth. " His name was Adam 
 Smith. He wrote some pretty songs on political economy, and 
 people used to whisper about his addresses having been reject- 
 ed, — I forget by ^\»hom ; but it was some one at Drury Lane." 
 This I thought like one of Lamb's jokes ; as well as another, 
 in which the keeper of a caravan of wild beasts asks for orders, 
 as being of the profession. She condescends to notice Miss 
 
180 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 Kelly as the best in her line, but makes a comparison of her 
 "beasteses" with actors in favor of her own. Is not this 
 Lamb's]* 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 February 5, 1833. 
 
 .... I am come to that time of life when I must be pre- 
 pared to part with or precede my dearest friends ; and God's 
 will be done You mistake in supposing me an anti- 
 Reformer ; that I never was, but an anti-Bill-man, heart and 
 soul. It is a fixed judgment of my mind, that an unbridled 
 democracy is the worst of all tyrannies. Our constitution had 
 provided a check for the democracy in the regal prerogative, 
 influence, and power, and in the House of Lords, acting direct- 
 ly through its own body, indirectly by the influence of individ- 
 ual peers, over a certain portion of the House of Commons. 
 The old system provided, in practice, a check both without 
 and within. The extension of the nomination boroughs has 
 nearly destroyed the internal check. The House of Lords 
 have been trampled upon by the way in which the Bill has 
 been carried ; and they are brought to that point that the 
 peers will prove useless as an external check, while the regal 
 power and influence have become, or soon will, a mere shadow. 
 
 In passing through Soho Square, it may amuse you to call 
 in upon Mr. Pickersgill, the portrait-painter, where he will be 
 gratified to introduce you to the face of an old friend. Take 
 Charles and Mary Lamb there also. 
 
 February 2Jfth. — At the Athenaeum, where I had an inter- 
 esting conversation with Hudson Gurney. He talks freely of 
 himself, and I am not betraying confidence in writing down 
 the following minutes. His mother was a Barclay, and his 
 grandfather a grandson of the famous author. By him he was 
 brought up a Quaker, and his first opinions or feelings were 
 High Tory. His grandfather, though a Quaker, had inspired 
 him with a great hatred of the Presbyterians. His favorite 
 pursuit, rivalled only by a love of leaping over five-barred 
 gates, was heraldry ; and his first hatred of the French Revo- 
 lution was probably more stimulated by the decree abolishing 
 liveries and arms than anything else. ^Jis great delight in 
 London, when a boy, was looking at the carriages going to the 
 
 * It is afterwards mentioned that Reynolds, and not Lamb, was the author 
 of the text of "Miss Kelly's Recollections." 
 
1833.] ETYMOLOGY OF MASS. 181 
 
 levee or drawing-room. But he never saw the people within ; he 
 looked only at the panels. However, about the year 1794-5, 
 when at Norwich, he had for about sixteen months an in- 
 terlude of Jacobinism and infidelity, inspired by the violent 
 men of the day. From Jacobinism he was driven by observ- 
 ing what tyrants, without exception, all the heroes of the 
 Liberty party were. He was cured of his infidelity by But- 
 ler's "Analogy." He had read before a great deal of meta- 
 physics. Butler showed him how far he could go. He has 
 made, he says, no advances ever since. He then forswore all 
 metaphysics, and has kept his oath ; but he still has a great 
 love for everything in the shape of an experience. He con- 
 curred with me in the praise of John Woolman, of whose writ- 
 ings he says he has thought of publishing an edition, with 
 notes ; " But now," he added, " my mind is gone." In spite 
 of his early religious education, he never liked the " Pilgrim's 
 Progress," disliking allegory. 
 
 March 7th [Rem. ) * — At the Society of Antiquaries this 
 evening. Lord Aberdeen President, an incident occurred which 
 greatly interested me at the moment, and which is worth be- 
 ing related in detail, if anything be which concerns myself. A 
 few weeks before this time, John Gage, the Director of the 
 Society, calling on me, I incidentally remarked to him that I 
 found he had, in a late paper in the Archceologia, adopted the 
 vulgar error that the Latin Missa, and all the cognate words, 
 Mass, Messe, &c., were derived from the concluding words of 
 the mass dismissing the congi'egation, — Ite, missa est ; I 
 pointed out the al)surdity of deriving a very important word 
 from an insignificant part of a formal instrument ; the essence 
 of the sacrament being the bread and wine, as be had himself 
 acknowledged to be the fact. And I interested him by inform- 
 ing him how I first came to perceive this, by being told in 
 Germany that Kirmess, a parish festival, was an abridgment 
 of Kirchmess, or church feast, being the feast day of the pa- 
 tron saint. It flashed upon my mind at once that Messe must 
 mean feast ; and I cited Michaelmas as proving it, being the 
 feast, of St. Michael, Christmas the feast of Christ, &c. From 
 this moment I had but to seek for formal evidence to prove 
 what was manifest. Mr. Director on this begged me to throw 
 the matter of this new etymology into a paper, which, he said, 
 the Society would be glad of And this evening it was read. 
 There is no doubt it was flippant in style, and it was read very 
 
 * Written in 1853. 
 
182 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1L 
 
 badly ; but it gave offence, not because it was dull or obscure, 
 but because it was said to be irreverent. Lord Bexley and the 
 Bishop of Bath and Wells were there. Perhaps the evil was 
 aggravated by there being an audible laugh at the closing 
 words of the paper, ''' Ite^ missa est.^^* 
 
 March 10th, — I went on reading " Hermann and Dorothea," 
 which I have just finished. I hold it to be one of the most 
 delightful of all Goethe's works. Not one of his philosophical 
 works, which the exclusives exclusively admire, but one of the 
 most perfectly moral as well as beautiful. It realizes every 
 requisite of a work of genius. I shed tears over it repeatedly, 
 but they were mere tears of tenderness at the perfect beauty 
 of the characters and sentiments. Incident there is none. 
 
 April 9th, — I reached the Lambs at tea-time. I found 
 them unusually well in health, but not comfortable. They 
 seem dissatisfied in their lodgings ; but they have sold all their 
 furniture, and so seem obliged to remain as they are. I spent 
 the evening playing whist ; and after Lamb and his sister 
 went to bed, I read in his album (Holcroft's " Travels " pasted 
 with extracts in MS. and clippings out of newspapers, &c.). 
 Lamb savs that he can write acrostics and album verses, and 
 such things, at request, with a facility that approaches that of 
 the Italian Improvisatori ; but that he has great difficulty in 
 composing a poem or piece of prose which he himself wishes 
 should be excellent. The things that cost nothing are worth 
 nothing. He says he should be happy had he some literary 
 task. Hayward has sent him his " Faust." He thinks it well 
 done, but he thinks nothing of the original. How inferior to 
 Marlowe's play ! One scene of that is worth the whole ! What 
 has Margaret to do with Faust ? Marlowe, after the original 
 story, makes Faust possess Helen of Greece ! 
 
 Ajyf^il 16th, — Mr. Denman called with the news that Miss 
 Flaxman died this morning about three o'clock. I was not 
 surprised by this intelligence. Life had lost all its charms for 
 her, and her constitution was entirely broken. An easy death 
 was all her friends could wish for her, and that she seems to 
 have been blessed with. She was an excellent person, and I 
 sincerely regret her loss. 
 
 * The paper, which had really no value whatever, as actually read, appears 
 now to more advantage in the " Arch^eologia," Vol. XXVI. p. 242. AH the 
 evidence was collected after the paper was read; and the collateral remarks 
 on the German origin of Italian words, taken from the great Italian scholar 
 of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries (Muratori), and the incidental 
 proofs cited, render the paper amusing as well as instructive. Scarcely a 
 page is now what it originally was. — H. C. R. 
 
1833.] ROYAL ACADE]\IY. — MALIBRAN. 183 
 
 April 25th, — I did not rise till it was time to dress to go 
 to Miss Flaxman's funeral. It is worthy of notice that, in 
 consequence of the mortality of the season through influenza, 
 it was with great difficulty that a mourning-coach could be 
 procured. The burial took place in St. Giles's Churchyard. 
 It was a ceremony I felt to be a comfort in the respect shown 
 to the very relics of humanity. 
 
 May IJf-th. — Went with Mrs. Aders to the Exhibition. 
 Only three or four pictures which I wish to recollect. A monk 
 confessing to another monk. A marvellous expression, singu- 
 lar contrast of feeling, in spite of similarity of dress and a like 
 emaciation. The fingers of both skinny and cramped, all agi- 
 tation and compression, but still most dissimilar. One of the 
 most striking pictures I ever saw. This is by Wilkie. He 
 has also a portrait of the Duke of Sussex, — a good likeness. 
 No man comes near Wilkie this year, though both Uwins and 
 Eastlake have fine pictures. Uwins tells very clearly the tale 
 of a nun taking the veil, and Eastlake has a beautiful group 
 of trembling Greeks on the sea-shore, — Turks hastening to 
 massacre them, an English boat advancing to their rescue. 
 There are some delightful landscapes by Callcott. 
 
 May SOth, — I went with Mrs. Aders to Pickersgiirs, to see 
 his portrait of Wordsworth. It is in every respect a fine pic- 
 ture, except that the artist has made the disease in Words- 
 worth's eyes too apparent. The picture wants an oculist. In 
 the evening, being unsettled, I went to Drury Lane Theatre at 
 half price. An opera, — " La Sonnambula." I saw Malibran. 
 Her acting in the scene in which, after a sleep-walking (which 
 was very disagreeable), she awakes and sees her lover or hus- 
 band, was exquisite. Her love and joy were expressed by ad- 
 mirable pantomime. Such artless fondness I never saw on 
 the stage. 
 
 May SI St. — I accompanied Mrs. JafFray to the Marquis of 
 Westminster's to see his pictures. The pleasure of seeing 
 them was rather enhanced than diminished by my better ac- 
 quaintance with the great masterpieces in Italy. " There are 
 some delightful specimens of Claude here, which are equal to 
 any on the Continent. There are also capital Rembrandts and 
 Rubenses. It is true there are but few of the great Italian 
 masters, yet Guido's " Fortune " (a duplicate) is one of the 
 most beautiful pictures I know. Westall was with George 
 Young there, and I could hear him giving the preference in 
 coloring to Sir Joshua's Mrs. Siddons over every picture in the 
 
184 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 room. *' The Blue Boy " of Gainsborough is a delicious paint- 
 ing. Wilkie was in the room, — a thorough Scotchman in his 
 appearance. 
 
 June 9th. — (Liverpool.) At twelve I got upon an omni- 
 bus, and was driven up a steep hill to the place where the 
 steam-carriages start. We travelled in the second class of 
 carriages. There were five carriages linked together, in each 
 of which were placed open seats for the traveller, four and four 
 facing each other ; but not all were full ; and, besides, there 
 was a close carriage, and also a machine for luggage. The 
 fare was four shillings for the thirty-one miles. Everything 
 went on so rapidly, that I had scarcely the power of observa- 
 tion. The road begins at an excavation through rock, and is 
 to a certain extent insulated from the adjacent country. It is 
 occasionally placed on bridges, and frequently intersected by 
 ordinary roads. Not quite a perfect level is preserved. On 
 setting off there is a slight jolt, arising from the chain catch- 
 ing each carriage, but, once in motion, we proceeded as 
 smoothly as possible. For a minute or two the pace is gentle, 
 and is constantly var}^ing. The machine produces little smoke 
 or steam. First in order is the tall chimney ; then the boiler, 
 a barrel-like vessel ; then an oblong reservoir of water ; then a 
 vehicle for coals ; and then comes, of a length infinitely ex- 
 tendible, the train of carriages. If all the seats had been 
 filled, our train would have carried about 150 passengers ; but 
 a gentleman assured me at Chester that he went with a thou- 
 sand persons to Newton fair. There must have been two en- 
 gines then. I have heard since that two thousand persons and 
 more went to and from the fair that day. But two thousand 
 only, at three shillings each way, would have produced £ 600 ! 
 But, after all, the expense is so great, that it is considered un- 
 certain whether the establishment will ultimately remunerate 
 the proprietors. Yet I have heard that it already yields 
 the shareholders a dividend of nine per cent. And bills have 
 passed for making railroads between London and Birmingham, 
 and Birmingham and Liverpool. What a change will it pro- 
 duce in the intercourse ! One conveyance will take between 
 100 and 200 passengers, and the journey will be made in a 
 forenoon ! Of the rapidity of the journey I had better ex- 
 perience on my return ; but I may say now, that, stoppages 
 included, it may certainly be made at the rate of twenty miles 
 an hour ! 
 
 I should have observed before that the most remarkable 
 
1S33.] SOUTHEY ON POLITICS AND MORALS. 185 
 
 movements of the journey are those in which trains pass one 
 another. The rapidity is such that there is no recognizing the 
 features of a traveller. On several occasions, the noise of the 
 passing engine was like the whizzing of a rocket. Guards are 
 stationed in the road, holding flags, to give notice to the drivers 
 when to stop. Near Newton I noticed an inscription record- 
 ing the memorable death of Huskisson. 
 
 June IJfth. — (x^mbleside.) I reached the Salutation Inn 
 by a quarter after five in capital spirits, took tea in the com- 
 mon room, and then strolled up to Rydal Mount, where I met 
 with a cordial reception from my kind friends; but Miss 
 Wordsworth I did not see. I spent a few hours very delight- 
 fully ; enjoyed the improved walk in Mr. Wordsworth's garden, 
 from which the views are admirable ; and had most agreeable 
 conversation, with no other drawback than Miss Wordsworth's 
 absence from the state of her health. 
 
 June 27th. — Went to Southey's, where I passed a very 
 agreeable evening, — a compensation for the bad weather of 
 the forenoon. I had a cordial reception from the Laureate, 
 and found the whole family very amiable. There was a large 
 party, — that is, for the country. 
 
 With Southey I had a long and amicable chat on all kinds of 
 subjects. On politics, he was, if anything, rather more vio- 
 lent than Wordsworth. He spoke with indignation of the old 
 Tory branch of the administration, such as Lord Palmerston, 
 &c., and declared Stanley * to be the most dangerous man 
 amongst them. On the whole, I could not greatly differ from 
 him ; his greatest fault being that, like almost all, he is one- 
 sided. 
 
 June 28th. — Went to Southey's, and had a long and agree- 
 able desultory chat with him. He read me copious additions to 
 " The Devil's Walk," only too earnest. His articles in the 
 Quarterly Review would make twelve such volumes as the two 
 of moral and political essays already published. We went over 
 many interesting subjects of discussion. 
 
 I am now looking over ^iiss Wordsworth's Scotch journal. 
 She travelled with her brother and Coleridge. Had she but 
 filled her volume with their conversation, rather than minute 
 description ! 
 
 One saying of Coleridge is recorded. Seeing a steam- 
 engine at work. Miss Wordsworth remarked that it was im- 
 possible not to think it had feeling, — a huge beam moved 
 
 ♦ The present Lord Derby. 
 
186 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 slowly up and down. Coleridge said it was like a giant with 
 one idea. 
 
 June SOih, — Spent an agreeable evening again with South ey. 
 We read German, and had the same sort of political and moral 
 conversation as before. Southey is a most amiable man, and 
 everything I see in him pleases me. Speaking of the possi- 
 bility of punning with a very earnest and even solemn feeling, 
 he mentioned a pious man of the name of Hern, who, leaving 
 a numerous family unprovided for, said in his last moments : 
 "God, that won't suffer a sparrow to fall to the gi'ound unheeded, 
 will take care of the HernsP 
 
 July Jfih, — Southey read me a curious correspondence be- 
 tween himself and Brougham, soon after the latter became Chan- 
 cellor. Brougham (w^ho, by the by, signed *^ H. Brougham") 
 begged Southey to give him his opinion on the sort of patron- 
 age which, usefully and safely, might be given by the govern- 
 ment to literature. South ey's answer was very good, — cutting, 
 with all the forms of courtesy. Alluding to the new order, 
 which was given at the time to some distinguished men of 
 science, Southey wrote : " Should the Guelphic order be made 
 use of as an encouragement to men of letters, I, for my part, 
 should choose to remain a Ghibelline.*' This was repeated, 
 as a good joke, by Sydney Smith to a friend of Southey's. 
 Brougham probably, therefore, took the letter in good part. 
 He is, in fact, a good-natured man. He did not reply to 
 Southey's letter. 
 
 July 7th, — Lord Egremont, having lately set about making 
 a preserve of the mountains, a petition was sent to him by the 
 inhabitants, alleging (among other objections) that this w^ould 
 produce a race of poachers. Southey told me that he added to 
 his name : " Who never carries a gun ; and who thinks that 
 this is not a time when it is expedient to stretch feudal privi- 
 leges ; especially in countries where they have never been ex- 
 ercised." 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss Wordsworth. 
 
 October 16, 1833. 
 
 .... Bath is sanctified to my feelings. In one of the most 
 delicious spots imaginable, fronting the glen, at the upper end 
 of which is the uncongenial and ostentatious Prior Park, where 
 Pope's Allen lived, but out of sight of the deforming ornament, 
 is Whitcomb Churchyard. And there, more than forty years 
 ago, were deposited the remains of my dearest, earliest, and, 
 
1833.] INSOLENT HEALTH. — SCOTCH JOURNEY. 187 
 
 to my affections, latest of kindred, — my mother, an admirable 
 woman, whose image is as fresh now to me as it was when I 
 took leave of her in January, 1793. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Masquerier. 
 
 Plowden Buildings, 19th October, 1833. 
 I heard applied to you, the other day, by an invalid (George 
 Young), very coarse words of abuse, which I ought, perhaps, to 
 have resented. He said you were insolent or impudent in your 
 health, I forget which. 1 overlooked the affront. The poor 
 are the natural enemies of the rich ; we must therefore pardon 
 the aged and the diseased if they vent their ill-will on us hearty 
 young fellows. I, too, am swaggering with health, — some 
 portion of it picked up in that blessed land 
 
 Where all, whom huuger spares, of age decay. 
 
 I was absent more than four months. It would fill up my 
 paper were I to enumerate all the famous places I saw. There- 
 fore, take my account in the form of a school lesson in geography. 
 My journey was bounded by Peel Castle, in the Isle of Man to 
 the west, by Inverness to the north, and Aberdeen to the east. 
 
 You cannot accuse me of hurrying this time through the 
 country. I did not meet with a single unpleasant incident on 
 the journey, and had a vast deal of enjoyment. First, I spent 
 several weeks in Westmoreland and Cumberland. And Words- 
 worth accompanied me to Man, Staffa, and lona. I copy you 
 a sonnet, which even you and your Scotch wife (on account of 
 the subject) will feel the beauty of* It is, I think, the most 
 perfect sonnet in the language. Every word is as a gem, from 
 the pathetic light in the first, to the soft Parthenope in the last, 
 line. It is composed with that deep feeling and perfection of 
 style united that bespeak the master. 
 
 After seeing Staffa, and the Caledonian Canal, and wearying 
 myself on the east coast of Scotland, — a frightful country, — 
 I went down the Deeside to Braemar, an interesting country. 
 And from Perth made a pedestrian tour through the Perth 
 Highlands, t I stayed nine da^^s at Edinburgh. In variety 
 
 - * *' On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott for Naples." 
 
 t A guide told me of the Marquis of Breadalbane's castle, that it was to 
 have been built on a height, but an old woman remonstrated with the laird 
 against the folly of choosing so cold and dreary a spot, where her own peat 
 hut was. Being asked where, then, it should be, she answered: " Build where 
 you hear the thrushes sing." The advice was taken. — H. C. R. 
 
188 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 of interesting objects, I know no place equal to it, — not even 
 Naples, though there is an intensity of feeling raised by the 
 Italian cities, which the cold climate of Auld Reekie at once 
 represses. There was no great feat in transporting the holy 
 house from Palestine to Loretto ; but it would be something 
 to clap Edinburgh on the shore of the Adriatic or Mediterra- 
 nean, per Bacco I professors and all, with their political econo- 
 my and all other economies. The poor Italian would stand no 
 chance with so acute and prudent a people. 
 
 The south of Scotland has also its beauties. Wordsworth's 
 poems, " Yarrow Unvisited and Visited," made me quite long 
 to see that district. Accordingly, after visiting a hospitable 
 laird on the Tweed, I went over the mountain on a cygnet 
 chase : — 
 
 " The swan on still Saint Mary's Lake 
 Floats double, swan and shadow." 
 
 But, alas ! there were no swans to be seen. Wordsworth 
 says they ought to have been there. But I did recognize the 
 lines, 
 
 " What 's Yarrow but a river bare. 
 Gliding the dark hills under? " 
 
 I ought not to omit saying that, when at Edinburgh, I wit- 
 nessed a manifestation of the spirit. I never heard antino- 
 mianism so outrageously and mischievously preached. It was 
 in effect and tendency an exhortation not to be deluded by 
 the folly of supposing that God liked any one the better for 
 being moral. '' So you think (do you 1) that you can get God's 
 peace by wrapping yourself up in the filthy rags of your own 
 righteousness, do you ] Eh ! " This was a fellow named Car- 
 lyle, and he was interrupted by a maniac, who screamed out, 
 " There HI be hurnings ! " and he stamped with his feet, and 
 put himself into the attitude of the fighting gladiator. And 
 this lasted for a quarter of an hour ! 
 
 21st -J- I must close this letter in a tone very different from 
 its commencement. I have sustained another loss. Dear 
 Mrs. Collier died yesterday. I was not unprepared for the 
 event. She died, as Mary Flaxman died, without any suffer- 
 ing whatever. She was one of the most amiable and estima- 
 ble women I ever knew. Her crowning virtue was, that she 
 lived for others ; therefore all others loved her. Towards me 
 she was all kindness : I owe years of comfort to her care. 
 Her last years were the happiest of her life. She was perfect- 
 ly satisfied with her children. Only the day before her death, 
 
1883.] IN THE ISLE OF MAN WITH WORDSWORTH. 189 
 
 Mary said, '^ I hope my mother will live long to plague me ; 
 I cannot do enough for her. No one ever had such a mother." 
 Mrs. Collier had often said to me, " My children are too good." 
 These are consolations under affliction. 
 
 July IJfih. — (Isle of Man.) At Bala-sala we called on Mr. 
 and Mrs. Cookson,* esteemed friends of the Words worths (vide 
 '' Yarrow Revisited," p. 205). I had seen Mrs. Cookson at 
 Kendal formerly : there is something very prepossessing in 
 her person and manners. At Bala-sala are the remains of an 
 ancient abbey (Rushen Abbey), a stream, and many trees, — 
 a contrast to the nakedness of the adjacent country. Here 
 we lounged more than an hoiu*.t We arrived at dusk at Cas- 
 tletown, the legal capital of the island ; but it is a poor little 
 
 village in a bay, much less beautiful than Douglas 
 
 Turned over a book of the Mona Statutes, which much amused 
 me, — the style original. Some expressions are worth record- 
 ing. It is ordered that persons outlawed shall not be inlaived 
 without the King's permission, whose title at one time was, 
 " The Honorable Sir Thomas Stanley, Knight, Lord and King 
 of Man." The isle is divided into " sheddings " (German, 
 Scheidungen, — boundaries or separations). The judges are 
 called " deemsters," that is, doomsters, or pronouncers of 
 judgment. The title of the King is " our doiightful Lord." 
 'The place of proclaiming the law is the " Tinwald." " Tin " 
 is said to mean ^' proclamation," and " wald," '^fenced round." 
 This, too, is German ; so that the Manx language seems to 
 have some Teutonic affinities. 
 
 * Parents of the executor of both Wordsworth and H. C. R. 
 t And as the poet thought of his friend, and looked on the scene 
 
 " Where ancient trees this convent-pile enclose, 
 In ruin beautiful," 
 
 the Sonnet, No. XX., of Poems connected with a tour in the summer of 1833 
 
 was suggested, — 
 
 " And when I note 
 The old tower's brow yellowed as with the beams 
 Of sunset ever there, albeit streams 
 Of stormy weather-stains that semblance wrought, 
 I thank the silent monitor, and say, 
 * Shine so, my aged brow, at all liours of the day ! * " 
 
 H. C. R. had pleasure in recollecting that he was present at the conception 
 of this sonnet, for on the spot Wordsworth likened the color on the " old 
 tower" to perpetual sunshine. 
 
190 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1L 
 Mrs. Clarkson to H. C. E. 
 
 October 23, 1833. 
 
 Miss Hutchinson tells me that Coleridge was at Cambridge 
 at the late assemblage of wise men^ and, though not able to rise 
 till the afternoon, he had a crowded levee at his bedside. 
 
 Before I left home I had been reading over heaps of old 
 letters. Dear Dorothy Wordsworth's contain the history of 
 the family, and of her exertions. What a heart and what a 
 head they discover 1 What puffs we hear of women, and even 
 of men, who have made books and done charities, and all that, 
 but whose doings and thinkings and feelings are not to be 
 compared with hers ! Yet one man deserves all the incense 
 which his memory has received, — good Mr. Wilberforce 1 
 
 October 24-th, — Chatted at the Athenaeum with Hare, who 
 is returned from Rome. He preached a sermon that made a 
 noise there, on the text, '' W^hat went ye out for to see I" which 
 was thought absurd by many. It was an attack on the. numer- 
 ous visitors there for their idle conduct. He laughed at the 
 
 anecdote I related to him from Mrs. D , who overheard a 
 
 couple of bloods going out of the church. " What did you 
 come fori " — ** 0, damme, I came for snipe-shooting ! " 
 
 December 2d. — (Cambridge.) My Italian friend, Mayer 
 (to whom I have been showing some of the videnda of 
 Cambridge), had an opportunity to-day of seeing what was* 
 to him more interesting, perhaps, than the College prayers at 
 Trinity Chapel, at which Handel's music was performed. This 
 was a row occasioned by an assault on the anatomical theatre. 
 A body for dissection had been brought in, — and the mob 
 have not yet learned, even here at a University, to respect 
 anatomy.. They were driven out of the field by the gowns- 
 men, who would not suffer any superstition but their own ; 
 for an Oxford Don and a Cambridge Soph alike adopt the 
 motto. Tarn Mcirti quam Mercurio, and are not apt to let devo- 
 tion to intellectual pursuits interfere with exercises of a 
 robust description. The spirit of our undergraduates must 
 have seemed to Mayer quite as natural, if not as laudable, as 
 their piety, supposing the latter to be genuine, — and far bet- 
 ter if it be conventional. 
 
 1834. 
 
 January 6th. — Breakfasted with Rogers and his sister by 
 in\dtation. With them was Stuart Rose, a deaf and rheumatic 
 
1834.] S. ROGERS. — THOUGHTS ON THEOLOGY. 191 
 
 man, who looks prematurely old. He talks low, so I should 
 not have guessed him to be a man of note. Rogers was very 
 civi] to me. He is famous for being a good talker. I can re- 
 cord nothing, perhaps, that deserves notice ; but still his 
 conversation was pleasant to recollect. His most solid remark 
 was on literary women. How strange it is, that while we men 
 are modestly content to amuse by our writings, women must be 
 didactic ! Miss Baillie writes plays to illustrate the passions. 
 Miss Martineau teaches political economy by tales, Mrs. Mar- 
 cet sets up for a general instructor, not only in her dialogues 
 but in fairy stories, and Miss Edgeworth is a schoolmistress in 
 her tales. We talked chiefly of literary and public men. 
 Eogers praised Lord Liverpool for his liberality, which he 
 learned, late in life, of Canning and Huskisson. When young, 
 he was the butt of his companions. At Christ's College, Cam- 
 bridge, there being a party at some gownsman's (I believe 
 Canning), he broke in, "I am come to take tea with you." 
 — *' No, you are going to the pump ! " And the threat was 
 carried out. Yet he who suftered such indignity became 
 Prime Minister. Rogers made inquiries about Wordsworth 
 with obvious interest. He related an anecdote I never heard 
 of, — that Wordsworth had an accident which drove entirely 
 out of his head a fine poem, of which Mrs. Wordsworth un- 
 luckily at the same time lost the copy. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mr. Benecke. 
 
 January 26, 1834. 
 
 I have read your work* with mixed feelings of satisfaction 
 and uneasiness, but in which the agreeable largely predomi- 
 nate. I have never attempted to conceal from you that my 
 mind is very unsettled on the great points of religion, and 
 that I am still what the Quakers call a seeker. I was very 
 ill educated, or rather I had no regular instruction, but heard 
 what are called orthodox notions preached in my childhood, 
 when I, like other children, believed all tbat I heard uncontra- 
 dicted. But before I was twenty years old, I met with anti- 
 religious books, and had nothing to oppose to sceptical argu- 
 ments. I sprang at once from one extreme to another, and 
 from believing everything I believed nothing. My German 
 studies afterwards made me sensible of the shallowness of the 
 
 * Probably " Der Brief Pauli an die Komer erliiutert von Wilhelm Benecke." 
 Heidelberg, 1831. 
 
192 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 whole class of writers whom I before respected,— one good ef- 
 fect they wrought on me ; they made me conscious of my own 
 ignorance, and inclined me to a favorable study of religious 
 doctrines. After this, your conversation awakened my mind to 
 this very important and salutary doubt. It occurred to me 
 that it might possibly be, that certain notions which I had re- 
 jected as absolute falsehoods were rather ill stated, erroneously 
 stated, and misunderstood truths, than falsehoods. Or rather, 
 that possibly there might be most important truths hidden, as 
 it were, behind these misrepresentations. Now this impression 
 has been greatly advanced and improved by yoin* book, and I 
 am in consequence most anxious to pursue this inquiry, — in 
 which I flatter myself that you will kindly give me your aid, 
 — and for that purpose I mean, if you will permit it, to come 
 over and take up my residence for the summer in Heidelberg. 
 
 I will, however, advert to one or two of the main points, 
 both in the history of my own mind, and of your book. Hav- 
 ing originally heard the popular doctrines concerning the fall 
 of man, — the sin of Adam, — justification by faith, — and the 
 eternal damnation of all mankind except a few believers, 
 merely on account of their belief, stated in the most gross 
 way, the moment the inherent absurdity of such notions was 
 made palpable to my mind, I rejected them without hesitation. 
 Now it has been a great consolation to me, the finding in your 
 work such a statement of the real import of the doctrines of 
 the gospel as is entirely free from all those rational objections 
 by which I was so strongly influenced in my youth, and the 
 effect of which still remains. Your views concerning the fall 
 of man may he true ; the popular doctrine must he false. Your 
 view concerning the ultimate purpose of the scheme of redemp- 
 tion is worthy the purest conceptions of the Divine nature. 
 The popular doctrine of heaven and hell is Manicheism, with 
 this worst of additions, that the evil spirit is more powerful 
 than the good spirit ; for only a few are to be saved, after all. 
 Not less satisfactory to me is your explanation of the nature 
 of faith, — as expressive of a purification of the heart {Reini- 
 gung der Gesinnung). The vulgar notion really represents the 
 Supreme Being as actuated by feelings not very different from 
 the pique and resentment of vain people, who punish those 
 who disbelieve what they say. In a word, there is no one 
 topic which as treated by you is repugnant to my feelmgs and 
 wishes. 
 
 The one doctrine which forms at present an insurmountable 
 
1834.] DOCTRINAL DIFFICULTIES. — GOETHE'S BOTANY. 193 
 
 stumbling-block is that of the atonement, — the doctrine of 
 justification through the merits of Jesus Christ. Now, I am 
 not without hopes that I shall hereafter receive from you ex- 
 planations as reasonable as on other points ; and that I shall 
 find here, too, that though you talk with the vulgar, you do 
 not think with them. But do not mistake my object in writ- 
 ing this. I do not ask you to write me a book. And it is not 
 in a letter that such a subject can be treated ; but whenever I 
 take my residence for a time near you. I shall request your 
 aid in not merely this matter, but generally in the study of 
 the great Christian scheme in all its bearings, about which I 
 have been talking — and talking very idly, and sometimes very 
 lightly — all my life, without ever studying it as I ought. I 
 am anxious, as I said before, to remove this reproach from me ; 
 for, whether true or false, it is sheer folly on my part to have 
 given it so little attention, or rather to have attended to it in 
 so desultory a way. I ought to add that I find no impediment 
 in the common notion of the Divine nature of Jesus Christ, as 
 I am conscious of being both Soul and Body and yet One. I 
 can see nothing incredible even in the notion of the Divine and 
 human nature of the Redeemer, as he is called ; but in what 
 does that redemption consist 1 That is the great difficulty. 
 Here, again, the vulgar doctrine expressed in such phrases as 
 "the precious blood " of Christ, — his infinite sufferings, — the 
 atoning sacrifice, — &c., &c., — these, like the doctrines which 
 you have so well explained, excite nothing but disgust for the 
 present. My wish and hope are, that you may be able to 
 throw light on these also. 
 
 April Jfih, — Dined at Gooden's, where I met among others 
 Dr. Lindley, the Secretary of the Horticultural Society. He 
 surprised me by saying he knew Goethe only as a botanist, in 
 which character he thought most highly of him, he being the 
 author of the New System of Botany ; and that this is now the 
 opinion of the most eminent botanists both in France and 
 England. I rejoice at this unexpected intelligence. 
 
 July 7th. — - Went to Miss Denman, with whom I had a 
 long chat on business. She wishes that Mr. Flaxman's re- 
 maining works should be preserved together, — a reasonable 
 and honorable object of anxiety. 
 
 July 9th. — In the evening at the Athenaeum, where I 
 found everybody agitated by the news of the day. The Min- 
 istry is broken up. I am far from thinking it certain that the 
 
 VOL. II. 9 \r 
 
194 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 Tories will come in. It may end in the re-establishment of 
 the Ministry as before the Reform Bill passed. The Irish 
 Church Bill is the rock on which the weak administration has 
 split. In fact the Ministry want courage to give up the Irish 
 Church, and they are at the same time against the Irish Re- 
 pealers. Between the two parties, they strive in vain to steer 
 a middle and safe course. 
 
 July 10th. — I accompanied Miss Mackenzie, with Lady 
 Charlotte Proby, to Wilkie's, where we saw the very interest- 
 ing beginning of a painting, *' Columbus showing his Plans to 
 two Monks." Only the philosopher's head and the figure of 
 an interesting youth were finished. It is a very promising be- 
 ginning. But Wilkie is more interesting than his picture. A 
 mild and sickly man, with an expression rather of kindness 
 than of elevation of character ; his gray little eyes are not 
 without an expression of slyness. 
 
 July 25th. — Heard with soitow of the death of a great 
 man, Coleridge ! Mrs. Aders brought the intelligence. He 
 died with great composure, and fully sensible of his condition. 
 Wordsworth declared to me (in 1812) that the powers of Cole- 
 ridge's mind were gi'eater than those of any man he ever 
 knew. His genius he thought to be great, but his talents still 
 greater. And it was in the union of so much genius with so 
 much talent that Coleridge surpassed all the men of Words- 
 worth's acquaintance. 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R. 
 
 [No date, but on the outside is written, *' Summer, 1834."] 
 My Friend ! my Friend ! — What a dismal gap has been 
 made within a little time, in the forest of intellect, among the 
 plants of highest growth ! Byron and Scott put the fashionable 
 world in deep mourning. The crape, however, was soon thrown 
 aside, and people took their coffee, and drew their card, and 
 looked as anxiously as ever at what was turning up. These 
 deaths were only the patterings of rain before the storm. 
 Goethe, your mighty friend, dropped into the grave. Another, 
 next to him in power, goes after him, — the dear good Cole- 
 ridge. Little did I think, when we shook hands at parting, 
 that our hands should never join again. 
 
 Southey is suffering from a calamity worse than death, be- 
 fallen one dearer to him than himself How is W^ordsworth 1 
 It appears as if the world were cracking all about me, and 
 leaving me no object on which to fix my eyes. 
 
1834.] VISIT TO HEIDELBERG. — ARKDT. 195 
 
 Visit to Heidelberg. 
 
 Left home August 1st — Returned November 10th, 
 On my way I stopped at Bonn (August 3d), and spent an 
 hour with Arndt. I had seen this distinguished patriot and 
 popular writer only once before, — at Stockholm, twenty-seven 
 years ago, — yet he recognized me at once. I found him in 
 affliction; he had recently lost a fine boy, by drowning, through 
 the unskilfulness of a servant. When he had disburdened him- 
 self of this sorrow, he talked with great animation on the pub- 
 lic concerns of the day. Arndt was a violent hater of Buona- 
 parte, and fled from his proscription. When the restoration 
 was complete, he became obnoxicms to the sovereigns he had 
 so warmly served (not for their own sakes, but for the people), 
 and was not suffered to lecture at Bonn, where he was a pro- 
 fessor, though his salary was allowed him. Under these cir- 
 cumstances, I talked of all countries but Prussia ; but he 
 seemed to have forgotten the injustice done him by the gov- 
 ernment. He was greatly altered in his political feelings, and 
 chiefly through the effbct of one speculative opinion, and that 
 is, the great influence of national character and race. It 
 seemed to break in upon all the ordinary rules of justice. Ac- 
 cording to it, nations are doomed to a certain course by a 
 sort of fatality superior to the influence of opinions or moral 
 causes. He loved the Prussian character, and spoke slighting- 
 ly of the Poles, — I suppose under the influence of this fixed 
 opinion. He considered the Poles incapable of fidelity, and 
 therefore of union. Compared with them, he spoke highly of 
 the Russians. On the same ground, he justified the predomi- 
 nance of England in Ireland. The Irish, he said, have no 
 foresight, no prudence ; they cannot colonize, and are incapable 
 of self-government. They are brave, but cannot make use of 
 the effects of bravery. Of France he said, in spite of Napo- 
 leon's famous cry, " Ships, commerce, and colonies," it cannot 
 become a colonizing state. The English would have already 
 settled matters in Algeria. Neither the Russians nor the 
 French could, he thought, ever be a great naval power. He as- 
 serted that the German character resists slavery. Even when 
 the government is in form absolute, the administration cannot 
 be arbitrary. In nothing that Arndt said could I more agree 
 with him than in this. Some of his other assertions are per- 
 haps fanciful ; but there was a youthful vigor in a man of 
 sixty-five which it was delightful to contemplate. 
 
196 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 August 11th, — At a party at Madame Thomas's I met, 
 among other old friends, Ludwig Tieck, his daughter, and the 
 Countess. He is more bent, but with a fresher complexion, 
 than when I saw him at Dresden, in 1829. He spoke of Cole- 
 ridge with high admiration, and heard of his death with great 
 apparent sorrow. I spoke of his Dramaturgische Blatter^ and 
 complained of his tone of depreciation towards the English 
 stage. The most prominent person — he who talked the most 
 and the best — was Grimm,* one of the Gehrilder Grimm, the au- 
 thors of the Volhswjdhrchen, and of the famous '' German 
 Grammar." He is a lively talker, with a very intellectual 
 countenance, expressive rather of quickness than depth. He 
 declaimed vehemently against the cheap literature of the day, 
 --r-not merely on account of its injuring the trade ^ but because it 
 gives only imperfect knowledge, excites pride, and dravys peo- 
 ple out of their proper sphere. He is not the correspondent 
 of Hayward. 
 
 During my stay at Heidelberg much of my time was spent 
 with my old college acquaintance, Frederick Schlosser of the 
 Stift. Here (says my journal of the 17th August) I had a very 
 friendly reception from Schlosser and his wife, and also from 
 Senator Brentano, his wife, &c., &c. By the presence of so 
 many acquaintances I was put into high spirits, and I have 
 not for a long time been in a more delightful frame of mind. 
 To this the singular beauty of the spot contributed not a little. 
 The views up and down the Neckar, from the platform before 
 this ex-monastery, are exquisite, and the amiable occupiers 
 seem fully to enjoy them. 
 
 On a subsequent occasion Schlosser showed me a valuable 
 collection of MSS. and old pamphlets, of and about Goethe. 
 
 September 2d, — An interesting afternoon. I dined with 
 Madame Niese. The Beneckes and Schlossers there, and with 
 them Gorres, Professor of History at Munich, his wife, daugh- 
 ter, and grandchild. Gorres has the wildest physiognomy, ^ — 
 looks like an overgrown old student. A faun-like nose and 
 lips, fierce eyes, and locks as wild as Caliban's. Strong sense, 
 with a sort of sulky indifference towards others, are the charac- 
 teristics of his manner. I had little or no conversation with 
 
 * Mr. Howitt tells me that H. C R. gave to the brothers Grimm the capital 
 story of ** The Fisherman and his Wife." Mr. Howitt saj^s: "I had heard this 
 was the case, and therefore asked H. C R. whether it was true. He said 
 * Yes,' and told me how he found it. I think he had it from an old woman, 
 but I cannot now precisely recollect. Of the fact, however, I am certain, that 
 he said he discovered it somewhere in Germany." — Kd. 
 
1S34.] CHARLES KEMBLE. — KIRCHENRATH SCHWARZ. 197 
 
 him. The gentlemen went up to the vineyard, while I stayed 
 with the ladies, and except a little talk, at last, about Jena and 
 the Brentanos, I had no chat with him. I was in high spirits, 
 and talked more than with such persons I ought. Gorres is a 
 rigid Catholic. He was once a sort of Radical, but is now a 
 Conservative. His books are distinguished for their obscurity ; 
 his work on the Volksbuche?- is such as the Volk would never 
 understand. Of his later works I know nothing. He found 
 in me a strong resemblance to Franz von Baader, — a philo- 
 sophic mystic ! * 
 
 Walking home early I met Charles Kemble and his wife. I 
 joined them, and chatted with them for an hour on the walk 
 towards the Stift. He talked of German literature sensibly, 
 and in a gentlemanly tone. He said he was very happy that 
 he had now nothing to do with the stage. Charles Young has 
 also been staying at Heidelberg. I went one evening to the 
 theatre with him, to see Goetz von Ber licking en. He soon 
 became tired. He has since dined at our table-d'hote, and I 
 have had a walk with him. 
 
 September 19th. — In the morning I had a call from the Kir- 
 chenrath Schwarz, a conscientious, good old man, who sent me 
 a letter lately to apologize for having contradicted my citation 
 of Kant's distribution of the Tree of Knowledge among the four 
 polished nations of Europe, — to the French the blossom, the 
 Italians the crown, the English the fruit, and the Germans the 
 root. His letter contains less apt citations from Kant, but is 
 still worth preservation. 
 
 In the evening I went to the Kirchenrath Schwarz, to tea 
 and supper. A small party of serious persons, whom Benecke 
 gi-eatly likes. I was against the field in vindication of Goethe. 
 And we had also religious talk. One circumstance was remark- 
 able, — - all the party, i. e. Uhlmann, with our host and Benecke, 
 were against rationality in religious sentiment, and yet they all 
 persisted that the government had no right to remove even 
 Paitlus, having once appointed him. Who shall be judge in 
 such cases of what is, or is not, a true interpretation of the 
 
 * I have since read Gorres' account of his persecution by the Prussian 
 government in 1819. This book is neither mystical nor Jacobinical, but is 
 full of high moral feeling. I translate one sentence, because I recollect that 
 when very young I had the same thought: "He (i.e. Gorres) bore this 
 Zuriicksetzuvg (setting back or check) with cheerful resignation, because he 
 always deemed it a vain presumption in any individual, a member of a large 
 and complex state, that he should be rewarded according to his deserts ; con- 
 sidering merit, even when undisputed, as but a gift which is to be gratefully 
 vscepted, without asking, on that account, for an additional reward.*' — H, C. t, 
 
198 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 Gospel 1 Paulus does not in terms reject the Gospel ; he says : 
 ** We can only make spiritual advance on the road Jesus Christ 
 has pointed out, — his Gospel we accept, — that is enough for 
 us." Whether he believes in miracles, as we do, is not essential. 
 The Reformation was not closed when the Protestant churches 
 were founded, and w^e will not shut the door to further reforms. 
 We are not bound to any creed 1 One of the party was for put- 
 ting Herder above Goethe. This I did not allow, though I was 
 willing to admit that an unconscious suspicion that Herder was 
 in religious matters above Goethe might operate on the latter 
 so as to make him feel unfriendly to Herder. Undoubtedly be- 
 tween these men there was no love lost. 
 
 September 20th. — Finished the fourth volume of Goethe's 
 " Correspondence." Many most delightful things in • these 
 volumes. I was surprised by Goethe's favorable judgment of 
 Walter Scott's " Life of Napoleon." He calls Scott the best 
 narrator of the age ; and speaks of him as an upright man who 
 has tried to get rid of national prejudices. He concludes by the 
 shrewd remark, that '' such hooks show you more of \.he writer 
 than the suhjectr 
 
 Dined wnth Madame Herder. I talked with her about her 
 great father-in-law. She declares him to have been a Unita- 
 rian, and says he spoke the language of orthodoxy without 
 being orthodox. 
 
 I left before four, and then went to Schlosser. Looked over 
 some pamphlets about Goethe, — his correspondence with Klop- 
 stock. Klopstock admonished him for letting the Duke get 
 drunk. Goethe answered rather coldly, but respectfully, and 
 begged to be spared such letters. Klopstock thereon replied 
 that Goethe was unworthy such an act of friendship. They 
 probably never met again. Goethe nowhere alludes to this. 
 The best answer to the charge is, that Goethe lived to the age 
 of eighty-three, and the Duke to more than seventy. No ruin- 
 ous sensuality could have been practised by them. 
 
 September 21st, — Read with Benecke, and afterwards walked 
 with him and Mrs. Benecke to Madame Niese. The Schlossers 
 came there. An interesting chat with Fritz Schlosser about 
 the men of the last age, — our youth. He said that F. Jacobi 
 anxiously wished to be a Christian, and would hail him as a 
 benefactor who should relieve him from his doubts. In fact, 
 Jacobi was a Sentimentalist and a Theist. He hated Kantian- 
 ism because he thought it wanted life and feeling. He loved 
 Spinoza*s character, but thought himself wronged in being 
 
1834.] STUDIES IN RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY. 199 
 
 treated as his follower. He was fond of quoting Pascal and 
 Hemsterhusius. 
 
 Two subjects of frequent talk were the strange story of 
 Kasper Hauser, about whom many pamphlets had been writ- 
 ten and opinions had widely differed ; and Goethe's " Corre- 
 spondence." There was a great deal of cant about the want 
 of respect shown to the public in giving to it Goethe's insig- 
 nificant letters. A story by Zelter is applicable in this in- 
 stance : " There goes Fritz," said one soldier to another, as the 
 King went by. " What a shabby old hat he has on ! " — 
 *' Dummer Junge^^ said the other, ^' you do not see what a fine 
 head he has." 
 
 I had some conversations with Geheimerath Schlosser of the 
 Stadt, the historian ; and also with Paulus. The latter, in his 
 Sophronizon, relates an anecdote which he had from my old 
 and very honest friend Jung, of Mainz. The latter saw a poor 
 old woman at a station of a Calvary in Bavaria. She was 
 crawling on her knees up the hill. She told her story. A rich 
 lady who had sinned was required by her confessor to go on her 
 knees so many times up the Calvary; but she might do it by dep- 
 uty. She paid this poor woman 24 kreutzers (8 c/.) for a day's 
 journey on her knees, " which," said the woman, " is poor 
 wages for a day's hard labor ; and I have three children to 
 maintain. And unless charitable souls give me more, my 
 children must go with half a bellyfull." 
 
 My object in making this stay at Heidelberg was to become 
 sufficiently acquainted with Benecke's speculative philosophy, 
 in which, certainly, I did not succeed. As one of the means 
 of making that philosophy known to the English liberal pub- 
 lic, he was desirous that I should translate the preface to his 
 ^' Commentary on St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans." I made 
 a translation, with which he was moderately satisfied, but I 
 never attempted to print it.* 
 
 In my journal of October 17th, I wrote : After dinner I was 
 again with Benecke. He is very poorly ; but we had an in- 
 teresting conversation. He dwelt on two ideas which he 
 deems of great importance, — the distinguishing thoughts of 
 Necessity and Liberty ; the one being such thoughts as are 
 bound by, and altogether have their character from, that Ne- 
 
 * Now, after twenty years, not only that preface, but the whole work, has 
 been translated and given to the pubhc by his son William. — H. C. R. " An 
 Exposition of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. By WilHam Benecke. 
 Translated from the German." Longman, 1854. 
 
200 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. {Chap. 11. 
 
 cessity of which man partakes. Such are all the thoughts 
 arising out of the contemplation of Nature. And the thoughts 
 of Liberty are those which arise out of that self-determining 
 power in man which constitutes his moral nature. To this 
 class belong all moral ideas. Of Liberty he further explained, 
 that this being a faculty liable to be abused, — and this inev- 
 itably, — the purpose of our being is so to improve this facul- 
 ty, or exert it, that at least it is no longer capable of erring. 
 When once man cannot abuse his freedom, — when he volun- 
 tarily and spontaneously does what the moral law requires, — 
 then there is that synthesis or union of Liberty and Necessity 
 w^hich is the characteristic of God, and by attaining to which 
 man partakes of the Divine nature, — the problem of human 
 existence to be ultimately solved by all ! 
 
 Let me connect with this a strange saying of Goethe's, being 
 the ne plus ultra of progress, — *^ If there be not a God now, 
 there will be one day." 
 
 I shall take no notice of my walks with Benecke in this 
 glorious country, nor of my intercourse with his admirable 
 wife who still survives, but refer only to his opinions. One of 
 these, more remarkable than that on Liberty and Necessity, 
 he gave me on the 19th of October, when he read to me some- 
 thing he had written on the Lord's Supper. He explained the 
 meal as a symbol of the union of the Christian with God. It 
 is by food that life is sustained, — that is, the union of the 
 body and soul, or spirit. But had not the food a spirit, it 
 could have no effect on the mind. The nutritive power of the 
 food is distinct from its coarse material nature. And so St. 
 Paul speaks of a spiritual body, Benecke did not succeed in 
 making me comprehend his explanation of Christ's words : 
 "This is my body." This reminded me of a fine saying by 
 Coleridge, in the Quarterly Review, that "the Calvinists had 
 volatilized the Eucharist to a word, — the Romanists ossified 
 it to an idol." Benecke added, that, living in a Christian 
 counti-y, he should not be satisfied w^ithout partaking of the 
 Lord's Supper, though he attaches no importance to it. Of 
 course, the Roman Catholic idea of the reception being neces- 
 sary to salvation is gross superstition. And he added, what 
 my journal remarks had occurred to me before, that the text 
 which says that he that believeth and is baptized shall be 
 saved, and that he that believeth not shall be damned, does 
 not say, "and he that is not baptized shall be damned." He 
 approved of immersion as the primitive form of baptism. 
 
U34.] GOETHE'S "CORRESPONDENCE WITH A CHILD." 201 
 
 Rem.* — Of my admiration for Goethe, Benecke says, in his 
 pubhshed letters : t ^* I agree with you in the judgment you 
 express of what Robinson has thought of Goethe. He who so 
 admires Goethe " (a just admiration, I think) " shows that he 
 does not miss in him that without which there can be no true 
 greatness. And he who does not perceive where it is not, can- 
 not feel it where it really is." This is not altogether true in 
 its application to me. If, by not missing, Benecke meant that 
 I did not perceive where it was not, he did me injustice. The 
 real difference between us lies in this, that I could perceive an 
 excellence where the higher w^as not. 
 
 October 2Jfth, — I met Frau von Arnim, and had a long talk 
 with her about her book, — " Goethe's Correspondence with a 
 Child." She is highly and unreasonably dissatisfied with what 
 has been done, or rather not done, in England. She had diffi- 
 culty in getting it introduced in a way satisfactory to herself; 
 and even at last she was so dissatisfied with the translation an 
 English acquaintance had made for her, that she printed a 
 translation of her own. This might be worth keeping in a 
 cabinet of literary curiosities, but it never became sufficiently 
 known to be an object of ridicule or censure. She told me 
 that Gorres declares this book will be the noblest monument 
 yet erected to Goethe's memory. 
 
 At six I went with Charlotte Serviere to see the painter 
 Veit, with whom and Madame von Schlegel I spent a very 
 pleasant evening. Madame von Schlegel was the daughter of 
 Moses Mendelssohn. She is the mother of Veit, and married 
 as her second husband Friedrich von Schlegel. She is old, and 
 has the appearance of a sensible woman. I talked with her 
 chiefly on personal matters. She spoke with regret of Wilhelm 
 Schlegel's having become so much of a Frenchman in his lite- 
 rary opinions. Certainly the learned Professor's affected disre- 
 gard of German literatm*e is not the least of his coxcombicali- 
 ties. 
 
 By the by, I should have mentioned that the conductor of 
 the diligence by which I came fi:-om Heidelberg, a well-looking 
 man, though somewhat of a braggart, said that he had a broth- 
 er on the Frankfort stage, who had been offered a salary of 
 several thousand dollars to go to Stuttgart. " But," said he, 
 *' my brother will not go to Stuttgart, — at Stuttgart there is 
 no public, there is only a Court ! ! " A genuine Imperial free- 
 
 * Written in 1854. 
 
 t "Wilhelm Benecke's Lebenskizze und Briefe." Dresden, 1850. 
 9* 
 
202 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 city speech. He said his father and family for a hundred 
 years had been conductors of a diUgence. 
 
 Passing through Dunkirk, I strolled into the large church, 
 where there were three priests engaged in catechizing boys and 
 girls. It was by no means an edifying sight. I understood 
 only a little, but enough not to lament that I could understand 
 no more. I heard who was the first man, and to the answer 
 as to who was the first woman, I heard a *' Bon,'*^ " Had Adam 
 a father 1 " seemed a puzzler to the boy, and how he answered 
 I could not hear ; neither did I hear the answer to a question 
 which would have been a puzzler to me, — why man was made 
 of the limon de terre, and not of some other espece de terre. To 
 a question which I could guess was, " Why was Eve said to 
 have been made of Adam's rib ? " I did catch the reply of 
 the teacher, not of the boy, — " C^est pour faire voir que la 
 femme est en dependance sur Vhomme, " And then the dirty fel- 
 low grinned with a leer and a wink to the Messieurs les etrangers. 
 And some women grinned too. And this, says my journal, is 
 religious instruction, and so Christians are taught ! I might 
 have added, — and so is society formed. This incident made 
 such an impression on me that I have a vivid recollection of it 
 now. 
 
 December IJfth, — I dined with the Baldwins,* and had, as 
 usual, an agreeable evening. He is in high spirits at the 
 change of the Ministry. He seems to think that the Duke 
 and Sir Robert Peel will be reforming Ministers, — a good sign 
 certainly. The dissolution, it is supposed, will take place im- 
 mediately. I had no difficulty in treating lightly, and as suits 
 an after-dinner conversation, these serious matters. Feeling, 
 as I do, so little of a partisan, if I could by a wish determine 
 the character of the new House of Commons, it should contain 
 a few Radicals, — merely enough to enable the party to say all 
 they wish, and the Whigs should be just strong enough to re- 
 sume their places, but with so very powerful a Tory Opposition 
 as to be restrained from measures of destructive violence. In 
 a letter to my brother I wrote : " There is such an equipoise 
 of honor, integrity, and intelligence distributed among the 
 conscientious Conservative alarmists on the one hand, and the 
 generous and philanthropic Reformers on the other, that t 
 have no strong feeling in any contest between them. I feel a 
 passionate hostility against none but the Radicals. The old 
 Tory party, if not dead, is forced to shaiii death." 
 
 * See Vol. I. p. 278. 
 
U34.] ROBERT HALL. — BONS MOTS. 203 
 
 December 27th. — (On a visit to my friends the Pattissons at 
 Witham.) I took a walk with the Pattissons in the gTOunds. 
 They have been planting trees near the rivulet in the meadow, 
 as suggested by me two years age. To-day I planted three 
 limes in a triangular position. Perhaps, as Jacob Pattisson 
 half said, these trees will keep alive my memory longer than 
 any other act of my life ! Yet no child was present to witness 
 the planting. At night I read Gregory's " Life of Robert 
 Hall." The only passages that attracted me were the mots. 
 His religious character had nothing peculiar in it. He had fine 
 taste and great eloquence, but after all was not first-rate, — 
 that is, not equal to Jeremy Taylor or Burke. But he was 
 facile princeps of all the Dissenting preachers of the day. Of 
 his sayings, here are a few : — 
 
 1. Being told that the Archbishop of Canterbury's chaplain 
 came into the room to say gi'ace, and then went out, he said : 
 •' So that is being great ! His Grace not choosing to present 
 his own requests to the King of kings, calls in a deputy to 
 take up his messages. A great man indeed ! " 
 
 2. "In matters of conscience, first thoughts are best ; in 
 matters of prudence, the Zasf." 
 
 3. Of Bishop Watson's life, — " Poor man ! I pity him. He 
 married public virtue in his early days, but seemed foi'ever 
 afterwards to be quarrelling with his wife." 
 
 4. A lady saying she would wait and see, when asked to 
 subscribe, — " She is watching, not to do good, but to escape 
 from it." 
 
 5. Battle of Waterloo, — " The battle and its results ap- 
 peared to me to put back the clock of the world six de- 
 grees." 
 
 6. Of Dr. Magee's mot about the Catholic Dissenters, that 
 the Catholics had a church and no religion, and the Dissenters 
 a religion and no church, he said : '^ It is false, but is an ex- 
 cellent stone to pelt a Dissenter with." 
 
 7. '' The head of [a minister] is so full of everything 
 
 but religion, one might be tempted to fancy that he has a Sun- 
 day soul, which he screws on in- due time, and takes off every 
 Monday morning." 
 
 8. Being told that his animation increased with his years, 
 " Indeed ! Then I am like touchwood, the more decayed, 
 the easier fired." 
 
204 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 1835. 
 
 January 1st — (At Witham.) The New Year's post brought 
 me a letter from Talfourd amiouncing the death of that " frail 
 good man," — *^ a good man if a good man ever was," to use 
 Wordsworth's affectionate expression, — Charles Lamb» 
 
 Talfourd to H. C. R. 
 
 Temple, 31st December, 1834. 
 My DEAR Robinson, — I am very sorry that I did not know 
 where you were, that I might have communicated poor Lamb's 
 death to you before you saw it in the newspaper ; but I only 
 judged you were out of town by not having received any 
 answer to a note (written before I was aware of Lamb's illness), 
 asking you to dine with us on Saturday next. I first heard 
 of his illness last Friday night, and on Saturday morning I 
 went to see him. He had only been seriously ill since the 
 preceding Wednesday. The immediate disease was erysipe- 
 las ; * but it was, in truth, a breaking up of the constitution, 
 and he died from mere weakness. When I saw him, the dis- 
 ease had so altered him that it was a very melancholy sight ; 
 his mind was then almost gone, and I do not think he was 
 conscious of my presence ; but he did not, I believe, suffer 
 any pain, nor was he at all conscious of danger. Ryle saw 
 him the day before ; then he was perfectly sensible ; talked of 
 common things, and said he w^as only weak, and should be 
 well in a day or two. He died within two hours after I saw 
 
 him I doubt whether Mary Lamb will ever be quite 
 
 herself again, so as to feel her loss with her natural sensibility. 
 She went with Ryle yesterday to the churchyard, and pointed 
 out a place where her brother had expressed a wish to be 
 buried ; and that wish will be fulfilled. The funeral will take 
 place on Saturday, from the house where he died, at one 
 o'clock. It will be attended by Moxon, Ryle, who is executor 
 with me, a gentleman from the India House, who witnessed 
 the will, and was an old companion there, Brock, Allsop, and, 
 I believe, Carey. If you had been in town, we should, of 
 course, have proposed it to you to attend, if you saw fit ; but 
 this is no occasion which should bring you to town for the pur- 
 pose, unless for the gratification of your own feelings, as there 
 
 * Caused by a fall, which took place on Monday, and which made some 
 slight wounds on the face. 
 
1835 ] MARY LAMB. 205 
 
 will be quite sufficient in point of number, and Miss Lamb is 
 not capable of deriving that comfort from seeing you which 
 I am sure she w^ould do if she were herself. .... Pray act 
 exactly as you think best.* 
 
 January 12th. — I resolved to-day to discharge a melan- 
 choly duty, and went down by the Edmonton stage to call on 
 poor Miss Lamb. It was a melancholy sight, but more so to 
 the reflection than to the sense. A stranger would have seen 
 little remarkable about her. She was neither violent nor un- 
 happy ; nor was she entirely without sense. She was, however, 
 out of her mind, as the expression is ; but she could combine 
 ideas, although imperfectly. On my going into the room 
 where she was sitting with Mr. Waldron, she exclaimed with 
 great vivacity, " Oh ! here 's Crahhyr She gave me her hand 
 with great cordiality, and said : '^ Now this is very kind, — not 
 merely good-natured, but very, very kind to come and see me 
 in my affliction." And then she ran on about the unhappy 
 
 insane family of my old friend . It would be useless to 
 
 attempt recollecting all she said ; but it is to be remarked 
 that her mind seemed turned to subjects connected with in- 
 sanity as well as with her brother's death. She spoke of 
 Charles repeatedly. She is nine years and nine months older 
 than he, and will soon be seventy. She spoke of his birth, and 
 said that he was a weakly, but very pretty child. I have no 
 doubt that if ever she be sensible of her brothers loss, it will 
 overset her again. She will live forever in the memory of her 
 friends as one of the most amiable and admirable of women. 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R. 
 
 [No date.] 
 
 The death of Charles Lamb has grieved me very bitterly. 
 Never did I see a human being with whom I was more inclined 
 to sympathize. There is something in the recollection that 
 you took me with you to see him which affects me greatly 
 more than writing or speaking of him could do with any other. 
 When I first heard of the loss that all his friends, and many 
 that never were his friends, sustained in him, no thought took 
 possession of my mind except the anguish of his sister. That 
 very night, before I closed my eyes, I composed this : — 
 
 * After long vacillation Mr. Robinson determined to stop at Witham, and 
 not go to London for the funeral, — a determination which he always after- 
 wards regretted. 
 
2U6 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 TO THE SISTER OF CHARLES LAMB. 
 
 Comfort thee, O thou mourner ! yet awhile 
 
 Again shall Elia's smile 
 Refresh thy heart, whose heart can ache no more. 
 
 What is it we deplore V 
 He leaves behind him, freed from griefs and years, 
 
 Far worthier things than tears. 
 The love of friends, without a single foe; 
 
 Unequalled lot below ! 
 His gentle soul, his genius, these are thine; 
 
 Shalt thou for these repine V 
 He may have left the lowly walks of men; 
 
 Left them he has: what then? 
 Are not his footsteps followed bv the eyes 
 
 Of all the good and wise ? 
 Though the warm day is over, yet they seek, 
 
 Upon the lofty peak 
 Of his pure mind, the roseate light, that glows 
 
 O'er death's perennial snows. 
 Behold him ! From the Spirits of the Blest 
 
 He speaks : he bids thee rest. 
 
 If you like to send these to Leigh Hunt, do it. He may be 
 pleased to print in his Journal this testimony of affection to 
 his friend, — this attempt at consolation to the finest genius 
 that ever descended on the heart of woman 
 
 March 3d. — This was a busy day. I breakfasted with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wordsworth (who are staying in town) ; Sir Robert 
 Inglis called : something highly respectable in his appearance , 
 benevolence and simplicity are strongly expressed in his coun- 
 tenance. Mr. Rogers also called ; he invited me to dine with 
 the Wordsworths at his house to-day. I then walked with the 
 Wordsworths to Pickersgill, who is painting a small likeness of 
 the poet for Dora. We sat there for a couple of hours, enliven- 
 ing by chat the dulness of sitting for a portrait. At six o'clock 
 I returned to the West, and dined at Rogers's with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wordsworth. The very rooms would have made the 
 visit interesting, without the sight of any person. The pic- 
 tures and marbles are delightful. Everywhere the most per- 
 fect taste imaginable. 
 
 March Jfth. — Dined at the Athenaeum. A chat with Sheil 
 and the Bishop of Exeter together, — an odd trio, it must be 
 owned. The Bishop was the most of a courtier of the three. 
 We all told anecdotes, — I, of the Irish padre in the mail with 
 Sheil and me. Talking afterwards with Sheil alone, I declared 
 to him. my conviction that the Irish had a moral right to rebel 
 if the continuance of the Anglican Church were insisted on. 
 
1835.] PARTY AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S. 207 
 
 March 8th, — It is certain that Fonblanque now writes for 
 the Chronicle. But this week there is in the Examiner no 
 symptom of exhaustion. One sentence I must copy, — it is 
 admirable : " The pretence of the Tory Ministry that it is big 
 with reforms, is Hke the trick of women under sentence of 
 death, to procure a respite by the plea of pregnancy ; but in 
 these cases the party is kept under bolt and bar during the 
 period for proving the falsehood of the pretence : and so must 
 it be with our lying-in government." 
 
 March IJfth. — I called on Wordsworth, by appointment, at 
 Pickersgill's. The small picture of Wordsworth is much better 
 than the large one. From Moxon I heard the gratifying intelli- 
 gence that the Trustees of the India House Clerks' Fund have 
 resolved to allow Miss Lamb £ 120 per annum. This I have 
 written to Talfourd. All anxiety about her future subsistence 
 is now at an end. 
 
 March 30th, — At half past seven, went to Lady Blessing- 
 ton's, where I dined. The amusing man of the party was a 
 young Irishman, — Lover, — a miniature-painter and an au- 
 thor. He sang and accompanied himself, and told some Irish 
 tales with admirable effect. One of King O'Toole, and one 
 of an Irish piper. In both, exquisite absurdities, uttered in 
 a quiet tone and yet dramatically, constituted the charm. 
 Among the other guests were Chorley and the American 
 Willis. Count D'Orsay of course did the honors. Did not 
 leave till near one, and then went to the Athenseum, where I 
 stayed till past two, chiefly talking politics with Strutt.* The 
 \ssue of the debate on the Irish Church very doubtful. 
 
 Miss Burney to H. C. R. 
 
 22 Henrietta Street, Bath, February 18, 1835. 
 My dear Friend, — I will talk to you of a journey to town 
 which I meditate undertaking towards the middle or latter end 
 of May. I want to see my sister D'Arblay, and certain other 
 old friends, and I had purposed applying to my niece, Mrs. 
 Payne, for a little house-room during my London sojourn. 
 But, behold ! my charms, either bodily or mental, or both, 
 have captivated the fancy of a gay gallant, aged only eighty, — 
 
 a Eev. James , uncle to Miss C . He has a snug 
 
 bachelor's house in Pimlico, and has so set his heart upon 
 having me under his roof, that when I at first declined the 
 
 * Now Lord Belper. 
 
208 REiMlNISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 invitation, he looked so mortified, so like an unhappy Strephon, 
 that finally my tender womanish heart was softened, and I 
 promised him three weeks or a month of my engaging com- 
 pany. This has revived him, and he left Bath ten days since, 
 the happiest of expectant lovers. Meanwhile, of all the birds 
 in the air, who do you think is actually boarding with me in 
 my present residence, and subscribing to all the ways and 
 
 doings of a Bath boarding-house 1 Why, Miss C herself, 
 
 the one you dined with at Mr. King's ! Since that time she 
 has been residing again with her father, near Li6ge ; but long- 
 ing and sighing for the pleasure of becoming a Carmelite nun, 
 an' please you ! Something or other, however, — I cannot well 
 make out what, — has put her off from this very judicious plan 
 for the present ; yet, so excited had been her spirits, and so 
 shaken her health, both of body and mind, that it was thought 
 desirable for her to spend a few months in her own country, and 
 amidst persons and scenes that might take oiF her thoughts from 
 what had so long exclusively engrossed them. To Bath, then, 
 she came, a little before Christmas, partly attracted perhaps by 
 me, and still more by a certain Catholic Bishop Bains, residing 
 at Prior Park, and her great friend. And a good friend too, for 
 he is wholly averse to her becoming a nun ; and, moreover, as 
 she has been advised here by a medical man to observe a more 
 nourishing diet, he (the Bishop) has given her a dispensation, 
 whereby she may abstain from killing herself by fasting rigor- 
 ously throughout the approaching Lent. 
 
 I return your Italian volumes, my dear friend, with many 
 thanks, owning honestly that I have never looked into them ; 
 for the thread of my interest in Botta's " History " having been 
 interrupted by my leaving Florence, I could not for the life of 
 me connect it again ; and I got hold of other books, — read no 
 Italian for ages, — and at last pounced one fine day upon a good 
 clear edition of Ariosto, and have been and am reading him with 
 even more delight than when he first fell into my hands. Here 
 and there he is a bad boy ; and as the book is my own, and I 
 do not like indecency, I cut out whole pages that annoy me, 
 and burn them before the author's face, which stands at the 
 beginning of the first volume, and I hope feels properly 
 ashamed. Next to Ariosto, by way of something new, I treat 
 myself now and then with a play of one William Shakespeare, 
 and I am reading Robertson's '^ Charles V.," which comes in 
 well after that part of Botta's '* History " at which I left off*, 
 viz. just about the time of the Council of Trent. And as I 
 
1835.] DINNER AT ROLFE'S. 209 
 
 love modem reading, I was glad to find myself possessed of a 
 very tidy edition of a biographical work you may perhaps have 
 heard tell of, — Plutarch's " Lives." If you should ever meet 
 wdth it, I think I might venture to say you would not dislike it. 
 I am with good and worthy people, who took much care of 
 me when I w^as ill ; and I like Bath better than Lonnon, as 
 you cockneys call it ; and, except once more to revisit the 
 dear interesting Rome, I never desire to see Italy again in all 
 my born days. Of Florence I had much too much. Adieu, 
 dear friend. 
 
 Yours ever truly, 
 
 S. H. BURNEY. 
 
 April 5th, — At seven I dined with Rolfe. An interesting 
 party, — in all twelve. Among them were Jeffrey, once editor 
 of the Edinburgh Review, now Lord Jeffrey, a Scotch judge ; 
 Rand, an American lawyer, Empson, Sutton Sharpe, Duck- 
 worth,* Milne, a young barrister, &c. Jeffrey is a sharp and 
 clever-looking man, and, in spite of my dislike to his name, he 
 did not on the w^hole displease me. His treatment of Vv^ords- 
 worth would not allow me to like him, had he been greater by 
 far than he was. And therefore when he said, ^' I was alw^ays 
 an admirer of Wordsworth," I could not repress the unseemly 
 remark, " You had a singular way of showing your admira- 
 tion." 
 
 H. C. R. TO Benecke. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildings, 27th April, 1835. 
 My dear Sir, — I am convinced that whenever the at- 
 tempt is made to introduce into England such a scheme of 
 theology as you have ausgedacht (thought out), the greatest 
 difficulty of its being made accessible to English understand- 
 ings w411 arise more from the neglect of the faculty of severe 
 thought in this country, than from a want of sympathy in re- 
 ligious feeling. I believe that you would have found a " fit 
 audience, though few," among the Puritans of the seventeenth 
 century. Perhaps, too, among such Churchmen as Barrow, 
 Cudworth, Hooker, Jeremy Taylor. By the by, I shall be 
 anxious to know your opinion of the " Holy Dying." Perhaps 
 Taylor is the least profound of all the gi'eat men I have men- 
 tioned. As an orator, he stands at the head. I will seek 
 some other specimen of his composition. Eminent 'writers not 
 
 * One of the Masters in Chancery. 
 
210 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 clergymen of the Established Church are Baxter, Howe, Law 
 (the translator of '^ Jacob Boehme "). But the most awfully 
 tremendous of all metaphysical divines is the American ultra- 
 Calvinist, Jonathan Edwards, whose book on " Original Sin " 
 I unhappily read when a very young man. It did me an irrep- 
 arable mischief. But it is a work of transcendent intellectual 
 power. I am sure you will find it has been translated. Its 
 object was to display the Calvinistic scheme in all its intensity 
 and merciless severity. The strict justice of punishing all 
 men eternally for the sin of one man was insisted on as a con- 
 sequence of the infinite justice of God ; the possibility of sal- 
 vation was deduced from the sovereignty of God's grace ; and 
 the absolute and invincible predestination to eternal suffering 
 of all on whom that grace was not freely conferred (for whom 
 alone the atoning sacrifice of Christ was performed) was most 
 barbarously maintained. 
 
 I should like to know what is thought of Jonathan Edwards ; 
 I do not say by yourself, — for on a portion of that subject I 
 am happy that you have explained yourself satisfactorily, — 
 but by the reputed orthodox of the modern Evangelical Church. 
 The other books, which I sent rather to Mrs. Bene eke than 
 yourself, have, I dare say, pleased you. I wish Mrs. Benecke 
 w^ould amuse herself, or procure some friend to do so, by trans- 
 lating Mrs. Barbauld's " Essay on Inconsistent Expectations." 
 I hold it to be one of the most exquisite morsels of English 
 prose ever written. And it had the most salutary effect on 
 me. When a young man I met with it, and so deeply was 
 I impressed with it, that I can truly say I never repined 
 at any one want or loss, or the absence of any good that has 
 befallen me 
 
 You will have sympathized with us during the recent conflict 
 between the Reformers and anti-Reformers, The Reformers 
 have gained a temporary victory, but the battle is not yet over. 
 There has been, certainly, a reaction towards Toryism. But 
 to that degree is Toryism vanquished, that Sir Robert Peel 
 could only gain a hearing by professing to be himself a Re- 
 former. So that now it is a question, not of Reform and no 
 
 Reform, but of how much Reform My opinion is that great 
 
 caution is requisite, in order to enable the Whigs to retain their 
 very small majority. I believe that both Whigs and Radicals 
 have seen their former error. Though that enormous abuse 
 the Episcopal Church in Ireland must ultimately bie sacrificed, 
 yet the Whigs have for the present contented themselves with 
 
1835.] WORDSWORTH ON HIS CRITICS. 211 
 
 asserting the right to apply the surphis of the Church revenue 
 to the education of the Catholic poor of Ireland. And so much 
 the Lords must yield. The Radicals will be wise enough to 
 press for no more at present 
 
 April 28th, — I wrote to Miss Denman to tell her of my 
 having spoken to Spring Rice, the Chancellor of the Excheq- 
 uer, about her collection of Flaxman's remains ; he says that 
 the suggestion that the whole should be deposited in the 
 National Gallery is worth consideration. I am to remind him 
 of this by letter. 
 
 April 30th, — Read the dedication to '^Don Juan." Byron's 
 wdt and satirical talent of the highest order. Some of his 
 small poems — the stanzas written on his birthday, just before 
 his death — show that he was not wanting in true feeling, 
 though there was with it a perverted and diseased sensibility. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 - [No date, but 1835 written on the outside.] 
 
 At breakfast this morning we received from some unknown 
 friend the Examiner, containing a friendly notice of my late 
 volume. It is discreditable to say that these things interest me 
 little but as they may tend to promote the sale, which, with 
 the prospects of unavoidable expense before me, is a greater 
 object to me, much greater than it otherwise would have been. 
 The testimonies, which I receive very frequently, of the effect 
 of my wTitings upon the hearts and minds of men, are indeed 
 very gratifying, because I am sure they must be w^ritten under 
 pure influences, but it is not necessarily, or even probably, so 
 with strictures intended for the public. The one are effusions^ 
 the other compositions, and liable in various degrees to inter- 
 mixtures that take from their value. It is amusing to me to 
 have proofs how critics and authors differ in judgment, both 
 as to fundamentals and incidentals ; as an instance of the 
 latter, see the passage where I speak of Horace, quoted in the 
 Examiner. The critic marks in italics, for approbation, certain 
 passages, but he takes no notice of three w^ords, in delicacy of 
 feeling worth, in my estimation, all the rest : "He only listen- 
 ing." Again, what he observes in praise of my mode of deal- 
 ing with nature, as opposed to my treatment of human life, 
 which, as he said, is not be trusted, would be reversed, as it 
 has been by many who maintain that I run into excess in my 
 
212 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 pictures of the influences of natural objects, and assign to them 
 an importance that they are not entitled to j while in my treat- 
 ment of the intellectual instincts, affections, and passions of man- 
 kind, I am nobly distinguished by having drawn out into notice 
 the points in which men resemble each other, in preference 
 to dwelling, as dramatic authors must do, upon those in which 
 they differ. If my writings are to last, it w411, I myself be- 
 lieve, be mainly owing to this characteristic. They will please 
 for the single cause, 
 
 " That we have all of us one human heart." 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildings, May 4, 1835. 
 
 .... It was I who sent you the Examiner, The article 
 was written by Forster, the sub-editor. I sent it because it 
 was written manifestly in a spirit of honest love. The praise 
 was not grudgingly given. Indeed, it is pleasing to remark 
 this everywhere ; I have not yet heard of a hostile review. I 
 quite assent to your remarks on criticism. Among Goethe's 
 significant poems, having much of the enigma in them, there 
 is one called Geheimnisse (Secrets), in which there is a line 
 that I have applied equally to his works and yours, — 
 
 *' Das ganze Lied es kann doch niemand kennen." 
 
 (No one can know the whole song.) Portions are enjoyed 
 variously by readers in their several stages of refinement. 
 There is no one, — not even an Edinburgh Reviewer, — who 
 cannot enjoy some. Who can presume to think he has com- 
 prehended all ] I have only one wish as far as you are con- 
 cerned, — that you would condescend occasionally to assist in 
 the parturition, as Socrates said he did, borrowing the art 
 from his mother. 
 
 My personal enjoyment of these new^ poems has been great, 
 even beyond hope. You have all the peculiar graces which 
 distinguish your early works ; and you, at the same time, have 
 been making inroads on the walks of others. 
 
 June 26th. — The post brought me a very sad letter from 
 Wordsworth. Miss Hutchinson "^ died on the 23d. She was 
 thought to be the healthiest of the family, — their stay under 
 the dangerous illness of Miss Wordsworth and of Dora. 
 
 ♦ Mrs. Wordsworth's sister. 
 
1836.] ON MACKINTOSH. 213 
 
 June 27th, — I went in the morning to Miss Denman, and 
 introduced her and Miss Edgar to the London University. 
 Brougham delivered the prizes in the Faculty of Arts; he 
 made one of his flaming speeches, — very interesting to the 
 general public, but rather prosy to me. He went over the old 
 ground — about the not having religion taught, and the inu- 
 tility of subscriptions — very satisfactorily, remarking that a 
 university of infidels would not scruple signing any articles 
 whatever. The speech was rapturously received. Lord 
 Brougham, in the council-room, asked me to look over the 
 proof-sheets of the German translation of his " Natural The- 
 ology." 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildin(JS, July 31, 1835. 
 
 .... This brings Mackintosh and his recent " Life " to my 
 mind. Surely Mackintosh's letter to Hall is a masterpiece ! 
 That is not the word ; for it is not a work of art, it is a mani- 
 festation of very fine moral tact. The book, on the whole, 
 raises Mackintosh, not with respect to his powers of mind, but 
 in point of morals. The index will enable you to get at the 
 
 interesting matter easily His humility is remarkable. 
 
 His journals must be sincere. I was astonished to read two 
 thoughts, which, though I have often uttered them myself, I 
 did not think any one ever did before, or would again. He 
 says that some one had a great dislike to him ; and adds : *^ I 
 think it more likely that I should have disreputable and disa- 
 greeable qualities, than that should have taken an un- 
 reasonable prejudice against me ! " He adds elsewhere : " I 
 should not respect my own character in another person." .... 
 
 July 7th. — Took tea at JaiFray's. He read me a letter from 
 Bridport, about the chances of my being elected at that place. 
 He w^ould assist me personally, and perhaps secure me many 
 of the second votes of Twiss's party ; w^hile, of course, I should 
 have the second votes of Warburton's party in preference to 
 Twiss. So that were here only Twiss, Warburton, and my 
 self, I should have a fair chance. But I would not stand 
 against Romilly ; and Strutt, to whom I spoke after leaving 
 JafFray's, says he believes an ofi:er will be made to bring in 
 Eomilly free of expense. If so, the idea must be given up. 
 
 November 22cL — I went to Sergeant Talfourd, with whom I 
 had a long and friendly chat about Mary Lamb, Charles Lamb's 
 
214 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 correspondence, <fec. Talfourd says the letters are most de- 
 lightful, though many of them cannot be published. The later 
 letters, as well as writings, far superior to the earlier. Writing 
 
 to Manning, Charles Lamb says : '^ says he could write 
 
 like Shakespeare if he had a mind, — so you see nothing is 
 wanting but the mind,^^ 
 
 November 29th. — I breakfasted with Mr. Eogers tete-cl-tete, 
 staying with him from ten till one o'clock. A very agreeable 
 morning, and I left him with feelings of enhanced respect. 
 There was very little of that severity of remark for which he 
 is reproached. Candor and good sense marked all he said. 
 We talked about Wordsworth, Byron, and Goethe. He seems 
 sufficiently prepossessed in favor of Goethe, and I have lent him 
 Mrs. Austin's book. Of Lord ByTon he spoke freely, especial- 
 ly of his sensitiveness as to what was said of him. He spoke 
 very highly of Wordsworth, but with qualifications which 
 would not satisfy Wordsworth's admirers. He thinks he is 
 likely now" to be over-lauded, as he was before to be under- 
 rated. I was least prepared for his affirming that Wordsworth 
 is a careless versifier, — he thinks his blank verse better than 
 his rhymes. On moral subjects and religion Rogers showed 
 much seriousness. He spoke of the much greater distinctness 
 with which he could recollect his faults than his kind actions : 
 *' Every man has his kind moments ; of course I, as w^ell as 
 others, — and it is distressing I cannot recollect them." — "A 
 Pharisee would," I replied, " and surely it is better not,^^ 
 Eogers produced a small volume, which he praised greatly, — 
 " Clio on Taste, by J. Usher." 
 
 Deccmher Sd, — Went in the evening to Moxon's. With him 
 was Miss Lamb. She was very comfortable, — not in high 
 spirits, — but calm, and she seemed to enjoy the sight of so 
 many old friends. There were Carey, Allsop, and Miss James. 
 No direct talk about her brother. Wordsworth's epitaph she 
 disapproves. She does not like any allusion to his being a 
 clerk, or to family misfortunes. This is very natural. Not 
 even dear Mary can overcome the common feeling that would 
 conceal lowness of station, or a reference to ignoble sufferings. 
 On the other hand, Wordsworth says : " Lamb's submitting to 
 that mechanical employment placed him in fine moral contrast 
 with other men of genius, — his contemporaries, — who, in 
 sacrificing personal independence, have made a wreck of moral- 
 ity and honor, to a degree which it is painful to consider. To 
 me, this was a noble feature in Lamb's life, and furnishes an 
 admirable lesson, by which thousands might profit/* 
 
1835.] ON GIVING UP CHAMBERS. 215 
 
 December 16th, — At night began Allsop's ** Letters of Cole- 
 ridge." It is full of odd things. Coleridge is shown more unre- 
 servedly than by his nephew. A capital expression, which will 
 be misunderstood, is to this effect : " I asked Clarkson whether 
 he ever thought of the fate of his soul hereafter. He said he 
 had no time, he thought only of the slaves in Barbadoes. Wil- 
 berforce," it is added, " cared nothing about the slaves, provid- 
 ed he saved his own soul." (This was grossly unjust to Wilber- 
 force.) " As there is a worldliness, or too much care for this 
 life, so there is another worldliness, or other worldliness, equally 
 hateful and selfish with this worldliness." This is admirable. 
 One sentence in AUsop's book, given as Coleridge's, is worth 
 quoting : " By priest I mean a man who, holding the scourge 
 of power in his right hand, and a Bible translated by author- 
 ity in the other, doth necessarily cause the Bible and the scourge 
 to be associated ideas, and so produces that temper of mind 
 that leads to infidelity, — infidehty which, judging of revela- 
 tion by the doctrines and practices of established churches, 
 honors God by rejecting Christ ^ 
 
 December 19th. — I spent the evening at the Athenaeum, 
 and was industrious, for I wrote letters to Mrs. Clarkson, giv- 
 ing her an account of the Wordsworths, also of Coleridge's 
 '' Letters." I am going to send Mrs. Clarkson a present of 
 Lamb's Works, — a memorial that I owed my acquaintance 
 with Lamb to her. 
 
 From H. C. R. to Mr. Masquerier. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildings, Temple, December 22, 1835. 
 
 1 feel that I ought to communicate to you any incident of 
 importance in my unimportant life. I have at length reluc- 
 tantly, and against my owai judgment, yielded to my friends 
 and resolved to give up my chambers at Lady Day. You have 
 contributed to bring me to this determination, for you, like 
 others, have said, " How uncomfortable you must be, living 
 alone in chambers ! " Now, in fact, I have never been un- 
 comfortable, but have enjoyed myself, and only yielded to 
 others under a notion that perhaps I should soon feel what 
 others suppose I already feel. It is curious to recollect that I 
 have always been troubled at every change in my mode of liv- 
 ing. I haA'-e always said : "I shall never be so well f^ff as I 
 have been " ; and yet, in fact, when settled, I have generally 
 been better than before. So w^as it when I went to Germany, 
 
216 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 — SO when I came back, — so when I connected myself with 
 Walter, — so when I went to and retired from the bar, &c., 
 &c. And yet I cannot help fearing still, — I have this in 
 common with Rousseau (we have nothing else in common), — 
 that, as he says, he never regretted the past, but was always 
 very anxious about the future. I have three months to pre- 
 pare myself. That 's one comfort. And part of that time 
 will be spent in trying to impart amusement and receive profit 
 from the society of my friends in the North. I set out for 
 Wordsworth's on Wednesday morning. I shall remain with 
 him a few weeks ; and I shall take advantage of the being 
 without a home to make another foreign trip, — the last, prob- 
 ably. I mean to go to Barron Field * in April, and after ac- 
 companying him into Spain, I mean to go either to Italy or 
 Greece. I do not intend being absent more than a year. And 
 then, — why, then, my grand climacteric will be approaching, 
 and I must try to ward off the enemy by strength, if I can 
 call up any, — if not, summon patience to endure pain. In 
 the mean while let us hope that you and Madame w^ill, like me, 
 be meeting the approach of years with all practicable cheerful- 
 ness. " An impertinent fellow ! " I hear Madame exclaim, " to 
 compare me with himself. We are chickens to him, love ! We 
 are not between sixty and seventy, nor anything like it ! ! " 
 That is true, and ought to enter into all calculations concern- 
 ing the probabilities of life. It is equally true that hitherto 
 I have had less cause of complaint. By the by, I am just now 
 become again rheumatic. I am like Mother Cole, full of aches. 
 My journey to Rydal Mount will do me no good, I fear. But 
 then, if the disease continue, it will furnish an additional rea- 
 son for travelling southward. I lost my former and worse 
 rheumatism there. Why should I not also lose the new one 1 
 Adieu, and a merry Christmas to you both ! With my best 
 compliments to aU those who honor me by recollecting me. 
 
 December 2Sd, — Travelled to Manchester in the " Tele- 
 graph " coach. Travelled more rapidly than ever before, - — 
 going about 180 miles in one day. The great rapidity of the 
 motion had, I believe, an effect on my spirits, for I felt no 
 ennui, although the coach was ill built, and did not allow of 
 my taking a comfortable nap. I had no companionable fellow- 
 traveller, and the cold w^as so intense, that the breath of the 
 passengers, being congealed on the glass, formed a blind which 
 
 * Then Judge at Gibraltar. 
 
1835.] FIRST CHRISTMAS WITH WORDSWORTH. 217 
 
 perpetual wiping could not effectually remove. We left Lon- 
 don at half past five, and at half past eight were safely lodged 
 at the Star, at Manchester. 
 
 December 25th. — Having breakfasted, I set out (from Keii- 
 dal, which I reached yesterday evening) at eight, and arrived 
 at Rydal at about half past ten. I was set down at a small 
 house at the foot of Rydal Hill, kept by a Mrs. Atkins. Here 
 I found a fire in the sitting-room intended for me. I was ex^ 
 pected last night. Mrs. Wordsworth had left tea and sugar 
 for me ; and I saw an omen of comfort in these lodgings in 
 the agreeable countenance of my landlady. Without waiting 
 to dress, I ran up to the Wordsw^orths, from whom I had a 
 very kind reception. They approve of my plan of spending 
 my mornings alone. We dined — as they do usually here — 
 very early. One is the dinner-hour. The rest of the day was 
 spent within, except that Wordsworth and I took a walk be- 
 yond Dr. Arnold's house with the Doctor himself. 
 
 Rem* — This year's visit to Wordsworth, at a season when 
 most persons shun the lakes, was succeeded by many others. 
 Indeed there were few interruptions until old age and death 
 put an end to this and other social enjoyments. The custom 
 began in consequence of a pressing invitation by Mrs. Words- 
 worth, who stated — and I have no reason to doubt her per- 
 fect sincerity — that she believed it would promote his health, 
 my " buoyant spirits," to borrow his own words, having a 
 cheering effect on him. I gladly accepted the invitation, but 
 insisted on this condition, — that lodgings should be taken for 
 me in the neighborhood of Rydal Mount. In these lodgings I 
 was to sleep and breakfast ; the day I was to spend with the 
 Words worths, and I was to return in the evening to my lodg- 
 ings and a fire and a milk supper. I soon became known in 
 the neighborhood, and was considered as one of the family. 
 The family then consisted, besides themselves, of Miss Words- 
 worth (Dorothy, — the sister ^' Emily " of the poems, and our 
 companion in the Swiss tour) ; but already her health had 
 broken down. In her youth and middle age she stood in 
 somewhat the same relation to her brother William as dear 
 Mary Lamb to her brother Charles. In her long illness, she 
 was fond of repeating the favorite small poems of her brother, 
 as well as a few of her own. And this she did in so sweet a 
 tone as to be quite pathetic. 
 
 The temporary obscurations of a noble mmd can never 
 
 * Written in 1853. 
 VOL. II. 10 
 
218 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 11. 
 
 obliterate the recollections of its inherent and essential worth. 
 There are two fine lines in Goethe's ^' Tasso," which occur per- 
 petually to my mind, and are peculiarly applicable here. I 
 can give them only in this shape : — 
 
 *' These are not phantoms bred within the brain; 
 I know they are eternal, for they are." 
 
 Wordsworth's daughter Dora * — Dorina, as I called her by 
 way of distinction — was in somewhat better health than 
 usual, but generally her state of health was a subject of anxi- 
 ety. She was the apple of her father's eye. Mrs. Words- 
 worth was what I have ever known her ; and she will ever be, 
 I have no doubt, while life remains, perfect of her kind. I 
 did not know her when she was the '' phaptom of delight." 
 But ever since I have known her she has been 
 
 " A perfect woman nobly planned, 
 To warn, to comfort, and command." 
 
 Because she is so admirable a person, there is little to say of 
 her in detail. 
 
 The servants have been generally the same since I have 
 known the family. The females excellent. One man-servant, 
 James, I shall be able to characterize w4th more effect here- 
 after. 
 
 [The feeling with which Mr. Robinson's visit w^as looked for 
 year after year at Rydal Mount is shown in many letters, from 
 two of which a few w^ords may be given here : " All look for- 
 ward to your aiTival," writes Quillinan, *' as to the holly-branch, 
 without which no Christmas will be genuine." — "I always 
 sing the same song, — no Crabb, no Christmas ! But you will 
 come about the 18th of December. That is settled."] 
 
 December 26th, — What I have to say of to-day will proba- 
 bly be an anticipation of my days during my stay here. I 
 read in bed for a couple of hours, for I awoke early. I sat 
 within, — not till dinner-time, as it happened, for about twelve 
 Mrs. Wordsworth, passing in a gig, proposed my taking Words- 
 worth out. I called on him, and we had a fine dry walk about 
 Grasmere Lake, crossed the stream at the head, and returned 
 on the western side. I stayed at Rydal Mount, as I generally 
 shall do, the rest of the day, and in the dark hour I walked 
 out with Wordsworth to Ambleside, — the excuse, to ask for a 
 paper. We returned to our tea at six, and at nine I came 
 home, having ordered a fire in my bedroom, at which I sat till 
 twelve, and then read in bed till one. Such will probably be 
 
 • Afterwards Mrs. Quillinan. 
 
1835.] LAMB'S LETTERS TO WORDSWORTH. 219 
 
 my life for the next few weeks. My kind and agreeable land- 
 lady makes me excellent toast ; I have my own tea ; and a 
 ham has been provided by Mrs. Wordsworth. In the evening 
 I take a morsel of bread and ham, to keep off the foul fiend. 
 Such is my home life. I have a small, rather dark sitting- 
 room, near the road; it has the advantage of the stage to 
 Keswick passing three days a week (it came five minutes ago). 
 A cottage-like apartment, very comfortable ; a similar bedroom 
 behind. For this I am to pay, Mrs. Wordsworth says, 10 5. a 
 week, and 3 5. 6 d. for fire. I must not, however, forget that 
 I spent two hours this morning in looking over those letters of 
 Charles Lamb's which Wordsworth did not choose to send to 
 Talfourd for publication. There are several most delightful 
 letters, which one regrets not to be able to print immediately. 
 There are also some which Wordsworth will allow me to 
 copy in part, and some from which notes may be taken. 
 
 December 28th. — A day of uninterrupted quiet enjoyment. 
 I read in Southey's " Cowper," and continued Lamb's letters 
 till one. After dinner I chatted with Wordsworth de omnibus 
 rebus^ and between three and four we set out for a walk, not- 
 withstanding the bad weather, for it had rained all the morn- 
 ing, and threatened to rain again. We left a message at Dr. 
 Arnold's house, and strolled on to the shore of Windermere. 
 The angry clouds left Langdale Pikes a grand object, — more 
 grand, perhaps, surrounded by black stormy clouds, than illu- 
 mined by the sun. 
 
 December 29th, — I woke early and read in bed Crabbe's 
 "Life." It did not much interest me. I take no pleasure in 
 Crabbe's unpoetical representations of human life. And though 
 no one can dispute that he had a powerful pen, and could 
 truthfully portray what he saw, yet he had an eye only for the 
 sad realities of life. As Mrs. Barbauld said to me many years 
 ago, " I shall never be tired of Goldsmith's ' Deserted Village,' 
 — I shall never look again into Crabbe's 'Village.' Indeed, 
 this impression is so strong, that I have never read his later 
 works, and know little about them." 
 
220 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 1836. 
 
 JANUARY Sd. — At church. Dr. Arnold preached an impres- 
 sive discourse, which excited feelings in me too serious to 
 be more than adverted to here. The subject was a reconciling 
 of the seeming contradictions of passages implying that God 
 will listen, and will not listen, to the prayers addressed to him. 
 But he could not unravel *he knot which no divine has ever 
 unravelled, that without grace no one can pray, and yet grace 
 is to be imparted to those only who duly ask for it. That is, 
 grace is granted only to those who have it already. How I 
 should prize the CEdipus that would solve this riddle. 
 
 January 7th.- — After an early luncheon I walked partly, 
 and partly drove, with Wordsworth to Elleray, the residence 
 of Lady Farquhar and Mr. Hamilton, the property of Profes- 
 sor Wilson. It stands above Windermere, and enjoys a very 
 wide view of the lake, which I next morning saw, though dis- 
 advantageously, through a mist. We had a very agreeable 
 afternoon. On our walk Wordsworth was remarkably eloquent 
 and felicitous in his praise of Milton. He spoke of the "Para- 
 dise Regained " as surpassing even the " Paradise Lost " in 
 perfection of execution, though the theme is far below it, and 
 demanding less power. He spoke of the description of the 
 storm in it as the finest in all poetry ; and he pointed out 
 some of the artifices of versification by which Milton produces 
 so great an effect, — as in passages like this : — 
 
 " Pining atrophy, 
 Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, 
 Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums." 
 
 In which the power of the final rheums is heightened by the 
 atrophy and pestilence. Wordsworth also praised, but not 
 equally, *^ Samson Agonistes." He concurred, he said, with 
 Johnson in this, that it had no middle, but the beginning and 
 end are equally sublime. 
 
 January 8th, — An agreeable forenoon. Mrs. Wordsworth 
 came at twelve, and with her I drove home. I dined with Dr. 
 Arnold. I like him more the more I see of him. The Hard- 
 ens there, also Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Some of the party 
 
1836.] SHELLEY. — AUTOBIOGRAPHY SUGGESTED. 221 
 
 were Tories, but they did not restrain the rest of us in the ex- 
 ercise of Whiggish habits. We talked freely. The Doctor 
 certainly talks more freely than I ever heard a D. D. talk ; ahd 
 from the head-master of so great an establishment as Rugby 
 School (where, I believe, there are 300 pupils), this is a signifi- 
 cant sign of the times. The Doctor is to be one of the exam- 
 iners in the London University. He has, however, required 
 that he shall be at liberty to refer to Christianity as a system 
 of divine truth, not a mere scheme of philosophy. But he 
 says Christianity shall be referred to in a way that shall offend 
 no sect whatever. The Doctor expressed (but that was on 
 Sunday) an opinion against the Satan of Milton. He thinks 
 the Satan too good a character ; he is not enough of a devil, — 
 not the personification of Evil. And the fight between the 
 rebellious and obedient angels resembles too much the war of 
 the Giants in Greek Mythology. 
 
 January 10th, — Read the notes to Shelley's " Queen Mab," 
 as well as, here and there, bits of his poetry. His atheism is 
 very repulsive. The God he denies seems to be, after all, the 
 God of the superstitious. I suspect that he has been guilty 
 of the fault of which I find I have all my life been guilty, 
 though not to the same extent as he, of inferring that there can 
 be no truth behind the palpable falsehoods propounded to one. 
 He draws in one of his notes a picture of Christianity, or 
 rather, he sums up the Christian doctrines, and in such a way, 
 that perhaps Wordsworth would say : " This I disbelieve as 
 much as Shelley, but that is only the caricature and burlesque 
 of Christianity." There is much very delightful poetry in 
 Shelley. 
 
 January ISth. — It may be worth mentioning, that Words- 
 worth has himself intimated, what many other friends have 
 done, that I ought to leave in writing, if not myself publish, 
 some account of my life. He is a severe and fastidious judge, 
 and his recommendation is by far the most encouraging I have 
 received. It has the more weight, because he has very re- 
 straining opinions on the limits to be set to the repetition of 
 anecdotes and the publication of letters. He has, however, 
 praised my anecdotes of Wieland, and says I should do well to 
 give an account of Goethe. 
 
 Wordsworth's conversation has been very interesting lately, 
 and had I not so bad a memory, that a few hours suffice to 
 obscure all I have heard, I might insert many a remarkable 
 c pinion, if. not fact He gave an account of "The Ancient 
 
222 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 Mariner " being written in Devonshire when he and Coleridge 
 were together. It was intended for the Monthly Magazine^ 
 and was to pay the expenses of a journey. It was to have 
 been a joint work, but Wordsworth left the execution to Cole- 
 ridge, after suggesting much of the plan. The idea of the 
 crime was suggested by a book of travels," in which the super- 
 stition of the sailors with regard to the albatross is mentioned. 
 Wordsworth wrote many of his lyrical ballads at the same 
 time. Coleridge wrote the first four lines of "- We are Seven." 
 
 January 15th. — Having had no walk yesterday, Words- 
 worth was with me early this morning to walk to Ambleside, 
 in spite of the snow, and I found a snow scene quite pleasant 
 in this mountainous country. At five I accompanied Words- 
 worth to Dr. Arnold's. I had sent the Doctor Professor Mai- 
 den's address of the Senate to the Council of the London 
 University, which he warmly praised. Wordsworth had also 
 spoken well of it. 
 
 January 17th. — After church to-day an agreeable chat with 
 Dr. Arnold. The following are some notes of what he said : 
 '* The atonement is a doctrine which has its foundation in that 
 consciousness of unworthiness and guilt which arises from an 
 upright self-examination. All the orthodox doctrines are war- 
 ranted by a humble spirit, and all that is best in our moral 
 nature. There is internal evidence for all these doctrines, 
 which are a source of happiness. And the difficulty of com- 
 prehending the mysteries of the Gospel is no sufficient reason 
 for rejection. It is not necessary to define with precision the 
 doctrines thus received, and the Church of England has en- 
 cumbered itself by needless and mischievous attempts at ex- 
 planation. The Athanasian Creed is one of these unhappy 
 excrescences. Nor does the idea of the personality of the 
 Spirit come with such authority, or claim so imperiously our 
 adoption, as the doctrine of the divinity of Christ. The thought 
 that an infinitely pure being can receive satisfaction from the 
 sufferings of Jesus Christ, and accept them as a satisfaction for 
 the sins of the guilty, is declared by Coleridge to be an out- 
 rage on common sense. It is a hard saying, nor can I explain 
 it to my satisfaction. I leave this as an awful mystery I am 
 not called on to solve. Coleridge used to declare that the be- 
 lief in miracles is not a necessary part of a Christian's creed ; 
 but this is contrary to the express and uniform declaration of 
 the Scriptures. And I have no difficulty in believing in mira- 
 cles, since I consider as superstition the imagined knowledge 
 
183t>.] WORDSWORTH ON THE SONNET. 223 
 
 and certainty which men suppose they have as to the laws of 
 Nature." 
 
 Jcuiuary 26th, — I wish I could here write down all that 
 Wordsworth has said about the Sonnet lately, or record here 
 the fine fourteen lines of Milton's " Paradise Lost," which he 
 says are a perfect sonnet without rhyme, and essentially one in 
 unity of thought. Wordsworth does not approve of uniformly 
 closing the second quatrain with a full stop, and of giving a 
 turn to the thought in the terzines. This is the Italian mode ; 
 Milton lets the thought run over. He has used both forms in- 
 differently. I prefer the Italian form. Wordsworth does not 
 approve of closing the sonnet with a couplet,* and he holds it 
 to be absolutely a vice to have a sharp turning at the end with 
 an epigrammatic point. He does not, therefore, quite approve 
 of the termination of Cowper's " Sonnet to Romney," — 
 
 " Nor couldst thou sorrow see 
 While I was Hayley's guest and sat to thee." 
 
 January 27th. — Dined at Mr. Parry's, at Grasmere. The 
 Arnolds, Lutwidges, Captain Graves, &c. At night the Doctor 
 accompanied me back. We walked over Old Corruption, — 
 for so the Doctor has christened in derision the original road 
 between Rydal and Keswick. The first new road he has named 
 " Bit-by-bit Reform," and the beautiful road by the lake, 
 ''Radical Reform." W"e found Old Corruption here, as else- 
 where, perilous ; and by night might have broken our necks in it. 
 
 January 29th. — I am sorry to recollect that the next page, 
 if ever filled by me, will probably record my departure from 
 this most delightful residence. By the by, I overheard Words- 
 worth say last night to the Doctor, that I had helped him 
 through the winter, and that he should gratefully recollect it 
 as long as he had any memory ! ! Wordsworth speaks highly 
 of the author of " Corn Law Rhymes." He says : " None of 
 us have done better than he has in his best, though there is 
 a deal of stuff arising from his hatred of existing things. Like 
 Byron, Shelley, (fee, he looks on much with an evil eye." 
 W^ordsworth likes his later writings the best, and mentioned 
 the " Ranter " as containing some fine passages. Elliott has 
 a fine eye for nature. He is an extraordinary man. 
 
 January Slst. — It occurs to me that I have not noticed as 
 I ought Wordsworth's answer to the charge that he never 
 quotes other poems than his own. In fact, I can testify to 
 the incorrectness of the statement. But he himself remarked : 
 
 * Yet several of Wordsworth's sonnets close with a couplet- 
 
224 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY OR ABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 " You know how I love and quote not only Shakespeare and 
 Milton, but Cowper, Burns, &c.; as to some of the later poets, 
 I do not quote them because I do not love them. Even as 
 works of mere taste there is this material circumstance, — they 
 came too late. My taste was formed, for I was forty-five when 
 they appeared, and we cannot after that age love new things. 
 New impressions are difficult to make. Had I been young, I 
 should have enjoyed much of them, I do not doubt." 
 
 February 1st. — I left Rydal about eleven o'clock. Of all 
 my friends I took leave with feelings of great tenderness, my 
 esteem for them all being greatly raised during this most 
 agreeable visit. I will here add a note or two of Wordsworth's 
 conversation. Talking of dear Charles Lamb's very strange 
 habit of quizzing, and of Coleridge's incorrectnesses in talk, 
 Wordsworth said he thought that much of this was owing to 
 a school-habit. Lamb's veracity was unquestionable in all mat- 
 ters of a serious kind ; he never uttered an untruth either for 
 profit or through vanity, and certainly never to injure others. 
 Yet he loved a quizzing lie, a fiction that amused him like a 
 good joke, or an exercise of wit.* In Coleridge there was a 
 sort of dreaminess, which would not let him see things as they 
 were. He would talk about his own feelings and recollections 
 and intentions in a way that deceived others, but he was first 
 deceived himself. ^' I am sure," said Wordsworth, " that he 
 never formed a plan of ^Christabel,' or knew what was to be 
 its end, and that he merely deceived himself when he thought, 
 as he says, that he had had the idea quite clearly in his mind. 
 In my childhood," continued Wordsworth, " I was very way- 
 ward and moody. My mother, who was a superior woman, 
 used to say she had no anxieties about any of her children ex- 
 cept William. She was sure he would turn out an extraordi- 
 nary man, — and she hoped a good man, but she was not so 
 sure of that." 
 
 February 2d. — From Kendal I proceeded through Skipton 
 to Leeds, where I spent two evenings with my Yorkshire 
 friends. It was at this time that I first saw Wick steed, the 
 Unitarian minister there, — a man I at once took a fancy to. 
 He is the son of an early friend of WilHam Hazlitt, — the only 
 home acquaintance I ever heard Hazlitt warmly praise. Of 
 Wicksteed I have heard Archdeacon Hare speak in terms of 
 warm praise, calling him a Christian, whether or not a Uni- 
 tarian. 
 
 ♦ See his letter to Manning, Vol. I. p. 254, ** Lamb's Works." 
 
1836.] DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PHILOSOPHIES. 225 
 
 H. C. R. TO Benecke. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildings, March 2, 1836. 
 Every sentence of your letter is weighty, and would allow 
 of a distinct notice from me. But the result of your various 
 remarks on our English theologians is the renewal of a very 
 old impression of the inherent and essential diversity in our 
 English and your German modes of contemplating the great 
 matters of religious philosophy. I say modes, not substance. 
 For, since there is nothing national in the great 'topics which 
 such philosophy involves, it would seem that there ought not 
 to be so great a difference in the works of the several authors, 
 — the great authors of the two languages. I do not at all 
 wonder that you do not relish any of our writers, even of the 
 highest reputation. It is ascribable to the same cause that 
 renders the great masters of German thought unenjoyable by 
 English readers. It is remarkable, that since the great change, 
 introduced only by Kant, in your philosophical studies, not one 
 single book has yet attracted the attention of our scholars or 
 soi-disant thinkers. Of the metaphysicians, scarcely a book has 
 even been translated. A few congenial minds (Coleridge, for 
 in^ance) have announced that there is a something worth 
 knowing ; but the mass care little about it. It is only in con- 
 nection with religion that an attempt has been made to draw 
 attention to your great men. I have heard of a translation of 
 the first volume of Xeander's " Church History " ; and also of 
 a work of Schleiermacher on St. Luke ; but I believe both have 
 Mien dead-born from the press. It is asserted by our Church- 
 men, that German theology is either crypto-infidelity, or mys- 
 tical fanaticism. Every attempt to recommend the Gospel to 
 thinkers by the slightest departiu-e from the authorized inter- 
 pretation is received with scorn. Probably you have heard of 
 the very recent clamor raised by the Tory High Churchmen at 
 Oxford against a Dr. Hampden, on the ground of his being a 
 Socinian. Now, I have been informed by a young clergyman, 
 whom I know to be a serious believer in the orthodox doctrines, 
 that his Bampton Lectures, which profess to treat of the rela- 
 tion of the scholastic philosophy to the Scripture, contain the 
 most explicit and solemn assertion of the Doctor's belief in the 
 doctrine of the Trinity ; but he admonishes the clerical student 
 to study the Scriptures more than the school-men. He insinu- 
 ates his regret that Churchmen have presumed to be wise be- 
 yond what is written, and, instead of leaving the awful mys- 
 
 10* 
 
226 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 teries, as they are, objects of reverential faith and adoption, 
 have tried to define and ascertain exactly what they infer must 
 have been meant, though it has not been expressed. By the 
 by, did I ever mention to you the famous Oxford Convocation 
 a year ago, on the subject of matriculation 1 If I did, excuse 
 me the repetition ; if I did not, you will be interested by what 
 I have to mention. On a matriculation at Oxford, the young 
 man is forced to declare his '^ unfeigned assent to every matter 
 and thing contained in the Thirty-Nine Articles^ This has long 
 been a theme of reproach and derision, and therefore a proposal 
 was made to substitute a declaration to this effect : That the 
 subscriber is a member of the Church of England, as far as he 
 yet understands its doctrines ; that he will obey its precepts, 
 and conform to its rites, during his period of study at the Uni- 
 versity ; and that he will labor to understand its doctrines, that 
 he may become an intelligent member of the Church. This was 
 rejected with angry violence by five out of six ; all the country 
 clergymen coming up to vote ! ! ! And these are the people who 
 really feel contempt for German theology and German philoso- 
 phy ! .... To return to the great difference between oiir Eng- 
 lish and your German habits of thought. I am most deeply 
 impressed w4th the conviction, that your profounder thinkers *and 
 writers are beyond the comprehension of us, because the think- 
 ing faculty is left with us in a half-uncultivated state. What- 
 ever lies deeper than ordinary logic is out of our reach. Where 
 we even concur in the result, the intellectual process is very dif- 
 ferent. And I never meet with a German book of the highest 
 order in which I do not find a something at which I stand at 
 a loss, — a thought I cannot be sure I thoroughly compre- 
 hend. It was so in the study of your preface, in which there 
 was at the same time so much that I heartily relished be- 
 cause I fancied I understood it HeiT von Raumer, 
 
 who was here last year, said everywhere that the pretensions 
 of the English clergy to retain their Church in a country 
 where they barely formed a tenth of the population was a sub- 
 ject of astonishment to all the thinking Protestants in Ger- 
 many 
 
 I am gratified by your obliging proposal to me to repeat my 
 visit to Heidelberg. Be assured that if my health continues I 
 
 shall not delay many years a renewal of the pleasure 
 
 Of all the friends I have, there is no one from whom I hear 
 religious doctrines asserted with so strong an impression on my 
 part that they deserve adoption 
 
1S86.] LANDOR ON ART 227 
 
 March 12th. — I dined at the Athenaeum with Sheil, and 
 accompanied him to the Lyceum, where Liston afforded us a 
 hearty laugh. He also played capitally an old coachman in 
 another piece, but hardly better than young Mathews did a 
 young coachee. This young man, whom I saw for the first 
 time, promises to rival his father. His activity in dancing and 
 singing is marvellous. The Tarantella dance and a Neapolitan 
 song were delightful. 
 
 May 5th. — An interesting day. Landor and Kenyon break- 
 fasted with me, and they enjoyed each others company, and I 
 that of both. They are very opposite characters. We did not 
 break up till past two, and yet of a long-continued and varied 
 conversation, I cannon now recollect a w^ord. This is the w^ater 
 spilled that cannot be gathered. Yet water so spilled often 
 fructifies. But not when it falls on exhausted soil ! Heigh-ho ! 
 I walked out w^ith Landor, and, pour passer le temps, we went 
 into the National Gallery. There he amused me by his odd 
 judgments of pictures. A small Correggio, w4th the frame, he 
 values at 14 5. The " Lazarus " would be cheap at anything 
 below £ 20,000. 
 
 May 6th. — Went to the play at Covent Garden. The pit 
 is reduced to 2 s., and the audience are reduced in like manner. 
 I enjoyed Power more than any actor I have seen for a long 
 time. Except Farren, I know^ none so perfect. He is the most 
 delightful Irishman imaginable. He contrives to be the Irish 
 peasant with perfect truth, — a droll, affectionate, rattling, 
 drunken creature, and yet there is an air of gentility about 
 him which distinguishes him fi:'om every other' comic actor 
 I am acquainted with. He is a man of talents top. I am 
 told his travels in America are exceedingly well written, 
 and show a spirit of observation and sagacity, and a power 
 of description, creditable to an established wTiter. He played 
 this evening Teddy the Tiler, and in ^' O'Flanagan and the 
 Fairies." 
 
 May 8th. — In the evening called at Talfourd's. He was 
 gone to dine with Lord Melbourne. I knew Talfourd when he 
 w^as a young man studying the law, unable to follow the pro- 
 fession but by earning money as a reporter, and in other ways. 
 He has now so risen that he dines with the Prime Minister. 
 I must add that a more ujDright and honorable man never ex- 
 isted. A generous friend, and on public matters a sound and 
 judicious thinker. 
 
228 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Ciiaf. 12. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 8th May, 1836. 
 
 I felt much obliged by your kind reception of my former 
 letter. I do not mean to revert to the subject of the relative 
 merits or demerits of Dissenters, but I deem a Dissenting edu- 
 cation highly favorable to integrity and veracity. I should 
 say decidedly (speaking of the lower classes especially), that, 
 though less amiable, they are more honest than those of their 
 own class of the Establishment. In regard to this a very effi- 
 cient lesson was taught me in my youth, while a sort of mild 
 persecution — that of contempt — was in universal perpetra- 
 tion in our country towns. " Father, why are you not a Cor- 
 poration-man ] You are richer than Mr. Jackson." — ^* My 
 dear, I cannot ; nobody can be of the Corporation who does 
 not take the sacrament in church." — " Well, and why do you 
 refuse 1 Should you do any harm to any one by taking the 
 sacrament 1 " — "To nobody but myself, — except to you, per- 
 haps." — " How to me '? " — '' People would say, ' He 's the 
 son of a man who pretended to believe what he did not believe, 
 merely to get a vote for a member of Parliament, and so, per- 
 haps, get a place.' " 
 
 I am quite sure of the salutary effects of the habit of integ- 
 rity forced on Dissenters formerly. The Test and Corporation 
 Acts forced the Dissenters into a sort of hostility against the 
 Church. The repeal of those laws has already produced a 
 formal sepai;ation of the three bodies amongst the Dissenters. 
 They would be quite annihilated by their admission to the 
 Universities. The worst enemies to the Church are those who 
 have no religion whatever, and pretend to belong to it, merely 
 from political motives. What with the fanatics of faith, — 
 the Calvinistic evangelicals (to whom belongs my friend and 
 your admirer) and the fanatics of High-Church formalism, — 
 the persecutors of Dr. Hampden, for instance, — and the peo- 
 ple who want to save their pockets and plunder the Church, 
 merely from mercenary motives, the wisa and conscientious 
 Churchman will recognize conscientious and liberal Dissenters 
 as enemies far less dangerous. Indeed, they ought not to be 
 enemies at all 
 
 May 16th, — A party at Miss Rogers's in the evening. 
 Among those present were Milman, Lyell, and Sydney Smith. 
 With the last-named I chatted for the first time. His faun- 
 like face is a sort of promise of a good thing when he does 
 
1836] SYDNEY SMITH. 229 
 
 but open his lips. He says nothing that from an indiffer- 
 ent person would be recollected. The new British and Foreign 
 Review was spoken of as being set up by a rich man, — Beau- 
 mont. " Hitherto," said Sydney Smith, " it was thought that 
 Lazarus, not Dives, should set up a Review. The Edinburgh 
 Eevieiv w^as written by Lazzaroni." He added, " It has done 
 good." I said I disliked it for its persecution of Wordsworth. 
 " By the by," said Sydney Smith, '^ I never saw Wordsworth 
 look so w^ell, — so reverend." And yet one fancies that a poet 
 should be always young. Wordsworth was present this evening. 
 I noticed that several persons seemed to look at him askant, as 
 if the poet were some outlandish animal. 
 
 May 26th. — With a party of friends, — W^ordsworth, Lan- 
 dor, my brother, the Jaffreys, &c., &c., — I attended the first 
 performance of Talfourd's " Ion," at Co vent Garden. The 
 success complete. Ellen Tree and Macready w^ere loudly ap- 
 plauded, and the author had every reason to be satisfied. 
 After the performance he gave a supper, largely attended 
 by actors, lawyers, and dramatists. I sat by Miss Tree, and 
 near Miss Mitford. " Talfourd's health " was given by 
 Macready, whose health Talfourd proposed after returning 
 thanks. 
 
 May SI St. — Wordsworth introduced me to Strickland Cook- 
 son, w^hom I saw many years ago, but had forgotten. 
 
 Rem.^ — I now place him in the very first line of friends. 
 He is one of the most able and safe counsellors, and shares 
 with Edwin Field the confidence of the religious body to which 
 they belong. Cookson was nominated by Wordsw^orth as his 
 executor, by my desire and in my place. Among other excel- 
 lences he has, in my estimation, this, — a due veneration for 
 Wordsworth, without any superstitious fondness. In judg- 
 ment among our common friends, I do not know his equal. 
 In matters of law refonn he takes an active part, as well as 
 Edwin Field. 
 
 June 2Jfth. — I rose early, and copied some curious marginal 
 notes by Coleridge in Lightfoot's works. They are pious and 
 reverential in thought, though sometimes almost comic in ex- 
 pression. He regrets that Lightfoot should paiv the sacred 
 mysteries, — an admirable expression, and one that came from 
 Coleridge's heart, and might well continue to be employed. 
 
 Rem.'\ - — It was at the very commencement of the Bible 
 Societies, and just after Dr. Wordsworth had published a 
 
 * Written in 1853. f Written in 1S53. 
 
230 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 pamphlet about them, that I heard a word fall from Coleridge, 
 more profound and significantly true than any I have since 
 heard. " Ay, sir, there can be no doubt that these are good 
 men, very good men, who are so zealous in widely spreading 
 these societies. It is a pity they want sagacity enough to 
 foresee that in sending the Bible thus everywhere among the 
 uninstructed and the reprobate, they will be propagating, in- 
 stead of the old idolatry, a new hihliolatryr 
 
 Will the forthcoming volume of the '^ Table-talk " contain a 
 wiser word than the above % Perhaps not an acuter than 
 those in the following : " That is not goodness," said Coleridge 
 in my presence, to some one who was urging rather a com- 
 monplace and sentimental morality, — " that is not goodness, 
 but should be called goodyness^ 
 
 A proposal was made to me by my friends, the Masqueriers, 
 to join them in a tour in Wales. This I gladly accepted, and 
 I set out on the 19th of July, and returned on the 6th of 
 September. 
 
 August 28th, — (Bristol.) After an hour's stroll, I found 
 myself at the Lewin's Mead Chapel. A most respectable- 
 looking building and congregation. Dr. Lant Carpenter per- 
 formed the devotional part of the service with great effect. 
 His countenance, voice, and manner quite saintli]?:e. Mr. Ac- 
 ton, of Exeter, preached the sermon. 
 
 August 29th. — I called on Joseph Cottle, residing in a neat 
 house with his maiden sister. I was expected, and the Cottles 
 were prepared to show me every attention. I decli7ied an in- 
 vitation to dinner, but spent the evening with them. And I 
 rendered him a service by strengthening him in his resolution 
 to disregard all objections to his printing in his forthcoming 
 " Eecollections of Southey, Coleridge, W^ordsworth, &c.," the 
 letter of Coleridge to Mr. Wade, giving an account (>f his sad 
 habit of opium-eating. This letter was given to Cottle by 
 Coleridge, with the express injunction to publish it after his 
 death as a warning. Equally clear w^as it to me that Cottle 
 had not a right merely, but "^ that it was his duty, to make 
 known that De Quincey, in the generosity of youth, had given 
 Coleridge £ 300. But^^I advised him to give the facts as they 
 were, without the account he had drawn up respecting ob- 
 jections. He afterwards published a work, — more than a 
 mere copy of the first, — and in this he published a letter of 
 Southey's respecting Coleridge, by which the family of Cole- 
 ridge were justly displeased. Cottle mistook his vocation when 
 
1836.] JOSEPH COTTLE. — SIR H. BULWER'S FRANCE. 231 
 
 he thought himself a poet. It was from his poem, " Malvern 
 Hills," that, in 1808, Amyot and I, fatigued with the steep 
 ascent of one of these hills, amused ourselves by quoting the 
 
 lines : — 
 
 " It needs the evidence of close deduction 
 To know that I shall .ever reach the top." 
 
 But, notwithstanding this weakness, Joseph Cottle was a 
 worthy, and indeed excellent, man. For his poem entitled 
 " King Alfred" his friends called him the regicide. 
 
 Rem,^ — On a subsequent visit to Cottle, I was shown a let- 
 ter by Coleridge on the future state, with a strong bearing 
 against the idea of eternal suffering. Cottle also read one 
 from Coleridge, in which Wordsworth's Tragedy is called ** ab- 
 solutely wonderful." The publication of this Tragedy in the 
 last volume of Wordsworth's works did not justify this judg- 
 ment in public opinion. It has not been noticed by any critic, 
 so far as I know. 
 
 Here too — that is, at Bristol — was living a man I became 
 acquainted with through Flaxman, — Edgar. A man of ac- 
 complishments and taste. A merchant once, enjoying wealth.- 
 He was the patron of Flaxman when little known. Adversity 
 befell him, and then, though he was a Conservative, and the 
 Radicals were in power, they behaved, as he himself said, with 
 generosity towards a political adversary, allowing him to retain 
 the office of sword-bearer on terms more liberal than could 
 have been required. He was an F. S. A., and possessed an 
 unusual degree of antiquarian knowledge. 
 
 Septemher 16th. — Read with no great pleasure the Wasser- 
 mensch, a dialogue among L. Tieck's Novellen. The most in- 
 teresting part was an exposure of the folly of the German 
 Radical youth. 
 
 September 21st. — Read H. Bulwer's *' France," which I 
 thought wise and instructive. I copy two sentences respecting 
 the government of Louis Philippe : " Every man is under the 
 influence, not of the circumstances which placed him in a par- 
 ticular situation, but of the circumstances which resulted from 
 it." He then pointedly remarks that, owing his throne to the 
 people, Louis Philippe would be incessantly called on to yield 
 to the people, and that it would be difficult to know when to 
 yield and when to resist. This original blemish in his title 
 would remain ; but Bulwer adds : " There is a scar on the rind 
 of the young tree, which, as it widens every year, becomes at 
 
 * Written in 1853. 
 
232 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 once more visible and more weak ; and, in the monarch of 
 July, the time which displays, destroys, — which expands, ob- 
 literates its defects." 
 
 November 1st. — A special meeting at the London Universi- 
 ty, to receive from Lord Brougham a curious communication. 
 An old lady, upwards of eighty, has announced her intention 
 of giving £ 5,000 to the University. She declares her object 
 to be the support of civil and religious liberty. She herself is 
 a Roman Catholic. Her name is Flaherty. Lord Brougham 
 said, that having ascertained to his satisfaction that she was 
 in the full possession of her faculties, and that she had no 
 near relations having a moral claim on her, he felt no scruple 
 in accepting the gift. He had learned also that she spent very 
 little on herself and devoted a handsome income mainly to 
 acts of beneficence. 
 
 RemJ^ — I heard afterwards that when she went to the Bank 
 to transfer the stock, she went in a hackney-coach, and was to 
 return so or walk, I forget which. On being remonstrated with 
 for not being more attentive to her own comfort, she said she 
 spent no money on herself, and hence it was that she was able 
 now and then to help others, f 
 
 H. C. R. TO H. N. Coleridge, t 
 
 November 17, 1836. 
 
 My DEAR Sir, — I return you the second volume of the 
 " Table-talk," which I have looked over again with renewed 
 pleasure and sorrow. Born among the Dissenters, and reckon- 
 ing among them many highly esteemed friends, I regret that 
 you should have given permanence to so many splenetic effu- 
 sions against them. As to the single passage which you send 
 underlined, as if it did not justify my construction, you will 
 pardon my saying, which I do most conscientiously, that I 
 found it worse than I had imagined. Mr. Coleridge says : 
 " The only true argument, apart from Christianity, for a dis- 
 criminating toleration, is that it is of no use to attempt to stop 
 heresy or schism by persecution, unless, perhaps, by massacre ! " 
 Now, " apart from Christianity " by no means implies that Mr. 
 Coleridge meant that Christianity is opposed to this discrimi- 
 
 * Written in 1853. 
 
 t The use made of this benefaction was to establish the well-known " Fla- 
 herty Scholarships." 
 
 X Mr. Robinson particularly marked this letter as " one of the few he wished 
 to preserve." 
 
1836.] ON SUPPKESSLNG RELIGIOUS ERROR. 233 
 
 nation, but rather, " independently of the arguments for it from 
 Christianity." You must be aware that he who recommends 
 " a discriminating toleration " rather recommends the discrimi- 
 nation than the toleration ; and, of necessity, must approve of 
 that being persecuted w^hich is not tolerated. Now, what is 
 that % In the preceding page, he insinuates that it is the im- 
 perative duty of the magistrate to punish with death the teach- 
 ers of damnable doctrines. If so, the Romanists did no more 
 than their duty in putting the Protestants to death ; for they 
 conscientiously think that damnation follows schism. As to 
 the only true argument against persecution, that it is of no 
 use, — "Of no use ! " a Spaniard would truly say ; " for three 
 hundred years the kings of Spain have found it effectual in 
 saving the souls of millions under their care." 
 
 There are, in this same article, equally palpable errors. Mr. 
 Coleridge says, " A right to toleration is a contradiction in 
 terms." If so, a right to liberty is a contradiction ; for the 
 famous formulary, " Civil and Religious Liberty," merely 
 means that in certain personal matters of civil concern and 
 conscience, the State must let the individual alone. But the 
 most marvellous sentence is that in which Mr. Coleridge 
 affirms that the Pope had a right to command the Romanists 
 of England to separate from the National Church, and to rebel 
 against Queen Elizabeth. I thought that the liberal and intel- 
 ligent in all Christian churches w^ere agreed in disclaiming this 
 latter right, and conceding the former. 
 
 " The Romanist, who acknowledges the Pope as the Head of 
 his Church, cannot possibly consider the Church of England as 
 any Church at all." Mr. Coleridge, when he uttered this, for- 
 got his own admirable and subtle distinction, that we ought not 
 to say the Church of, but the Church in, England. Mr. Cole- 
 ridge refers to the necessary criterion, but does not go on to 
 state what it is. Yet, surely, he would not have denied, what 
 Warburton so ably maintains, that Church Establishments are 
 framed for their utility to the State, not for their truth. 
 
 I will relate an anecdote, w^hich will show that a Roman 
 Catholic priest will acknowledge what, it seems, Mr. Coleridge, 
 on the 3d of January, 1834, had forgotten. I met with one in 
 the Vale of Lungern, who, I afterwards found, was popular for 
 his benevolence and liberality, being an anti-ultramontanist. I 
 said to him : " All I contend for is, that a man has a right to 
 be damned if he pleases, and that, therefore, no magistrate has 
 a right to interpose to prevent it." - He started ; but, after a 
 
234 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 pause, smiled and said, ^' If you mean this in a legal sense (in 
 eiiiem juristischen Shine), I concede it." I replied : *^ I cannot 
 mean it otherwise. It is the duty of the father, the friend, the 
 philanthropist, and, above all, the Christian, to labor for the 
 salvation of souls : but the sovereign, the magistrate, has 
 nothing to do with it ; for, if he can interfere, there will be 
 nothing but persecution and murder everywhere. It is an 
 accident what each sovereign believes, and every one will 
 claim the same power." — *^ It is very true," he exclaimed. I 
 rejoined, " When will you get his Holiness to subscribe to the 
 doctrine V — " Not yet," he said, " but we shall in time. We 
 are on the way of Reform more than the Protestants imagine." 
 
 December 8th. — I finished and sent off a letter to Landor re- 
 specting a most unwarrantable publication sent to me by him, 
 and entitled, " A Satire on Satirists and Admonition to Detrac- 
 tors." The greater part is an attack on Blackwood, and other 
 satirists ; but the detractor admonished is Wordsworth, who is 
 represented as an envious and selfish poet. Goethe and Southey 
 are represented as the objects of his ill-feeling, and he is intro- 
 duced as present at the representation of " Ion," when, while 
 every one else was afi'ected, — - 
 
 *• Amid the mighty storm that swelled around, 
 Wordsworth was calm, and bravely stood his ground." 
 
 I thought it right to remonstrate with Landor. I was present 
 on the occasion.'^ There was no sign of ill-will then, nor want 
 of cordiality among the literary candidates for praise. 
 
 H. C. R. TO W. S. Landor. 
 
 2 Plowden Buildings, Temple, December 7, 1836. 
 My dear Sir, — On my return from my summer's tour, I 
 proceeded to Gore House to inquire about you. I there heard 
 of your rapid transit through town, and soon after received, or 
 suspected I received, an amusing memorial of your enviable 
 fliculty of contemplating the follies of life with a free and 
 cheerful aspect. For this I have to thank you ; as also (more 
 certainly) for your Satire, which I found at the Athenaeum 
 last night. Beautiful as many parts of this little poem are, I 
 must say that it has given me pain. I hope I shall not be 
 found to have relied too much on your unvaried kindness to 
 
 * See ante, p. 229. 
 
1836.] ONE-SIDEDNESS OF GENIUS. 235 
 
 me in stating why. This I may do with the less impropriety, 
 as I feel myself personally connected with some portion of the 
 oifending matter. Among my obligations to Wordsworth is 
 this, that I owe to him the honor of your acquaintance. Since 
 then I have had the pleasure of enjoying the company of both 
 of you together, when I remarked nothing but cordiality be- 
 tween you ; and now I receive from you a very bitter attack, 
 not upon his writings, but upon his personal character, — a 
 portion of the materials being drawn, unless I deceive myself, 
 from opinions uttered by him in the freedom of unpremedi- 
 tated conversation in my presence. Wordsworth is admonished 
 as a detracter, because he does not appreciate other poets as 
 they deserve. I could admit the fact without acknowledging 
 the justice of its being imputed to him as a crime. It seems 
 to me that the general effect of a laborious cultivation of tal- 
 ent in any one definite form is to weaken the sense of the 
 worth of other forms. This is an ordinary drawback, even on 
 genius. Voltaire and Rousseau hated each other ; Fielding 
 despised Richardson ; Petrarch, Dante ; Michael Angelo 
 sneered at Raphael. There is nothing in which Goethe is more 
 the object of my admiration than in being utterly free from 
 this weakness. He felt and acknowledged every kind of excel- 
 lence. .... 
 
 I have DO doubt that Lord Byron intended to cause a breach 
 between Southey and Wordsworth by what Coleridge happily 
 terms " an implement, not an invention, of malice " ; hitherto, 
 I believe, without any effect. 
 
 One word as to the imputed plagiarism."^ Had Wordsworth 
 published the passage recently, since he became acquainted 
 with you, without making a due acknowledgment of your hav- 
 ing supplied the fine fancy of which he made a serious appli- 
 cation, I should have thought this unjust on his part, and your 
 anger very reasonable. But he wrote this some twelve or 
 fifteen years ago ; and you, with a full knowledge, I presume, 
 of the wrong, consented to overlook it, and to associate with 
 him on terms of apparent cordiality. But with your feeling, 
 I would either not have met him, or I would have told him 
 what I thought. 
 
 Becemher 8th. — I was interi'upted last night. On perusing 
 my letter, I think I have done injustice to Wordsworth. I 
 
 * That Wordsworth had borrowed from Landor's " Gebir" the image of the 
 shell in the very beautiful passage in the fonrMi book of " The Excursion," 
 p. 147: " I have seen a curious child," «S:c. Wordsworth denied all obliga- 
 tion to " Gebir" for this image. See/^os^, p. 240. 
 
236 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 12. 
 
 seem to admit, much more than I intended, or ought, the 
 charge so powerfully brought against both Wordsworth and 
 Southey by Lord Byron in his admirable and infamous dedica- 
 tion of " Don Juan " to Southey, and which charge you have 
 echoed. I do not think there is any unworthy vanity, or envy, 
 in Wordsworth towards his contemporaries. His moral and 
 religious feelings, added to a spice of John Bullism, have 
 utterly blinded him, for instance, to the marvellous talent of 
 Voltaire. [Your hint on French Hterature is very just.] But 
 I have heard him praise Elliott quite as warmly as you do. It 
 is at his urgent recommendation that Southey is now coming 
 out with a complete edition of his poems. Let me remark, 
 too, as to censure, that I do not believe I ever heard him speak 
 against any one (except Goethe), whom I have not heard you 
 attack in much more vehement language. Indeed I thought I 
 had remarked a general concurrence in your critical opinions. 
 Begging your pardon for the freedom of this letter, for which I 
 implore a kind construction, and which I thought it my duty 
 to wTite, 
 
 I am, with sincere regard, 
 
 H. C. E. 
 
 December 26th. — (Brighton.) This was a remarkable day. 
 So much snow fell, that not a coach either set out for or ar- 
 rived from London, — an incident almost unheard of in this 
 place. Parties were put off and engagements broken without 
 complaint. The Masqueriers, with w^hom I am staying, ex- 
 pected friends to dinner, but they could not come. Neverthe- 
 less, we had here Mr. Edmonds, the worthy Scotch school- 
 master, Mr. and Mrs. Dill, and a Miss Robinson ; and, with 
 the assistance of whist, the afternoon went off comfortably 
 enough. Of course, during a part of the day, I w^as occupied 
 in reading. 
 
 December 28th. — The papers to-day are fiill of the snow- 
 storm. The ordinary mails were stopped in every part of the 
 country. 
 
 December 30th. — Read in the Quarterly an article on 
 Campbell, in which the nail is hit on the head in the saying, 
 that he has acq\iired " an immortality of quotation," — a feli- 
 citous expression. His works are not distinguished by imagi- 
 nation, sensibility, or profound thought ; but posterity will 
 know him through happy expressions, such as " Coming events 
 cast their shadows before." 
 
1837.] AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S. — A MISER. 237 
 
 December 31st. — I sat up late, as usual ; and when the year 
 expired I was reading Dibdin's " Life," — a significant occupa- 
 tion, for in idle amusement and faint pleasure was the greater 
 part of the now closing year spent. Such are my frivolous 
 habits, that I can hardly expect to live for any profitable pur- 
 pose either as respects myself or others. 
 
 Rem.* — I wrote this sincerely in my sixty-first year. My 
 life has been more actively and usefully spent since I have been 
 an elderly man. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 1837. 
 
 THESE reminiscences and the incidents I dwell on partic- 
 ularly tend to show that what concerns one's self other- 
 wise than as a motive for action would form a difficult test of 
 what is properly one's oivn interest. Excepting my journey 
 with Wordsworth, almost all the objects of my active exer- 
 tions this year were quite indifferent to me personally. Yet 
 such are the incidents which chiefly dwell on my memory, and 
 find a written record in my journal, and in the letters I have 
 preserved. 
 
 Jamtary 5th. — Being too late for the omnibus at Kew, I 
 walked on, and reached Lady Blessington's after ten. With 
 her were D'Orsay, Dr. Lardner, Trelawney, Edward Bulwer. 
 A stranger, whose conversation interested and pleased me, I 
 found to be young Disraeli.t He talked with spirit of German 
 literature. He spoke of Landor's " Satire " as having no sa- 
 tire in it. The chat was an amusing one. 
 
 February 9th. — (At Bury.) My brother related to me a 
 curious incident, such as one reads of occasionally. There is 
 
 a man living in the Wrangling Street, named , for whom 
 
 my nephew made a will. The man was supposed to be at the 
 point of death, and he produced from imder his bed, in gold 
 and silver, upwards of £ 300. My brother sent for a banker's 
 
 clerk, and the money was secured. When the old wife of 
 
 found out what had taken place, she scolded him with such 
 fury that she went into a fit and died. My brother was sent 
 
 * Written in 1854. 
 
 T Afterwards the Right Honorable Benjamin DisraelL 
 
238 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 for again ; and the man, in great agitation, produced an addi- 
 tional £ 208. But this he insisted on giving away absolutely 
 to some poor people who were near him, and had served him. 
 After this was done, his mind seemed more easy. He has 
 even rallied in health, and has made a judicious distribution 
 of his property. The money w^as tied up in old stockings and 
 filthy rags. When he was informed of his wife's death, he 
 eagerly demanded her pockets, and took from them a few shil- 
 ings with great avidity. The accumulation was the result of 
 a life of continued abstinence. 
 
 February 2Sd, — An agreeable day. I breakfasted with 
 Samuel Rogers. We had a long and interesting chat about 
 Landor, W^ordsworth, Southey, &c. Rogers is a good teller of 
 anecdotes. He spoke with great affection of Mrs. Barbauld. 
 Of Southey's genius and moral virtues he spoke with respect ; 
 but Southey is anti-popular, — not a friend to the improve- 
 ment of the people. We talked of slander, and the truth 
 blended with it. A friend repeated to Rogers a saying by 
 Wilkes : *' Give me a grain of truth, and I will mix it up with 
 a great mass of falsehood, so that no chemist shall ever be able 
 to separate them." Talking of composition, he showed me a 
 note to his '' Italy," w^hich, he says, took him a fortnight to 
 write. It consists of a very few lines. W^ordsworth has am- 
 plified the idea of this note in his poem on the picture of Miss 
 Quillinan, by Stone. Rogers says, and I think truly, that the 
 prose is better than the poem. The thought intended to be 
 expressed is, that the picture is the substance, and the behold- 
 ers are the shadows.* 
 
 February 2ith. — Dined with Paynter to meet Valentine 
 Le Grice, famous in his youth for his wit and talent. I found 
 him to-day very pleasant and lively as a companion. He has 
 the reputation of being a religious man, and a popular 
 preacher. 
 
 Fem.f — A character. He is now a Cornish clergyman, ad- 
 vantageously known as being prohibited preaching wnthin the 
 diocese of Exeter. He was the son of a Bury clergyman, 
 whom I heard of in my boyhood as a persecuted man. The 
 father was certainly not w^ell off, and for that reason obtained 
 for his son Valentine a presentation to the Bluecoat School, 
 
 * The note referred to is among the additional notes at the end of " Italy," 
 and is on the words, '• Then on that masterpiece" (Raphael's *' Transfigiira- 
 tion " ). " Poetical Works," 18mo edition, p. 366. 
 
 t Written in 1855. 
 
1837.] H. C. R. ON PERSONAL ECONOMY. 239 
 
 London. And here he was the companion of Charles Lamb 
 and Coleridge. He was a wit and a scholar. Taking orders, 
 he became tutor to a young man who suffered under a strange 
 malady, — an ossification of the body. The mother of this 
 young man married the tutor. Le Grice was notorious for his 
 free opinions. Hearing my name and place of birth, he sought 
 me out, saying my family had been his father's friends, as were 
 all the Dissenters. His father was suspected of heres3^ I 
 w^ill here note down two anecdotes of Valentine Le Grice which 
 I heard from Charles Lamb, but which seem to me to have in 
 them more impudence than wit. They used to go to the de- 
 bating societies together. On one occasion the question was, 
 " Who was the greatest orator, — Pitt, Fox, or Burke 1 " Le 
 Grice said, '^ I heard a lady say, in answer to the question, 
 * Which do you like best, — beef, veal, or mutton V — * Pork.' 
 So I, in reply to your question, say, ' Sheridan.' " Another 
 time he began thus : " The last time I had the honor of ad- 
 dressing the chair in this hall, I was kicked out of the room." 
 
 [The following extract has its proper place here, for, though 
 dated 1836, it had in view the Italian tour with Wordsworth 
 in the present year.] 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 .... I am glad you have made a remark about expense, 
 as this enables me to explain myself. Be under no apprehen- 
 sion that you may think it right to incur more expense than I 
 should like. The fact is that I have contracted habits of par- 
 simony from having been at one time poor, and because I have 
 no pleasure in mere personal, solitary indulgence ; but I am 
 pleased when I am called on to spend at the suggestion of oth- 
 ers. Unselfish economy has, I hope, been my practice as well 
 as my maxim. I recollect being strongly impressed, at a sus- 
 ceptible age, by a passage in Madame Eoland's Memoirs. Giv- 
 ing an account of her life in prison, she says : ^' I spent very- 
 little, but I paid all the servants liberally, so that I made 
 friends while I lived sparingly." My personal expenses are per- 
 haps smaller than those of most men, but I have no objection 
 to double them, when the comfort of my companion requires it. 
 
 I once travelled with Seume, the well-known German author, 
 and with Schnorr, the painter. I recollect the former laid 
 down the rule, " The strongest of the party must accommo- 
 
240 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 date himself to the weakest, and the richest to the poorest." 
 If I am stronger than you in body, acting on Seume's princi' 
 pie, I shall not subject you to any inconvenience. 
 
 Italian Tour with Wordsworth. 
 
 Rem* — I shall content myself with very brief notes of the 
 country we passed through, which was already familiar to me. 
 I felt unable to record the interesting remarks which Words- 
 worth w^as continually making. It was his society that distin- 
 guished this journey from others ; and to accommodate him I 
 altered my usual mode of travelling. He could not bear night 
 travelling ; and in his sixty-seventh year needed rest. I there- 
 fore at once yielded to his suggestion to buy a carriage, and I 
 obtained one from Marmaduke Robinson for £70. It w^as a 
 barouche which had been considerably used; but it was 
 effectually repaired. Moxon accompanied us as far as Paris. 
 
 The passage from London to Calais {March 19th) was about 
 twelve hours. On our landing we had to pay 400 francs duty 
 on the carriage, but we were to receive three fourths of that 
 sum when we left the country. Posting to Paris, we arrived 
 on the third day : sleeping the first night at Samer, and the 
 second at Grandvilliers. Very little on the way to excite in- 
 terest ; yet I felt no ennui. With Wordsworth I did not fail 
 to have occasional bursts of conversation. We spoke of poetry 
 and of Landor. It may be not unworthy of mention that 
 Wordsworth first heard of Landor's " Satire " from Quillinan, 
 who w^as in Portugal. He said he regretted Quillinan's indis- 
 cretion, and felt much obliged to his London friends for never 
 having mentioned the circumstance to him.f He had not read, 
 and meant never to read, the " Satire." He had heard that a 
 depreciation of Southey's genius was imputed to him ; but as 
 he had a warm affection for Southey, and an admiration for 
 his genius, he never could have said he would not give five 
 shillings for all Southey had ever written. Notwithstanding 
 his sense of Landor's extreme injustice, he readily acknowledges 
 his ability. As to the image of the sea-shell, he admitted no 
 obligation for it to Landor's '' Gebir." From his childhood 
 the shell was familiar to him ; and the children of his native 
 
 * Written in 1855. 
 
 t Quillinan noticed this "Satire" in " Blackwood,'* in 1843, in an article 
 entitled, '' Imaginary Conversation Avith the Editor of Blackwood." Kenyon 
 told me that Landor said: '' I understand a Mr. Quillinan has been attacking 
 me. His writings are, I hear, Quill-inanities." — H. C. R. 
 
1837.] PETRARCH. HUMAN INTERESTS UPPERMOST. 241 
 
 place always spoke of the humming sound as indicating the 
 sea, and of its greater or less loudness as having a reference to 
 the state of the sea at the time. The '' Satire " seemed to 
 give Wordsworth little annoyance. In our talk about poets, 
 Wordsworth said Langhorne * was one of those who had not 
 had justice done them. His ** Country Justice " has true po- 
 etic feeling. 
 
 In our way to Italy we passed through Lyons, Avignon, 
 Nismes, St. Remi, Marseilles, Toulon, &c. Wordsworth was 
 prepared to find the charm of interest in Yaucluse, and he was 
 not disappointed. 
 
 From Avignon we drove into the valley, — a dreary and 
 uncomfortable scene. Arid rocks, with a very little sprinkling 
 of shrubs and dwarf trees, affording no shade, constitute nearly 
 the whole of a scene which, from Petrarch's delicious verses, 
 every one would imagine to be a spot of perpetual verdure. Our 
 guide pointed out to us the reputed neighborhood of the poet's 
 house. It is said to have been once a forest ; now it is a mere 
 mass of buildings. There is still, however, a very clear stream, 
 and as it runs over cresses, it is of a green more delightful 
 than I ever before saw. This ** closed valley" {vallis clausa) 
 derives its character from a spring of water which rises imme- 
 diately under a perpendicular rock, 600 feet high. 
 
 A plain column is erected to the memory of Petrarch. The 
 only sensible homage to his memory would be the destruction 
 of the uncongenial workshops. Wordsworth made a length- 
 ened ramble among the rocks behind the fountain ; t and in 
 consequence we were not at our hotel till after the table-d'hote 
 sapper. 
 
 At Nismes {April 6th) I took Wordsworth to see the exterior 
 of both the Maison Carree and the Arena. He acknowledged 
 their beauty, but expected no great pleasure from such things. 
 He says : " I am unable, from ignorance, to enjoy these sights. 
 I receive an impression, but that is all. I have no science, 
 and can refer nothing to principle." He was, on the other 
 hand, delighted by two beautiful little girls playing with flow- 
 ers near the Arena ; and I overheard him say to himself, '* 
 you darlings ! I wish I could put you in my pocket, and car- 
 ry yoii to Rydal Mount." 
 
 * Langhorne, Rev. John, D. D. Born 1735, died 1779. 
 
 t *' Between two and three hours did 1 run about, climbing the steep and 
 rugged crags from whose base the water of Vaucluse breaks forth." Words- 
 worth's note at the beginning of the " Memorials of a Tour in Italy." " Poeti- 
 cal Works," Vol. III. p. 180. 
 
 VOL. II. II P 
 
242 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 At Savona there is a fort, and before it a greensward just 
 at this season, which greatly dehghted Wordsworth, — more 
 than objects more extraordinary and more generally attractive. 
 After breakfasting and rambling through the town, which is 
 nicely paved with flagstones, and is agreeable to walk in, hav- 
 ing a sort of college air about it, we ascended to a couple of 
 monasteries, the one of Capuchins, with an extensive view of 
 the sea, the other formerly Franciscan, but now desecrated. 
 Wordsworth took a great fancy to the place, and thought it a 
 fit residence for such a poet as Chiabrera, who lived here. 
 
 " How lovely, robed in forenoon light and shade, 
 Each ministering t(j each, didst thou appear, 
 Savona, Queen of territory fair 
 
 As aught that marvellous coast through all its length 
 Yields to the stranger's eye ! " * 
 
 A'pril 26th. — We entered Rome in good spirits. We were 
 driven to the Europa, where, till we procured lodgings, we con- 
 tented ourselves with two rooms on a third story. Before 
 sunset we took a walk to my favorite haunt, the Pincian Hill, 
 where I was accosted by my name. It was Theed, who in- 
 formed us of the pine-tree referred to in Wordsworth's poem 
 as the gift of Sir George Beaumont.f Here, too, we met with 
 Mrs. Collins, the w^ife of the R. A. As soon as I had fixed 
 Wordsworth at a cafe, I called on Miss Mackenzie, from whom 
 I had a most cordial reception. She is very desirous to 
 give Wordsworth the use of her carriage. 
 
 April 27 til. — This has been a very interesting day. To 
 Wordsworth it must have been unparalleled in the number 
 and importance of new impressions. He was sufliciently im- 
 pressed with the Coliseum. The Pantheon seemed to him 
 hardly worth notice, compared with St. Peter's. In the after- 
 noon Miss Mackenzie took us in her carnage to St. Peter's, by 
 which W^ordsworth was more impressed than I expected he 
 would be. To me it is, as it always was, an unequalled, — in- 
 deed an incomparable sight. We took only a cursory view of 
 it, and then drove to the Villa Lante, whence there is a fine 
 view of Rome, nearly, if not precisely, that of my engraving. 
 The beauty of the evening rendered the scene very attractive. 
 We looked also into the Church of St. Onofrio, where Tasso lies 
 buried ; also Guidi, the poet. Wordsworth is no hunter after 
 sentimental relics. He professes to be regardless of places that 
 have only an outward connection with a great man, but no influ- 
 
 * "Memorials ": " Musings near Acquapendente," Vol. III. p. 190. 
 t Vide, " Memorials," No. II. 
 
1837.] SISMONDI. — BUNSEN. — KEATS. 243 
 
 ence on his works. Hence he cares nothing for the burying-place 
 of Tasso, but has a deep interest in Vanchise. The distinction 
 is founded on just views, and real, not affected sympathy. We 
 drank tea with Miss Mackenzie. She had sent messages to Col- 
 hns and Kastner, but neither came. On the other hand, by 
 mere accident seeing a card with Mr. Ticknor's name, I spoke 
 of his being a friend of Wordsworth ; on which she instantly 
 sent to him, and, as he lived next door, he was soon wdth us, 
 and greatly pleased to see Wordsworth, before setting off to' 
 morrow for Florence. 
 
 April 28th. — The Sismondis were passing through Rome, 
 and took a hasty dinner with Miss Mackenzie : Wordsworth 
 and I joined them. Sismondi has the look of an intelligent 
 man, but our conversation was too slight to afford room for ob- 
 servation. 
 
 May Jfth. — I introduced Wordsworth to Bunsen. Bunsen 
 talked his best, and, with great facility and felicity of expres- 
 sion, pointed out to us from his own window monuments from 
 the history of Rome. I never heard a more instructive and de- 
 lightful lecture in ten times the number of words. 
 
 May 6th. — We rose too late for a long walk, but, unwilling 
 to lose the morning freshness, took a short lounge before break- 
 fast. Looked at some pleasing pictures, recommended by Col- 
 lins, in an obscure church adjoining the fountain of Trevi. After 
 breakfast we made a call on Severn, who had a subject besides 
 art to talk on with Wordsworth, — poor Keats. He informs us 
 that the foolish inscription on his tomb is to be superseded by 
 one more worthy of him. He denies that Keats's death was 
 hastened by the article in the Quarterly. It appears that 
 Keats was by no means poor, but considerably fleeced. 
 
 May 7th. — This forenoon was devoted to an excursion, 
 which, though not perfectly answering my expectation, was yet 
 a variety in our amusement. Mr. Jones had engaged to dine 
 with a rich CampagTia grazier in the neighborhood of Rome, 
 and invited Wordsworth and me to be of the party. In fact 
 we three were the party, for others who were to have joined us 
 were prevented from doing so. We hired a vettura, and spent 
 from half past eight to six on the excursion, alighting at the 
 tomb of Csecilia Metella. The most amusing circumstance 
 was our locale. The hut where these wandering shepherds 
 live is a sort of tent of reeds, — a rotunda (really an elegant 
 structure in its form), poles meeting in the centre. I suppose 
 about forty paces in circumference. Around are about twelve 
 
244 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 recesses, in each of which two men sleep. Against the slanting 
 room were hanging hams in abundance, saddles, and all sort^ 
 of articles of husbandry. In the centre was a fire, with no 
 chimney, but the smoke escaped through the reeds. A pot, 
 spacious but not inviting, hung over the fire, and near it sat 
 an old man with a fine face, in a very large arm-chair. He did 
 the honors of his tent with a kind of patriarchal dignity. And 
 the numerous servants, or rather companions, seemed to mix 
 respect with a sort of cordial equality in their tone towards 
 him. After a few words of half-intelligible chat, we took a 
 stroll, witnessed a sheep-shearing, and then walked to one of 
 the aqueducts, enjoying a fine view of these interesting re- 
 mains. The mountains of Albano, and the plain of the Cam- 
 pagna, were in agreeable verdure. On our return there was a 
 party of shepherds at dinner. They took no notice of us, but, 
 when they had done, a clean cloth and napkins were placed for 
 us. No food was ofi'ered but two kinds of sausage. Ricotta^ 
 which we asked for, was excellent. But Mr. Jones had provid- 
 ed bread, cheese, and excellent wine. He expected a regular 
 dinner, but I was satisfied with this luncheon. The day was 
 splendidly fine, and our return drive was delightful. 
 
 May 8th. — Went to the Vatican. Gibson, Severn, and Mr. 
 Jones accompanied us. We saw the marble antiques of the 
 Vatican to great advantage, for Gibson pointed out to Words- 
 worth all the prime objects, — the Minerva, Apollo, young 
 Augustus, Laocoon, Torso, and a number of others, the names 
 of which I cannot now recollect. We did not attempt to see a 
 picture, or, indeed, to enter all the rooms. 
 
 May lOtlu — We rose early, and had a delightful walk before 
 breakfast. We ascended the Coliseum. The building is seen 
 to much greater advantage from above. Wordsworth seemed 
 fully impressed by its grandeur, though he seemed still more 
 to enjoy the fine view of the country beyond. He wishes to 
 make the ascent by moonlight. Certainly no other amphi- 
 theatre (and I have seen all that still exist) leaves so deep an 
 impression. Meeting Dr. Carlyle, Wordsworth and I took a 
 drive with him to the Corsini Palace, which we found very rich in 
 paintings. There are a few which are the most delicious with 
 which I am acquainted. Above all, " A Mother and Child," a 
 peasant girl, by Murillo. The custode had the rare good sense 
 not to call this picture a Virgin and Child. The next is a 
 " Holy Family," by Fra Bartolomeo. The " St. Joseph " has 
 wonderful beauty. There are a greater number of excellent 
 
 1 
 
U37.] H. C. R.'S SIXTY-SECOND BIRTHDAY. 245 
 
 pictures here than, perhaps, in any other palace. I dined with 
 Dr. Carlyle at Bertini's. I found the dining at Ave Maria 
 (quarter past seven) in this season not unpleasant ; and it is 
 recommended by the Doctor as a healthy practice, because it 
 is precisely just before and just after the setting of the sun 
 that in summer the dews fall, when it is peculiarly unwhole- 
 some to be in the open air. 
 
 May 12th. — An agreeable chat with Gibson. He pleased 
 me by the account he gave of his professional life. He said : 
 *' I could gain more money in England by making busts and 
 funeral monuments ; but I would rather spend my life in read- 
 ing the poets, and composing works of imagination. And I 
 have been so fortunate as to sell all I have done. I do not 
 Bubmit to dictation, or make any alteration, except where my 
 judgment is convinced." He said, in explanation, that he was 
 not unwilling to execute an order for a specified subject, when 
 he approved of it. He has been in Rome twenty years, and 
 finds himself happy here, where he can do works which woidd 
 not be required in England. 
 
 May 13th. — My birthday was most agreeably spent. I 
 have now entered my sixty-third year. I shall hardly ever 
 spend a birthday again in the enjoyment of such pleasure, i. e. 
 in kind, though I may in degree. The day was most pleasant. 
 A few clouds, during midday, tempered the heat. Both morn- 
 ing and evening were cool, not cold. Nor could any circum- 
 stance be changed for the better. Dr. Carlyle joining us, we 
 set out at six a. m. precisely, and drove through the Campagna 
 after sunrise. Our first important stopping-place was Adrian's 
 Villa, which delighted Wordsworth by its scenery. After an 
 hour and a half there, we went on to the Sibilla. After order- 
 ing dinner, we took the guide of the house, and inspected the 
 old rocks among which the cascade fell, and the new fall, which 
 has been made by a tunnel. The change was necessary, but 
 has not improved the scene. The new fall is made formal by 
 the masonry above. It runs in one mass, as in a frame, near- 
 ly straight ; and but for the mass of water, which is consider- 
 able, would produce no effect. The old fall had the disadvan- 
 tage of being hidden by projecting rocks, so that we could 
 only see it by means of paths cut out, and then but imperfect- 
 ly. This of itself would have been a great disappointment to. 
 Wordsworth ; but he was amply compensated by the enjoy- 
 ment the Cascatelle afforded him from the opposite side of the 
 valley, from which you see two masses of what are called the 
 
246 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 Little Falls (or, as Wordsworth called them, " Nature's Water- 
 works "), and, at the same time, the heavy mass formed by the 
 body of the river. After dining, at five, we went to the Villa 
 d'Este, but hardly allowed ourselves time to admire the mag- 
 nificent cypresses. Enjoyed the Campagna on our return ; I 
 was rather sleepy, but the Doctor warned us against sleeping 
 there, even thus early in the season. 
 
 May 15th. — Had a most agreeable chat with Dr. Carlyle, 
 who read me some excellent memoranda of a conversation with 
 Schelling. Wordsworth and I took tea with the Bunsens, who 
 were very friendly indeed. Wordsworth was in good spirits, 
 and talked well about poetry. I can see that he made an im- 
 pression on Bunsen, for whom I copied the ^* Antiquarian Son- 
 net." * On politics and Church matters there is not the same 
 harmony between them. 
 
 May 16th. — We dined with Bunsen. Mayer there. The 
 Minister's eldest son is to become an Englishman, and take 
 orders, and accept a living in England. Bunsen supposes that 
 alone will serve to naturalize him ; but even if an alien can 
 accept a living, which I doubt, it certainly cannot give him the 
 rights of a native. Bunsen took us to the Tabularium, and 
 explained to us the Forum, as seen from this the ancient Treas- 
 ury and Eecord Office of the Capitol. A very interesting ex- 
 hibition to us. When this was over he dismissed us as sov- 
 ereigns do. Instead of asking us to return, he told Mrs. Bun- 
 sen he was going to show us our way home. 
 
 May 17th. — This morning spent in preparations for our 
 journey. With Severn looked into Thorwaldsen's studio. He 
 has a very fine statue of Gutenberg, — fine for its significance. 
 Tha;t of Byron has no value in my eyes. It is pretty rather 
 than elegant. I am told it has been denied admittance into 
 Westminster Abbey. It is too late to be particular on such 
 an occasion. Surely a memorial to so anti-religious a poet as 
 Byron may be admitted where the inscription is allowed to 
 stand, — 
 
 Life is a jest, and all things show it, 
 I thought so once, and now I know it. 
 
 Bunsen told Wordsworth that Lord Byron had an impression 
 he was the offspring of a demon. In a morbid moment such 
 a thought may have seized him. 
 
 May 22d. —k busy day. Preparing for departiire. Dined 
 and took tea with Miss Mackenzie. Nothing can exceed her 
 
 • Probably "■ How profitless the relics that we cull.'* Vol. IV. p. 119. 
 
1837.] DR. CARLYLE. — TERNI. — THE ARNO. 247 
 
 kindness to Wordsworth and me. She seems to feel for Words- 
 worth the affection of a daughter. And he is much pleased 
 with her. But for her house, his evenings would have been 
 dull. He needs the cheering society of women. He has in- 
 vited her to Rydal, and I have no doubt she will accept the 
 invitation. We paid a farewell visit to the Vatican and the 
 Capitol, and made a short call on the Bunpens. The Minister 
 cordial and in high spirits. No diplomatic reserve in his man- 
 ners. I went late to Dr. Carljle. Dr. Thompson was with 
 him. I had an interesting chat with them. Dr. Carlyle is a 
 man whom I much like, and 1 have written to him what I 
 strongly feel, that it would give me pain to think our acquaint- 
 ance should now cease. We leave Rome to-morrow. 
 
 May 2Jftlu — (Terni.) This has been a day of great enjoy- 
 ment, in spite of bad weather. We had to walk between two 
 and three miles to Papigno, because no ass-keeper is allowed 
 to let out an ass on the Terni side of Papigno. I had seen 
 the famous cascade before, but not to so great advantage. Then, 
 however, I thought it the very finest waterfall I had ever seen, 
 and Wordsworth also declares it to be the most sublime he has 
 seen. From the mass of water, and the great extent of the 
 fall, the rebound of the water produces a cloudlike effect, so 
 that the well-known proverb, applied to a wood, may be lite- 
 rally parodied : ^'You cannot see the cascade for the water." 
 The upper fall may be seen to advantage from various places. 
 The two lower falls are of less importance. But there is one 
 point from which a succession of falls may be seen, extending 
 to more than a thousand feet. The last view from a cabin, 
 which does not include the lowest fall, is the most beautiful. 
 
 May 25th. — (Assisi.) We looked into the famous church 
 built over the house in which St. Francis d'Assisi lived. I saw 
 it in 1831 with pleasure. The sacred house had then been 
 recently painted by Overbeck, in fresco. It was a beautiful 
 and very interesting object. Few of the sentimentalities of 
 the Catholics have pleased me so much. But a few months 
 afterwards an earthquake destroyed the interior of the church. 
 It is now under repair. The old house seems uninjured, ex- 
 cept that the greater part of Overbeck's painting is destroyed. 
 
 May 27th. — Left Arezzo about eight. Turning soon out 
 of the high road to Florence, we were driven on good cross- 
 country roads into the very heart of the Apennines, and es- 
 pecially into the Yal d'Arno, — superior^e^ as I suppose ; at least 
 we soon came in sight of the Arno, and we had it long after- 
 
248 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 wards, to the great joy of Wordsworth. It is not unqualifiedly 
 true that the rose would smell as sweet by any other name, — 
 at least not the doctrine which that famous expression is used 
 to assert. We do feel the pleasure enhanced when, in a beau- 
 tiful spot, we find that that spot has been the theme of praise 
 by. men of taste in many generations. This Yale of Arno 
 which we saw to-(Jay is more beautiful than the rich lower 
 and broader vale near Florence. We went through a fine suc- 
 cession of mountain scenes till we reached the miserable little 
 town of Bibiana, where, in a dirty and low wine-house, we con- 
 sumed a portion of the cold provisions we had brought from 
 Arezzo. Wordsworth mounted on a horse, and I accompanied 
 him on foot, up a steep hill, through a dreary country, to the 
 famous Franciscan convent of Laverna.* Laverna is a lofty 
 mountain, on the top of which St. Francis built his house. t 
 On entering, we were courteously received by the poor and 
 humble monks. I thought it was Friday, and therefore did 
 not venture to ask for animal food, but requested accompani- 
 ments to the tea and sugar we had brought. While our meal 
 was preparing, we strolled through the chestnut forest to a 
 promontory, whence we had a wild and interesting country at 
 our feet. A monk we met in the forest told us some of 
 the legendary tales that abound in a region like this ; such as, 
 that the rocks, which are separated from the great mass, were 
 shaken into their present position by the earthquake at the 
 time of our Saviour's crucifixion. He showed a stone insu- 
 lated from the mass, at a spot where a fierce chief of banditti 
 confined and murdered his prisoners who were not ransomed ; 
 and told us how this chief was converted by St. Francis, and 
 became first a saint in the convent, and then a saint in heaven. 
 We chatted with several monks, all dull-looking men and very 
 dirty, but humble and kind. They gave us hot water, and 
 bread and butter and eggs, and we enjoyed our tea. Our cells 
 were small and cold, and our beds hard, but we slept well. 
 
 May 28th. — Continued our journey, with a diversion to the 
 monastery of Camaldoli. J Here again Wordsworth took a 
 horse, and I walked. The monastery lies delightfully in a se- 
 cluded valley of firs, chestnuts, &c. ; and there is a mountain 
 torrent. As we entered some men were singing, with Italian 
 gesticulation, a song or hymn in praise of May. The monks 
 
 * La Vemia, or Alvemia. 
 
 t Vide " Memorials." XIV. '' The Cuckoo at Laverna," Vol. III. p. 205. 
 
 X " Memorials," XV., XVI , XVII. Vol. III. p. 20d. 
 
1837.J FLORENCE. — BOLOGNA. — MILAN. 249 
 
 were looking on. I regretted that I could not comprehend 
 more than the animated looks and vigorous attitudes of the 
 singers. We were received by a very different kind of monks 
 from those of yesterday. They were dressed in white garments, 
 and had shoes and stockings, — in fact they were Benedictines, 
 the gentlemen of the monastic orders. While our dinner was 
 preparing, Wordsworth and I strolled up the forest. We en- 
 tered the Hermitage, where a few monks reside with greater 
 severity of discipline. When they grow old, they come down 
 to the monastery. Six years ago there was a painter here, 
 with whom I chatted. He is in the monastery now. A pic- 
 ture by him was shown to us. I made inquiries, and expected 
 to see him in the evening. But perhaps it was one of his 
 silent days. We had a good dinner, and looked into the li- 
 brary, from which I borrowed a book, to amuse myself in the 
 evening. 
 
 June 1st. — (Florence). Mayer took us to the Santa Croce, 
 — a church of great interest, from the noble characters whose 
 monuments adorn it, — Galileo, Dante, Michael Angelo, &c. 
 The general appearance of the church is fine. Wordsworth 
 afterwards walked out by himself Going out by the Croce 
 gate, he crossed the Arno by a suspension bridge, and then had 
 a delightful walk up to the San Miniato. From this eminence 
 there is a very fine view of the city, and the vale beyond. The 
 old chm'ch in its solitude is an afiecting object. It is one of the 
 primitive churches in the Lombard style. 
 
 June 7th. — (Bologna.) I spent the day more pleasantly 
 than Wordsworth. He has been uncomfortable owing to the 
 length of the streets. He is never thoroughly happy but in 
 the country. 
 
 June 12th. — One of the most agreeable days we have had. 
 Wordsworth enjoyed it more than any other. Yet we had to 
 encounter fatigue. We w^ere called up a little after two, and 
 at three were in an omnibus-shaped diligence, which was to 
 take us (from Milan) to Como. A few loud talkers kept us 
 awake. By the by, I think the lower class of Italians are 
 gi^eater talkers than the French ; yet the beauty of the Italian 
 sounds makes the talkino; less offensive. Just before we 
 reached Como the scenery bacauie very grand. On our airival 
 I had just time to run to the cathedral, but all other feelings 
 w^ere for the time overpowered by the pleasure of meeting the 
 Ticknors. A very fortunate occurrence, quite unexpected. 
 They too were going up the lake by the steamboat, and thus 
 11* 
 
250 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 we united the pleasures of the scenery with the gi'atifi cation 
 of chat with a very clever family. Perhaps on this account 1 
 saw too little of the lake. Its beauties were not unknown to 
 me. At all events, the day was a most agreeable one. The 
 view of this most beautiful of lakes was a great delight. 
 Wordsworth blended with it painfully pleasing recollections of 
 an old friend, with whom he made the same journey in ] 790, 
 and who died a few months ago. He had also a still more 
 tender recollection of his journey here in 1820 with his wife 
 and sister, when he twice visited this place. Eeturned to 
 Milan in the evening. As long as the light lasted I read 
 Lockhart's " Life of Scott," which Ticknor had lent me. 
 
 June 13th. — Accompanied Wordsworth up the cathedral. 
 A small sum of a quarter of a KopfstUck is required of each 
 person, and no one accompanies the traveller. An excellent 
 arrangement. And, as Wordsworth truly observed, the cheapest 
 of all sights for which anything is paid. The view of the sur- 
 rounding country is not to be despised ; but that is the least 
 part of the sight. Far more singular and interesting is the 
 effect produced by the numerous pinnacles on the roof of the 
 building itself. Three rows on each side, each surmounted by 
 a figure, and all of marble. Wordsworth has thus described 
 them, as seen by Fancy:. — 
 
 " Awe-stricken She beholds the array 
 That guards the Temple night and day; _ 
 
 Angels she sees, — that might from heaven have flown, 
 And virgin-saints, who not in vain 
 Have striven by purity to gain 
 The beatific crown, — 
 Sees long-drawn files, concentric rings. 
 Each narrowing above each ; — the wings, 
 The uplifted palms, the silent marble lips, 
 The staiTv zone of sovereign height,* — 
 All steeped in this portentous light! " f 
 
 We looked into the crypt of the cathedral, to see the 
 outside of the crystal coffin of St. Carlo Borromeo. A 
 gaudy sight, not worth the Zwanzigei- (S d.) given to the 
 priest. Gold and silver, sculptured, and seen by torchlight, 
 make but a sorry spectacle, though they may impose on the 
 imagination. 
 
 Jime IJftlu — (Bergamo.) This day to Wordsworth one of 
 the best of our journey. At least it partook most of that 
 
 * Above the highest circle of figures is a zone of metallic stars, 
 t Vide, " Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820." " The Eclipse of 
 the Sun," XXVII., Vol. III. p. 159. 
 
1S37.] BERGAMO. — LOVERE. LAGO DI GARDA. 251 
 
 character which suits his personal taste. A day of adventure 
 amidst beautiful scenery. We arose early, and had a few min- 
 utes' conversation with the Ticknors, who left Bergamo at six. 
 We then rambled up to the old town ; for our inn waxs only in 
 the suburbs below\ I w^as much pleased with the walk. I 
 have seldom seen a more pleasantly situated provincial town 
 in Italy, — or, indeed, in any country. We left our inn be- 
 tween ten and eleven, and drove through a pleasant country 
 to the little town of Iseo, at the foot of the lake of thq same 
 name. The day being intensely hot, we kept in-doors after 
 our arrival till evening, when a lad of the house took us to 
 the lakeside. The view very grand. Several ridges of lofty 
 mountains. The latter streaked with snow\ Finding a con- 
 veniently retired spot, I had the luxury of a bathe. Words- 
 w^orth did not return till after dark, having enjoyed his solitary 
 ramble. 
 
 June 15th. — Voyage to Lovere. Our boat the humblest 
 vehicle in which gentlemen ever made a party of pleasure. A 
 fouf-oared broad boat, with a sail. The company consisted of 
 about four sheep, one horse, one ass, one cow, about ten steer- 
 age passengers, and four or five cabin passengers, besides 
 Wordsw^orth and myself. We had the shelter of an awning- 
 near the helm ; but so ill-contrived as to allow of no comfort, 
 our posture being between lying and sitting. The day in- 
 tensely hot. At one time we were becalmed ; but there was 
 no attempt to use the oars. We went near twenty miles in 
 four and a half hours. On our arrival at Lovere, the countrv 
 was so inviting that w^e resolved to explore the neighborhood, 
 and we did so till dark. The views of the lake exquisitely 
 beautiful. At twelve p. m. we re-embarked in our boat with 
 bipeds and quadrupeds. It was about three a. m. when we 
 arrived at Iseo, and we were glad to get to bed. 
 
 June 16th. — We reached Desenzano at dusk, and were put 
 into good rooms facing the Lake Garda. A long slip of land 
 which runs into the water divides the lake into halves, and 
 ends in a knoll. This is the promontory of Sermione (Sirmium), 
 W'here Catullus had a villa. Wordsworth had a strong desire 
 to visit this point ; but the sight of it hence will probably sat- 
 isfy him. A fine view^ towards the head of the lake determined 
 us to make use of a small steamboat, w^hich to-morrow morning 
 goes to Riva. 
 
 June 18th. — (Riva.) A day to saunter about in. We 
 walked out before breakfast, taking the road to Arco above 
 
252 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 the lake. This lake is exposed tb storms, of which Virgil has 
 written alarmingly. Wordsworth soon left me, as he was an- 
 noyed by the stone walls on the road. I saimtered on, and 
 found, on inquiry, that I was now in the Tyrol ; but in this 
 remote district no one asked for passport. On my return I 
 breakfasted, and read Lady Wortley Montague, which formed 
 my resource to-day ; but I at length became anxious at Words- 
 worth's non-appearance. I remained in my room till half past 
 one, and still he had not returned, though he said he should 
 be back to breakfast. I became very uncomfortable, for I 
 feared some accident had occurred. I could no longer rest, 
 and went forth in search of him, feeling sure that, in case of 
 accident, I should be informed of it, as I was dressed so much 
 like him, that it would be taken for granted we were fellow- 
 travellers. Thinking he would be attracted by a village and 
 castles on the mountains, I took my direction accordingly, and 
 after proceeding some distance, the sound of a waterfall caught 
 my ear, and I felt sure that, if it had caught his, he would have 
 followed it. Acting upon this clew, I came to a mill where I 
 gained tidings of him. He had breakfasted there, and had gone 
 higher up. I followed on, and found a man who had seen him 
 near Riva. This relieved me of all apprehension. On my re- 
 turn to the inn, he had already arrived. A slight tempest on 
 the lake in the evening. 
 
 June 19th. — Our drive to Verona was, like all the drives in 
 this upper part of Lombardy, pleasing from the vicinity of the 
 Alps. Of Lombardy I ought to say, that the nearly entire 
 absence of beggars, except very old people, speaks well for the 
 Austrian government. On the other hand, however, we were 
 told by a German, on the steamboat to Riva, that there had 
 been very recently two highway robberies in the neighborhood 
 of Bergamo. 
 
 June 23d, — Venice impresses me more agreeably than it 
 did seven years ago. The monuments of its faded glory are 
 deeply affecting. We called on the Ticknors, and Wordsworth 
 accompanied them to hear Tasso chanted by gondoliers. 
 
 June 2Jftli, — We rose early, and our first sight was a view 
 of the city, from the tower of St. Mark's, one of the most re- 
 markable objects here. The ascent is by an inclined plane, 
 and therefore more easy than by steps. 
 
 June 26th. — Among the pictures we saw to-day two espe- 
 cially delighted me, perhaps because they were not new to me. 
 The Four Ages of Man, a favorite of dear Lamb's. He valued 
 
1837.] AMONG THE GERMANS. 253 
 
 an engraving of it. The second, a Deposition from the Cross. 
 It is remarkable for the graceful cm'ved line made by the body 
 of Christ, under which is a sheet. And the red drapery of 
 one of the men taking the body down, casts a light on it in a 
 very striking manner. St. John, while he looks on the body 
 with deep feeling, has his arm tenderly round the mother to 
 support her. Deep humanity, — and, by the by, all the paint- 
 ings of most pathos on this subject are those that keep the 
 Divinity out of sight. Who can feel jnty for God ? 
 
 June 28th. — Left Venice, and took the new road to Ger- 
 many, sleeping the first night at Lengarone, and the second at 
 Sillian. The second day's journey one of the most delightful 
 we have had for scenery. In the evening, while at our meal 
 at Sillian, there was in the house a sort of religious service. 
 One voice led, and the rest chanted a response. The words 
 were unintelligible, but the effect of this little vesper service, 
 which lasted some minutes, was very agreeable. 
 
 June SOth. — Wordsworth overslept himself this morning, 
 having for the first time on his journey, I believe, attempted 
 composition. In the forenoon, I wrote some twenty lines, by 
 dictation, on the Cuckoo at Laverna. During the preceding, 
 as w^ell as this day, I was rendered quite happy by being 
 among Germans. There is something about the people, ser- 
 vants, postilions, <fec., that distinguishes them from the grasp- 
 mg Italians. 
 
 At the grand little lake, — the Konigsee, — near Berchtes- 
 gaden, I left Wordsworth alone, he being engaged in composi- 
 tion. The neighborhood of Berchtesgaden and Salzburg greatly 
 delighted him. He was enchanted by a drive near the latter 
 place, combining the most pleasing features of English scenery 
 with grand masses and forms. At Salzburg he Tvandered 
 about on the heights, greatly enjoying the views, Avhile I was 
 attending to accounts, and reading a packet of the AUgemeine 
 Zeitung. The fashionable watering-place of Ischl was not at 
 all to his taste, and I soon found him bent on leaving it. 
 
 The peasantry of the Salzkammergut are exemplary in their 
 manners, and, except in the frequent goitres, have the appear- 
 ance of comfort. On one occasion, I perceived that I had left 
 behind my silver eye-glass and a camel's hair shaving-brush. 
 On returning to the place a day or tw^o later, I inquired of the 
 waiter whether he had found them. He knew nothing of 
 them ; but when I came to the bags, which had been set aside 
 for us, I found the eye-glass carefully tied to my bag, and the 
 
254 KKxMlNISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 brush so fastened into a leather strap that I could not fail to 
 see it. The most I should have expected would have been a 
 careful delivery up of the aii:icles, for the sake of thanks, and 
 perhaps some gratuity. 
 
 We visited one very singular place, — the town of Hallstadt, 
 on the lake of the same name. There is nothing like a street, 
 nor indeed is there room for a street. The houses are built 
 on the narrow shore and up the mountain-side, without order 
 and with little regularity. Not a horse or carriage is to be 
 seen, for the place is accessible only by water. Yet it has one 
 thousand inhabitants. A rich salt mountain lies at its back, 
 and on the height resides the Bergmeister. A very comfort- 
 able inn received us on the shore. And T liked much the peo- 
 ple I saw. I had as nice a bedroom as could be desired, and 
 w^e were supplied with excellent coffee. In the evening, Words- 
 worth being out for a walk, I got into an agTceable chat with 
 the family. 
 
 July 12th, — In the only little opening like a square, in this 
 curious town, I noticed a fountain. The forai not unpleasant. 
 The inscription I thought worth copying, as a sort of digest of 
 Catholic orthodoxy, as to the person of the Deity and the Vir- 
 gin Mary.* God the Father, having on a sort of tiara, is sit- 
 ting ; and in his lap he holds Christ. The Holy Ghost is also 
 represented. Below, in relief, the Virgin, crowned, stands on 
 the moon. The inscription is as follows : — 
 
 DEO 
 
 TER OPT : MAX I 
 
 TRINO ET UNO 
 
 *AA<|>a Kai 'fl/jteya 
 
 PATRI INGENITO 
 
 FILIO UNIGENITO 
 
 EX 
 
 UTROQUE PROCEDENTI 
 
 SPIRITUI SANCTO 
 
 MARI^ 
 
 VIRGINI MATRI 
 
 IMMACULATiE 
 
 FlLIiE PATRIS 
 
 MATRI FILII 
 
 SPIRITUS SANCTI SPOS^ 
 
 TER ADMIRABILI 
 
 * July 2M. — Gorres says that Dante sanctions the idea given of the Virgrc 
 in this inscription. 
 
1837.] MUNICH ARTISTS. ^^Mi 255 
 
 SIT SEMPITERNUM 
 
 LAUS GLORIA ET HONOR. 
 
 EX VOTO 
 
 EREXERAT : ETC., ETC. 
 
 [Initials of the Founders.] 
 
 Juli/ 15th. — Read the decree of the King of Hanover, in 
 which he said that he was not bound either in form or in sub- 
 stance by the Gimiid-Gesetz (the Constitution) ; that he would 
 take into consideration whether he would utterly abolish or 
 modify it ; that his people were to have confidence in him, and 
 obey him ; and that they were bound to submit to the old sys- 
 tem of government under which their ancestors were happy, 
 &c., &c. The King had not caused the decree to be signed by 
 his Ministers, except one, who had taken the oath of allegiance 
 to him, leaving out that part of the oath by which the Minis- 
 ter was bound to adhere to the Grund-Gesetz, &c., &c. All 
 comment is superfluous. Wordsworth related to me an anec- 
 dote that on one occasion, when the King, then Duke of Cum- 
 berland, intimated to the Duke of Wellington his intention to 
 do a certain act, the Duke replied, " If so, I will impeach 
 your Royal Highness." 
 
 (Of what remains of the diary of this tour two extracts in 
 reference to Munich, and a concluding one, are all that need be 
 given. ) 
 
 July 17th, — My acquaintance Mr. Oldenburg took Words- 
 worth and me to the studio of Kaulbach, at which we saw 
 a cartoon of great power, though not easily to be judged 
 of at once, being a vision from the writings" of Chateaubriand. 
 This picture was recommended to us by Spence as one of the 
 Videnda. 
 
 July 20th. — At the new church of St. Ludwig we were so 
 fortunate as to find Cornelius, the designer of the great work 
 which is being executed there. He was working at the great 
 picture of " The Last Judgment." He recognized me civilly. 
 Several of his pupils were at work in different parts of the 
 church. By means of sCcifFolding we could go from one part to 
 another. The artists were painting, sitting conveniently in 
 arm-chairs. The pupils were of course executing the designs 
 of their master, and he was enabled to judge of the effect from 
 below. 
 
 A ugust 7th. — We embarked at two a. m. from Calais, reached 
 the custom-house in the Thames about three p. m., and had 
 
256 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. IB. 
 
 our baggage all passed within two or three hours. After din- 
 ing at the Athenaeum, and taking tea at J affray's, I called on 
 Wordsworth at Moxon's. I found him in good spirits, and cer- 
 tainly in as good health as when he set out : I think even bet- 
 ter. And so ends this interesting tour. It will probably be 
 not altogether unproductive, though the poet has for the pres- 
 ent composed only part of a poem on the Cuckoo at Laverna.* 
 [As the reader is aware, the tour Vvas not unproductive, Mr. 
 Wordsworth having published '' Memorials of a Tour in Italy." 
 These poems were dedicated to his fellow-traveller in these 
 words : — ] 
 
 *' Companion ! by whose buoyant spirit cheered, 
 Inf whose experience trusting, day by day, 
 Treasures I gained with zeal that neither feared 
 Tlie toils, nor felt the crosses of the way. 
 These records take, and happy should I be 
 Were but the Gift a meet Return to thee 
 For kindnesses that never ceased to How, 
 And prompt self-sacrifice to which I owe 
 Far more than any heart but mine can know." 
 
 W. S. Landor to H. C. R. 
 
 [No date.] 
 
 Do you take any interest in the battle royal of Whigs and 
 Tories 1 I wish it were a less metaphorical one, and would 
 terminate like the soldiery of Cadmus. Peel, I think, is the 
 only man on either side who can do business. The Stanleys, 
 &c., &c., are jennets that have mane and tail enough, and only 
 want bodies. Poor Parigi t looks old. He often snaps at his 
 
 * The foregoing account of this tour may have disappointed the reader. 
 *' Wordsworth repeatedly said of the journey, * It is too late/ ' I have matter 
 for volumes,' he said once, 'had I but youth to work it up.' It is remarkable 
 how in that admirable poem, ' Musings near Acquapendente ' (perhaps the 
 most beautiful of the Memorials of the Italian Tour), meditation predominates 
 over observation. It often happened, that objects of universal attraction 
 served chiefly to bring back to his mind absent objects dear to him." — 
 H. C. R.'s letter to Dr. Wordsworth. Vide " ^lemoir of Wordsworth," Vol. 
 II. p. 329. 
 
 t Wordsworth originally wrote the second line of the dedication, "To whose 
 experience trusting," &c. Mr. Robinson suggested the substitution of " In " 
 for " To," on which W'ordsworth wrote: " My dear Friend, — I trust in Provi- 
 dence, I trust in your or any man's integrity^ but in matters of inferior impor- 
 tance, as companionship in a tour of pleasure must be reckoned, I prefer 
 saying ' to.' But, when the lines are reprinted, I shall be most happy to defer 
 to your judgment and feeling. Let me say, however, that my ear issuscepti- 
 ble'of the clashing of sounds almost to disease; and ' in ' and ' trusting,' unless 
 the ' g ' be well marked in pronunciation, which it often is not, make to me a 
 disagreeable repetition." 
 
 } The dog who used to escort H. C. R. as a body-guard from his master's 
 house to the gates of Florence. 
 
1S87.] THE POET OF HUMANITY. 257 
 
 two sons, as old people are apt to do. He and Powers are on 
 the best of terms. Unhappily, they have both taken a fancy 
 to cool their sides upon my white lilies, so that w^iere I ex- 
 pected at least two hundred flowers I shall hardly have 
 twenty. Take the whole plant together, leaves and all, the 
 white lily is the most beautiful one upon earth ; and her odor 
 gives a full feast, the rose's onh^ a dejeuner. It goes to my 
 heart to see the tricks Powers and Parigi have been playing. 
 It is w^ell I am not a florist ; but, on recollection, your flor- 
 ists do not trouble their heads about roses and lilies ; they 
 like only those stiff old pow^dered beaux the ranunculuses, &c. 
 I have bought a few pencillings by Vandyke, — a boy's head 
 on an account-book, — and a very fine AUori, three Cupids. 
 Allori is as fresh after three centui^ies as after the first hour. 
 Adieu ! 
 
 August 17 til, — I breakfasted w^ith Rogers this morning ; 
 Empson w'ent with me. Wordsworth there. A very interest- 
 ing chat with him about his poetry. He repeated emphatical- 
 ly what he had said to me before, that he did not expect or 
 desire from posterity any other fame than that w^hich w^ould 
 be given him for the way in which his poems exhibit man in 
 his essentially Az^ma?i character and relations,* — as child, par- 
 ent, husband, — the qualities which are common to all men as 
 opposed to those which distinguish one man from another. His 
 Sonnets are not, therefore, the works that he esteems the most. 
 Empson and I had spoken of the Sonnets as our favorites. 
 He said, " You are both wrong." Rogers, however, attacked 
 the form of the Sonnet with exaggeration, that he might be 
 less offensive. I regret my inability to record more of Words- 
 worth's conversation. Empson related that Jeffrey had lately 
 told him that so many people had thought highly of Words- 
 worth, that he was resolved to reperuse his poems, and see if 
 he had anything to retract. Empson, I believe, did not end 
 his anecdote ; he had before said to me that Jeffrey, having 
 done so, found nothing to retract, except, perhaps, a contemp- 
 tuous and flippant phrase or two. Empson says, he believed 
 Jeffrey's distaste for Wordsworth to be honest, — mere uncon- 
 geniality of mind. Talfourd, who is now going to pay Jeffrey 
 a visit, says the same. Jeffrey does acknowledge that he was 
 wrong in his treatment of Lamb. 
 
 * Dr. Channing spoke of him as " the poet of humanity." Vhlt " The 
 Present Age; an Address delivered before the Mercantile Library Company 
 of Philadelphia, May 11, 1841.*' 
 
'^i)6 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 August 21st — I must mention that this morning an act of 
 carelessi\ess on my part put my chambers in great peril. I 
 had sealed a letter in my bedroom, and used a lucifer to light 
 the candle. Some time after, Tom Martin called. He smelt 
 fire ; and on my going into the bedroom, I found it full of 
 smoke. My black coat and silk waistcoat were both on fire, 
 though not in flames. The cane chair was burnt ; had the 
 chair been in flames, the bedclothes would have caught. And 
 then 1 I rejoice and am grateful for the escape. I hope it will 
 be a caution and a warning to me. 
 
 August 23d. — I went down to Edmonton, and found dear 
 Mary Lamb in very good health. She has been now so long 
 well, that one may hope for a continuance. I took a walk 
 with her, and she led me to Charles Lamb's grave. 
 
 Rem.^ — Though my journey this year abroad was so con- 
 siderable, yet it terminated much before the ordinary time for 
 closing journeys of pleasure. I therefore gladly availed myself 
 of a proposal made by my late companion, that I should join 
 him in a short journey to the West. Wordsworth's daughter 
 was our lively and most agreeable companion. 
 
 SeptewJ)er 9th. — On our arrival at Hereford, young Mr. 
 Hutchinson took his uncle and cousin to his father's house at 
 Brinsop. And John Monkhouse, hearing of my arrival, came 
 for me, and took me to his farm-house at Whitney, sixteen 
 miles from Hereford. I spent three days with this excellent 
 man, and had an opportunity of observing how native good, 
 moral, and practical sense can enable a man to extract com- 
 fort, if not happiness, in a condition seemingly affording few 
 sources of enjoyment. He was blind : he had no educated 
 neighbors, and was forced to bear the reading aloud of unedu- 
 cated persons. His sister, Mrs. Hutchinson, lived fourteen 
 miles off. He found occupation in the management of his 
 farm, and in books. He had the consolations of religion, 
 and was interested in theological controversies. We had too 
 much matter for talk to feel in the least tired of each other's 
 society. 
 
 Of the scenery of the place Wordsworth remarked : " There 
 is too much wood here for so thinly peopled a country." 
 It was one of his striking observations : '' Solitude in a 
 waste is sublime, while it is purely disagreeable in a culti- 
 vated country." Here the wanderer sees neither houses nor 
 people. 
 
 * Written in 1855. 
 
1837.] THE YOUNG QUEEN. — WILLIAM FREND. 259 
 
 N'ovemher 9th, — This was a memorable day, being the sol- 
 emn entry of the Queen into the City of London. Between 
 ten and eleven o'clock, I walked down to the Athensemn. The 
 streets were already full, the windows filled with company, and 
 the fronts of houses adorned with preparations for the illumi- 
 nation. I took my station at the south corner of the balcony, 
 from which, after an hour's waiting, I saw the train of car- 
 riages. It was ]ong, and, with the numerous guards, — horse 
 and foot, — formed a splendid sight, more especially as Water- 
 loo Place was filled with decently dressed spectators ; but I 
 could not see a single person, not even in the Queen's state 
 'Carriage. As soon as she had passed, I ran up to the roof of 
 the houp^e, and had thence a full view of the long train of car- 
 riages in Pall Mall. 
 
 The Bishop of London told Amyot, that when the Bishops 
 were ftr*^t presented to the Queen, she received them with all 
 possible dignity, and then retired. She passed through a glass 
 door, and, forgetting its transparency, was seen to run off like 
 a girl, as she is. Mr. Quayle, in corroboration of this, told me 
 that lately, asking a maid of honor how she liked her situation, 
 and who of course expressed her delight, she said : *^ I do think 
 myself it is good fun playing Queen." This is just as it should 
 be. If she had not now the high spirits of a healthy girl of 
 eighteen, we should have less reason to hope she would turn 
 out a sound sensible woman at thirty. 
 
 Novewher 17t]u — While making a call on Mrs. Dan Lister, 
 Frend came in. He related some interesting anecdotes of his 
 famous trial at the Cambridge University, for his pamphlet 
 entitled '' Peace and Union." I had always understood that 
 this academical persecution ended in his expulsion from the 
 University and his fellowship. But it appears that he retained 
 bis Fellowship until his marriage. Six voted against its being 
 taken from him, and only four on the other side. They feared 
 a bad precedent. He would have been expelled the University, 
 for it w^as thought there was an ancient law authorizing expul- 
 sion on conviction of a libel ; but he demanded a sight of the 
 University Roll, and on reference to the original documents, it 
 was discovered that there was an informality about the law in 
 question, which made it invalid. The sole effect of the judg- 
 ment against Frend was that he w^as rusticated. He might 
 have returned to his college. 
 
260 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY OR ABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 Athen^um, 11th December, 1837. 
 My dear Friend, — Miss Martineau informs me that it be- 
 ing objected in America (when the proposal was made to give 
 copyright to English writers) that no English writers had man- 
 ifested any anxiety on the subject, a petition or memorial was 
 prepared and signed by very many English authors, for pre- 
 sentation to Congress ; that only three writers of note refused 
 to subscribe, — Mrs. Shelley, because she had never asked a 
 favor of any one, and never would ; Lord Brougham, because, 
 first, he was a member of another legislature (no reason at 
 all), and, secondly, because he was so insignificant a writer, 
 which many w^ll believe to be more true than the speaker 
 himself seriously thinks ; and W. W., Esq., whose reason is 
 not known, but who is thought to have been misinformed on 
 the subject. Notwithstanding these three blanks in the roll 
 of English literati, the petition produced an unparalleled im- 
 pression on the House of Eepresentatives. A bill w^as brought 
 into the House, and passed by acclamation unanimously, just 
 as the similar measure of Sergeant Talfourd was received here. 
 The session was a very short one, and the measure must be 
 brought forward again. But Miss Martineau is assured that 
 no doubt is entertained of its passing both Houses v/ithout 
 difficulty. She could not find the printed bill when I was 
 with her, but she says the privilege extends a long time. The 
 only obligation laid on English authors is, that their claim 
 must be made within six months of the publication in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 December 15, 1837. 
 We were glad to see your handwriting again, having often 
 regretted your long silence. To take the points of your letter 
 in order. Sergeant Talfourd did forward to me a petition, and 
 I objected to sign it, not because I was misinformed, but be- 
 cause allegations were made in it, of the truth of which I knew 
 nothing of my own knowdedge, and because I thought it im- 
 politic to speak in such harsh and injurious terms of the 
 American publishers who had done what there was no law to 
 prevent their doing. Soon after this I had the pleasure of 
 seeing a very intelligent American gentleman at Rydal, whom 
 you perhaps have seen, Mr. Duer, to whom I told my reasons 
 
Ib38.] COPYRIGHT IN AMERICA. SAMUEL SHARPE. 261 
 
 for not signing the petition ; he approved of them, and said 
 that the proper way of proceeding would have been to lay the 
 case before our Foreign Secretary, whose duty it would be to 
 open a comnmnication with the American Foreign Secretary, 
 and through that channel the correspondence would regularly 
 proceed to Congress. I am, however, glad to hear that the 
 petition was received as you report. When I was last in 
 London I breakfasted at Miss Rogers's, with the American 
 Minister, Mr. Stephenson, who reprobated, in the strongest 
 terms of indignation, the injustice of the present system. 
 Both these gentlemen spoke also of its impolicy in respect to 
 America, as it prev^ented publishers, through fear of immediate 
 underselling, from reprinting valuable English works. You may 
 be sure that a reciprocity in this case is by me mUch desired, 
 though far less on my own account (for I cannot encourage a 
 hope that my family will be much benefited by it) than for a 
 love of justice, and the pleasure it would give me to know that 
 the families of successful men of letters might take that station 
 as proprietors which they who are amused or benefited by their 
 writings in both continents seem ready to allow them. I hope 
 you will use your influence among your Parliamentary friends 
 to procure support for the Sergeant's motion. I ought to have 
 added, that Spring Rice was so obliging as to write to me upon 
 the subject of the American copyright, which letter I answered 
 at some length, and, if I am not mistaken, that correspondence 
 was forwarded by me to Sergeant Talfourd 
 
 1838. 
 
 January 28th, — At Mr. Peter Martineau's I had a very 
 agreeable chat with Samuel Sharpe.* One must respect a 
 banker who can devote himself, after banking hours, to the 
 study of Egyptian hieroglyphics, although he is capable of say- 
 ing that '* every one of Bacon's Essays shows him to be a knave." 
 Had he said that those Essays show him to be merely a man of 
 intellect, in which neither love, admiration, nor other passion is 
 visibb, I could not have disputed his assertion. 
 
 * Xcphew and partner of IMr. Rogers, and author of " The History of Eg^qDi," 
 " F.'^3'pti:m Hieroglyphics," &;c. ; ''Historic Notes on the Books of tlie Old and 
 Now Testaments," and other works in connection with the Scriptures. Mr. 
 Shai-pe has also translated the Old and New Testaments. A new work by him 
 is just published, entitled *' The History of the Hebrew Nation and its Litera- 
 ture." 
 
262 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 Bern* — He is now one of the friends in whose company I 
 have the greatest pleasure, though I still think him a man in 
 whom the critical faculty prevails too much. I once expressed 
 my opinion of him to himself in a way that I am pleased with. 
 " Sharpe," I said, " if every one in the world were like you, 
 nothing would be done ; if no one were like you, nothing would 
 be well done." 
 
 February 5tlu — Read an article by Dr. Pye Smith, who has 
 ventured to apply a little common sense to the Bible, by deny- 
 ing the spiritual character of the Epithalamium in the Old Testa- 
 ment, — " Solomon's Song." He quotes from Robert Boyle a 
 shrewd saying : *' We must carefully distinguish between what 
 the Scripture says, and what is said in the Scriptures." Pye 
 Smith also quotes one Stowe, an American, who said : *' In- 
 spiration is just that measure of divine influence afforded to 
 the sacred speakers which was necessary to secure the purpose 
 intended, and no more." This is good sense. 
 
 I will here add an anecdote, though I cannot precisely say 
 when it occurred. Seeing Milman, the Dean of St. Paul's, at 
 the Athenaeum, I related to him how an orthodox minister had 
 threatened Pye Smith with a resolution at a meeting of Congre- 
 gationalist trustees, that he should have no share in distribut- 
 ing charity money, because he had assailed the entirety of the 
 Holy Scriptures. And I asked the Dean whether the Doctor's 
 interpretation was a novelty to him. His answer was worth 
 putting down : " In the first place, I must caution you 
 against putting such questions to us clergymen. It is gene- 
 rally thought we are pledged to maintain the plenary inspira- 
 tion of the Scriptures. It is not true, by the by. However, as 
 you have put the question, I will say that I never knew a man 
 with a grain of common sense who was of a different opinion." 
 A few years have greatly changed men's feelings on this point. 
 
 February 6th. — To-day, at the Athenaeum, Milman quoted 
 Sydney Smith, in regard to "a capital hit" with the squires 
 in his parisli : when any one is charged with Unitarianism, 
 they think it has something to do with poaching. "To be 
 sure, and so it has," I answered, ''in all true Churchmen's 
 eyes ; for what is poaching but unqualified sporting without a 
 license on the Church's manor % " 
 
 February 17th. — I went early to the Athenaeum to intro- 
 duce Professor Ewald, as I have procured an invitation for him 
 for three months. His person and manners please all. His 
 
 * Written in 1855. 
 
1838.] GKORGE YOUNG. MAUKICE ON SUBSCRIPTION. 263 
 
 politics make him acceptable to many. His fine thoughtful 
 pale face interests me, who can know nothing of his Oriental 
 learning.* 
 
 Fehruary 21st. — I was nearly all the forenoon reading 
 Ewald at home and at the Athenseum, where I went for the 
 day and dined. I spent a couple of hours with Mr. George 
 Young. I took courage to relate to him an anecdote about 
 himself. Nearly forty years ago, I happened to be in a Hack- 
 ney stage-coach with Young. A stranger came in, — it was 
 opposite Lackington's. On a sudden the stranger struck 
 Young a violent blow on the face. Young coolly put his head 
 out of the window and told the coachman to let him out. Not 
 a word passed between the stranger and Young. But the latter 
 having alighted, said in a calm voice, before he shut the doorj 
 ^" Ladies and gentlemen, that is my father." Young perfectly 
 recollected the incident, but not that I was present. I at first 
 scrupled about relating the anecdote, lest it should give him 
 pain ; but, on the contrary, he thanked me for telling it him. 
 He confessed that no one could have acted better. He said his 
 father, who, like himself, was a surgeon, was a man of ability, 
 and, had he been industrious, would have been a very distin- 
 guished person. 
 
 March IStlu — Read at the Athenaeum a remarkable pamph- 
 let by a remarkable man, — Frederick Maurice's " Subscription 
 no Bondage." Admirable thoughts with outrageous paradoxes. 
 Fine reflections on the disposition which takes in all things on 
 the positive side, and disregards the negative and polemical. 
 Those who take this view are the truly religious. The opposite 
 class are the fanatical partisans of doctrine. He insinuates that 
 all parties may be content to unite, each firmly adhering to his 
 own positive doctrine, and overlooking the opposite doctrine. 
 Some one afiSrming that the title of this pamphlet had no 
 sense, I said : ^* yes, it certainly has a sense, intelligible 
 enough too." — ^' What do you mean?" — "Why, it may 
 mean. Subscribe ! you are not bound by it^ 
 
 April 29th. — I went with Mr. B. Austen f to call on Mr. 
 Broderip, a wealthy solicitor and man of taste. He has some 
 curiosities which are worth a journey to see, — among other 
 works of art a marble bust of Voltaire. Imagine the old 
 Frenchman in a full-bottomed wig, as natural as wax-work. 
 Such an eye, such wrinkles, such curls ! W^hen the influence 
 
 * Professor of Hebrew at the University of Gottiiigen. 
 
 t A solicitor, uncle of the Right Honorable Austen H. Layard. 
 
264 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13. 
 
 of his name was added to that of the work, it was impossible 
 not to be filled w4th strong emotions of wonder, though not of 
 admiration, — of fear, but not awe. It is one of the most re- 
 markable objects — not of fine art, but of consummate skill 
 — on a subject, like the w^ork, not of delight, but of intense 
 curiosity. 
 
 Mcuj 20th, — My brqakfast-party went off very well indeed, 
 as far as talk was concerned. I had wdth me Landor, Milnes, 
 and Sergeant Talfourd. A great deal of rattling on the part of 
 Landor. He maintained Blake to be the greatest of poets ; 
 that Milnes is the greatest poet now living in England ; and 
 that Scott's *' Marmion" is superior to all that Byron and 
 Wordsworth have written, and the description of the battle 
 better than anything in Homer ! ! ! But Blake furnished chief 
 matter for talk. 
 
 May 22d. — A delightful breakfast with Milnes, — a party 
 of eight, among whom were Rogers, Carlyle, — who made him- 
 self very pleasant indeed, — Moore, and Landor. The talk very 
 good, equally divided. Talleyrand's recent death and the poet 
 Blake were the subjects. Tom Moore had never heard of 
 Blake, at least not of his poems. Even he acknowledged the 
 beauty of such as were quoted. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 May, 1838. 
 
 I should have written to you some time since, but I expect- 
 ed a few W' ords from you upon the prospects of the Copyright 
 Bill, about which I have taken much pains, having written 
 (w^hich perhaps I told you before) scarcely less than fifty letters 
 and notes in aid of it. It gives me pleasure that you ap- 
 prove of my letter to Sergeant Talfourd ; from modesty, I 
 sent it to him with little hope that he would think it worth 
 while to publish it, which I gave him leave to do. He tells me 
 as you do, that it w^as of great service. If I had been assured 
 that he would have given it to the world, that letter wx)uld 
 have been written with more care, and with the addition of a 
 very few w^ords upon the policy of the bill as a measure for 
 raising the character of our literature, — a benefit which, 
 Heaven knows, it stands much in need of I should also have 
 declared my firm belief that the apprehensions of its injurious 
 effect in checking the circulation of books have been entertained 
 without due knowledge of the subject. The gentlemen of 
 
1838.] WORDSWORTH ON LITERARY COPYRIGHT. 265 
 
 your quondam profession, with their fictitious rights, their pub- 
 lic rights, their sneers at sentiment, and so forth, and the 
 Sugdenian allowance of sever years after the death of the 
 authors, have indelibly disgraced themselves, and confirmed 
 the belief that, in many matters of prime interest, whether 
 with reference to justice or expediency, laws would be better 
 made by any bodies of men than by lawyers. But enough of 
 this. My mind is full of the subject in all its bearings, and if 
 I had had any practice in public speaking, I would have grasped 
 at the first good opportunity that offered to put down one and 
 all its opponents. Not that I think anything can come up to 
 the judgment and the eloquence with which the Sergeant has 
 treated it. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 August 10, 1838. 
 
 .... I am beginning to breathe in comfort, after being 
 for some weeks employed in getting up a writing in defence of 
 our friend Clarkson against the Wilberforces. It will be out 
 in a few days. Clarkson has ordered a copy to be sent to you; 
 otherwise I know not that you would have had one. 
 
 I have heard of a lady by birth being reduced to cry ^' muf- 
 fins to sell " for a subsistence. She used to go out a-nights 
 with her face hid up in her cloak, and then she would in the 
 faintest voice utter her cry. Somebody passing by heard her 
 cry, — " Muffins to sell, muffins to sell ! 0, I hope nobody 
 hears me." This is just my feeling whenever I write anything. 
 I think it a piece of capital luck when those whose opinion I 
 most value never chance to hear of my writing. On this oc- 
 casion I must put my name ; but I have refused everybody the 
 putting it in the title-jmge. And I feel quite delighted that I 
 shall be out of the way when the book comes out. It is re- 
 markable how very differently I feel as to talk and writing. 
 No one talks with more ease and confidence than I do ; no one 
 writes with more difficulty and distrust. I am aware, that, 
 whatever nonsense is spoken^ it never can be brought against 
 me ; but writing, however concealed, like other sins, may any 
 day rise up against one 
 
 August IGtJu — The book came out to-day. And now I have 
 the mortification before me, probably, of abuse, or more an- 
 noying indifierence. Hitherto I have not had much of either 
 to complain of 
 
 VOL. II. 12 
 
266 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 13 
 
 August 21st, — Received a letter from Mrs. Clarkson, written 
 in a satisfied and grateful spirit. No praise for fine writing or 
 ability, but apparently perfect satisfaction, — Clarkson, after a 
 second perusal, returning his very best thanks, and saying he 
 considered me to have redeemed his character. This is indeed 
 the best praise ; and Mrs. Clarkson concluded by saying that 
 she felt it almost worth while to have undergone the martyr- 
 dom for the sake of the representation I have given of what 
 Thomas Clark son's services really were. This is all I wanted.* 
 
 Bem.f — The publication of Clarkson's '^ Strictures " relieved 
 my mind from a burden. It was to a great degree my own 
 work, and I was glad to have my attention drawn to other sub- 
 jects. And at this time the state of Southey's health afforded 
 an excellent occasion. It was thought by his physicians that 
 he might be benefited by an excursion to Paris, and I, with 
 others, was glad to accompany him. Our party consisted of 
 my friend John Kenyon ; J his friend Captain Jones, R. N., an 
 active, intelligent man, by birth a Welshman, who kept us in 
 good-humor by his half-serious, half-jocidar zeal for the honor of 
 his countrymen the Welsh, and their poor relations the bas 
 Bretons ; Robert Southey, Poet Laureate, dignitatis causa; his 
 friend Mr. Sennhouse, senectutis causa, a very gentlemanly man, 
 of great good-humor and good taste ; Cuthbert Southey, Jun., 
 jiiventutis causa (being a sort of hobbledehoy, and Oxford 
 nndergraduate). It would be invidious to call these last the 
 drones of the party, yet certainly we, the other three, were the 
 laborers. 
 
 From the first we resolved that Southey should be our single 
 object of attention ; we would comply with his wishes on all 
 occasions, and we never departed from this ; but none of us, on 
 setting out, were aware to how great a degree the mind of the 
 Laureate was departed. 
 
 In jest, we aftected to consider the three north-country 
 gentlemen as a princely family, while we, the others, distribut- 
 ed among us the Court offices. Kenyon hired the carriages, 
 ordered the horses, and did all that belonged to the Master of 
 the Horse, Jones was Chamberlain, and, having examined the 
 apartments, assigned to each of us his own, — consequently he 
 managed always to take the worst himself. I was Intendant, 
 .and paid the bills. 
 
 On our joiu-ney from Boulogne to Paris, we went slightly out 
 
 * Vide Note at the end of the chapter. 
 
 t Written in 1855. X SeeposL 
 
 li 
 
1838.] COURTENAY AT TABLE. 267 
 
 of our way, in order to gratify the curiosity of the author of 
 " Joan of Arc," who wished to see Chinon, where are the ruins 
 of a castle in which, according to the legend, Joan recognized 
 the King. 
 
 During our stay in Paris, I believe Southey did not once go 
 to the Louvre ; he cared for nothing but the old book-shops. 
 This is a singular feature in his character. But with this in- 
 difference to the living things around him is closely connected 
 his poetic faculty of beholding the absent as if present, and 
 creating a world for himself .... Southey read to me 
 part of a pleasant letter to his daughter, in which he said : '^ I 
 would rather live in Paris than be hanged, and could find rural 
 spots to reside in in the neighboring country. The people look 
 comfortable, and might be clean if they would ; but they have 
 a hydrophobia in all things but one. They use water for no 
 other purpose than to mix with their wine ; for which God for- 
 give them." In this letter he said that the tour had been 
 made without a single unpleasant occurrence ; and that six 
 men could not be found who agreed better. 
 
 One day, whilst we were in Paris, I dined with Courtenay. 
 He is undoubtedly a man of strong natural sense, but applied 
 in a manner quite new to me. There are many epicures in the 
 world, — many rich men who spend a fortune in their kitchens ; 
 but Courtenay is the only man I ever met with who prides 
 himself on his knowledge of good eating and drinking, and 
 who makes a boast of his attainments in this science. . . ._, 
 " It is wonderful," said Courtenay, *' how slowly science 
 makes its way in the world. I was thirty-nine years old 
 before I knew how to boil a fowl, and forty-five before I 
 could . . . . " Shame on me, I have forgotten what this 
 was in which he became late wise. ''Among my earhest friends," 
 said Courtenay, "was Major Cartwright, — a fine old aristo- 
 crat ! When he was dying, I went to take leave of him. ' My 
 boy,' said he, ' I have a great affection for you, but I have no 
 money to leave you. I will give you two recipes.' One of 
 these I have forgotten. The other was, 'Always roast a hare 
 with its skin on : it is an invaluable piece of knowledge.' " 
 
 Bem."^ — During this year I was elected a member of the 
 Committee of Management of the Council of University Col- 
 lege. My colleagues were Romilly (now Sir John and Master 
 of the Rolls) ; William Tooke ; Goldsmid (afterwards Sir Lyon, 
 and a Portuguese Baron) ; and Dr. Boott, M. D. 
 
 ^ Written in 1865. 
 
268 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap, la 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 December, 1838. 
 .... As to my employments, I have, from my mifortunato 
 attacks in succession, been wholly w^ithout anything of the kind, 
 — till within the last fortnight, when my eye, though still, alas ! 
 w^eak, was so far improved as to authorize my j)utting my brain 
 to some little w^ork. Accordingly, timid as I was, I undertook 
 to wTite a few sonnets upon taking leave of Italy. These gave 
 rise to some more, and the whole amount to nine, which I 
 shall read to you when you come, as you kindly promised before 
 you went aw^ay that you would do, soon after your return. If, 
 however, you prefer it, the four upon Italy shall be sent you, 
 upon the one condition, that you do not read the^i to verse 
 vrriters. We are all, in spite of ourselves, a parcel of thieves. 
 I had a droll instance of it this morning, for while Mary ^vas 
 writing down for me one of these sonnets, on coming to a cer- 
 tain line, she cried out, somewhat uncourteously, " That 's a 
 plagiarism." — *' From w^homl" — "From yourself," was the 
 answer. I believe she is right, though she could not point out 
 
 the passage ; neither can I Have you heard that 
 
 a proposal was made to me from a committee in the University 
 of Glasgow, to consent to become a candidate for the Lord 
 Rectorship on a late occasion, which I declined '? I think you 
 must be aware that the University of Durham conferred upon 
 me the degree of D. C. L.* last summer ; it was the first time 
 that the honor had been received there by any one in person. 
 (You will not scruple, therefore, when a difficult point of law 
 occurs, to consult me.) These things are not worth adverting 
 to, but as signs that imaginative literature, notwithstanding 
 the homage now paid to science, is not wholly without esteem. 
 But it is time to release my wdfe, this being the second long 
 letter she has written for me this morning. 
 
 NOTE.f 
 
 E sensibilities of Clarkson were painfully excited, and many friends were 
 indignant, by references to him in the '' Life of Wilberforce," which ap- 
 
 The 
 
 made ,, . 
 
 peared during the present year; and he was still more hurt by an article in the 
 Edinburcjli Revieiu, in which it was expressly stated that he was remunerated 
 for his services in behalf of the slaves, — the fact being that a sum of money 
 was given to him by way of reimbursement. This article was soon known to 
 
 * Tn another letter by Wordsworth, the degree is spoken of as LL. D. 
 t See ante. 
 
1838.] WILBERFORCE AND CLARKSON CONTROVERSY. 269 
 
 have been written by Sir James Stephen.* Clarkson immediately set about to 
 prepare a full statement of facts, though he was in his seventy-ninth year, and 
 in very infirm health. H. C. R. visited Playford while this answer was being 
 prepared, and rendered all the assistance he could, and proposed himself to 
 write an Appendix. Lord Brougham suggested that H. C. R. should also re- 
 lieve Mr. Clarkson of the trouble of bringing out the work. This Clarkson at 
 once assented to, and the work was published under the title : " Strictures on 
 a Life of William Wilberforce, by the Rev. W. Wilberforce and the Rev. S. 
 Wilberforce. By Thomas Clarkson, M. A. With a Correspondence between 
 Lord Brougham and Mr. Clarkson: also a Supplement, containing Remarks on 
 the Edinburgh Review of Mr. Wilberforce' s Life, &c. London, Longman & 
 Co. 1838. 
 
 In the following year, two volumes of '' Wilberforce's Correspondence " were 
 published, and in this work there was a note so disrespectful to Mr. Robinson, 
 that he could do no otherwise than reply to it. This he did in a work entitled ; 
 " Exposure of Misrepresentations contained in the Preface to the Con^espond- 
 ence of William Wilberforce. By H. C. Robinson, Barrister at Law, and 
 Editor of Mr. Clarkson's ' Strictures.' London, Moxon, 1840." 
 
 Both the " Strictures " and the " Exposure " called forth warm expressions 
 of sympathy and approval from many of the most prominent men in literature 
 and in politics; among others. Lord Denman, Wordsworth, and Talfourd. 
 Macaulay, meeting H. C. R., requested him to tell Mr. Clarkson that he dis- 
 avowed all participation in what had been said of him in the " Life." Lord 
 Brougham s-aid in his letter to Mr. Clarkson {vide page 13 of the " Strictures "): 
 " Any attempt to represent you as a person at all mindful of his own interest 
 would be much too ridiculous to give anybody but yourself a moment's un- 
 easiness." 
 
 But the sequel renders it unnecessary to enter into the merits of this con- 
 troversy, for the wrong done to one of the best of men was undone by those 
 who alone could undo it. The Edinburgh Review j contained an article highly 
 appreciative of Clarkson from the pen of Lord Brougham. And in Sir James 
 Stephen's collected articles,! the one on Wilberforce's Life was much altered, 
 and everything was left out of which Mr. Clarkson's friends could reasonably 
 complain. So completely satisfied was H. C. R. with this amende honorable, 
 that he invited himself to' Sir James's house, and was received with a cordiality 
 which put an end to all estrangement between them. 
 
 The Editors of the " Life," the Rev. W. Wilberforce, and the present Bishop 
 of Oxford, wrote the following letter to Mr. Clarkson : — 
 
 The Editors of the " Life of Wilberforce " to Thomas Clark- 
 son, Esq. 
 
 November 15, 1844. 
 
 Dear Sir, — As it is now several years since the conclusion of all differences 
 between us, and we can take a more dispassionate view than formerly of the 
 circumstances of the case, we think ourselves bound to acknowledge that 
 we were in the wrong in the manner in which we treated you in the Memoir 
 of our father. 
 
 We desired, certainly, to speak the strict truth in any mention of you (nor 
 indeed, are we now aware of having anywhere transgressed it), but we are 
 conscious that too jealous a regard for what we thought our father's fame led 
 us to entertain an ungrounded prejudice against you, and this_ led us into a 
 tone of writing which we now acknowledge was practically unjust. 
 
 It has pleased God to spare your life to a period far exceeding the ordinary 
 lot of men; and amidst many other grounds for rejoicing in it, we trust that 
 
 * Son of James Stephen, Esq., Master of Chancery, and the earnest and 
 etficient abolitionist. Mr. Stephen married a sister of Mr. Wilberforce. 
 t Edinburgh Review, April, 1838, p. 142. 
 I " Essays in Ecclesiastical Biography." 
 
270 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 1<3. 
 
 you will allow us to add the satisfaction which it is to our own minds to have 
 made compensation for the fault with which we may be charged, so far as it 
 can be done by its free acknowledgment to the injured party. 
 We remain, dear sir. 
 
 With much respect, 
 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 (Signed) Robert J. Wilberforce. 
 
 Thomas Clarkson, Esq. S. Wilbekfokce. 
 
 And in a letter dated 17th of November, in the same year, the present Bishop 
 wrote to Mrs. Clarkson: " The object of that" (the former letter) "was the 
 satisfaction of our consciences by the simple acknowledgment to the party in- 
 jured of what (on full consideration of all which had been urged) appeared to 
 
 us to have been the public expression on our part of an unfair judgment 
 
 We have no wish that our letter to Mr. Clarkson should be secret ; rather it 
 would be a satisfaction to us that it should be included in any Memoir of Mr. 
 Clarkson." 
 
 H. C. R., in his zeal for his friend, criticised some expressions in the letter; 
 but in Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson it produced warm feelings of satisfaction. That 
 the sons of such a man as Mr. Wilberforce should, out of their very love and 
 reverence for their father, have been led to see his labors in a light which 
 threw the labors of others too much into the shade, can be easily understood; 
 and, on the other hand, were it not for the known singleness of heart and gen- 
 uine philanthropy of Clarkson, exception might have been taken to his " History 
 of the Abolition," on the ground that honored names were left somewhat in 
 the background, through the prominence given to those things on which he 
 could speak from personal knowledge. Indeed, Southey said: "I wish that 
 instead of writing the ' History of the Abolition,' he had written that part of 
 his own biography which relates to it." 
 
 As to the public, they steadily refused to separate the names of the two men 
 who stood foremost in the cause of the slave. Southey* s lines expressed the 
 general sentiment of this country : — 
 
 " Knowest thou who best such gratitute may claim ? 
 Clarkson, I answered, first: whom to have seen 
 And known in social hours may be my pride, 
 Such friendship being praise ; and one, I ween, 
 Is Wilberforce, placed rightly at his side." 
 
 And let it not be forgotten in what high estimation these two great and good 
 men held each other. Incidental expressions of Mrs. Clarkson' s, which have 
 already appeared in this work, may be regarded as conveying her luisband's 
 sentiment as well as her own. '' One man deserves all the incense which his 
 memory has received, — good Mr. Wilberforce." — " I remember a beautiful 
 saying of Patty Smith's, after describing a visit at Mr. Wilberforce's : ' To know 
 him all he is, and to see him with such livelv childish spirits, one need notsav, 
 *' God bless him! " — he seems already in the fulness of every earthly gift.'"" 
 Southey said: " It is not possible for anv man to regard another with greater 
 affection and reverence than Clarkson 'regarded Wilberforce-" And Wilber- 
 force wrote to Clarkson: '' I congratulate you on the success of your endeavors 
 to call the public voice into action. It is that which has so gi-'eatly improved 
 our general credit in the House of Commons, for it is vour doing, under Provi- 
 dence." And again: " I shall assign it " (a copy of the "History of Abolition," 
 presented by Clarkson) " a distinguished place'^in my library, as a memorial of 
 the obligations under which all who took part in the abolition must ever be to 
 you, for the persevering exertions by which you so gi-eatly contributed to the 
 final victory. That the Almighty may bless all your other labors of love, and 
 inspire you with a heart to desire, and a head to devise, and health and spirits 
 to execute them and carry them through, is tlie cordial wish and prayer of 
 your faithful friend, W. Wilberforce." 
 
 I 
 
1839.] MISS FEIS^WICK. DE, AKNOLIX 271 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 1839. 
 
 REM.^ — My winter visit to the Words worths commenced 
 on the 28th of December. One agreeable circumstance 
 wJiicti marked it was my becoming acquainted with Miss Fen- 
 wick, an excellent lady. She is of a good family in Cumberland, 
 and devotes her affluence to acts of charity and beneficence. 
 She is warmly attached to the Wordsworths, and esteemed by 
 them as then very dearest friend. She occupied a house at 
 Ambleside, and Wordsworth, Dr. Arnold, and many others, made 
 this house a frequent end of a walk. I found her enjoying good 
 books and clever people of various kinds. Her catholic taste 
 enabled her to admire the writings of Carlyle, w^hose '' French 
 Eevolution " she lent me. She dined at Eydal Momit on New 
 Year's Day. I lost way with her by stating that I occasionally 
 visited Lady Blessington, but none by declaring Kehama to 
 be John Calvin's God. We had all sorts of literary gossip. 
 Wordsworth talks well with her, and she understands him. 
 Harriet Martineau says : " Wordsworth goes every day to Miss 
 Fenwick, gives her a smacking kiss, and sits down before her 
 fire to open his mind. Think what she could tell if she sur- 
 vives him ! His conversation can never be anticipated. Some- 
 times he is annoying, from the pertinacity with which he dwells 
 on trifles ; at other times, he flows on in the utmost grandeur, 
 leaving a strong impression of inspiration ! " 
 
 Another significant circumstance of this visit was my im- 
 proved acquaintance and more frequent intercourse with Dr. 
 Arnold, though he had since my last visit done an act which 
 had brought more reproach on him than any other, — his re- 
 signing his place in the senate of the London University, be- 
 cause Jews might be members of the University. 
 
 January 2d. — Dined with Dr. Arnold. Wordsworth, being 
 afraid of the cold, did not accompany me. Sir Thomas Pasley 
 there. The Doctor was very friendly, though he is aware that 
 I wrote against him in regard to the London University. He 
 said : ** I am no longer a member of the University ; so we are 
 no longer enemies. He talked freely about the religious con- 
 
 ♦ Written in 1855. 
 
272 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRARB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 troversies of the times ; does not like the Oxford Tract men. 
 Wordsworth rather friendly to them. 
 
 Rem,* — During one of my visits Mrs. Arnold gave me some 
 account of the family habits. On the first day of the year 
 the father and mother dined with the children in the school 
 room, as their guests, the children sitting at the head of the 
 table. On that day also appeared the Fox Row Miscellany^ 
 each member of the family contributing something to it. 
 
 January 3d, — Remained in my lodgings till Wordsworth 
 called. We then went to Miss Fenwick's. He spoke of poetry. 
 At the head of the natural and sensual school is Chaucer, the 
 greatest poet of his class. Next comes Burns ; Crabbe, too, 
 has great truth, but he is too far removed from beauty and re- 
 finement. This, however, is better than the opposite extreme. 
 I told Wordsworth that in this he unconsciously sympathized 
 with Goethe. 
 
 January Jftli, — Reading before six in bed, having a great 
 deal of reading on my hands,! several volumes of" The Doctor," 
 among other things. Wordsworth acknowledges this work to 
 be by Southey. The foui-th volume is better than the third. 
 It contains at least a beautiful account of the pious Duchess of 
 Somerset, and an interesting character of Mason the poet. I 
 was engaged in reading this volume on my way to Harden's, — 
 a snowy walk. I gave sweet Jessie a lesson in German. I had 
 pleasure, too, in hearing good old Mr. Harden utter liberal 
 opinions, political and religious. 
 
 January 6tK — Dr. Arnold preached a very sensible sermon. 
 All the Wordsworths are suffering from cold. In the evening I 
 read part of Gladstone's new book on the connection between 
 Church and State. He assumes a moral duty on the part of 
 the government to support what it deems the truth ; but here 
 a great difficulty is involved. What right has the government 
 to compel a minority either to concur in or support a Church in 
 which it does not believe % The State, as such, has no organ 
 by which to distinguish between spiritual truth and falsehood. 
 An assertion of infallibiUty leads to civil war. 
 
 January 7ih. — Wordsworth sent for me at about two, and I 
 
 * Written in 1855. 
 
 t During this Rvdal visit H. C. R. read, bv no means in a skimming manner, 
 Carlyle's " French Revolution," Arnold's " Rome," Isaac Taylor's " Physical 
 
 Harden and some of the Arnolds. 
 
1839.] ARNOLD ON RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. 273 
 
 remained at Rydal Mount all day. Dr. Arnold called. A very 
 short walk with him, to see the ravages of last night's high 
 wind. We had an agreeable evening, divided between whist, 
 Carlyle, and Gladstone. There are an infinity of relations as 
 well as of modes of viewing things, and all in their place and 
 way may be true. It is a great defect when the mind begins 
 to ossify, and to be so confined to certain fixed ideas as not to 
 be able to shift its position, and see things from all sides. 
 
 January StJi. — Finished Isaac Taylor's '' Physical Theory of 
 Another Life." It strengthens belief in a future life by help- 
 ing the imagination to realize it. It does not leave heaven to 
 be thought of as a spot for ecstatic enjoyment in the love and 
 worship of God, which to cold natures like mine gives no 
 warmth ; but a field is open on which the mind can rest with 
 hope. 0, how earnestly do I hope that I may one day be able 
 to believe ! But I feel the faith must be given me ; I cannot 
 gain it for myself I will try, but I doubt my power energeti- 
 cally to will anything so pure and elevated. I went to Words- 
 worth this forenoon. He was ill in bed. I read Gladstone's 
 book to him. A heavy snow still falling. Dined with the 
 Harrisons. The Arnolds there. An agi'eeable afternoon. The 
 conversation light and easy. The storm of last Sunday (the 
 6th) appears to have been very severe, and calamitous in many 
 places. Within a circuit of a mile round Ambleside two thou- 
 sand trees were blown down. 
 
 January IJfth, — Walked to Ambleside in search of the Ed- 
 inhurgh Review, and on my return found at the Mount Miss 
 Fen wick and Dr. Arnold. He challenged me to a walk up the 
 mountain, behind the grounds of Lady Fleming. Held a seri- 
 ous talk with him on the subject of grace and prayer, and the 
 dilemma in which we are placed. To him I put the difficulty 
 raised so powerfully by Pascal's " Letters." Grace is given if 
 prayed for, but without grace there can be no prayer. There- 
 fore they only can ask for it who have it already. The Doctor 
 denied the difficulty.* I w^as pleased both with his spirit and 
 his liberal sentiments. He asserted the doctrine that the his- 
 tory of the Fall is to be interpreted mythically. He spoke 
 also of the worth and importance of the prophetical writings 
 of the Old Testament. The hortatory parts are valuable, 
 even independently of the prophetical. The afternoon and 
 
 * Surely grace enough for us to pray may be given, without our supposing 
 that we have no need to seek more; just as' strength of body enough for activ- 
 ity is given us, though bv exercise we mav increase it. — Ed. 
 1 -2 * ' 
 
274 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 evening spent as usual, — whist and Gladstone. Wordsworth 
 still laid up by a very bad cold. 
 
 January 15th, — To-day the Wordsworths all went to Miss 
 Fenwick's for a few days' visit. I have accepted her invitation 
 to dine with her as long as the Wordsworths are at her house. 
 Southey, who was also to be her guest, came in the afternoon. 
 We had but a dull dinner, partly owing to Southey' s silence. 
 He seeemed to be in low spirits, occasioned perhaps by his 
 daughter's state of health. 
 
 January 16th. — Having a morning to myself, I called early 
 on Dr. Arnold on my way to Ambleside. A short chat only. 
 Mrs. Arnold lent me a letter in a provincial paper {The Re- 
 former), signed F. H. (Fox How), on Church Government, in 
 which the Doctor maintains that all who profess any form of 
 Christianity should be allowed to be of the Church, quoting as 
 an authority the contemporaneous baptism of many converts, 
 on the ground that the admitted Christians might make ad- 
 vances when in the Church. Not satisfied with this by any 
 means, but better pleased with his doctrine that he who wishes 
 to believe is rather to be considered weak in faith, than an un- 
 believer.* The Arnolds dined at Miss Fenwick's. The Lau- 
 reate in better spirits. Altogether the dinner passed off pleas- 
 antly. 
 
 January 18th. — On going early to Rydal Mount, I found 
 the family returned. Miss Fenwick had taken Southey back 
 to Keswick. My usual reading was interrupted by the news- 
 papers. The argument in the Queen's Bench on the Canada 
 prisoners of rare interest, but yet unfinished. I walked out 
 with Wordsworth. We met with Dr. Arnold. We talked of 
 Southey. Wordsworth spoke of him with great feeling and 
 affection. He said : *' It is painful to see how completely dead 
 Southey is become to all but books. He is amiable and obli- 
 ging, but when he gets away from his books he seems restless, 
 and as if out of his element. I therefore hardly see him for 
 years together." Now all this I had myself observed. Rogers 
 also had noticed it. With Wordsworth it was a subject of sor- 
 row, not of reproach. Dr. Arnold said afterwards : " What 
 was said of Mr. Southey alarmed me. I could not help saying 
 to myself, ^ Am 1 in danger of becoming like him 1 Shall 1 
 
 * " Mourning after an absent God is an evidence of love as strong as rejoic- 
 ing in a present one." — Robertson's Sermons, Vol. II. p. 161. "Since I 
 cannot see Thee present, I will mourn Thy absence; because this also is a 
 proof of love." — The Soliloquy of ike Soul, bv Thomas a Kempis, Chapter 
 XX. — Ed. 
 
1839.] BEN JONSON. — DINNER AT FOX HOW. 275 
 
 ever lose my interest in things, and retain an interest in books 
 only r " — " If," said Wordsworth, *' I must lose my interest 
 in one of them, I would rather give up books than men. 
 Indeed I am by my eyes compelled, in a great measure, to give 
 up reading." Yet, with all this, Southey was an affectionate 
 husband, and is a fond father. I find that his distaste for Lon- 
 don is as strong nearly as his dislike to Paris. He says he 
 does not wish to see it again. 
 
 January 20tk. — I read at night, in my room, the "■ Masque 
 of the Gypsies metamorphosed," and several other things, by 
 *'rare Ben Jonson." He is a delightful Ijr'iQ poet. Great 
 richness mixed up with grossness in his masques, makes even 
 these obsolete compositions piquant. But poetry produces a 
 slight effect on me now. Wordsworth says Ben Jonson was a 
 great plagiarist from the ancients. Indeed I remarked in one 
 masque, '' Hue and Cry after Cupid," the charming Greek idyl 
 w^holly translated and put into a dialogue without any ac- 
 knowledgment. 
 
 January 22d. — I spent the whole forenoon reading, and 
 went at four to Dr. Arnold's, to read German with his daugh- 
 ter, before dining there. She fully enjoys Goethe's odes and 
 epigrams, and it is pleasant to explain the few things she does 
 not understand. A party at dinner, — the Pasleys and Har- 
 dens. The afternoon went off very agreeably. I amused my- 
 self with Miss Arnold, while Wordsworth declaimed with Dr. 
 Arnold and Sir Thomas Pasley. Wordsworth seems to have 
 adopted something of Coleridge's tone, but is more concentra- 
 ted in the objects of his interest. I am glad to find that nei- 
 ther he nor Dr. Arnold can accompany Gladstone in his Anglo- 
 papistical pretensions. Indeed, of the two, the Doctor is the 
 less of a Churchman. T find that he considers the whole claim 
 of apostolical succession as idle. 
 
 January 2Jfth. — A violent storm of wind last night, more 
 disastrous in its eftects than any that has occurred in this 
 country for generations. Twenty thousand trees blown down 
 in Lord Lonsdale's estate. Dr. Arnold, Wordsworth, and I 
 walked to Brathay Wood to witness the ravages there. In the 
 blind force of the elements there is a sort of sublimity, when 
 it overpowers the might of man. Kant accounts for the pleas- 
 lue which such a spectacle affords by the unconscious feeling, 
 — "If this be great, the mind that recognizes it must be 
 greater still." 
 
 January 25th. — I had an agxeeable walk to Field Hall, to 
 
276 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 Mr. Harden's, ** that good old man with the sunny face," as 
 Wordsworth happily characterized him. He had lately lost 
 his wife. His beautiful daughter, Jessie, is a charming crea- 
 ture. Miss Arnold was there. I read Schiller to the young 
 ladies, and Carlyle aloud to the whole family. Mr. Harden 
 enjoyed Carlyle, as did the young ladies. I slept at Field 
 Hall. 
 
 January 26th, — A day of very varied enjoyment. After 
 prayers (read by Jessie) and breakfast, I stole out alone, and 
 had a delightful walk to Coniston Lake, i. e. to the mountain 
 that overlooks it. The day was fine, and I very much enjoyed 
 the walk. The wild scenery of the bare mountains was im- 
 proved, not injured, by the clear wintry atmosphere. 
 
 February 1st. — Read pamphlets written by Wordsworth 
 against Brougham in 1818. They w^ere on the general elec- 
 tion, and are a very spirited and able vindication of voting for 
 the two Lowthers, rather than for their radical opponent. 
 They show Wordsworth in a new point of view. He would 
 have been a masterly political pamphleteer. There is nothing 
 cloudy about his style. It is full of phrases such as these, — 
 " Whether designedly, for the attainment of popularity, or in 
 the self-applauding sincerity of a heated mind." — " Indepen- 
 dence is the explosive energy of conceit making blind havoc 
 with expediency." 
 
 February 2d, — Left my excellent friends, after a visit of 
 pleasure more abundant than any I recollect, though I have 
 been able to preserve only these few memorials. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Rydal Mount, 19th January, 1839. 
 
 I meant to stay here only a month, but the Words worths 
 seem so unwilling to let me go, that I foresee I shall not get 
 away till the end of five weeks. In addition to Wordsworth 
 and the ladies, from all of whom I receive almost overwhelm- 
 ing expressions of kindness, I have had the great additional 
 pleasure afforded by Dr. Arnold's family. The Doctor, though 
 he knows I wrote against his scheme of forcing scriptural ex- 
 aminations on the London University, is more attentive to me 
 in every way than three years ago. I dine with him now and 
 then alone ; w^hen we can riot unrestrained in Whig politics, 
 and he talk freely on Church Reform. Besides, I have a plenty of 
 new and very interesting books. There was a time when' I used 
 
1839.] ON SEVERAL BOOKS 277 
 
 to fill letters (and you too) with an account of one's reading. 
 We have both left off the idle practice. I feel disposed to re- 
 sume it on this occasion, as I really have some information to 
 give you which you may probably be interested in. I have 
 read to the family Gladstone " On the Eolation of the Church 
 to the State." It will delight the High-flying Anglo-papistic 
 Oxford party, but only alienate still further the conscientious 
 Dissenters and displease the liberal Churchmen. Even Words- 
 worth says, he cannot distinguish its principles from Eoman- 
 ism. Whilst G. expatiates with unction on the mystic charac- 
 ter of the Churchy he makes no attempt to explain what is the 
 Church of England ; though, to be candid, even Dr. Arnold is 
 not able to make that clear to me. 
 
 I have read the third, fourth, and fifth volumes of Southey's 
 " Doctor." A very pleasant, but a very unsubstantial book. 
 There is a graceful loquacity in it, resembling the prose of 
 Wieland, and, bating occasional bursts of Tory and High- 
 Church spleen, very pretty literary small talk, with most amus- 
 ing and curious quotations, — the sweepings of his rich li- 
 brary. 
 
 Then I am slowly reading Carlyle's " French Eevolution," 
 which should be called rhapsodies, — not a history. Some one 
 said, a history in flashes of lightning. And provided I take 
 only small doses, and not too frequently, it is not merely agree- 
 able, but fascinating. It is just the book one should buy, to 
 muse over and spell, rather than read through. For it is not 
 English, but a sort of original compound from that Indo-Teu- 
 tonic primitive tongue w^hich philologists now speculate about, 
 mixed up by Carlyle more suo. Now he who wall give himself 
 the trouble to learn this language will be rew^arded by admira- 
 ble matter. Wordsworth is intolerant of innovations. Southey 
 both reads Carlyle and extols him ; and this, though Carlyle 
 characterizes the French noblesse, at the Etats Generaux, as 
 ^' changed from their old position, drifted far down from their 
 native latitude, like Arctic icebergs got into the equatorial sea, 
 and fast thawing there " ; and the French clergy as an anoma- 
 lous class of men, of whom the whole world has a dim un- 
 derstanding, that it can luiderstand nothing I should 
 
 have mentioned, before this book, Dr. Arnold's " History of 
 Rome." A popular history, combining an interesting narrative 
 taken from the legends ; and from Niebuhran exposition of the 
 fabulous character of the History of Livy and other romance 
 writers. I long for the continuation. 
 
278 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 But the works which have most interested me are the writ- 
 ings of a man whose name you have, perhaps, not yet heard of, 
 • — indeed the books are all anonymous, — Isaac Taylor, of 
 Ongar. Yet they are precisely of the kind tha-t most interest 
 you ; and unless years have too hardly ossified your mind (to 
 use a favorite image of Goethe), will renew the pleasure which 
 Priestley's metaphysics afforded you forty years ago. At least, 
 as for myself, I can say that they have delighted me as much as 
 Godwin and Hume delighted me forty years ago, notwith- 
 standing their highly religious and even orthodox character. 
 His first work was entitled '' The Natural History of Enthu- 
 siasm." I am reading the seventh edition of it, 1834. All 
 his other writings are more or less popular ; and yet he has 
 been very little reviewed or talked about by other than his ad- 
 mirers. I think I can account for it. His great scheme was 
 successively to develop the aberrations of the religious senti- 
 ment or character. And he has published volumes on " Fanati- 
 cism," " Spiritual Despotism," *^ Superstition," and means to 
 write on the " Corruption of Morals," and on " Scepticism," as 
 the aberration of the intellectual faculty. Now, in the course 
 of this cycle, he avows himself dissatisfied with all parties. A 
 Dissenter by education, he declares himself convinced of the 
 Scriptural truth of Episcopacy, and utters a prayer for the 
 perpetuity of the English Episcopal Church ; but then he as- 
 serts his conviction that in that Church a second reformation 
 is as necessary as the first was in the sixteenth century. In his 
 book on " Superstition," he professes to show which of the su- 
 perstitions of the Roman Church still survive in the Anglican, 
 And in his " Spiritual Despotism," he says that while the An- 
 glican Kitual retains before its Articles the declaration of the 
 King, the Episcopalians have no right to reproach the Romanists 
 with despotism. Of this series, I have read with great pleasure 
 the " Spiritual Despotism." It involves most of the questions 
 discussed by Gladstone and Warburton ; and without saying that 
 I concur with him in any of his great conclusions, I can say that 
 I have read the w^hole with great pleasure. I am now reading, 
 with more mixed feelings, his first work on " Enthusiasm," which 
 shows, I think, an intellect less uniformly sharpened by exer- 
 cise. But the book which has most pleased me, and which I 
 particularly recommend to you, is a recent work, — "" Physical 
 Theory of another Life." It is a work of pure speculation, but 
 rich in thoughts and in imaginations, which are not given pre- 
 sumptuously as truths ; he does not reason from Revelation, 
 
1839.] ARNOLD SITTING FOR HIS PORTRAIT. 279 
 
 but to it ; that is, shows that all he imagines as possible is 
 compatible with it. He says it will not please those who think 
 of heaven as a place where angels are engaged in ecstatic con- 
 templations of God, for he supposes, in the other life, analo- 
 gous occupations, and a scheme of duties arising out of an ex- 
 pansion of our powers. The leading thought of the whole 
 book is contained in St. PauFs expression, there is a spiritual 
 hody and a natural body. He declares the whole controversy 
 concerning matter and spirit to be idle and worthless, which 
 men will soon cease to discuss. In the other world, we shall 
 have still a body, but a spiritual body ; and the whole specu- 
 lation is a development of the distinction. You, v/ho love 
 metaphysics as I do, will enjoy this. Others, who think the 
 present life affords sufficient matter for our investigation, may 
 be better pleased with his ^' Spiritual Despotism," &c., (fee. 
 He has also written on " Home Education," and a work of a 
 more devotional kind, called ^' Saturday Evening." Whenever 
 you answer this letter, I wish you would tell me what Priestley 
 says of that famous passage in the Corinthians about the 
 spiritual hody. 
 
 I wish you would write to me, but do not delay above three 
 or four days, lest I should have left my present quarters. 
 Can you tell me anything about the Clarksons % I am glad to 
 have found Wordsworth quite pleased with the "Strictures." 
 
 February 8th. — An interesting rencontre in the studio of 
 Phillips, K A., where Dr. Arnold was sitting for his portrait. 
 Bunsen was reading Niebuhr to him. Mrs. Arnold, Prof. 
 Lepsius,* and Mrs. Stanley, wife of the Bishop of Norwich, 
 came afterwards. 
 
 March 2d, — Called at Francis Hare's. Only Mrs. Hare's 
 sister at home. Mrs. Shelley came in with her son. If talent 
 descended, what might he not be % — he, who is of the blood 
 of Godwin, Mary Wollstonecraft, Shelley, and Mrs. Shelley ! 
 What a romance is the history of his birth ! 
 
 April 15th, — A busy day. At two o'clock I accompanied 
 the Clarksons to the Mansion House, where he received the 
 freedom of the City. It was a delightful scene, and even 
 pathetic. The mover and seconder of the resolution, Wood 
 and Laurie, Richard Taylor, Sydney Taylor, Dr. Barry, Shep- 
 pard and his father, Haldane, and J. Hardcastle, and several 
 ladies, with Mrs. Clarkson, were of the party. Short and neat 
 
 * The distinguished Egyptologist. 
 
280 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 speeches were made by the Lord Mayor and Chamberlain (Sir 
 John Shaw). Clarkson's reply was admirably delivered. A 
 tone of voice so sweet as to be quite pathetic. There was a 
 graceful timidity mingled with earnestness. An evident satis- 
 faction, very distinguishable from gratified vanity. Every- 
 body was pleased. We adjourned to the Venetian room and 
 took luncheon. 
 
 April 26th. — This morning Aders's pictures were sold. 
 Among my purchases were a Holy Family by Perugino, — so 
 said, at least. W. S. Landor says it is by Credi, but Raphael 
 did not paint better. I like it much. A St. Catherine by 
 Francia, which I like next. Landor praises it. A copy of the 
 Annunciation at Florence, a miracle picture. A Descent from 
 the Cross, by Hemling, genuine German. A Ruysdael, and a 
 Virgin and Child, on gold, by Van der Weyde. The last two 
 were liked by Wordsworth, and I gave them to him. 
 
 May 1st — I heard Carlyle's first lecture on " Revolutions." 
 It was very interesting, though the ideas were familiar to me. 
 A great number of interesting persons present, — Bunsen, Mrs. 
 Austin, Lord Jeffrey, Fox, &c., &c.* Called at John Taylor's, 
 where I found his aunt, Mrs. Meadows Taylor, who was Miss 
 Dyson fifty-five years ago, and used to come to my mother's. 
 She recollects that Henry was a lively boy. 
 
 Eem.'f — My recollection was rather of her blue sash than 
 of her. She was at Miss Wood's school, at Bury. She has 
 now been long dead. Not many years ago, passing through 
 Diss, I called on a daughter, Miss Taylor, who was then living 
 in the house in which her father and his ancestors had practised 
 as attorneys more than 130 years ! 
 
 Jtme lltk, — A most interesting party at Kenyon's. The 
 lion of the party was Daniel Webster, the American lawyer 
 and orator. He has a strongly marked expression of counte- 
 nance. So far from being a Republican in the modem sense, he 
 had an air of Imperial strength, such as Csesar might have 
 had. His wife, too, had a dignified appearance. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Ticknor alone resembled them in this particular. There were 
 present also at Kenyon's, Montalembert, the distinguished 
 Roman Catholic author, Dickens, Professor Wheatstone, the 
 Miss Westons, Lady Mary Shepherd, &c., (fee. 
 
 June 27th. — In the evening went to a party at the Lind- 
 leys'. I went to meet Mrs. Daniel GaskeU. She drew upon 
 
 * H. C. R. sedulouslv attended the whole cour=-e. 
 •t Written in 1858. 
 
1839.] MRS. D. GASKELL. 281 
 
 herself a great degree of notice from the leading part she took 
 \n public matters. She was unquestionably a character. 
 
 Rem,^ — In her youth she was a disciple of Godwin, as I 
 was in mine ; and he was among the objects of her especial 
 interest in his old age. He was frequently at her house. She 
 was also very kind to John Thelwall's daughter, and not the 
 less so for her becoming a Roman Catholic. Indeed, it was 
 said that any deviation from the ordinary rules of conduct was 
 to her a recommendation rather than otherwise. A lady, 
 being asked whether Mrs. Gaskell had called on her, said : ^- 
 no ; she takes no interest in me. I have neither run away 
 from my husband, nor have any complaint to make of him." 
 Of her Liberal opinions she was proud, and she was generous 
 and warm-hearted. One who had been speaking of her zeal in 
 all matters of education and in public institutions, added, 
 '' She gets up regularly every morning at five o'clock to misin- 
 form herself" Mr. Gaskell was once in Parliament. He w^as 
 universally respected and liked. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 Rydal Mount, 7th July, 1839. 
 
 .... Relieve the people of the burden of their duties, 
 and you will soon make them indifierent about their rights. 
 There is no more certain way of preparing the people for slav- 
 ery than this practice of central organization which our phi- 
 losophists, with Lord Brougham at their head, are so bent upon 
 importing from the Continent. I should have thought that, in 
 matters of government, an Englishman had more to teach those 
 nations than to learn from them 
 
 July 9th, — Dined at Joseph Hardcastle's. Melvill, the 
 popular preacher, there, and F. Maurice and others. John 
 Buck, too, was there. I had not seen him for a long time. He 
 smiled when he saw me. I said : "I can read your smile. It 
 means, — What, Saul among the prophets ! ' " I took my place 
 at the bottom of the table. The top was occupied by the 
 Reverend Stars. One incident is worthy of mentioning. Some 
 one spoke of the American sect called Christ-mTi^, ^' -^7?" 
 said one of the divines, "it is safer to lengthen a syllable than 
 a creed ! " This as a mot is excellent. I could not distinguish 
 from whom it came. 
 
 * Written in 1858. 
 
282 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 Rem* — I lately taxed Maurice with it. He disclaimed it. 
 Not from disapprobation, he said. Yet I was told it was hardly 
 likely to be Melvill's. But my journal speaks of him as cheer- 
 ful and agreeable, and not at all Puritanical. And therefore 
 let it be ascribed to him, if he likes to have it. 
 
 July 17th, — I joined my friends the Masqueriers at Leam- 
 ington, and remained with them a fortnight. 
 
 Rejn.* — This excursion has left several very agreeable rec- 
 ollections. Among these, the most permanent was my better 
 acquaintance with the Field family. I then knew Edwin Field 
 chiefly as the junior partner of Edgar Taylor, who was at that 
 time approaching the end of an honorable and a useful life. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Field, Sen., were then living in an old-fashioned coun- 
 try house between Leamington and Warwick. He had long 
 been the minister at Warwick, and also kept a highly respect- 
 able school. He was known by a " Life of Dr. Parr," whose inti- 
 mate friendship he enjoyed. His wife was also a very superior 
 woman. I had already seen her in London. I heard Mr. Field 
 preach on the 21st. His sermon was sound and practical, op- 
 posed to metaphysical divinity. He treated it as an idle ques- 
 tion, — he might have said a mischievous subtlety, — whether 
 works were to be considered as a justifying cause of salvation, 
 or the certain consequence of a genuine faith. 
 
 August 8th, — Breakfasted at Sam Rogers's with W. Maltby. 
 There came in a plain-looking man from the North, named Mil- 
 ler, of free opinions and deportment. He had risen by his tal- 
 ents j and Eogers told us his history. " He called on me lately," 
 said Rogers, " and reminded me that he had formerly sold me 
 some baskets, — his own work, — and that on his showing me 
 some of his poems I gave him three guineas. That money en- 
 abled him to get work from the booksellers, and he had since 
 written historical romances, — ' Fair Rosamond,' ' Lady Jane 
 Grey,' " &c. 
 
 August 29th. — After an early dinner, I walked to Edmonton, 
 where I stayed more than two hours. Poor dear Mary Lamb 
 has been ill for ten months ; and these severe attacks have pro- 
 duced the inevitable result. Her mind is gone, or, at least, has 
 become inert. She has still her excellent heart, — is kind and 
 considerate, and her judgment is sound. Nothing but good feel- 
 ing and good sense in all she says ; but still no one would dis- 
 cover what she once was. She hears ill, and is slow in concep- 
 
 * Written in 1858. 
 
1839.] CLARKSON. 283 
 
 tion. She says she bears solitude better than she did. After 
 a few games of piquet, I returned by the seven-o'clock stage. 
 
 September 25th, — Left my chambers in Plowden Buildings, 
 and went to my apartments in Eussell Square, No. 30. I am 
 to pay for this, my new domicile, <£ 100 per annum. It gives me 
 no vote, subjects me to no service. I have no reason to com* 
 plain of my surroundings. Fellows* has the second floor. 
 
 October 7th. — A delightful drive to Ipswich, where Mr. Clark* 
 son's servant was waiting for me. I reached Play ford between 
 twelve and one. Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson seemed much better in 
 health than they were. During a three days' stay I enjoyed 
 much of their company. Mr. Clarkson gave me to read a little 
 " Essay on Baptism " he had \vritten for his grandson. In this 
 little tract he maintains, with great clearness, and, at least, to 
 my perfect satisfaction, that Christ's commission to baptize was 
 a commission to convert and make proselytes from other relig- 
 ions, and that it was not intended to baptize the children of 
 Christians. Repentance is the condition of salvation ; baptism 
 a mere formal, and not an esssential, condition. Without pre- 
 tending to have an opinion on a question of history, ignorant 
 as I am, I would merely say this, that there is nothing unreason- 
 able in combining with a spiritual change a symbolic act ; but 
 it is most unreasonable to maintain that the effect of baptism 
 partakes of the nature of galvanism. 
 
 October 20th, — Dined with the Booths. A very pleasant 
 man there, a Mr. James Heywood, from Manchester, said to 
 be munificent towards Liberal institutions. A sensible man, 
 too ; so that I enjoyed the afternoon. I was perfectly at my 
 ease. 
 
 Bem.1i — He afterwards became the representative in Parlia- 
 ment of one of the divisions of Lancashire. He studied at 
 Cambridge; but, not being able to sign the Thirty-nine Arti- 
 cles, could not take his degree. This gave him a sort of right 
 to take up the question of University Reform, which he did 
 boldly. He was the first to bring the matter before the House 
 of Commons. 
 
 October 21st. — I dined at the Athenaeum, where I heard 
 from Babington Macaulay a piece of news that will excite sen- 
 
 * Sir Charles Fellows, the well-known traveller and antiquarian discoverer 
 in Asia Minor. The Lycian Saloon in the British Museum is fllled with there- 
 mains of ancient art, which he brought with him from Lycia. He had the valu- 
 able help of Mr. George Scharf in making drawings of the works of art dis- 
 covered among the ruins of the ancient cities which thev visited. 
 
 t Written in 1858. 
 
284 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. U. 
 
 sation all over Europe. Lord Brougham has been killed by 
 the breaking of a carriage, — killed on the spot ! I never 
 remarked a more general sentiment of terror. Such power 
 extinguished at once ! I was accosted by persons who had 
 seldom, or never, spoken to me before. Lockhart, son-in-law 
 of Sir Walter Scott, &c., &c. Some of us had doubted whether 
 his political change would not take away his interest in our 
 College, but Romilly said : " No, he would never have left us ; 
 he was strongly attached to the College. Death, for the pres- 
 ent, at least, quits all scores. The good only will be remem- 
 bered." 
 
 October 22d. — 0, what a lamentable waste of sensibility ! 
 On my going to the Athenseum, Levesque accosted me with : 
 " It is a hoax, after all. Brougham is not dead." I fear this 
 is not an indictable offence. Those who had mourned most 
 conspicuously were ashamed to rejoice. 
 
 November 11th, — A party at Masquerier's. Robert Thomp- 
 son, an old man, an octogenarian, was the attraction. He was 
 more than the publisher of Burns's Songs, — he occasioned the 
 composition of many. He is a specimen of Scotch vitality. 
 He fiddled and sang Scotch songs all the evening. A daughter 
 attended him, the wife of an M. D., Dr. Fisher, older than her 
 father. This sturdy vitality, bred in Scotland, is characteris- 
 tic of the people. 
 
 Rem,^ — As Froude says in his history: "Whatever part 
 the Scotchman takes, he is anything but weak." But, by way 
 of comment, I add, that the fierce devotional character of the 
 Scotch is purely national. They are the same in all things. 
 
 To continue the subject of national character. Some years 
 after this, when the Dissenters' Chapel Act was under discus- 
 sion, and Mr. Haldane and I tolerated each other, I met by 
 chance, in his chambers. Sir Andrew Agnew, to whom I re- 
 marked \ "1 think an infidel Radical a mischievous character, 
 but a Radical saint is more dangerous." He said, '' Ay, he 
 is more in earnest." But, in the same conversation. Sir An- 
 drew showed a want of presence of mind. Not disputing the 
 pure motives of the Scotch Sabbatarians, of whom Sir Andrew 
 was the head, I said that I thought it fortunate that their so- 
 ciety had no existence in the time of our Lord, '' for they 
 certainly would have persecuted him." He was silent. Per- 
 haps he saw that I was incurable. 
 
 December 28th, — Read an admirable article on Voltaire, by 
 
 * Written in 1858. 
 
1840.] MISS MACKENZIE'S DEATH. 285 
 
 Carlyle. No vulgar reviling. Voltaire's good qualities are 
 acknowledged ; but he is represented in the inferior character 
 of a persifleur, with dexterous ability in carrying out the con- 
 clusions of his mere understanding. 
 
 In the course of this year I called on Lord Brougham, and 
 explained myself fully about Clarkson. He informed me of 
 having received Clarkson's MSS. Quite unprintable in their 
 present form. I told him of my wish to write Clarkson's life ; 
 and he at once said no one else should have the MSS. Next 
 day I wrote an account of this to Mrs. Clarkson, and I hope^. 
 therefore, that the result will be as I wish.* 
 
 1840. 
 
 March 11th, — I was distressed by a letter this morning, from 
 Miss Mary Weston, announcing the death of Miss Mackenzie, 
 at Rome, on the 26th ult. She was an excellent person, for 
 whom I had a sincere regard, — warm-hearted, and endowed 
 with fine taste. She had a love of all excellence, and was 
 grateful to me for having enabled her to make Wordsworth 
 happy for a month at Rome. I wrote to Wordsworth to-day, 
 informing him of her death. He will deeply lament this. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 . March 16, 1840. 
 
 Poor dear Miss Mackenzie 1 I was sadly grieved with the un- 
 thought-of event ; and I assure you, my dear friend, it will be 
 lamented by me for the remainder of my days. I have scarce- 
 ly ever known a person for whom, after so limited an acquaint- 
 ance, — limited, I mean, as to time, for it was not so as to heart 
 and mind, — I felt so much esteem, or to whom I have been 
 more sincerely attached. I had scarcely a pleasant remem- 
 brance connected with Rome in which her amiable qualities 
 were not mixed, and now a shade is cast over all. I had hoped, 
 too, to see her here, and that Mrs. Wordsworth, Dora, and 
 Miss Fen wick would all have taken to her as you and I did. 
 
 How comes it that you write to us so seldom, now that post- 
 age is nothing ? Letters are sure to be impoverished by the 
 change ; and if they do not come oftener, the gain will be a 
 loss, and a grievous one too. 
 
 * For some reason, which does not appear, this plan fell through. 
 
286 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 March 19, 1840. 
 
 You ask why I write so seldom. The answer is an obvious 
 one, and you will give me credit for being quite sincere when 
 I make it. It is but seldom that I dare to think that I have 
 anything to say that is worth your reading. The feeling is 
 not so strong as it was, because I have for some years been 
 aware of a part of your character which I was at first ignorant 
 of. Rogers, a few mornings ago, took up your " Dedication to 
 Jones " to read to me. " What a pity it would have been had 
 this been left out ! " he said. " Every man who reads this 
 must love Wordsworth more and more. Few know how he 
 loves his friends ! " 
 
 Now I cannot charge myself of late with having omitted to 
 write whenever anything has occurred to any friend of yours, 
 or, indeed, any one in whom you take an interest. To others 
 I frequently write mere rattling letters, having nothing to say, 
 but merely spinning out of one's brain any light thing that 
 one can pick up there. I need not say why I cannot write so 
 to you. 
 
 Formerly, and even now in a slight degree, I used to be 
 checked, both in writing and in talk, by the recollection of the 
 four sonnets, so beautiful, and yet beginning so alarmingly, 
 
 " I am not one who much or oft delight 
 To season my fireside with personal talk.'* 
 
 Now, after all, a letter — a genuine letter — is but personal 
 talk 
 
 April 2d, — I had invited Mr. Jaffray to meet me at the 
 Non-cons, where I presided. I never presided at any dinner 
 in my life before. In delivering the toasts, I playfully laughed 
 at our having symbols of any kind, being Non-cons. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 .... Our three standing toasts are, first, " The Memory 
 of the Two Thousand." And then it was that I took the club 
 by surprise, by declaiming, as impressively as I could, 
 
 "Nor shall the eternal roll of Fame reject," &c.* 
 
 The second toast is, " John Milton." 
 
 * " Wordsworth's Poetical Works," Vol. IV. p. 62. 
 
1840.] THE NON-CON. CLUB. — CAKLYLt:. 287 
 
 On this I recited, 
 
 " Yet Truth is keenly sought for, and the wind," &c.* 
 
 Our third toast is, '^ Ciyil and Religious Liberty all the 
 World over." 
 
 Having unhappily no -third sonnet, I made a speech, and 
 took the opportunity to inveigh against the Parliamentary 
 privilege, which I introduced by pointing out the vulgar error 
 of confounding popular p>ower with civil or religious liberty ; 
 showing that, though sometimes the power of the people is a 
 means for securing liberty, yet often the people and their rep- 
 resentatives are mere odious tyrants, hence privilege I , , . , 
 
 May 8th. — Attended Carlyle's second lecture. It was on 
 ** The Prophetic Character," illustrated by Mahomet. It gave 
 great satisfaction, for it had uncommon thoughts, and was de- 
 livered with unusual animation. He declared his conviction 
 that Mahomet was no mere sensualist, or vulgar impostor, but 
 a real reformer. His system better than the Christianity cur- 
 rent in his day in Syria. Milnes there, and Mrs. Gaskell, with 
 whom I chatted pleasantly. In the evening heard a lecture 
 by Faraday. What a contrast to Carlyle ! A perfect experi- 
 mentalist, — with an intellect so clear I Within his sphere, 
 mi uomo compito. How great would that man be who could 
 be as wise on Mind and its relations as Faraday is on Matter ! 
 
 May 12th, — Went to Carlyle's lecture " On the Hero, as a 
 Poet." His illustrations taken from Dante and Shakespeare. 
 He asked whether we would give up Shakespeare for our In- 
 dian Empire '^ t 
 
 May 22d. — This day was rendered interesting by a visit 
 from one of the most remarkable of our scholars and men of 
 science, Professor Whewell. He breakfasted with me and my 
 nephew. The occasion of his visit was, that I might look over 
 his translation of '' Hermann and Dorothea " with the original, 
 with a view to some suggestions I had made. His pursuits 
 are very multifarious. To some one who said, "" Whe well's 
 forte is science," — " Yes," said Sydney Smith, ^' and his foible 
 is omni-science." 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. K. 
 
 June 3, 1840. 
 .... Hartley Coleridge is come much nearer us ; and 
 
 * " Wordsworth's Poetical Works," Vol. IV. p. 61. 
 
 t H. C. R. attended the whole course ; but it is not necessary to make any 
 extracts, as the lectures themselves are familiar to the reader. 
 
288 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 14 
 
 probably you might see as much of him as you Uked. Of 
 genius he has not a little ; and talent enough for fifty 
 
 December 22 d. — I went out early, to breakfast with Rogers. 
 A most agreeable chat. He was very cordial, communicative, 
 and lively ; and pointed out to us his beautiful works of art, 
 and curious books. I could not help asking, " What is to be- 
 come of them r' — " The auctioneer," he said, ^' will find out 
 the fittest possessor hereafter. He who gives money for things 
 values them.* Put in a museum, nobody sees them." I al- 
 lowed this of gold and silver, but not of books ; such as his 
 ^^ Chaucer," with the notes Tooke wrote in it when in the 
 Tower, with minutes of the occurrences that then took place. 
 So Tooke's copy of the " Trial of Hardy," &c., with his notes. 
 " Such books you should distinguish with a mark, and say in 
 your will, ' All my books with the marks set out, to So-and-so.' " 
 I fear he will not pay attention to this. 
 
 Becemher 2Sd. — I called on Lord Brougham. It is strange 
 that, in his presence, I forgot all. my grounds of complaint 
 against him. 
 
 My tour this year was to Frankfort. On the bridge there, 
 on the 7th of October, I last saw my old friend Voigt and his 
 amiable family. He always showed me great kindness, and I 
 sometimes felt ashamed of myself for being too sensible of his 
 harmless vanity. I must not forget to mention one fact, which 
 he related to me in our last cosey talk, and which does honor 
 to one of the first-class great men in Germany : " When I 
 w^ent first to Paris I was a young man, and had little money, 
 so that I was forced to economize. A. Humboldt said to me 
 one day : ' You must want to buy many things here, which 
 you may not find it convenient to pay for immediately. Here, 
 take a thousand fi:'ancs, and return it to me some five or ten 
 years hence, whenever it may suit you !'" Voigt accepted the 
 money, and repaid it. 
 
 * H. C. R.'s feelings were exactly the reverse. He had the greatest anxiety 
 that nothmg which had belonged to him should be sold. 
 
1841.] SOUTHEY'S LIGHTER RHYMES. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 1841. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Masquerier. 
 
 Rydal, 18th January, 1841. 
 Instead of telling you of him (Southey) in this sad condition, 
 I will copy a pleasant jeu dJ esprit by him when pressed to write 
 something in an album. There were on one side of the paper 
 several names j the precise individuals I do not know. One 
 was Dan O'Connell. Southey wrote on the other side, to this 
 effect. I cannot answer for the precise words, — 
 
 Birds of a feather 
 
 Flock together, 
 Pw?e tlie opposite page ; 
 
 But do not thence gather 
 
 That I 'm of like feather 
 With ail the brave birds in this cage, &c., &c.* 
 
 Surely good-humor and gentle satire, which can offend no 
 one, were never more gracefully brought together. This re- 
 minds me of another story. It is worth putting down. A 
 lady once said to me, " Southey made a poem for me, and you 
 shall hear it. I was, I believe, about three years old, and used 
 to say, * I are.' He took me on his knee, fondled me, and 
 would not let me go till I had learned and repeated these 
 lines, — 
 
 A cow's daughter is called a calf. 
 
 And a sheep's child, a lamb. 
 Little children must not say / are^ 
 But should always say I amy 
 
 Now a dunce or a common man would not throw off, even 
 for children, such graceful levities. I repeated this poem to 
 Southey. He laughed and said : " When my children were in- 
 fants, I used to make such things daily. There have been 
 hundreds such forgotten." 
 
 In the spring of this year, my nephew, who had long exhib- 
 
 * H. C. R. often told this story, with the concluding line, — 
 
 " Or sing when I'm caught in a cage." 
 
 The point was Southey' s lui willingness to write at all in an album. 
 VOL. TI. 13* s 
 
290 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chaf. 16. 
 
 ited signs of pulmonary consumption, became much worse. 
 Change of air was recommended, and Chfton was the place 
 selected. I went down on the 19th of April and returned on the 
 4th of May. Wordsworth was at the time staying with Miss 
 Fenwick, at Bath, and I went over to see him. My nephew 
 was placed under the care of Mr. Estlin, one of the most ex- 
 cellent of men, independently of his professional reputation. 
 Dr. Bright preferred him to any other medical man in the 
 place. My nephew returned to Bury, and on the 1 6th of June 
 he died. The last few weeks were a salutary preparation, and 
 he declared them to be among the happiest of his life. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 June 5, 1841. 
 
 One thing is quite certain, that the older we become, and the 
 nearer we approach that end which we, with very insignificant 
 diversities of age, shall certainly soon reach, our speculations 
 about, religion become more earnest and attractive. Hence 
 the interest we feel in theological discussions of any kind. 
 These supersede even the politics of the day. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 AxHENiEUM, 17th July, 1841. 
 
 My presentiment becomes stronger every day that I shall die 
 suddenly, without previous illness, and not live to be very old. 
 I often think of dear Tom's last weeks. The repose with which 
 he looked forward to death, and the unselfishness of his feel- 
 ings, add greatly to my esteem for his memory. Dining the 
 day before yesterday at a clergyman's, I related some anecdotes 
 of my nephew's last days, and ventiu-ed on the bold remark 
 that I thought his conduct evinced a more truly Christian 
 feeling than that diseased anxiety about the state of his soul 
 which certain people represent as eminently religious. My 
 host did not reprove, but echoed the remark ; and he said the 
 same day : "If I found Calvinism in the Bible, it would 
 prove, not that Calvinism is true, but that the Bible is false." 
 
 Rem, — During Wordsworth's stay at Bath, he wrote to me 
 {A2^il 18th) : " This day I have attended, along with Mary, 
 Whitcomb Church, where, as I have heard from you, your 
 mother's remains lie. I was there also the day before yester- 
 day ; and the place is so beautiful, especially at this season of 
 
1842.] DEATH OF MANY OLD FRIENDS. 291 
 
 verdiire and blossoms, that it will be my favorite walk while I 
 remain here ; and I hope you will join us, and take the ramble 
 with me. Some time before Mary and I left home, we inscribed 
 your name upon a batch of Italian memorials, which you must 
 allow me to dedicate to you when the day of publication shall 
 come." 
 
 On the 3d of March died my old and excellent friend J. T. 
 Rutt, the earliest, and one of the most respected, of my friends. 
 He was in his eighty -first year. About the same time died 
 also W. Frend and George Dyer, " both," says my journal, " of 
 the last generation." That is, they acquired note when I was 
 a boy. My journal adds : " The departure of these men makes 
 me feel more strongly that I am rapidly advancing into the 
 ranks of seniority." I wrote this when I was nearly sixty-six 
 years of age. I copy it when I am in my eighty-fifth year. 
 
 Alexander Gooden also died during this year. He was second 
 son of James Gooden, of Tavistock Square, and one of the most 
 remarkable and interesting young men I have ever known. He 
 died suddenly, on the Continent, from inflammation, occasioned 
 by rowing on the Rhine. His attainments were so extraordi- 
 nary, and so acknowledged, that when Donaldson, of the Uni- 
 versity College, was a candidate for the mastership of Bury 
 School, Alexander Gooden, then an undergraduate, was thought 
 fit to sign a testimonial in his favor. His modesty and his 
 sensibility were equal to his learning. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 1842. 
 I H, C. R. TO J. J. Masquerier. 
 
 Rydal Mount, 5th January, 1842. 
 .... Did you ever see this country, or district, in winter ] 
 If not, you can have no idea of its peculiar attractions ; and 
 yet, as an artist, with a professional sense of color, you must 
 feel, far more intensely than I possibly can, the charm which 
 the peculiar vegetation and combination of autumnal tints 
 produce. Dr. Arnold* said, the other day : " Did you ever 
 
 * During this visit I had, for the last time, the pleasure of seeins: Dr 
 Aruolcl. But there was no apprehension of his health giving way, and no 
 
292 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16 
 
 see so magnificent a Turkey-carpet 1 There are none like it 
 now to be had ; I have ascertained that the manufacturers of 
 the East have broken up their old frames, and got new pat- 
 terns." Here, on the mountains, there is such a union of light 
 brown and dark yellow, with an intermingling of green, as 
 produces a delicious harmony. Both, of all artists, comes the 
 nearest ; Berghem is too fond of the lilac. It would be ab- 
 surd to say that this lake district is more beautiful in winter 
 than in summer ; but this is most certain, — and I have said 
 it to you, I believe, repeatedly, — that it is in the winter 
 season that the superiority of a mountain over level country 
 is more manifest and indisputable. I brought down Mrs. 
 Quillinan,* and we arrived here on Christmas eve ; and I shall 
 take her back about the 16th or 17th. This railway travelling 
 is delightful, and very economical too. We made the journey 
 for four guineas each, and in between sixteen and seventeen 
 hoiu*s. A few years since, it was usual to be two nights on 
 the road, and incur nearly double the expense 
 
 January 6th. — Took a walk, with Wordsworth, under 
 Loughrigg. His conversation has been remarkably agreeable. 
 To-day he talked of Poetry. He held Pope to be a greater 
 poet than Dryden ; but Drj^den to have most talent, and the 
 strongest understanding. Landor once said to me : " Nothing 
 was ever written in hymn equal to the beginning of Dryden's 
 Religio Laid, — the first eleven lines." Genius and ability 
 Wordsworth distinguished as others do. He said his Preface 
 on poetical language had been misunderstood. '' Whatever is 
 addressed to the imagination is essentially poetical ; but very 
 pleasing verses, deserving all praise, not so addressed, are not 
 poetical." 
 
 January IJfth. — Read, at night, Dix's "Life of Chatter- 
 ton " : a poor composition. It contains some newly discovered 
 poems. I never could enjoy Chatterton ; tant pis pour moi, I 
 have no doubt ; but so it is. This morning I have finished 
 the little volume. I do feel the beauty of the " Mynstrelles 
 Songe in JEUa " ; and some of his modern poems are sweetly 
 written. I defer to the highest authority, Wordsworth, that 
 
 special attention was given to his conversation. He was a delightful man to 
 walk with, and especially in a mountainous country. He was physically 
 strong, had excellent spirits, and was joyous and boyish in his intercourse 
 with his children and his pupils. — H. C. R. 
 
 * Dora Wordsworth married Mr. Quillinan, of whom see ante^ p. 240, and 
 more hereafter. 
 
1842.] ON CHATTERTON. — CLARKSOX. 293 
 
 he would probably have proved one of the greatest poets in 
 our language. I must therefore think he was not a monster 
 of wickedness ; but he had no other virtue than the domestic 
 affections very strongly. He was ready to write for both 
 political parties at once. I think Horace Walpole has been 
 too harshly judged. Chatterton was not the starving genius 
 he afterwards became, when Walpole coldly turned his back 
 upon him. But certainly H. Walpole wanted generosity. He 
 was a courtier ; and showed it in his exceedingly polite letter, 
 written while he knew nothing of Chatterton's situation. He 
 showed no sagacity in the appreciation of his first communica- 
 tion ; and the tone of his "Vindication" (against exaggerated 
 censure) is flippant and cold-hearted. I asked Wordsworth, 
 this evening, wherein Chatterton's excellence la}^ He said his 
 genius was universal ; he excelled in every species of composi- 
 tion ; so remarkable an instance of precocious talent being 
 quite unexampled. His prose was excellent ; and his power , 
 of picturesque description and satire gi^eat. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. ^ 
 
 30 Russell Square, 22d April, 1842. 
 
 .... I left Mrs. Clarkson on Monday, after spending 
 nearly a week at Playford. The old gentleman maintains an 
 admirable activity of mind. He is busily employed writing 
 notes on the New Testament, for the benefit of his grandson. 
 And though these are not annotations by which biblical criti- 
 cism will be advanced, yet they show a most enviable state of 
 mind. With this employment he alternates labor on behalf 
 of his Africans, He ^Tote lately a letter to Guizot, which 
 has been circulated with effect in France. 
 
 Never was there a man who discharged more completely the 
 duty of hoping. As I said in the Supplement to the "Strict- 
 ures," as soon as he is satisfied that any measure ought to 
 succeed, it is not possible to convince him that it cannot. 
 Enviable old man ! for this is not the habit of age. 
 
 23d April, 1842. 
 
 I am very busy to-day, but over my tea I read one poem 
 (but one), so beautiful, that it must smi-ely become a great 
 favorite, — the *^ Musings at Acquapendente." It illustrates 
 happily the poet's peculiar habit. His anticipations of unseen 
 "Rome occupy him quite as much as the reflections on the 
 
294 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 already seen Northern Italy. What a delightful intermingling 
 of domestic affections, friendship, and the perception of the 
 beauties which appertain to home as well as to the country 
 visited as a stranger ! The poet's mind blends all, and allows 
 of no insulation. I called on Kenyon this morning. He read 
 me a charming letter from Miss Barrett, full of discriminating 
 admiration. 
 
 April 29th. — Breakfasted with Sam Rogers, with whom I 
 stayed till twelve. He was as amiable as ever, and spoke 
 with great warmth of Wordsworth's new volume. *' It is all 
 gold. The least precious is still gold." He said this, ac- 
 companying a remark on one little epitaph, that it would have 
 been better in prose. He quoted some one who said of 
 Burns : " He is great in verse, greater in prose, and greatest in 
 conversation." So it is with all great men. Wordsworth is 
 greatest in conversation. This is not the first time of Rogers's 
 preferring prose to verse. 
 
 May 12th. — Called on the Words worths. We had an in- 
 teresting chat ^about the new poems. Wordsworth said that 
 the poems, ^^ Our walk was far among the ancient trees," then, 
 " She was a phantom of delight," * next, " Let other bards of 
 angels sing," and, finally, the two Sonnets ^' To a Painter " in 
 the new volume (of which Sonnets the first is only of value as 
 leading to the second), should be read in succession, as exhibit- 
 ing the different phases of his affection to his wife. 
 
 Stayed at the Athenaeum till I came to dress for dinner at 
 the Austins'. I went to meet Mr. Plumer Ward. Found him 
 a very lively and pleasant man, in spite of his deafness. He 
 related that, soon after his '' Tremaine " appeared, he was at a 
 party, when the author (unknown) was inquired about. Some 
 one said, " I am told it is nqtj dull." On which Ward said : 
 " Indeed ! why, I have heard it ascribed to Mr. Sydney Smith." 
 " dear, no," said Sydney, " that could not be ; I never 
 wrote anything very dull in my life." 
 
 May 28th. — Dinner-party at Kenyon's. Wordsworth w^as 
 quite spent, and hardly spoke during the whole time. Rogers 
 made one capital remark ; it was of the party itself, the ladies 
 being gone. He said : " There have been five separate parties, 
 every one speaking above the pitch of his natural voice, and 
 therefore there could be no kindness expressed ; for kindness 
 consists, not in what is said, but how it is said." 
 
 * The poet expressly told me that these verses were on his wife. — H. C. R. 
 
1842.] DR. ARNOLD'S DEATH. — MENDELSSOHN. 295 
 
 June 13th. — At Miss Coutts's party. "There were," says 
 the Post, " two hundred and fifty of the hmit ton^ I had ac- 
 quaintances to talk w^ith, — Wordsworth, Otway, Cave, Har- 
 ness, and Milnes. The great singers of the day, Lablache, 
 Persiani, &c., &c., performed. But the sad information of the 
 evening rendered everything else uninteresting. Milnes in- 
 formed me of the death of Dr. Arnold, which took place yes- 
 terday, — a really afflicting event. 
 
 June IJftli. — After breakfast called on the Wordsworths. 
 They were all in affliction at the Doctor's death. He is said 
 to be only fifty-two. What a happy house at once broken up ! 
 Bunsen's remark was, " The History of Eome is never to be 
 finished." 
 
 June 26th. — I met at Goldsmid's, by accident, with the fa- 
 mous musician Mendelssohn, and his wife. She at once recog- 
 nized me. She was the daughter of Madame Icanrenaud, 
 and granddaughter of the Souchays. The conversation with 
 him was very agreeable. He said he had been inconvenienced 
 by the frequent mention of him in the " Correspondence be- 
 tween Goethe and Zelter." He had been Zelter's pupil. It 
 was a curious coincidence, that this day I brought from Sir 
 Isaac's a volume of the Monthly Magazine, containing a trans- 
 lation by me of a correspondence between Moses Mendelssohn, 
 the musician's grandfather, and Lavater, — the Jew repelling 
 with spirit the officious Christian, who wanted to compel him 
 to enter into a controversy with him. T wished the Goldsmids 
 to know how early I embraced liberal opinions concerning Ju- 
 daism. 
 
 Rem.* — I once heard Coleridge say : " When I have been 
 asked to subscribe to a society for converting Jews to Chris- 
 tianity, I have been accustomed to say, ' I have no money for 
 any charity ; but if I had, I would subscribe to make them 
 first good Jews, and then it would be time to make good Chris- 
 tians of them.' " 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 May 21, 1842. 
 
 . . . .'Now as to my dinner, — a much humbler concern, 
 but, being purely personal, it admits of a more copious state- 
 ment. It went off very well. The parties were, primo, the 
 host. Secondly, he himself (avroi), as one at the feast insisted 
 on so referring to Homer, thinking, after the fashion of the 
 
 * Written in 1849. 
 
296 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 Rabbis, that the name ought not to be profanely pronounced. 
 3 and 4, two reverend divines, both anti-Evangelical; both 
 verse-makers and dabblers in polite literature, both professing 
 orthodoxy in doctrines and High-Churchism in matters of dis- 
 cipline, but in whom the man of literary taste is more appar- 
 ent than the theologian. 5, Eev. T. Madge, a lover of 
 Wordsworth and his poetry. 6, W. S. Cookson, Esq.', attor- 
 ney-at-law, an intimate friend of the poet, and also a hearer of 
 Mr. Madge's. By the by, I must go back again to 3 and 4, 
 because I find I have omitted the names, 3 being the Rev. W. 
 Harness, author of '' Welcome and Farewell," and 4 being the 
 Rev. Peter Eraser, whom you may recollect by a sobriquet 
 given by me to him, and which you alone will understand, — 
 Ben Cork. 7, The poet's son-in-law, Mr. QuilHnan. 8, Thos. 
 Alsager, one of the leading men in the conduct of the Times, 
 being especially concerned in all that respects the collection of 
 mercantile and foreign news. He was the intimate friend of 
 Charles Lamb, and therefore Wordsw^orth was very glad to see 
 him. 9, James Gooden, Esq., residing in Tavistock Square, 
 an elderly gentleman, long an admirer of Wordsworth, and a 
 good scholar ; of which he gave me a proof in turning into Latin 
 verse, ^^As the laurel protects the forehead of poets from 
 lightning, so the mitre the forehead of bishops from shame." 
 10, My old friend, Thomas Amyot. The poet made himself 
 very agreeable, talking at his ease with every one. Indeed, he 
 has been remarkably pleasant diu-ing his visit to London ; and 
 has dined every day, except when he condescended to wander 
 into the terra incognita of Russell Square, with bishops and 
 privy councillors, peers and archbishops 
 
 August 2Sd. — Called on Mary Lamb. She has not long 
 been visible. I found her quite in possession of her faculties, 
 and recollecting everything nearly. She was going to call on 
 Thomas Hood, who lives in St. John's Wood, and I walked 
 w^ith her and Miss Parsons. We left a card at the Procters', 
 and I deposited Miss Lamb at Hood's. I then called on the 
 Quillinans, with w^hom I took tea, and had a pleasant chat about 
 Faber, Hampden, and such contentious matters. 
 
 September 3d. — Went down to Bury, an account of my 
 brother's illness.* 
 
 * This was the beginning of those attacks, first feared to be apoplectic, 
 afterwards proving to be epileptic, from which Mr. Thomas Robinson suffered 
 during the remainder of his life. 
 
1842.] ON A YOUNG POET. 297 
 
 October 9th. — Read in bed at night, and finished in the 
 morning, an old comedy by Porter, " The Two Angry Women 
 of Abingdon," — a very pleasing thing, the verse fluent, and 
 the spirit kept up. Charles Lamb ventured to prefer it to the 
 " Comedy of Errors" and the " Taming of the Shrew," which 
 I should not have dared to do. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mr. James Booth.* 
 
 November 18th. 
 
 Dear Booth, — I shall not be able to write to my satisfac- 
 tion about your young friend's poems ; and therefore I de- 
 layed writing. He has at all events secured my good-will by 
 manifesting that he has studied in the schools that I like best. 
 His sonnets show that he has accustomed himself to look at 
 nature through Wordsworthian spectacles, and the longest 
 poem that he has given a specimen of was probably planned 
 after an admiring study of Coleridge's " Christabel." 
 
 But whether, after all, he has in him an original genius, 
 which ought to be nourished to the rejection of all lower pur- 
 suits, or whether he has (the common case) confounded taste 
 with genius, liking and sympathy with the instinct of con- 
 scious power, is more than I can venture to say after a perusal 
 of these specimens. I do not see proof of the genius and 
 power; but I would not dogmatically say that he has them 
 not. The rhythm in this poem after "Christabel" is often 
 very pleasing to my ear ; but then the form of the verse is, 
 after all, the easiest and most seductive to young composers, 
 and some of the best lines are shreds and fragments of recol- 
 lected verse. 
 
 There is more pretension in the sonnets, — perhaps I should 
 say more ambition in the attempt. Wordsworth's sonnets are 
 among the greatest products of the present day ; but then 
 they are perfectly successful. There is no allowable medium 
 between the carrying out the idea and utter failure. Words- 
 worth has been able to exhibit already that harmony in nature 
 and the world of thought and sentiment, the detection of 
 which is the great feat of the real poet. To take one single 
 illustration. In his poem on the Skylark, he terminates his 
 description of the bird mounting high, and yet never leaving 
 his nest over which he hovers, with 
 
 " True to the kindred points of heaven and home." 
 
 * This letter, which has only just come into the editor's hands, belongs to n 
 somewhat earlier time ; but its interest does not depend on the date. 
 13* 
 
298 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 Such a line as this is an acquisition ; for here is admirably in- 
 sinuated the connection between the domestic affections and 
 the religious feelings, which is important in moral philosophy, 
 coupled with the fanciful analogy to an instinct in the bird. 
 Wordsworth's poems abound in these beauties. Now, reading 
 your friend's sonnets, one fancies he might have had some im- 
 perfect thought of the same kind, and regrets that one cannot 
 find it clearly made out. If I were his friend, I would ask 
 him what he supposes the sonnet No. 1 to have taught, for he 
 calls the leaves " spirit-teaching garlands." It is a fact that 
 the leaves fall gently in autumn, — what then % 
 
 No. 2 is a laborious attempt to show an analogy between 
 the rising, the midday, and the setting sun, and the tree in 
 spring, summer, and autumn. Now, I fear the analogies are 
 far fetched, and if clearly made out, — what then ? It is not 
 enough to find an analogy between ttvo things ; they must 
 harmonize in a third. And here there is no attempt at that. 
 I can at least find out what was attempted in two ; but I can- 
 not find out so much in No. 3. The theme is the repose aris- 
 ing out of certain combinations of light and shade. That is 
 the heading or title, but the thing itself is wanting. No. 4 
 will serve to illustrate the difference between success and fail- 
 ure, if you will trouble yourself to compare it with Words- 
 worth's sonnet on " Twilight." For the thought is (as far as 
 I can find a thought) the same. 
 
 " Hail Twilight, sovereign of our peaceful hour." III. 64. 
 
 No. 5, " On the Hawthorn," is one of the best. The poet 
 has looked steadily on his object, and told us what he saw. 
 But I do not understand the twelfth line. No. 6 is in the 
 Italian taste, a mere conceit ; but a young poet, if any one, 
 has a right to conceits. 
 
 No. 7 has the merit of thought; and it must be owned that 
 to attempt such a sonnet as this, even when not successful, is 
 better than success in mere trifles. This, and also the last, 
 show a sincere and honorable love of nature, and a faculty, if 
 not of finding, at least of looking for analogies and harmonies 
 with the moral world. 
 
 The two songs are easier and more pleasing compositions. 
 
 December 6th. — The only incident of the day was my ad- 
 mission to the Antiquaries' Club. Sir H. Ellis in the chair, 
 senior member ; Pettigrew, treasurer, vice. Sixteen present, 
 
1842.] TALK WITH FABER. 299 
 
 of whom one was a visitor, — Hardwick the magistrate. The 
 only formality on reception was the stating one's birthday, — 
 the year also, — except subscribing the book of laws, which are 
 few and insignificant. The club was founded in 1774. The 
 number limited to twenty-four. 
 
 Deccmhei' SOth. — (Rydal.) Engaged last night and this 
 morning reading again Dr. Arnold's " Church Reform," in 
 which I was inteiTupted by a call from Faber, with whom I 
 took a very interesting walk to Easdale Tarn. The wind high, 
 the sky overcast, but no actual rain, — ground wet ; the Tarn 
 more grand, from the gloom of the day, for the magnificent 
 ivall of rock to the west. On our return we called on Mrs. 
 Luff", and chatted half an hour with her. So our walk occu- 
 pied four hours. 1 was fatigued. Had a good nap after din- 
 ner, but enjoyed my rubber of whist, and sat up till near one, 
 reading two Evening Mails and four Times papers. During 
 the long walk of the morning we w^ere engaged in a most in- 
 teresting conversation, during which Faber laid dowm the most 
 essential parts of his religious opinions. 1 will set down what 
 I can recollect, without any attempt at order in my memoran- 
 da. Our conversation began by my declaring my strong ob- 
 jection to the persecuting spirit of his book. He maintained 
 that I had misunderstood the drift of the passage in which the 
 Stranger declares it to be the duty of the State to put to death 
 the man whom the Church declares to be a heretic. He, of 
 course, adverted to the great distinction between error, and 
 the wilful and malignant assertion of it, — which, in fact, is 
 no distinction at all, — and affirmed strongly his personal an- 
 tipathy to all penal statutes in support of religion. He affirmed 
 the right of the Church to excommunicate, but thought that 
 no civil consequences ought to follow. Persecution is the in- 
 evitable consequence of the union of Church and State, and 
 the first thing he should wish to see done would be their sep- 
 aration ; but whether practicable, under present circumstances, 
 is a hard question. He thought that the Church would gain, 
 even by the sacrifice of its endowments, and could maintain 
 itself by its inherent power. In the mean while, he disclaimed 
 all right to assume authority over those who are out of the 
 Church. He thought there ought to be a University for Dis- 
 senters alone, though he would not have a College (which I 
 suggested) of Dissenters in either Oxford or Cambridge. He 
 incidentally declared his indifierence to Whigs, Tories, and 
 Radicals, having no predilections ; and so far from being hostile 
 
300 REMINISCENCKS OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 16. 
 
 to horn Dissenters, as such, he thought any serious orthodox 
 Dissenter ought to pause, and consider well what he did, before 
 he departed from " the state into which Providence had called 
 him " ; and he exonerates all born Dissenters from the sin of 
 schism. This same regard to the will of Providence influences 
 him in his feelings towards the Church of Rome. He is cer- 
 tain he will never go over to Rome, though he rather regrets 
 not having been born in that communion. He believes both 
 the Roman and Anglican churches to be portions of the Cath- 
 olic Church. On my objecting to the manifold corruptions of 
 the Romish Church, he admitted these, but held that they did 
 not invalidate its authority. They are trials of the faith of 
 the believer. This same idea of the trial of faith he applied 
 to other difficulties, and to the seeming irrationality of certain 
 orthodox doctrines. A revelation ought to have difficulties. 
 It is one of the signs of its Divine origin that it seems incred- 
 ible to the natural man. On this topic, I confessed that I 
 agreed with him, so far as obvious mysteries are concerned. 
 As to the nature of Christ, for instance. I am no more re- 
 pelled from belief in his double nature as God and man, by 
 its inconceivableness, than from a belief in my own double 
 nature, as body and soul ; but I could not extend this to those 
 pretended revelations, which are repugnant to my moral sense. 
 Did I find, for instance, in the Scriptures, the eternal damna- 
 tion of infants, this would, in spite of all evidence in their fa- 
 vor, make me reject the Scriptures ; that is, I w^ould imagine 
 any falsification, or corruption of the text, rather than believe 
 they contained a doctrine which blasphemed against God. To 
 this he declared, that were even this doctrine in the Scriptures 
 (but the contrary of which is there), he would believe it, be- 
 cause what God affirms must be true, however repugnant. I 
 conceded the last position, but observed that it begged the 
 question to say the Scriptures must, even in that case, be be- 
 lieved to be true. And as to the Scriptures, Faber's own no- 
 tions should lead him to agTee in this ; for one of the most re- 
 markable parts of his system is his placing the Church above 
 the Scriptures. Coleridge, in a well-known passage in his •' Con- 
 fessions," exhibits them in a sort of scheme as thesis and anti- 
 thesis, being one — essentially one — emanation ; bat Mr. 
 Faber declared that, without the Church, the Scriptures would 
 not suffice to convince him, — he should be an unbeliever ; and 
 he declared Bibliolatry to be the worst of idolatries. By the 
 by, it is curious to remark how both parties in the Church 
 
 I 
 
1842.] FABER ON THE REAL PRESENCE. 301 
 
 concur in oifering an apology for the unbeliever. These Pusey- 
 ites, or Faberites, must consider the infidels as better logicians 
 than the Dissenters, who deny the Church, and vet are Chris- 
 tians ; and the Evangelicals must think the unbelievers better 
 logicians than those who rest their faith on the Church, and 
 according to whom the Scriptures are only a record of that 
 which had been established, that is, the Church itself. On 
 this subject Mr. Faber said : " This is the essence of my re- 
 ligion in a few words, — Man fell, and became the object of 
 God's wrath ] but God, in his mercy, willed his redemption. 
 He therefore became man, and made himself a sacrifice for 
 man. But this alone would be nothing, for how is the indi- 
 vidual man restored to God's favor % How is it put in his 
 power to be a participator in this redemption ] This is effected 
 by the Sacraments. By the Sacrament of Baptism, the indi- 
 vidual is purged of his Original Sin, and becomes a member 
 of the Church of Christ. He is still obnoxious to the conse- 
 quences of actual sin." But though he did not happen to say 
 this, yet of course he would have said, if it had been called 
 for, that preservation from sin, and from the fatal consequen- 
 ces, is to be seciu'ed only by Confirmation, and the participa- 
 tion in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. He did, in fact, in 
 emphatic terms, assert the Real Presence, and that the Sacra- 
 ment could only be validly administered by the clergy legiti- 
 mately appointed by Episcopal ordination, in Apostolic succes- 
 sion. He also said : " I do not presume to declare all those to 
 be lost w^ho have not been partakers of these Sacraments. I 
 say that those w^ho have, have an assurance^ which the others 
 have not, concerning whom I affirm nothing." This, of course, 
 is but a small part of what he said, and I would not be confi- 
 dent of having accurately reported everything. Nothing 
 could be more agreeable than his manner, and he impressed 
 me strongly with his amiability, his candor, and his ability. 
 But I could agree with very little indeed. 
 
302 REMINISCENCES OF HENBY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 1843. 
 
 SUNDA F, January 1st — The day was fine, and, after ap 
 early dinner, I had a delightful walk with the poet to the 
 church lately erected on the road leading to Langdale, — a pic- 
 turesque object in a splendid situation, but, within, a naked and 
 barn-like building. A very interesting conversation, which 1 
 regi^et my inability to record. It was on his own poetry, and 
 on Goethe and his poetry. He again pressed on me the draw- 
 ing up of reminiscences of the gTeat men I have seen in Ger- 
 many ; and, by the earnestness of his recommendation, has made 
 me more seriously resolve to execute my long-formed purpose. 
 He approved of the title, " Retrospect of an Idle Life," to which 
 I object only because it seems to embrace my whole life ; and 
 I think it is only abroad that I can find fit materials for a pub- 
 lication. He thinks otherwise. 
 
 January 5th. — A walk with Wordsworth and Faber. Theit 
 conversation I was not competent altogether to follow. Fabei' 
 attempted — but failed — to make clear to my mind the dif- 
 ference between transubstantiation, which he rejects, and 
 consubstantiation, which he still more abominates. Words- 
 worth denied transubstantiation, on grounds'^ on which," says 
 Faber, "I should deny the Trinity." Wordsworth declared, in 
 strong terms, his disbelief of eternal punishment ; which Faber 
 did not attempt to defend. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Rydal (Ambleside), January 29, a. m., 1843. 
 You will expect a sort of history of my goings-on here, but I 
 find I have very little indeed to say. My faculty of noticing and 
 recording good things is very poor ; nor is the great poet I now 
 see every day a sayer of good things. He is, however, in an ex- 
 cellent frame of mind, being both in high health and good spirits, 
 and not over-polemical in his ordinary conversation ; but we 
 have no want of topics to dispute upon. The Church, as you 
 are aware, is now, much more than Religion, the subject of 
 general interest ; and the Puseyites are the body who are now 
 pushing the claim of Chnrcli Authority to a revolting excess. 
 
/M3.] FABER A FANATIC. 303 
 
 The poet is a High-Cburchman, but luckily does not go all 
 lengths with the Oxford School. He praises the Reformers (for 
 they assume to b^3 such) for inspiring the age with deeper rev- 
 erence for antiquity, and a more cordial conformity with ritual 
 observances, as well as a warmer piety ; but he goes no further. 
 Nevertheless he is claimed by them as their poet ; and they 
 fiave published a selection from his works, with a preface, from 
 which one mig^ht infer he went all leno^ths with them. This 
 {^reat question forms our Champ de Mars, which we of the Liberal 
 party occupy to a sad disadvantage. 
 
 Last year we had with us an admirable and most excellent 
 man, — Dr. Arnold, whom the poet was on doctrinal points 
 forced to oppose, though he was warmly attached to him. In- 
 stead of him, we have this year a sad fanatic of an opposite 
 character. I doubt whether I have mentioned him to you on 
 any former occasion. This is Faber, the author of a strange 
 book lately pubUshed, — " Lights, &c. in Foreign Lands." He 
 is a flaming zealot for the nev*^ doctrines, and, like Froude, does 
 not conceal his predilection for the Church in Eome (not of 
 Rome yet), and his dislike to Protestantism. In his book of 
 travels, he puts into the mouth of a visionary character a doc^ 
 trine which in his own person he indirectly assents to, or, at least, 
 does not contradict, — that whenever the Church declares any 
 one a heretic, the State violates its duty if it hesitates in put- 
 ting him to death ! ! ! This is going the whole hog with a wit- 
 ness. This Faber is an agreeable man ; all the young ladies are 
 in love with him, and he has high spirits, conversational talent, 
 and great facility in writing both polemics and poetry. He and 
 I spar together on all occasions, and have never yet betrayed ill- 
 humor, though we have exchanged pretty hard knocks. I think 
 I must have mentioned him last year. We have met but once 
 yet at a dinner-party, when we had not fighting room. He dines 
 with us again to-day, and we shall be less numerous. You are 
 aware that here I am considered as a sort of Advocatus Diaholi, 
 
 29th, p. M. 
 
 I have had a very pleasant chat with Mr. Faber, who, in spite 
 of everything in his book, protests that he can never by any pos- 
 sibility become a member of the Church of Rome. He takes 
 credit for having rescued a considerable number of persons 
 standing on the brink of the precipice from tumbling down. 
 But to introduce Popery into the Church of England is, I think, 
 a much greater evil than joining the Church of Rome. Adieu • 
 
304 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss Fenwick. 
 
 80 Russell Square, 6th March, 1843. 
 I have seen Mr. Faber here, — he is now at Oxford. He 
 desired his very best remembrance to his Rydal and Ambleside 
 friends, and especially named you. I got up a small dinner- 
 party ; being a little put to it whom to invite, as my connec- 
 tions do not lie among the apostles of religious persecution or 
 the Anglo-papistical Church. But I managed to bring together 
 a very small knot. And there was but one sentiment of great 
 liking towards him, in the four I asked to meet him. They con- 
 sisted of : — 
 
 1. A clergyman with Oxford propensities, and a worshipper 
 of the heathen Muses as well as the Christian graces, — [Har- 
 ness], 
 
 2. A Unitarian Puseyite, an odd combination, but a reality 
 notwithstanding, — [Hunter]. 
 
 3. A layman whose life is spent in making people iiappy, and 
 whose orthodoxy is therefore a j ust matter of suspicion ; but 
 he has no antipathies to make him insensible to the worth of 
 such a man as Faber, — [Kenyon]. 
 
 And, 4. A traveller in the East, who professes that among 
 the best practical Christians he has met with are the followers 
 of Mahomet, — [Fellows]. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 11th March, 1843. 
 
 By far the most interesting of my last week's adventures 
 has been the attending the first two lectures of Lyell on Geol- 
 ogy. He is a crack man^ you probably knov/. I am pro- 
 foundly ignorant of the subject, but, nevertheless, take a 
 strong interest in his lectures, which will be continued twice a 
 week till the 31st. They are rendered intelligible, even to me, 
 by the aid of prints, diagrams, and specimens. The one 
 thought which characterizes Lyell among the Geologists is 
 this : That the causes which have produced all the great revo- 
 lutions in the earth are in incessant operation. A pretty pros- 
 pect this ! But then the operation is not alarmingly rapid. 
 
 These speculations look back so many, many thousands of 
 years, that one cannot help asking, " How came man so late 
 • — only yesterday — into the field of existence % " 
 
1843] THE CHURCH ABOVE THE GOSPEL, 305 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 April 7, P. M , 1843. 
 It seems as if all the malignant passions of our nature are 
 now called into action by Church questions. Even doctrinal 
 points are thrown into the background, and only come into 
 play to strengthen a point of Church authority and discipline. 
 The advocates of the Church do not hesitate to affirm that its 
 existence as a body acting with power and authority is the 
 great argument for Christianity, and that without it the evi- 
 • dence for the truth of revelation would be altogether inade- 
 quate. This Coleridge maintained. It is a plausible position, 
 but a dangerous one, it must be owned. 
 
 I have just been looking over a book on Church discipline 
 which Archdeacon Wilberforce has published. Its object is to 
 show the necessity and duty of the state's abandoning all 
 legislating on Church matters, and restoring the Convocation ! 
 It is but fair to my venerable friend to tell you, that he is 
 willing to give up something for this ; that while he would 
 have the Church exercise the power of excommunication, he 
 quite approves of taking from that act all civil consequences 
 whatever. And this principle he consistently carries out by 
 avowing his approbation of the repeal of the Corporation and 
 Test Acts, inasmuch as those Acts led to a desecration of the 
 holy rite. So it is that extremes meet, and that we Non-cons 
 are in accord with the High Church divines. The great points 
 of High Church doctrine now urged with such vehemence are, 
 the Power of the Keys given to the Episcopal body, and 
 the exclusive power it possesses of bringing men within the 
 pale of Christianity by the sacrament of baptism, and keeping 
 them there by the administration of the sacrament. Even 
 the trinity, the atonement, and original sin are, compared with 
 those, pushed very much out of sight. Now, sad as such a 
 state of religion is, which makes of Christianity a sort of 
 animal magnetism, yet it is still, to my apprehension, less 
 frightful than Calvinism ; and I own I find much to admire, 
 and even to assent to, in the sermons of Newman on the na- 
 ture of belief, which Faber gave me. Newman, you know, is 
 the real head of this party ; hence Sydney Smith's joke, that 
 the doctrine should be called " Newmania ! " 
 
 H. C. R. ON Theological Polemics. 
 
 17th May, 1843. 
 I return you your book, which I have, in discharge of my 
 
 T 
 
306 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 promise, read with serious and painful interest. It is long 
 since I have fallen in with so stern — I had almost said so 
 fierce — a statement of high Calvinistic doctrines. The author 
 is a worthy descendant of the old Covenanters, a race of men 
 I have always looked up to with mingled reverence and fear. 
 I will not attempt to do so unprofitable an act as try to state 
 why I cannot concur in the doctrine so ably laid down. T am 
 both unable to do justice to the subject and unwilling to en- 
 danger the continuance of the kind feelings which induced you 
 to put the book into my hands ; but I will state vjhy I think it 
 inexpedient, generally speaking, to put works of such a. class 
 into the hands of those who are of an opposite opinion. After 
 a little consideration, and calling back to your mind how you 
 have been affected by controversial writings, perhaps you will 
 agree with me, that they for the most part seem composed to 
 deter the unstable from going over to the other party, rather 
 than to seduce and bring over the adversary. On the one they 
 operate like the positive pole of the magnet, on the other like 
 the negative. It attracts the one, it repels the other. 
 
 Suppose, for instance, that a believer in Calvinistic doctrines 
 should be disturbed by the strong declaration of so good a 
 man as Mr. Wilberforce, that he deemed them utterly anti- 
 scriptural, and by the avowed hostility of so large a propor- 
 tion of the Anglican bishops and clergy, — such a person would 
 be successfully met by a book like this. He would be told that 
 the hostile notions were " prompted by the enmity of fallen 
 men towards God " ; that these were the suggestions of the 
 " natural man," &c., &c. But the same line of argument, and 
 the very same texts, if directly addressed to the opponents, 
 would appear to them mere railing^ — a mere taking for granted 
 the thing to be proved. 
 
 There is another reason why a good polemical is a bad 
 didactic book. It is impossible not to distrust, 1 do not mean 
 the honesty of the writer, but the fairness and completeness of 
 his representation of the adversary's notions. You have oc- 
 casionally been in a court of justice, and may have heard a 
 speech on one side and not heard the other side ; and you may 
 have wondered how, after so plausible an argument, a verdict 
 should be given against the orator 
 
 There is one other sad, most sad, effect of such fierce con- 
 troversial writing, — it generates feelings of uncharitablenesa 
 among the disputants. They begin by pitying their adver- 
 saries ; with pity contempt is blended, and finally hatred, un- 
 
1843.] CONTROVERSIAL DIVINITY PROVOKES INFIDELITY. 307 
 
 less infinite pains be taken to avert so dreadful a result. Even 
 where this consequence does not follow, the very object of the 
 controversial writer, which is to make his opinions fully known, 
 leads him to conceal nothing ; but he brings prominently for- 
 ward the most offensive and repulsive particulars. I was for- 
 cibly reminded of this in the perusal of the present book. 
 We are told of certain doctrines being stumbling-blocks, and 
 of certain hard sayings, &c., &c. ; and we hear of strong meat 
 which is not fit for children's stomachs. Now it has seemed 
 to me as if the author of this book labored to pile up the 
 stumbling-blocks ; and yet I am sure he would not wish to 
 impede the progress of any one in the right path. This is 
 the natural effect of the polemical feeling; and, therefore, 
 such books are dangerous to two classes of readers. Persons 
 of weak nerves and timid, anxious natiu*es have been driven 
 into despair by such books, and they have destroyed them- 
 selves, or perished in a madhouse. Others, of little faith, 
 have lost that little, and been driven into infidelity. That 
 you had none but the kindest feelings in putting this book 
 into my hands I am well aware, and I have none but the 
 most respectful feelings towards you. I have confidence in 
 your benignity, or I should not have ventured to write to you 
 thus frankly. 
 
 March 19th. — Went to see dear Mary Lamb. But how 
 altered she is ! Deafness has succeeded to her other infirmities. 
 She is a mere wreck of herself. I took a single cup of tea with 
 her, to while away the time ; but I found it difficult to keep 
 up any conversation beyond the mere talking about our com- 
 mon acquaintance. 
 
 May 24th. — Looked over some letters of Coleridge to Mrs. 
 Clarkson. I make an extract from one of a part only of a 
 parenthesis, as characteristic of his involved style : " Each, 
 I say (for, in writing letters, I envy dear Southey's power of 
 saying one thing at a time, in short and close sentences, where- 
 as my thoughts bustle along like a Surinam toad, with little 
 toads sprouting out of back, side, and belly, vegetating while 
 it crawls), — each, I say, — " 
 
 Jiuie Jfth. — Breakfasted, by appointment, with Rogers ; 
 Thomas Moore was there. The elder poet was the greater 
 talker, but Moore made himself very agreeable. Rogers 
 showed him some MS. verses, rather sentimental, but good of 
 the kind, by Mrs. Butler. Moore began, but could not get on. 
 
308 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 He laid down the MS., and said he had a great dislike to the 
 reading of poetry. '^ You mean new," Rogers said. *' No, I 
 mean old. I have read very little poetry of any kind." 
 Rogers spoke very depreciatingly of the present writers. 
 Moore did not agi'ee. He assented to waiin praise of Tom 
 Hood by me, and declared him to be, as a punster, equal to 
 Swift. But the article (poetry) is become of less value, be- 
 cause of its being so common. There is too much of it. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Paris, 29th June, 1843. 
 I am quietly sinking into the old man, and comfortably at 
 the same time. I have told you the anecdote of Rogers's sol- 
 emnly giving me the advice (and it was just five years ago, and 
 here in Paris), " Let no one persuade you that you are grow- 
 ing old." And the advice is good for certain persons, and as a 
 guard against premature indolence, and a melancholy antici- 
 pation of old age. But it is equally wise and salutary to im- 
 press the counsel, "• Know in time that you are growing old." 
 I do know it ; and that the knowledge is wholesome is proved 
 by this, that I feel quite as happy as when I had all the con- 
 sciousness of youth and vigor. 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 Belle Isle, Windermere, July 23, 1843. 
 .... Miss Fen wick is more than a favorite with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wordsworth, and I do not think they can now live in 
 perfect ease without her. No wonder ; she is a trump. There 
 is more solid sense in union wuth genuine goodness in her than 
 goes to the composition of any hundred and fifty good and 
 
 sensible persons of every-day occurrence Mr. Wordsworth 
 
 ought to have been at Buckingham Palace, at the Queen's 
 Ball, for which he received a formal invitation : ** The Lord 
 Chamberlain presents his compliments. He is commanded by 
 her Majesty to invite Mr. William Wordsworth to a ball at 
 Buckingham Palace, on Monday, the 24th July, - — ten o'clock. 
 Full dress." To which he pleaded, as an apology for non-at- 
 tendance, the non-arrival of the invitation (query command'?) 
 in time. He dated his answer from this place, *^ The Island, 
 Windermere," and that would explain the impossibility ; for 
 the notice was the shortest possible, even if it had been re- 
 
1843.] QUILLINAN AND HIS LIBERAL ROMANISM. 309 
 
 ceived by first post. But a man in his seventy-fourth year 
 would, I suppose, be excused by Royalty for not travelling 300 
 miles to attend a dance, even if a longer notice had been given, 
 — though probably Mr. Wordsworth would have gone had he 
 had a fortnight to think of it, because the Laureate must pay 
 his personal respects to the Queen sooner or later ; and the 
 sooner the better, he thinks. I have been lately reading many 
 of the old New Year and Birthday Odes, and nothing struck 
 me so disagreeably as their idolatry. The Royal personage is 
 not panegyrized, but idolized : the monarch is not a king, but 
 a god. It has occurred to me that Mr. Wordsworth may, in 
 his own grand way, compose a hymn to or on the King of 
 kings, in rhymed verse, or blank, invoking a blessing on the 
 Queen and country, or giving thanks for blessings vouchsafed 
 and perils averted. This would be a new mode of dealing with 
 the office of Laureate, and would come with dignity and pro- 
 priety, I think, from a seer of Wordsworth's age and character. 
 I told him so ; and he made no observation. I therefore think 
 it likely that he may consider the suggestion ; but he certainly 
 will not, if he hears that anything of that sort is expected 
 from him. So do not mention it ; he may do nothing in any 
 case 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 The Island, Windermere, near Kendal, August 25, 1843. 
 Your letter, directed to Ambleside, would have come to me 
 through Bowness to-day, had I not chanced to pass through 
 Ambleside last evening, and to call at Mrs. Nicholson's, on my 
 w^ay to Rydal with my daughter, and a bride and bridegroom 
 (who were married only a week ago, near Dover, and have come 
 all this way on purpose to see us — not the lakes — previous 
 to their departure for India). They start for Marseilles next 
 week, go by steam to Alexandria, traverse the desert, &c. 
 The bride is a very handsome person of twenty. Well, I rowed 
 them yesterday to the Waterhead ; walked then to Rydal, get- 
 ting your letter by the way, and read your epistle, every word 
 of it, to Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, who were much pleased 
 by the first part, and not a little entertained with most of the 
 rest. Your friend, Mr. Paynter, I once breakfasted with at 
 your chambers in the Temple. Of Mr. Faber we have heard a 
 good deal. He has written several times to Miss Fenwick, and 
 the Benson Harrisons ; and the other day came a long yarn to 
 Mr. Carr, in Italian, from Naples, which Faber abuses as utterly 
 
310 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. IT. 
 
 uninteresting and detestable in climate, and far over-rated even 
 as to beauty and position, — the bay being a very fair bay, but 
 nothing incomparable ! He sighs for his Car a Roma, which he 
 left by medical advice, and so changed climate for the worse. 
 From his Cava Roina, the first letter he sent to Miss Fenwick 
 was dated Rome, and that one word was all the mention made 
 of Rome ; not another allusion to the Eternal City ; it might as 
 well have been penned from Geneva. But it was full of himself 
 and his religious enthusiasm, — for his parish in England. He, 
 however, got afterwards much among the cardinals, and seems 
 to have been all but converted to the true faith. This between 
 ourselves, and more of this hereafter : but he has rather retro- 
 graded ; the Devil pulled him back a step or two from the Pope, 
 and he stands again on the old new ground, if a man can be 
 said to stand on a quicksand. What say you, who stand on the 
 adamantine rock of d n, on the farther shore, the indisput- 
 able territory of his Satanic Majesty % There is a little Popery 
 for you, to pay you off for your heretical irreverence towards the 
 Infallible Pontiff.* 
 
 What do you mean by my fierce mention of Macaulay, you 
 Cross-Examiner of Gentleness 1 you Advocate of Paradox ! you 
 Gordian-knotter of Simplicities ! you Puzzler of Innocence ! 
 Or does my protesting against the moral character of Pope be- 
 ing placed in invidious comparison with Addison's imply " hate 
 of every one who differs in opinion '"? &c., &c.t ye Powers 
 of Justice, listen to this cruel libeller of my patient, placable 
 spirit ; I forgive him, but you cannot ! Your thunderbolts will 
 avenge me. I will not enter upon the comparative moral worth 
 of Pope and Addison. It is the very comparison by Mr. Ma- 
 caulay at this time of day, — the begging of so ugly a question, 
 — the lifting the skirts of one of his literary fathers, — that I 
 object to, — that I should consider even odious, if my tender 
 heart could, egg-like, be boiled hard. I will not reveal to you, 
 for you could not comprehend, my idolatry of Pope from my 
 boyhood, — I might almost say from my infancy ; for the first 
 book that ever threw me into a rapture of delight was Pope's 
 ^' Iliad." I loved " The Little Nightingale," '' The Great Alex- 
 ander," from that day, a'nd made everything concerning him 
 my study ; and I have never learned to unlove him, though 
 there is not, I believe, any published particular of his history, 
 
 * Mr. Qiiillinan belonged to the Cliurch of Rome. 
 
 t Vide article " LeigirHiuit," in Macaulay's Essays. Elsewhere Macaulay 
 speaks of " the little man of Twickenham " in a tone which would naturally 
 rouse tho ire of Pope's ardent admirers. 
 
1843.] MAC AULA Y'S CRITICISM ON POPE. 311 
 
 whether discussed by friend or foe, that I have not read. My 
 love of Pope was so notorious among my school-fellows, that 
 w^hen any malicious boy chose to put me into a fever for fun, he 
 would point his popgun at Pope. When Lisle Bowles made 
 money of Pope's brains, by publishing (in my boyhood) an 
 edition of him, in which he had the face to deny that Pope was 
 a poet of a high order, I thought the same Lisle a mean cox- 
 comb.^ I had been almost as much dissatisfied with Joseph 
 Warton for the first volume of his Essay ; but Dr. Joe's feeble 
 elegance as a versifier was in some sense explanatory of 
 his principles of taste, as well as of the mediocrity of his 
 own talents (for poetry). I had written " genius," but 
 thumbed it out, for he had none. My admiration of Pope, the 
 man, the son, the friend, as well as the poet, in no degree 
 diminished as I gTCw older, and is as vivid now^ as ever. The 
 living presence of Mr. Rogers at his breakfast-table hardly more 
 charms me than the Roubiliac bust, that is one of his precious 
 Lares Urhani. Eight or nine and twenty years ago, at Malvern, 
 I used often to visit the house of Sir Thomas Plomer's widow^, 
 in her absence, solely to gaze on an excellent original oil-portrait 
 of Pope, that hung in her drawing-room. Little more than 
 two years since, on the day before my marriage, the late Bishop 
 Baynes, at Prior Park, pleased me much by his civilities, but 
 most by showing me the little pencil sketch (often engraved) 
 taken by stealth in that very house when it was Allen's, as Pope 
 was standing talking carelessly, unconscious of the virtue that 
 was stolen from him to make a little bit of paper a venerated 
 relic. Pope, sir, taught me to read Montaigne, at an age when 
 I found much of the matter far more difficult to my compre- 
 hension than its antiquated vehicle. (By the by, that need not 
 deter any Englishman from making intimate acquaintance with 
 him, while there exists so capital a translation as Cotton's, with 
 copious notes.) Pope also taught me to read Chaacer and the 
 " Fairy Queen," not in his indecent juvenile imitations, which 
 I was unacquainted with in my youth, and would gladly cut 
 out now. All this, which I know is utterly unimportant to any 
 one but myself, I inflict upon your notice, that you may, in some 
 slight measiu*e, understand why I ought to hate Macaulay, or 
 any flippant, flashy, clever fellow who demeans his abilities to 
 the services of the Dunces in their w^ar against Pope. Why, 
 I ought to hate him (mind, I say), and should, but for the meek 
 
 * This edition of Pope by Bowles came into my hands while I Avas passing 
 my holidays at Mr. Abbott's, my father's partner, in Gov.-er Street, London; 
 then a new street. — E. Q. * 
 
312 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 milkiness of my nature. Pope's character is as sacred to my 
 estimation as the best and wholesomest fruit of his genius ; 
 both his moral worth and hterary merit are bright enough to 
 make me blink at his faults. His nature was generous. If, 
 through " that long disease, his life," he was often more impa- 
 tient of flies than a philosophical Brahmin, who can wonder if 
 his high-bred Pegasus was impatient of them too, and flapped 
 them down with his tail by dozens 1 What do you think his 
 tail was given him for, if not to flap away the flies ] That so 
 sweet a bee as Addison, a honey-maker, whose Hybla murmurs 
 are fit music for the gods, should have come in for a whisk of 
 that formidable tail is lamentable ; but why, then, did he in- 
 sinuate his subtle sting into the fine flank of the soaring 
 steed 1 "If you scratch not the Pope, you may fairly and 
 brawly claw Brother Addison, Statesman Macaulay." (By the 
 by, though there cannot be a greater contrast in style than 
 between Macaulay's and Addison's, for Mr. Macaulay's is fussy 
 and ambitious, I did and do very much admire his notice of the 
 " Life of Lord Clive." He put more true and genuine stuff", I 
 think, into those few pages, than was contained in the whole 
 work that suggested the essay.) I cut out of the John Bull a 
 letter which I have this moment fallen upon by chance. On 
 Thursday last, the day after I had written to you, two letters 
 came, one from Elton, the other from Brigham ; the first alarm- 
 ing Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, who were with us, as to the 
 state of Miss Hutchinson ; the second, a summons for Dora. 
 These disconcerted our plan of going to the Duddon, &c. Pro- 
 fessor Wilson, and his daughter, Miss Wilson, dined with us on 
 that day, and we found them very agreeable company ; but the 
 cheerfulness of the Professor, I fear, is rather assumed. I 
 understand that he has never recovered the shock of his wife's 
 death. He was in this country a few days only. He is no 
 Bacchanalian now, if he ever were so. He drinks no wine, nor 
 spirits, nor even beer, — nothing but water or tea or coffee. 
 Both Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth were very glad to meet so old 
 a friend. Mrs. Wordsworth has always been an admirer and 
 lover of Wilson. Don't be jealous ; her husband is not. On 
 Friday, Mr. Wordsworth accompanied Dora and me by water 
 to Low Wood, whence Dora went to Rydal in a car, and thence 
 to Brigham with James, in her father's phaeton. She went to 
 take care of her brother's children, according to promise, while 
 John and his wife are absent, or such part of the time as may 
 be arranged. Very inconvenient and desolate for me is her 
 
1843.] POPE'S PLACE AMONG THE POETS. — RANKE. 313 
 
 absence, but it was a duty that called her away. Had she 
 been here, I should have thought I could not find time to write 
 you such a ^' lengthy " prose. 
 
 H. C. E. TO QUILLINAN. 
 
 August 30, 1843. 
 
 Your last very entertaining letter reached me just as 
 I was in the act of nibbing my pen to write to Mrs. Words- 
 worth 
 
 You have amply apologized for the seemingly contemptuous 
 language you used towards a man who is on no account to be 
 despised. If he has wounded you in your hobby, you have a 
 right to your revenge, and I allow it to you ; only, feel the 
 truth of Montaigne's ftne saying, and keep within bounds. I 
 want no more. 
 
 After all. Pope is, or rather was, as great a favorite with me 
 as any one English poet. Perhaps I once knew more of him 
 than of any other English classic. 
 
 Referring to an early period of my life, before I had heard 
 of the Lyrical Ballads, which caused a little revolution in my 
 taste for poetry, there were four poems which I used to read 
 incessantly ; I cannot say which I then read the oftenest, or 
 loved the most. They are of a very different kind, and I 
 mention them to show that my taste was wide. They were 
 " The Rape of the Lock," " Comus," " The Castle of Indo- 
 lence," and the " Traveller." Next to these were all the Ethic 
 Epistles of Pope ; and with respect to all these, they were so 
 familiar to me, that I never for years looked into them, — I 
 seemed to know them by heart. I ought, perhaps, to be 
 ashamed to confess that at that period I was much better ac- 
 quainted with the Rambler than the Spectator. But warm 
 admiration of Johnson has been followed by almost disgust, 
 which does not extend to the Johnson of Boswell. 
 
 But I must not forget to say what I wanted to hear from 
 Mrs. Wordsworth, and which in fact you will be able to tell 
 me quite as well as she can, though neither of you can do 
 more than state an intention and a probability. When are 
 the Wordsworths likely to be again at Rydal ^ I have been 
 asked by two persons to make the inquiry. One of these 
 is a man of some rank in the world of German literature, — 
 Ranke, the historian. It is a proof of eminence, certainly, 
 that one of his great works, the " History of the Popes," has 
 
 VOL. II. 14 
 
314 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17, 
 
 been twice translated into English, and one of the translations 
 (Mrs. Austin's) has gone into a second edition ; and yet this 
 popularity has not been obtained by any vulgar declamation. 
 He is a cool thinker, and much more temperate 'than religion- 
 ists like writers to be. I find, on chatting with him, that he 
 is seriously an alarmist on the occasion of the progress of the 
 Papal power ; but it is rather a secular than a spiritual 
 feeling. It is not from a fear that the Protestant religion 
 would be undermined, so much as that the Protestant states 
 would be disturbed by the usurpation of the priestly au- 
 thority 
 
 Your account of a tour to the Duddon quite fidgets me. 
 Do you know I have never seen the Duddon 1 Another 
 fidgets-producing thought is, that of Wordsworth making a 
 tour in Wales. My first journey was in that country ; I must 
 go again, for I had not then learned to see. I fear I have not 
 learned yet ; but I have learned to enjoy, which I know on 
 the highest authority is better than understanding. 
 
 To go back to Macaulay. Of course you have read his arti- 
 cle on the very book of Ranke I have been writing of 1 There 
 is one passage not above a page in length, which I have among 
 my papers, and will send you if you are not already familiar 
 with it. It begins with the remark (I quote from memory), 
 that the Church of Eome alone knows how to make use of 
 fanatics whom the Church of England proudly and foolishly 
 repels ; and he concludes with a sarcastic summary. In Rome, 
 John Wesley would have been Loyola ; Joanna Southcott, Saint 
 Theresa ; Lady Huntingdon would have been the foundress of 
 a new order of Carmelites ; and Mrs. Fry presided over the 
 " Sisters of the Jails." .... 
 
 I must own, how^ever, that in this very article Macaulay con- 
 trived to offend all parties, — Romanist, Anglican, and Gene- 
 van : a proof of his impartiality at least. 
 
 Thanks for your account of Faber ; it amuses me much. 
 But what right has he to abuse the seco7id city in Italy *? Cer- 
 tainly not more than Macaulay has to fall foul of one who, you 
 will acknowledge, is far from being the second poet of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 But Naples is an uncomfortable place, with all your admira- 
 tion of it ; you never feel at home in it ; the sensations it 
 produces are all centrifugal, not centripetal. 
 
 There is no accounting for the accidental feelings of men ; 
 Herder, a great thinker, as well as a pre-eminently pious and 
 
 I 
 
1843.] MARTINEAU'S SERMONS. 3l5 
 
 devout man, and no contemptible poet, could not be made to 
 
 love Rome, but wished to live and die in Naples If I 
 
 have a pet in the South, it is Sicily. To speak again of Faber, 
 and the like, I never feared that they would go over to the 
 Church of Rome, but that they would do a much worse thing, — 
 brino- over the Church of Rome, or rather the Papacy, into 
 England's Church ; import all its tyranny and its spirit of per- 
 secution, and, without the merit of consistency, claim the 
 same prerogatives. The Archbishop of Dublin (Whately) said 
 to a friend of mine, '' If I must have a Pope, I would rather 
 have a Pope at Rome than at Oxford " ; and I heartily join in 
 this 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 The Island, Windermere, September 1, 1843. 
 
 .... You may propose a Welsh tour to Mr. Wordsworth. 
 He is so fond of travelling with you that I dare say, once at 
 Brinsop, he would say " Done ! " to your offer. Dora is at 
 Rydal now. Jemima, Rotha, and I go on Saturday next ; and 
 very reluctantly shall I leave this perfect island, — I mean this 
 island' that has no imperfections about or on it except our- 
 selves. Even Rydal Mount is not so charming a '' locality," 
 as the Yankees say j and the house here is excellent, — a 
 mansion 
 
 Any friend of yours travelling in these regions, who, in the 
 absence of the poet, considers it worth his while to look at his 
 house and haunts, will be received with all kindness by the 
 poet's daughter, for your sake ; " a man of Ranke," — your 
 pun, not mine, sir, — like the historian of the Popes, for his 
 own sake, as well as yours. But he will scarcely climb the hill 
 to look at the nest among the laurel-bushes whence the bird is 
 flown. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Athen^cm, 9th September, 1843. 
 .... I am glad you have mentioned as you did Martineau's 
 Sermons. They delight me much ; we seem to entertain pre- 
 cisely the same opinions of them. In consequence of your 
 praise, I read out of their turn the two on the " Kingdom of 
 God within us." They fully deserve your eulogy. If possible, 
 there is another still better, at least it has more original and 
 striking thoughts ; it is VII., '' Religion on False Pretences*.'* 
 Page 94 is especially noticeable. What a crushing remark is 
 
316 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17 
 
 that founded on the difference between restraining others and 
 self-submission I Equally significant is p. 98, its comforts of 
 
 religion, and " insurance speculations," on God's service 
 
 In p. 99, Martineau must have thought of Brougham, per- 
 haps unconsciously ; of whom else could strange gambols have 
 been written'? The Economists get a rap on the knuckles in 
 the same page. 
 
 Sermon III. begins : ** Every fiction that has ever laid 
 strong hold on human belief is the mistaken image of some 
 great truth, to which reason will direct its search, while half- 
 reason is content with laughing at the superstition, and un- 
 reason with disbelieving it." I have been in the habit of say- 
 ing, and I dare say I have written to you, " When errors 
 make way in the world, it is by virtue of the truths mixed up 
 with them." The interpretation of the doctrine of incarnation, 
 which follows (p. 33), is in the same spirit, and most excellent. 
 .... I was not aware that John Wesley had ever said any- 
 thing so bold as your quoted words, that "' Calvin's God was 
 worse than his Devil." .... 
 
 In the yesterday's papers there was a long account of a very 
 excellent and eminent person, with whom I lately became ac- 
 quainted. Canon Tate, — a very liberal clergyman. He was a 
 residentiary of St. Paul's, a great scholar, and a zealous abo- 
 litionist. He professed great esteem for Mr. Clarkson. By 
 the by, that reminds me that I have made a purchase of a 
 portrait of our old friend, which I believe is an original, — a 
 repetition of the one now at Playford, and which was engraved 
 in aquatint in 1785. It was taken when he was in his work, 
 and therefore will be to posterity more valuable than the por- 
 trait of him in old age. I gave <£ 10 for it.* I do hope you 
 will come and see it this autumn 
 
 H. C. K. TO T. R. 
 
 15th September, 1843. 
 
 Miss Aikin gave me a little MS. poem, by Mrs. Barbauld, in 
 answer to one by Hannah More. It is a severe attack on the 
 Bishops. Hannah More had, in Bonner's name, affected to 
 abuse the Bishops for no longer persecuting heretics. ^* Much 
 thanks for little," say the Bishops, in this their answer to 
 Bishop Bonner ; " we would if we could." The following 
 stanzas contain the pith of the whole : — 
 
 * Bequeathed by H. C. R. to tlie^ National Portrait Gallery. 
 
1843 J A POEM BY MRS. BARBAULD. 317 
 
 1. 
 
 'T is not to us should be addressed 
 
 Your ghostly exhortation ; 
 If heresy stilllift her crest, 
 
 The fault is in the nation. 
 
 The State, in spite of all our pains, 
 
 Has left us in the lurch; 
 The spirit of the times restrains 
 
 The spirit of the Church. 
 
 3. 
 
 Our spleen against reforming cries 
 
 Is now, as ever, shown ; 
 Though we can't blind the nation's eyes. 
 
 Still we may shut our own. 
 
 4. 
 
 Well warned from what abroad befalls. 
 
 We keep all light at home ; 
 Nor brush one cobweb from St. Paul's, 
 
 Lest it should shake the dome. 
 
 5. . 
 
 Would it but please the civil weal 
 
 To lift again the crosier, 
 We soon would make those yokes of steel 
 
 Which now are bands of osier. 
 
 6. 
 
 Church maxims do not greatly vary, 
 
 Take it upon my honor ; 
 Place on the throne another Mary, 
 
 We '11 find her soon a Bonner. 
 
 I took advantage of the day to call on , a very religions 
 
 person, who invites me, though she must hold me to be a sus- 
 picious character at least. But she was evidently pleased with 
 the attention. I have long remarked that the saints are well 
 pleased to be noticed by the sinners. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Wordsworth. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 24th October, 1843, ~: 
 .... I met yesterday Strickland Cookson, who informed 
 me of the sudden death of Jane, — a new and very serious 
 calamity. The death of an old and attached servant of her 
 description is one of a very serious character indeed, and I 
 fear, in a degree, irreparable. It shows the vaaiity of our 
 
818 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 artificial classifications of society. How indignant you would 
 feel were any one to say, by way of consolation or remark on 
 your sorrow, that she was only your servant ! 
 
 You have been sadly and often tried of late. Let us hope 
 that you will, for a time, be spared any fresh attack on your 
 spirits and domestic comfort. 
 
 You are not, you cannot be, so selfish as not, amid your own 
 sorrow, to be pleased to hear good news of your friends. I 
 was yesterday startled by a letter from my brother, announ- 
 cing his mtention to come up to London next Monday. This 
 is a better proof of the state of his health than a doctor's cer- 
 tificate. He cannot travel without his servant, and that ser- 
 vant has been taken ill. But the illness is not thought to be 
 serious. The loss of his Edward would be to him what the 
 loss of your Jane is to you. These constantly occurring events 
 make me feel so insecure, that I am habitually making that 
 reservation to myself which, as a mere form of words, has be- 
 come almost ridiculous, in the shape of a ^'Deo volente." But 
 so it is ; the veriest of forms originate in earnest feelings. 
 Only one cannot always tell when the sentiment degenerates 
 into the form ; and, what is worse, the form is apt to become 
 the hypocritical substitute for the feeling. But, as Mr. Words- 
 worth exclaims in his part of your letter, " Such is poor hu- 
 man nature !".... 
 
 November 18ih. — An idle day. Continued reading, as usual, 
 and took a short walk with Mayer, and another with my 
 brother. The single incident was dining with Miss Meredith, 
 at Miss Coutts's." There I met Charles Young, who made 
 himself very agreeable. He has great comic talent ; took ofl^ 
 Scotchmen admirably ; and told anecdotes of the actors of his 
 day with great spirit. I found that we agreed on all matters 
 of taste as to the Drama, — Mrs. Siddons, Kemble, Kean, 
 Miss O'Neil, &c., &c., — no difference whatever. The conver- 
 sation was very lively. Miss Costello also there. With her I 
 chatted pleasantly enough about France ; but she rather ex- 
 pects too much, for she wants us to read all her writings, — 
 novels and travels. 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. H. 
 
 Ambleside (Saturday night), December 9, 1843. 
 .... I have been dining at Rydal, after walking about a 
 considerable part 6f the morning, through the waters and the 
 
1843.] "LIFE IN THE SICK-ROOM." 319 
 
 mists, with the Bard, who seems to defy all weathers, and who 
 called this a beautiful, soft, solemn day ; and so it was, though 
 somewhat insidiously soft, for a mackintosh was hardly proof 
 against its insinuations. He is in great force, and in great vigor 
 of mind. He has just completed an epitaph on Southey, writ- 
 ten at the request of a committee at Keswick, for Crosthwaite 
 Church. I think it will please you. 
 
 They, — all the Rydalites, — Mr. Wordsworth, Mrs. Words- 
 worth, and Miss Fenwick, have been quite charmed, affected, 
 and instructed by the Invalid's volume, sent down by Moxon, 
 who kept his secret like a man. But a woman found it out, 
 for all tlmt, — found you out, Mr. Sly-boots ! Mrs. Wordsworth, 
 after a few pages were read, at once pronounced it to be Miss 
 Martineau's production ] and concluded that you knew all 
 about it, and caused it to be sent hither. In some of its most 
 eloquent parts it stops short of their wishes and expectations ; 
 but they all agree that it is a rare hook, doing honor to the 
 head and heart of your able and interesting friend. Mr. Words- 
 worth praised it with more unreserve — I may say, with more 
 earnestness — than is usual with him. The serene and heaven- 
 ly minded Miss Fenwick was prodigal of her admiration. But 
 Mrs. Wordsworth's was the crowning praise. She said, — and 
 you know how she would say it, — "I wish I had read exact- 
 ly such a book as that years ago ! " 
 
 I ought to add, that they had not finished the volume, — 
 had only got about half through it, — as many interruptions 
 occur, and they like to read it together ; one, of course, read- 
 ing aloud to the rest. It is a genuine and touching series of 
 meditations by an invalid, not sick in mind or heart ; and 
 such, they doubt not, they will find it to the end. When I 
 said all the Rydalites, I ought to have excepted poor dear Miss 
 Wordsworth, who could not bear sustained attention to any 
 book, but who would be quite capable of appreciating a little 
 at a time. .... 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell. Square, 9th December. 1843. 
 
 .... I receive your congratulations about my University 
 College occupations as you offer them. It is a satisfaction to 
 me that I am conscious of growing more sympathetic, instead 
 of becoming more selfish, as I grow older. And this is a happv 
 circumstance, for what otherwise would life be ] You have 
 
320 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 heard me quote a fine motto by Goethe to one of the volumes 
 of his Life : " What in youth we long for, we have plenty of 
 in old age " ; and he explains this by the remark in the vol- 
 ume, that in his youth he loved Gothic architecture, and stood 
 alone in that taste. In the advance of life he found the rising 
 generation had the start of him. ^^ So it would always be if 
 we attached ourselves to objects -wTiselfish, and which concern 
 society at large. We should then never be disappointed 
 
 I have had a most interesting letter from Harriet Martineau, 
 which I mean to send you next week She has pub- 
 lished anonymously a most admirable book, " Life in the Sick- 
 Room." I mean to bring it with me when I come down next. 
 It unfolds the feelings of those who are condemned to a long 
 seclusion from the world by sickness. It does not apply to 
 persons who, like you, have had sharp but short diseases. 
 Nevertheless, it will excite you to comparisons between your- 
 self and her. It has me, I am conscious. 
 
 I have seen Miss Weston again. She inquires very kindly 
 after you. She is living in St. John's Wood 
 
 Have you not remarked how much the style of the Times is 
 changed now from what it was 1 One no longer sees those fierce 
 declamations which caused Stoddart to get the name of Doctor 
 Slop, and the paper the title of The Thunderer. It has become 
 mild, argumentative, and discriminating. I wrote lately to Wal- 
 ter, to tell him that I thought the paper better than it has been 
 ever since I have known it, that is, thirty-six years. He has 
 thanked me most warmly for my encouragement and commenda- 
 tion 
 
 Rem.* — I made a visit to Rydal Mount this year. It was 
 uneventful, with one exception. Lodgings were taken for me 
 in a neat cottage, where an old man and his wife lived. On the 
 very first night, December 24th, just as I was on the point of 
 getting into bed, I missed a volume I had been reading. I 
 stepped to the landing-place to call to Mrs. Steele, when, being 
 in the dark, I slipped down the stairs. I had a severe blow on 
 the left side ; then I fell head-foremost, and rolled down several 
 stairs. I was stopped by two severe concussions, — one on my 
 left shoulder, the other on my heart, or as near as may be to it. 
 The good old couple were too much frightened to render me any 
 assistance. I was in severe pain, and, they say, as pale as death. 
 I managed, however, to get up to my bed, and would not allow 
 
 * Written in 1859. 
 
1844.] H. C. R. NURSED AT RYDAL. 321 
 
 any message to be sent to the Mount. I had a light in my room, 
 and passed a night of pain and watchfulness. 
 
 December 25th. — I sent for James early ; he came, gave notice 
 tp Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth, and they followed soon. I had 
 from them every consolation that friendship and kindness can 
 administer. They had sent for Mr. Fell, and with him came 
 Dr. Davy (the brother of Sir Humphry, and son-in-law of Mrs. 
 Fletcher), who was by accident with him. Mr. Fell felt my 
 body, and declared there was nothing broken. That may be, 
 but I am by no means sure that I have not received a very seri- 
 ous injury. I had a call from Quillinan in the evening, as well 
 as several from Wordsworth. My second night was not better 
 than my first, except that, by James's aid, I managed to have 
 my pillows laid more comfortably. 
 
 December 26th. — In the forenoon Mr. Fell came again, and 
 he induced me to allow James to dress me, and then I was put 
 into Miss Wordsworth's carriage, and drawn up to the Mount. 
 A room was given me adjoining James's sleeping-place. He is 
 an excellent nurse, and here I have felt myself infinitely more 
 comfortable than in the cottage, where the kind-hearted but 
 feeble old couple only made me more sensible of my own help- 
 lessness. During the day I have found it difficult to talk. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wordsworth have therefore been short in their visits. 
 I have learnt the practical meaning of what hitherto has been 
 only a phrase, — - smoothing the pillow. He who does it as James 
 does is a benefactor. 
 
 December 30th, — This was, comparatively, a busy day. I 
 had calls in my room from Miss Fenwick, then from Mrs. Quil- 
 linan, and Mrs. and Miss Fletcher ; and, in the evening, hear- 
 ing that Mrs. Arnold was below, I got James to dress me, and 
 surprised them at their tea. I was cordially greeted, and in ex- 
 cellent spirits.* 
 
 1844. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Rydal Mount, 19th January, 1844, 3 a. m. 
 
 I must tell you something about James. He is forty-five 
 
 years of age, and is really a sort of model servant for a country 
 
 situation like this, as he is very religious and moral, as well as 
 
 an excellent servant (Wordsworth's man-servant). He is a great 
 
 * H. C. R. did not continue his " Reminiscences " beyond this year; but he 
 wrote a Diary till within a few days of his death. 
 14* 
 
322 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 favorite with the family, and will, I dare say, never leave them. 
 He told me his history. He was brought up in a workhouse^ 
 and at nine years of age was turned out of the house with two 
 shillings in his pocket. When without a sixpence, he was 
 picked up by a farmer, who took him into his service on condi- 
 tion that all his clothes should be burnt (they were so filthy), 
 and he was to pay for his new clothes out of his wages of two 
 pounds ten shillings per annum. Here he stayed as long as he 
 w^as wanted. ^' I have been so lucky ^^^ said James, " that I was 
 never out of place a day in my life, for I was always taken into 
 service immediately. I never got into a scrape, or was drunk 
 in my life, for I never taste any liquor. 80 that I have often 
 said, I consider myself as a favorite of fortune ! ! I " This is 
 equal to Goldsmith's cripple in the Park, who remarks of his 
 own state, — you will recollect what it was, — *' 'T is not every 
 man that can be bom with a golden spoon in his mouth." But 
 James has acquired his golden spoon. He has saved up £150, 
 which he has invested in railroad shares. He can both read 
 and wTite, plays on the accordion, sings, has a taste for draw- 
 ing, paints Easter eggs with great taste, and is a very respect- 
 able tailor. "I never loved company," said James, "and I 
 cannot be idle ; so I am always doing something." He is not 
 literate, though he can read and write, for he seems hardly to 
 know that he is in the service of a poet though he must know 
 something of song- writing.* 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R 
 
 Ambleside. March 19, 1844. 
 I am going to write you a short letter about nothing for Mrs. 
 Wordsworth, who has it on her conscience that she has not lately 
 written to you, though she has nothing to say except what you 
 know, that a letter from you is one of the most acceptable things 
 her post-bag ever contains. How are you and your brother ] 
 Both well, we hope ; and we never fancy you quite well when 
 your brother is otherwise. We have had a roaring storm of 
 wind here, which lasted two or three days, and did mischief 
 among trees, but most at Eydal Mount. The two largest of 
 those fine old cherry-trees on the terrace, nearest the house, 
 were uprooted, and spread their length over the wall and 
 
 * When I took leave of him on this visit, I hung round his neck a sflver 
 watch. He was so surprised that he was literally unable to thank me. — 
 H. C. R. 
 
1844.] QUILLINAN'S LETTER. 323 
 
 orchard as far the kitchen-garden ; two fir-trees also, both orna- 
 mental from theu' position, and one especially so from its 
 double stem, have been laid prostrate. With proper applian- 
 ces, these might be set up again, but the expense here and in- 
 convenience would be gxeater than the annoyance of their re- 
 moval. Such losses will sound trivial at a distance, but they 
 are felt at home. Those cherry-trees were old servants and 
 companions. Dora and the birds used (in her younger days) to 
 perch together on the boughs for the fruit Mr. Words- 
 worth has been working very hard lately, to very little purpose, 
 to mend the versification of " The Excursion," with some parts 
 of which he is dissatisfied, and no doubt justly ; but to mend it 
 without losing more, in the freshness and the force of expres- 
 sion, than he will gain in variety of cadence, is, in most cases, 
 I beUeve, impracticable. It will do, in spite of my Lord Jeffrey 
 and its occasional defects in metrical construction, &c. 
 
 QUILUNAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 Ambleside, April 7, 1844. 
 .... As to Article 3 in the Prospective Review on '' Ves- 
 tiges of the Natural History of Creation," it is about as bad as 
 the wretched book itself I wish wicked people (like you) 
 were not so clever, or clever people (like you) were not so 
 wicked. That volume of '* Thoughts on the Vestiges of Crea- 
 tion " is a book of hypotheses grounded mainly on the modern 
 discoveries in geology ; a grand and solid foundation, on which 
 free-thinkers build nebulous towers that reach the skies, and 
 from those airy observatories pry into the Holy of Holies, pe- 
 ruse the inner mind of the Almighty, and look down with pity 
 on the ignorant ni altitudes who have nothing to help them in 
 their heavenward aspirations but blind faith in the truths of 
 revealed religion. " Leave me, leave me to repose ! " 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 14th July, 1844. 
 .... Dr. Arnold's " Life " Mrs. Wordsworth has read dili- 
 gently. The first volume she read aloud to me, and I have 
 more than skimmed the second. He was a truly good man ; 
 of too ardent a mind, however, to be always judicious on the 
 gTcat points of secular and ecclesiastical polity that occupied 
 his mind, and upon which he often wrote and acted under 
 
324 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 strong prejudices and with hazardous confidence. But the 
 book, notwithstanding these objections, must do good, and 
 great good. His benevolence was so earnest, his hfe so indus- 
 trious, his affections, domestic and social, so intense, his faith 
 so warm and firm, and his endeavor to regulate his life by it so 
 constant, that his example cannot but be beneficial, even in 
 quarters where his opinions may be most disliked. How he 
 hated sin, and loved and thirsted after holiness ! that on 
 this path he were universally followed ! . . . . 
 
 Augicst 28th. — (Bury.) Began a task which I set myself 
 for my Bury visit, — that of looking over a few years' letters. 
 I find difiiculty in determining which I should preserve, and 
 which destroy. Sometimes the friend is dead, and sometimes 
 the friendship. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Wordsworth. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 18th September, 1844. 
 
 .... My month there (at Bury) was broken in upon by a 
 short visit to Playford, Yarmouth, and Norwich. Old Clark- 
 son is really a wonderful creature, were he only contemplated 
 as an animal. There he is, in his eighty-fifth year, as labori- 
 ous and calmly strenuous in his pursuits as he was fifty or 
 sixty years ago. By the by, I am afraid I am writing non- 
 sense ; for this is not an animal habit or quality. I meant to 
 refer to that strength of bodily constitution, without which 
 all the powers of the mind are insufiicient to produce the 
 effects by which a great mind or character is known. I have 
 often applied this remark to your husband, in connection with 
 another, — that I believe all the first-rate geniuses in poetry, 
 the fine arts, &c., &c., have been strong and healthy, and 
 might have been good laborers ; while it is only the second- 
 rate geniuses who are cripples, or deformed, or defective in 
 their bodily qualities. What a digression this is ! You '11 
 think I can have nothing to say. However, to go on : Clarkson 
 was busy during the three days I was there, writing letters 
 assiduously both to private friends and for the press, and all 
 for his " Africans." He is happy in this, that he cannot see 
 difficulties, or dangers, or doubts in any interest he has em- 
 braced, or in any act he has to do. No one ever more faith- 
 fully discharged the duty of hoping which the poet has laid 
 down. He does not believe that Texas will be united to the 
 
 I. 
 
1844.] ARCHiEOLOGlCAL ASSOCIATION. 325 
 
 States. He will not see that France and America are doing 
 all in their power to get rid of their reciprocal obligations to 
 annul the slave-trade. However difficult the hill may be to 
 climb, he toils on, and has no doubt of reaching the summit. 
 
 I returned to London on the 4th of this month, and was 
 very soon pressed to join the British Archseological Associa- 
 tion, which was to hold its first solemn meeting or sitting at 
 Canterbury on the 9th. What a pity it is, that I cannot tell 
 whether you, in fact, know anything about this learned body 
 or not, or whether you in yom-, be it ignorance, or be it knowl- 
 edge, care anything about it or not. You know, that is, you 
 will in a second, that this is an imitation of the Scientific Asso- 
 ciation, which, in defiance of the penal statutes against va- 
 grants, goes from place to place annually, haunting the great 
 towns successively, and inflicting on the inhabitants tremen- 
 dous long speeches — or rather papers, worse than speeches — 
 on matters appertaining to Natural History and Science. The 
 Antiquaries, on the other hand, discourse on antiquities ; and 
 their journeys will have a local propriety or object, because 
 the Association assembles for the purpose of investigating the 
 antiquities of the spot. They began very wisely with Canter- 
 bury, for this city and its immediate vicinity abound in almost 
 every variety of antiquity ; and the Association had the cordial 
 co-operation of all the local authorities. The Dean and Chap- 
 ter opened their cathedral to us without any restriction, — an 
 act that had never been done before ; and every part of that 
 glorious structure was open to the freest inspection, without 
 the annoying fee-exacting companionship of verger or attend- 
 ant, male or female. The Mayor, in one of his speeches in 
 public, declared that there are thousands of the citizens of 
 Canterbury who have never seen the interior of the Cloisters. 
 A change, there is no doubt, will now take place. I never 
 saw any religious edifice to so great an advantage before. In 
 every part it is a marvellous building. 
 
 On the second day we made a sort of supplemental pil- 
 grimage. We explored barrows at two places, — one in Bourne 
 Park, the seat of our President, Lord Albert Conyngham, who 
 very hospitably entertained us at his mansion. I had now — 
 what in one's seventieth year is not to be lightly prized — new 
 impressions. Some half dozen barrows were opened, and 
 most of them were productive. Standing round the diggers 
 
.326 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 17. 
 
 into the chalk soil, my attention was revived by a cry, — 
 '^ Take care ! there 's something." I looked and distinguished 
 a reddish spot in the chalk. The operator very carefully dug 
 with his fingers all around, and shortly brought up a whole 
 urn, filled, as such are, really^ with ashes and bones. There 
 had been before picked up teeth, fragments of glass, probably 
 lachrymals, bits of metal which the learned alone can properly 
 describe or even name. 
 
 Another barrow revealed to us a skeleton lying on its 
 back. 
 
 Among our leaders at this meeting was an old acquaintance 
 of yours, the Dean of Hereford. He presided over this very 
 class of what is called the ^'Primeval Section," and finding 
 that he was going to preside on one of the mornings, I be- 
 thought myself that I might contribute to the enjoyment of 
 the audience, in the degree of their accessibility to such impres- 
 sions. I wrote down from memory one of my favorite sonnets, 
 
 " How profitless the relics that we cull,'* 
 
 and took it to him. He heartily thanked me for it, and read 
 it with effect. 
 
 On the Thiu-sday I accompanied a select party, led by Lord 
 A. C, to look oyer the Castle of Dover, where we were ad- 
 mitted into the recesses of that living fortification (most of 
 such buildings are mere antiquities) by the governor, w^ho 
 feted us into the bargain. 
 
 The entertainment of another day consisted, among other 
 things, in the unrolling of a mummy, — so that you will allow 
 there was no want of a variety of objects to interest us ; and we 
 had a number of pleasant men. Dr. Buckland combines so much 
 good-humor with his zeal, and mixes his geological with his 
 antiquarian researches with so equal an interest, as to be quite 
 unique among scholars and men of science. The whole went 
 off very pleasantly, and I have no doubt wherever we go we 
 shall spread the love of antiquities. 
 
 Barron Field to H. C. E. 
 
 Mead FOOT House, Torquay, 21st October, 1844. 
 
 You do me no more than justice in saying that I shall not be 
 
 unhappy by being left without interruption to my books. I 
 
 have here, for the first time, got my portion of my father's 
 
 library, who was deacon of an Independent church, and am 
 
1844.] BARRON FIELD. — ROGERS'S BANK ROBBED. 327 
 
 devouring Baxter's ^' Life and Times." What a liberal though 
 orthodox Christian was he ! Why was not the Church re- 
 formed by him and the rest of the London ministers at the 
 Restoration'? Nothing has been done since, for now nearly 
 two hundred years. What a noble passage is the following 1 
 — " Therefore, I would have had the brethren to have offered 
 the Parliament the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Dec- 
 alogue alone as our essentials or fundamentals, which at least 
 contain all that is necessary to salvation, and hath been by all 
 the ancient churches taken for the sum of their religion. And 
 whereas they still said, ' A Socinian or a Papist will subscribe 
 all this,' I answered them, * So much the better, and so much 
 the fitter it is to be the matter of our concord. /But if you 
 are afraid of communion with Papists and Socinians, it must 
 not be avoided by making a new rule or test of faith which 
 they will not subscribe to, or by forcing others to subscribe to 
 more than theT/ can do, but by calling them to account when- 
 ever in preaching or writing they contradict or abuse the 
 truth to which they have subscribed. This is the work of 
 government, and we must not think to make laws serve in- 
 stead of judgment and execution ; nor must we make new 
 laws as often as heretics will misinterpret and subscribe the 
 old ; for, when you have put in all the words you can devise, 
 some heretics will put their own sense on them, and subscribe 
 them. And we must not blame God for not making a law 
 that no man can misinterpret or break, and think to make 
 such a one ourselves, because God could not or would not. 
 These presumptions and errors have divided and distracted the 
 Christian Church, and one would think experience should save 
 us from them.' " 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Wordsworth. 
 
 November 30, 1844. 
 
 Rogers said after his loss : * '^ I should be ashamed of myself 
 if I were unable to bear a shock like this at my age. It 
 would be an amusement to me to see on how little I could 
 live, if it were necessary. But I shall not be put to the ex- 
 periment. Let the worst come, w^e shall not be ruined." 
 
 [In a letter written about the same time, H. C. R. says :] 
 " Rogers loves children, and is fond of the society of young 
 people. ' When I am old and bedridden,' he says, ' I 
 shall be read to by young people, — Walter Scott's novels, 
 perhaps.' " 
 
 * The Bank robbery. 
 
328 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 1844. 
 Dissenters Chapels Act, 7 & 8 Vict. ch. 45. 
 
 [Mr. RoBI^^soN used often to say that, during his life, he had never done 
 anything of the sUghtest use to his fellow-men, except in the cases of the 
 Dissenters' Chapels Act, the Flaxman Gallery, and the establishment of the HalJ 
 (University Hall) in Gordon Square, for residence of students of University 
 College, London. He had collected and set apart large bundles of papers 
 and letters relating to these subjects, meaning, no doubt, to use them if he 
 should feel able to continue his Reminiscences. The passing of the Chapels 
 Bill was to him the most interesting event of his life. " My interest in this 
 Bill rises to anxiety"; "It is the single subject in which I take a warm in- 
 terest " ; and similar expressions now occur in almost every page of his diary and 
 letters. Though not expecting that the subject can excite much general interest, 
 the Editor still feels it his duty to give a few extracts from the papers so collected 
 by Mr. Robinson, on a subject so very dear to him. To the end of his life, it 
 was to him a matter of anxiety and perplexity to whom his papers should be 
 intrusted, and it is believed that such anxiety arose mainly from a fear that 
 all mention of his share in affairs such as those now coming under relation, and 
 of his views on them, and on other matters not of popular interest, might be 
 suppressed. 
 
 The debates on the passing of this Bill through Parliament, with a number 
 of illustrative documents, were published in a separate volume. Mr. Robin- 
 son was one of its editors. The first of the extracts about to be given from 
 Mr. Robinson's collections are from a paper, possibly of Mr. Robinson's com- 
 position, which seems to have been intended for an introduction to this vol- 
 ume: — 
 
 " Before this act was passed, the Law Courts had refused to recognize the 
 possibility of men meeting for religious exercises, each unfettered as to 
 his individual ideas of dogmas. They insisted that the mere words, loorship of 
 God, used by any religionists in their deeds, must essentially mean the annun- 
 ciation of some peculiar metaphysical views of faith, and that the duty of the 
 Law Courts was to find out and "define these views, and to confine such reli- 
 gionists and their successors within them for all futurity. This act recognizes, 
 in the clearest manner, the full Protestant liberty of private judgment, ' un- 
 fettered by the accident of ancestral creed, and protected from all inquisitorial 
 interference.' " 
 
 " By the effect of the legal decisions in the cases of the Lady Hewley Trust 
 Fund,"' and of the Wolverhampton Chapel, the Nonconformists of England and 
 Ireland, who held religious opinions at variance with the doctrinal Articles of 
 the Church of England, found that the title to the chapels, burial-grounds, and 
 religious property which had been created by their forefathers, and upheld and 
 added to by themselves, w^as bad." 
 
 " Though its invalidity had never been previously suspected, those decisions 
 showed that it had been bad for nearly, if not quite, a century." 
 
 As it had been made illegal by the Toleration Act, and "continued illegal 
 until 1813,* to impugn the doctrine of the Trinity, no Unitarians could be 
 entitled to retain possession of a chapel built before that time.] 
 
 * In this year Mr. Smith's Act passed, 53 Geo. 3, c. 160. 
 
1844.] BILL INTRODUCED. — BISHOP BLOMFIELD. 329 
 
 MARCH 12th,— 1 learned to-day that the Bill lately 
 brought into the House of Lords for the relief of Dis- 
 senters by the Chancellor is intended for the benefit of Unita- 
 rians. It is hardly conceivable that the orthodox will not 
 have power to throw it out. 
 
 March 23d. — How strange, that I should have actually for- 
 gotten till now a very remarkable incident ! I was requested 
 by Edwin Field * to accompany him and Mr. Thornley t on a 
 deputation to Lord Brougham to secure his interest on behalf 
 of the Unitarian Relief Bill. This, I believe, the Unitarians 
 will have ; but I have not the slightest hope of ultimate suc- 
 cess. The orthodox will be too powerful. But I shall have 
 opportunities of reverting to this subject, as I am requested on 
 Tuesday to go to the Bishop of London. 
 
 March 26th. — A busy day and a memorable one, inasmuch 
 as I found myself, mirabile dictu, in the study of the Bishop 
 of London, J as one of a deputation to discuss with him the 
 Unitarian Bill. There were nine of us. 
 
 The Bishop began by being strongly against us in principle. 
 The only point made by the Bishop was the injustice of hold- 
 ing property intended for the promotion of one set of opinions, 
 and maintaining the very opposite. At the same time, he al- 
 lowed the utility of a limitation on litigation, and that it was 
 not right to make orthodoxy the subject of litigation in secular 
 courts. 
 
 [On the 25th of April, a very long and able letter of H. C. E.'s 
 on this subject, signed "A Barrister," appeared in the Times, 
 From it the last sentence only shall be extracted. Many other 
 letters and papers of his were published, but space will not 
 allow any enumeration of them.] 
 
 " The Unitarians maintain, certainly, very obnoxious opinions, 
 and thereby expose themselves to obloquy ; while their adver- 
 saries, in violation of all the professed principles of dissent, 
 are striving to turn a penny by means of their pretended or- 
 thodoxy ; and that after a silence, an acquiescence, a fellowship, 
 an acting in concert with those they seek to plunder, of more 
 than a century's duration. Is this to be permitted % " 
 
 June 6th. — I went as early as four to the Commons. There 
 
 * A solicitor under whose charge the Bill was chiefly placed, and afterwards 
 one of H. C. R.'s executors. 
 
 t M. P. for Wolverhampton. 
 
 X Bishop Blomfield, son of H. C. R.'s old Bury schoolmaster. See Vol. L 
 p. 3. 
 
330 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, [Chap. 18. 
 
 I stayed till twelve, when I came home with Cookson. A most 
 interesting debate, but a sadly one-sided one. For the Bill, 
 Attorney-General* admirably luminous. Macaulay eloquent 
 and impressive, but still not quite what I liked, — a want of 
 delicacy. Monckton Milnes ingenious and earnest, — an un- 
 expected speech. Gladstone historical and elaborate. Sheil 
 wild, extravagant, and funny, especially in an attack on Sir 
 Robert Ingiis. Sir Robert Peel very dignified and conscien- 
 tious. Lord John Russell, — not much in his speech, beyond 
 his testimony to the merits of the Bill. Contra, Such a set ! 
 Not a cheer elicited the whole night. They consisted of Sir 
 Robert Ingiis, Plumptre, Colquhoun, and Fox Maule. Lord 
 Sandon spoke, but it is not clear on which side he meant to 
 speak. On the whole, it was an evening of very great excite- 
 ment and pleasure, and I shall have now a few days of pleas- 
 ure in talking over this business. 
 
 July 6th, — I w^ent to carry papers to the Bishop of Nor- 
 wich, on whom Mark Phillips and I had previously called. He 
 received me with great personal kindness, but said : '^ I shall 
 take no part in the measure. I cannot oppose a Bill which is 
 to extend religious liberty, but I cannot assist a Bill which is 
 to favor Unitarianism." — I gTavely said, "I should have a 
 very bad opinion of any bishop w^ho did." — '^ How do you 
 mean that % " he asked. — " Thus, my Lord. This bill will 
 merely extend to Unitarians the same protection which all 
 other Protestant Dissenters enjoy. To be relieved from perse- 
 cution is a great blessing, but surely not a/a^'or." — *^ Cer- 
 tainly not. And is that all that your Bill does *? " — ^* Your 
 lordship shall judge." I then put into his hands several 
 papers, which, as I was the next day informed, kept him up all 
 night, and ultimately he voted for and spoke in favor of the 
 BiU. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 11th May, 1844. 
 
 .... I never felt so strong an interest in any measure of 
 legislation. Not, if I know my own feelings, from any great 
 interest I take in Unitarians, as such, but because they are 
 standing in the breach in a case of religious liberty. Surely, 
 if there be such a thing as persecution, it is that of saying that 
 people are to be robbed of their own property because they 
 have thought proper to change their opinions, or, be it, their 
 
 faith 
 
 * Sir William Follett. 
 
 I 
 
1844.] WORDSWORTH ON THE BILL. — H. C. R. IN REPLY. 331 
 
 June 24th. — I wrote to Mrs. Fletcher, giving her an account 
 of the Bill. I ventured to remark on the single defect of 
 Wordsworth's character. He has lost his love of liberty, not 
 his humanity, but his confidence in mankind. 
 
 Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 14th July, 1844. 
 
 I wrote to you at some length immediately on receipt of 
 your last to Mrs. Wordsworth, but as my letter turned mainly 
 on the subject of yours, — the Dissenters' Chapels Bill, — I 
 could not muster resolution to send it, for I felt it was reviving 
 matter of which you had had too much. 
 
 I was averse to the Bill, and my opinion is not changed. I 
 do not consider the authorities you appeal to as the best judges 
 in a matter of this kind, w^hich it is absurd to treat as a mere 
 question of property, or any gTOSS material right or privilege, 
 — say a right of road, or any other thing of the kind, for which 
 usage may be pleaded. But the same considerations that pre- 
 vented my sending the letter in which the subject was treated 
 at length forbid me to enter again upon it ; so let it rest till 
 we have the pleasure of meeting, and then if it be thought 
 worth while, we may revert to it 
 
 H. C. R. TO Wordsworth. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, 24th July, 1844. 
 I was delighted to receive a letter in your handwriting, 
 though that pleasure was lessened by its bearing marks of being 
 written with uneasiness, if not pain. I am not going to tease 
 you by discussing a subject you wish to avoid, and therefore I 
 shall leave entirely unnoticed the topic involved in your em- 
 phatic declaration that you dislike the Bill which has been the 
 subject of my unremitted exertions for the last two, or rather 
 three, months, and which exertions have been rewarded by a 
 triumphant victory. I perfectly agree with you, that the great 
 lawyers are no authority whatever on any other than a question 
 of property, and of a gross material right. I shall therefore 
 merely try to convince you, that you are under a mistake al- 
 together about the other question which you allude to, and 
 which you and I very well understand ; that is, we know what 
 is meant by it, and can allude to it without further statement. 
 Your friend. Sir Robert Tngiis, declared expressly, that he con- 
 
332 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 18. 
 
 sidered the Bill merely as a question of property, and the pro- 
 test of the Bishop of Exeter went almost altogether on the 
 ground that the law of trusts was violated by it. This was 
 treated by the law lords with something like scorn, and you 
 will allow that they are, on such a question, absolute authority. 
 
 But the other question which you have in your mind has for 
 thirty years ceased to be a question arguable either in a court 
 of law or in a legislative body ; for, by Mr. Smith's Act, which 
 passed in 1813, Unitarianism is put on a perfect equality with 
 all other varieties of Protestant dissent. And in the Lady 
 Hewley case, it was declared unanimously by the judges that, 
 since that Act, Chapelsfor preaching Unitarianism maybe legally 
 endowed, and, by this declaration, all that stuff is at once dis- 
 posed of which such men as Mr. Plumptre, Lord Mountcashel, 
 &c., are continually repeating, that the assertion of anti-Trini- 
 tarianism (that is, Arianism as well as Socinianism) is an offence 
 at common law. The only question, therefore, which the legis- 
 lature was called upon to answer, had a reference merely to 
 the material and gross interest in the old chapels built before 
 Mr. Smith's Act. 
 
 The right to preach Unitarianism being ascertained by the 
 statute law and the declaration of the judges on that point, 
 viz., the mere question of property. Lord Lyndhurst, and every 
 other law lord, with the concurrence of the Attorney-General 
 (and Mr. Gladstone on High-Church principles), held that it 
 was a monstrous injustice to take from the Unitarians, merely 
 on a law fiction, the property they had held for several genera- 
 tions ; that because, before 1813, Unitarianism was not toler- 
 ated, therefore it must be inferred that Trinit arianism was 
 intended, the fact being beyond all contradiction, as Mr. Glad- 
 stone asserted, after a long historical investigation, that while 
 the Independents (of William's and Anne's time) inserted in 
 their foundation deeds a formal declaration of their doctrines, 
 the Presbyterians, though the Arian controversy was then 
 carr^dng on, refused to bind themselves to any faith whatever. 
 In this they acted consistently, as Dissenters (the first prin- 
 ciple of Dissent is self-government) ; and having left the Church 
 because they would not submit to her dictation, neither would 
 they call upon others to submit to theirs, Nor would they 
 deprive themselves of the power to change, if they thought 
 proper. Whether this was right or wrong in itself is not the 
 question, but whether, they reserving to themselves the 
 right, utter strangers, and even enemies (such as Independents 
 
1844.] THE QUESTION NOT ONE OF HERESY. 333 
 
 were), ought to have the power to strip them of their property 
 for doing what they liked in the exercise of that right, even 
 after Unitarianism had become perfectly legal. I do not at all 
 wonder that you, and other orthodox Christians (before you 
 troubled yourselves to learn what the facts were as to the 
 present state of the law, as well as the history of Nonconfor- 
 mity, before and after the Act of Toleration), should be averse 
 to the Bill ; but I have met with very few indeed who, after 
 investigation, did not declare themselves satisfied with the 
 BiU. 
 
 If you had lived when the writ de hceretico comhurendo was 
 abolished, I am sure you would not have resisted the abolition 
 on the ground that it favored heresy ; though, certainly, it 
 was a great gain to heretics that they were no longer liable to 
 be burned 
 
 Whether or not it is right to allow Unitarianism as a form 
 of Christianity is another question, — and this would be fairly 
 met by a motion to repeal Mr. Smith's Act and re-enact the 
 old penal statutes. And as you say you dislike this Bill, you 
 ought in consistency to like such a Bill, which I am sure you 
 would not. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 27th December, 1844. 
 
 Yesterday I went down to Ambleside. There I called on 
 Dr. Davy, and also on Mr. Carr, a very sensible man, whose 
 company I like. He is, however, as well as the poet, a sturdy 
 enemy to the Bill, — our BOl. I shall punish him for this in- 
 iquity, by making him read my articles in the Times on the 
 subject. You may call this a cruel punishment, but he de- 
 serves no better. I have had a little sparring with the poet 
 on the subject. He has not thrown any light on it ; and, in- 
 deed, his erroneous conclusion arises from unacquaintance with 
 the facts. On one point I agree with him, that no dissenter 
 ought to be allowed to make endowments for the maintenance 
 of particular opinions, that may make it their interest not to 
 return to the Church. This, in fact, is quite in conformity 
 with the view taken by the Unitarians in support of the Bill. 
 Wordsworth, like most others of the orthodox, has an un- 
 reasonable dislike to Unitarians, but really knows very little 
 about them. I have, however, told him that I am now a 
 
334 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 member of the Unitarian Association, and he receives this 
 kindly, for he really has no bitterness about him. And though 
 he has Puseyite propensities, he by no means approves of the 
 
 excess to which such ecclesiastical firebrands as and 
 
 are now driving their adherents. He thinks that if there be 
 not some relaxation, and if the Pusey or Popery party persist, 
 a civil war is likely to be excited, and that it would break out 
 in Scotland. This would be a sad prospect, if it were not 
 pretty certain that these high Prelatists have already excited 
 a reaction that will crush them. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DECEMBER 26th. — (Rydal.) Slept in the room in which, 
 after my fall, I was nursed last year by that excellent ser- 
 vant, James. Last night heard Wordsworth read prayers from 
 Thornton's collection with remarkable beauty and effect. He 
 told me, that the Duke of Wellington, being on a visit, was 
 informed by his host that he had family prayers in the morn- 
 ing. Would he attend ? " With great pleasure," said the 
 Duke. The gentleman read out of this book. " What ! you 
 use fancy prayers T' The Duke never came down again. He 
 expected the Church prayers, which Wordsworth uses in the 
 morning. 
 
 Dined at Mrs. Fletcher's.* A party of eight only. Among 
 those present were Mr. Jeffries, the clergyman, and Hartley 
 Coleridge. Young Fletcher, the Oxonian, and future head of 
 the house, also there, — a genteel youth, with a Puseyite ten- 
 dency. H. Coleridge behaved very well. He read some verses 
 on Dr. Arnold which I could not comprehend, — he read them 
 so unpleasantly ; and he sang a comic song, which kept me 
 very grave. He left us quite early. 
 
 * Mrs. Fletcher was formerly a lady of great renown in Scotland. Her 
 husband was a Scotch Whig reforming barrister, counsel for Joseph Gerrald in 
 1793, the friend of Jeffrey^ Horner, and Brougham in their early days. His 
 lady was an English beauty and heiress. Brougham eulogizes her in his col- 
 lected speeches. I knew her thirty years ago at Mrs. Barbauld's. There are 
 letters to her in Mrs. Barbauld's works. Slie retains all her free opinions; and 
 as she lives three miles from Wordsworth's, I go and see her alone, that we may 
 talk at our ease on topics not gladly listened to at Rydal Mount. She is ex- 
 cellent in conversation, — unusually so for a woman at seventy-six. Her 
 daughters are also very superior v\''omen. One of them has married Dr. Davy» 
 brother to Sir Humphry. — H. C. R 
 
1^:^] DINNER WITH S. ROGERS. 335 
 
 1845. 
 
 January 5th. — Dined and took tea with the Fletchers. A 
 very agreeable young man, a Swiss, son of a refugee, with 
 them ; also Mrs. Fletcher's grandson, the Oxonian. I was 
 amused by a playful denomination of the Oxford parties. 
 They consist of Hampden and the Arians, Newman and the 
 Tractarians, Palmer and the Retractarians, and Golightly and 
 the Detractarians. In other respects, it gives me no pleasure 
 to see that the pro-Popery spirit is stirring in the young men 
 at Oxford. 
 
 H. C. E. TO T. E. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 31st January, 1845. 
 
 I dined this day with Rogers, the Dean of the poets. We 
 had an interesting party of eight. Moxon, the publisher, 
 Kenny, the dramatic poet (who married Mrs. Holcroft, now 
 become an old woman), himself decrepit without being very 
 old, Spedding, Lushington, and Alfred Tennyson, three young 
 men of eminent talent belonging to literary Young England ; 
 the latter, Tennyson, being by far the most eminent of the 
 young poets. His poems are full of genius, but he is fond of 
 the enigmatical, and many of his most celebrated pieces are 
 really poetic riddles. He is an admirer of Goethe, and I had 
 a long tete-a-tete with him about the gxeat poet. We waited 
 for the eighth, — a lady, — who, Rogers said, was coming on 
 purpose to see Tennyson, whose works she admired. He made 
 a mystery of this fair devotee, and would give no name. 
 
 It was not till dinner was half over that he was called out 
 of the room, and returned with a lady under his arm. A lady, 
 neither splendidly dressed nor strikingly beautiful, as it seemed 
 to me, was placed at the table. A w^hisper ran along the 
 company, which I could not make out. She instantly joined 
 our conversation, with an ease and spirit that showed her quite 
 used to society. She stepped a little too near my prejudices 
 by a harsh sentence about Goethe, which I resented. And we 
 had exchanged a few sentences when she named herself, and I 
 then recognized the much-eulogized and calumniated Honor- 
 able Mrs. Norton, who, you may recollect, was purged by a 
 jury finding for the defendant in a crim, con. action by her 
 husband against Lord Melbourne. When I knew who she 
 was, I felt that I ought to have distinguished her beauty and 
 grace by my own discernment, and not waited for a formal an- 
 
336 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19. 
 
 noimcement. You are aware that her position in society was, 
 to a great degi'ee, imperilled. 
 
 Barron Field to H. C. R. 
 Meadfoot House, Torquay, 16th February, 1845. 
 I thank you for joxir great friend's " Railway Letters " and 
 "Sonnets.". . . . How can the man who has been constantly 
 publishing poetry for the last forty years, and has at last made 
 that poetry part of the food of the pviblic mind, call himself a 
 man of " retirement," if he means to include himself^ And, 
 if not, how can he complain that he has at last, by his Lake- 
 and-Mountain poetry, created a desire for realizing some of 
 those beautiful descriptions of scenery and elements in the 
 inhabitants of Liverpool and Manchester, which may possibly 
 bring them in crowds by railway to Windermere ? My objec- 
 tion to the reasoning of the " Letters " is that, — L There is 
 no danger. 2. It would be a benefit to the humbler classes, 
 greater than the inconvenience to the residents, if there was 
 any danger. Lastly, I have a personal argument against Mr. 
 Wordsworth, that he and Rydal can no more pretend to ^'re- 
 tirement " than the Queen. They have both bartered it for 
 fame. As for Mr. Wordsworth, he has himself been crying 
 Roast meat all his life. Has he not even published, besides 
 his poems which have made the district classic ground, an 
 actual prose " Guide " % And now he complains that the de- 
 cent clerks and manufacturers of Liverpool and Manchester 
 should presume to flock of a holiday to see the scene of " The 
 Excursion," and to buy his own '' Guide-book ! " For I utterly 
 deny that the holders of Kendal and Bowness excursion rail- 
 way tickets would require " wrestling-matches, horse and boat 
 races, pothouses, or beer-shops." If they came in crowds 
 (which I am afraid they would not), it would be as literally to 
 see the lakes and mountains as the Brighton holiday-ticketers 
 go to see the sea. 
 
 March 13th, — Talked with Rogers of Sydney Smith, of 
 whose death we had just heard. Rogers said, in answer to the 
 question, How came it that he did not publicly show his 
 powers 1 " He had too fastidious a taste, and too high an idea 
 of what ought to be." But to that I replied : " He might have 
 written on temporary subjects as a matter of business ; — he 
 might have written capital letters." Rogers spoke highly of 
 
1845.] ON WISE CHARITY. 337 
 
 Mrs. Barbauld, and related that Madame D'Arblay said she re- 
 peated every night Mrs. Barbauld's famous stanza, — 
 
 " Life, we've been long together." 
 
 April 25th. — Called on Wordsworth at Moxon's. The Poet 
 Laureate is come on purpose to attend the Queen's Ball, to 
 which he has a special invitation, and for which he has come 
 up three hundred miles. He goes from Rogers's this evening 
 with sword, bag-wig, and court-dress. 
 
 May 2d. — My second breakfast. Wordsworth was kept 
 away by indisposition. I had with me Archdeacon Robinson, 
 our new Master of the Temple, Quayle, S. Naylor, Dr. Booth, 
 &c. The last mentioned a mot of one Sylvester : " When 
 people tire of business in town, they go to retire in the coun- 
 try." 
 
 May 13th. — This day I attained my seventieth year, and 
 from this I consider old age is commencing; and I hope I 
 shall be able to keep the resolution I have formed, from hence- 
 forth to be more liberal in expense to myself, and not fear in- 
 dulgences which I may practise without harm to myself or 
 others. As far as others are concerned, I less need this admo- 
 nition. 
 
 H. C. R. TO A Friend. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 2cl June, 1845. 
 
 My dear Friend, — It would be an abuse of the privilege 
 of friendship were I to say a word in reply to yoiu* letter as 
 far as it is an explanation of your conduct ; of that, indeed, 
 all explanation is superfluous. It would be inconsistent with 
 my sincere regard for you, to suppose for a moment that you 
 do not precisely what you ought to do. But, in perfect con- 
 sistency with this feeling, I am anxious to say a word on a 
 suggestion in your letter, which seems to imply a general 
 rule of conduct, which I should deprecate as tending to dis- 
 turb all our notions of right and wrong, and even the relations 
 of life. It is this : — 
 
 That a person in the enjoyment of a large income, which 
 enables him both to accumulate a fortune, and hold a distin- 
 guished place in society, — forming, in fact, one of the aris- 
 tocracy, and allowing himself all the indulgences of that class, 
 and having at the same time considerable family claims on 
 him, — is warranted in considering the consequent expendi- 
 ture, not as d-eductio7is from his income, but as the objects of 
 
 VOL. II. 1.5 T 
 
338 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [CHAP.ia 
 
 that charitable fund which, in some proportion to their income, 
 personal expenditure, and accumulation, all men set apart, as 
 a self-imposed social tax. This has been the sense of the bet- 
 ter part of mankind ever since there have been rich and poor, 
 which sense Moses first, among legislators, formalized by in- 
 stituting tithes, and so changed its character. 
 
 Now I feel strongly this, that if wealthy men encourage such 
 an idea as this, they may be led to stand aloof from their fel- 
 low-citizens in works of beneficence, even those of a local de- 
 scription which seem to be most imperative; and these they 
 may allow persons infinitely their inferiors in station, and of 
 far smaller means, to perform alone. In a word, with them, 
 charity would not only begin, it would end, at home. 
 
 My dear friend, I could not be comfortable until I had put 
 this one thought into clear language ; begging you again to be 
 assured that I say this, not as bearing on the particular occa- 
 sion of my former letter, but simply as an earnest protest 
 against the general idea as a rule of conduct. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Paynter. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 11th November, 1845. 
 
 .... Of your London friends 1 have very little to say. 
 I shall breakfast to-morrow with Mr. Rogers, and I hope have 
 a tolerable account of Miss Rogers to report. But she is be- 
 coming very feeble. Last week I called, and was at first told 
 she was out ; but the old German butler could not lie in Ger- 
 man, whatever he could do in English, and confessed that it 
 was her power of enjoying her friends' company that was not 
 at home. 
 
 [Reference has already been made to Robert Robinson, of 
 Cambridge, noted in his day, not only as a writer and a 
 preacher, but also as a sayer of good things. "- 1 can testify," 
 says H. C. R., " that, half a century ago, in all Dissenting 
 circles, the bans mots of Robinson formed a staple of after-din- 
 ner conversation, as now do in all companies the faced ce of the 
 Rev. Canon of St. Paul's, against whom Episcopal ill-will has 
 been unable to produce any retort more pungent than the 
 character of a facetious divine." During the year 1845, H. C. 
 R. put on paper a few anedotes, which had been " floating in 
 his memory between forty and fifty years," and they were 
 printed in a monthly periodical entitled the Christian jBe- 
 
 I 
 
1845.] ROBINSONIANA. — THE WAGER LOST. ' 339 
 
 former* He did not pledge himself for their authenticity, nor 
 their verbal accuracy. The Editor has been repeatedly urged 
 not on any account to omit these characteristic stories.] 
 
 When Robinson first occupied the pulpit of the Baptist 
 meeting at Cambridge, he was exposed to annoyances from the 
 younger gownsmen. They incurred no danger of rustication, 
 being put out of sizings, or even suffering an imposition, for 
 irregularities of that kind. He succeeded, however, in the 
 coarse of a few years, in effecting a change, and, Mr. Dyer 
 says, became popular with a large class. It was soon after 
 his settlement there that a wager arose among a party of un- 
 dergraduates. One of them wagered that he would take his 
 station on the steps of the pulpit, with a large ear-trumpet in 
 his hand, and remain there till the end of the service. Ac- 
 cordingly, he mounted the steps, put the trumpet to his ear, 
 and played the part of a deaf man with all possible gravity. 
 His friends were in the aisle below, tittering at the hoax ; the 
 congregation were scandalized ; but the preacher alone seemed 
 insensible to what was going on. The sermon was on God's 
 mercy, — or whatever the subject might have been at first, in 
 due time it soon turned to that, and the preacher proceeded to 
 this effect : — 
 
 " Not only, my Christian friends, does the mercy of God 
 extend to the most enormous of criminals, so that none, how- 
 ever guilty, may not, if duly penitent, be partakers of the di- 
 vine grace ; but also there are none so low, so mean, so worth- 
 less, as not to be objects of God's fatherly solicitude and care. 
 Indeed, I do hope that it may one day be extended to " — and 
 then, leaning over the pulpit, he stretched out his arm to its 
 utmost length, and placing it on the head of the gownsman, 
 finished his sentence — " to this silly boy ! " 
 
 The wager was lost, for the trumpet fell, and the discomfited 
 stripling bolted. 
 
 A well-known member of the Norfolk Circuit, Hart, after- 
 wards Thorold, related to me, that he once fell in with an 
 elderly officer in the old Cambridge coach to London, who made 
 inquiries concerning Robinson. " I met him," said the stranger, 
 " in this very coach when I was a young man, and when my 
 tone of conversation was that universal among young officers, 
 and I talked in a very fi-ee tone with this Mr. Robinson. I 
 
 • Then under the editorship of the Kev. R. B. Aspland. 
 
340 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 19* 
 
 did not take him for a clergyman, though he was dressed in 
 black ; for he was by no means solemn ; on the contrary, he 
 told several droll stories. But there was one very odd thing 
 about him, that he continually interlarded his stories with an 
 exclamation. Bottles and corks I This seemed so strange, that 
 I' could not help at last asking him why he did so, saying they 
 did not seem to improve his stories at all. ' Don't they '^ ' 
 said Mr. Robinson ; ^ I 'm glad to know that, for I merely used 
 those words by way of experiment.' — ' Experiment ! ' said I ; 
 * how do you mean that 1^ — ' Why, I will tell yoii. I rather 
 pride myself on story-telling, and wish to make my stories as 
 good as they can be. Now, I observed that you told several 
 very pleasant stories, and that you continually make use of 
 such exclamations as, G — d d — n it ! B — ^t me ! (fee, (fee. 
 Now, I can't use such words, for they are irreverent towards 
 the Almighty, and I believe actually sinful ; therefore I wanted 
 to try whether I could not find words that would answer the 
 purpose as well, and be quite innocent at the same time.' 
 All this," said the officer, "was said in so good-humored a 
 tone, that I could not possibly take offence, though apt 
 enough to do so. The reproof had an effect on me, and very 
 much contributed to my breaking myself of the habit of pro- 
 fane swearing." 
 
 Robinson was acrimonious against the supporters of what he 
 deemed the corruptions in the Church and State, and especially 
 intolerant of dulness. Arguing aw^hile with a dull adversary, 
 who had nothing better to allege against Robinson's reasonings 
 than the frequent repetition of, / do not see that, — " You do 
 not see it ! " retorted Robinson, — " do you see this 1 " taking 
 a card out of his pocket and writing God upon it. " Of 
 course I do," said his opponent ; " what then ? " — " Do you 
 see it now 1 " repeated Robinson, — at the same time covering 
 the word with a half-crown piece, — *' I suspect not." 
 
 Among Robinson's most eminent qualities were his didactic 
 talents, as well out of as in the pulpit. He was a great fa- 
 vorite with children. It is many years since I heard the 
 following relation : — 
 
 " I went one morning into the house of a friend. The 
 ladies were busy preparing a packet for one of the children 
 at school. Betsy, a little girl between five and sixyears old, 
 was playing about the room. Robinson came, in, when this 
 
 1 
 
1645.} A CHILD'S LETTER. 341 
 
 dialogue followed : Well, Betsy, would not you like to send a 
 letter to Tommy ] — B. Yes^ I should. — K. Why don't you] 
 
 — B. I can't write. — K Shall I write for you'] — B. yes I 
 I w^ish you would. — R. Well, get me some pen, ink, and 
 paper. — The child brought them. — R. Now, it must be your 
 letter. I give you the use of my hand ; but yovi must tell 
 me what to say. - — B. I don't know. — R. You don't know ! 
 though you love your brother so much. Shall I find some- 
 thing for you 1 — B. yes ! pray do. — R. Well, then, let 's 
 see : jDear Tommy, — Last night the house ivas burnt down from 
 top to bottom. — B. No ! don't say that. — R. Why not 1 — B. 
 'Cause it is n't true. — R. What ! you have learned you must 
 not write what 's not true.. I am glad you have learned so 
 much. Stick to it as long as you live. Never write what is 
 not true. But you must think of something that is true. 
 Come, tell me something. — B. I don't know. — R. Let 's see — 
 The kitten has been lolaying with its tail this quarter of an hour, 
 
 — B. No, don't write that. — R. Why should not I WTite that % 
 It 's true ; I have seen that myself — B. 'Cause that 's silly ; 
 Tommy don't w^ant to know anything about the kitten and its 
 tail. - — R. Good again ! Why, my dear ; I see you know a 
 good deal about letter-writing. It is not enough that a 
 thing is true ; it must be worth writing about. Do tell me 
 something to say. — B. I don't know. — R. Shall I write this : 
 You HI be glad to hear that Sammy is quite recovered from 
 the small-pox and come down stairs ? — B. yes ! do write 
 that. — R. And why should I write that ? — B. 'Cause Tom- 
 my loves Sammy dearly, and will be so glad to hear he 's got 
 well again. — R. Why, Betsy, my dear, you know how to write 
 a letter very w^ell, if you will give yourself a little trouble. 
 Now, what next 1 " 
 
 This is part of a story told after dinner at the table of the 
 late Mr. Edward Randall, of Cambridge, an old friend of Mr. 
 Robinson, and one of his congregation. I have repeated as 
 much as suits a written communication.* A pretty long 
 letter was produced, and the little girl was caressed and 
 praised for knowing so well how to w^rite a letter ; for she was 
 made to utter a number of simple truths, such as an infant 
 mind can entertain and reproduce. I recollect it was re- 
 marked by one of the company, that this little dialogue was 
 
 * In repeating the story, H. C. K. represented one of Robert Robinson's sug- 
 
 festions to be: "Brother has been very naughty, and would not learn 
 is lessons." To which the little girl objected that it would be unkind. . So the 
 letter was to include nothing; unkind. 
 
342 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY GRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. li. 
 
 in the spirit of Socrates ; and it was added by another, what 
 no one disputed, that such an anecdote, embodying such a 
 letter, and found in Xenophon, would have held a prominent 
 place among the Memorabilia. 
 
 In the days when Robinson flourished, an imputation of 
 scepticism as to the existence of a personal Devil influencing 
 the actions of men was fatal to religious character. It was at 
 a meeting of ministers that Robinson once overheard one of 
 them whisper to another, that on that essential point of faith 
 he was not sound. '^ Brother ! brother ! " he cried out, " don't 
 misrepresent me. How do you think I can dare to look you 
 in the face, and at the same time deny the existence of a 
 Devil '? Is he not described in Holy Writ as the accuser of the 
 brethren ] " 
 
 On another occasion, a good but not very wise man asking 
 him, in a tone of simplicity and surprise, " Don't you believe 
 in the Devil 1 " Robinson answered him in like tone, " 
 dear, no ! / believe in God, — don't you ? " 
 
 Mr. Robinson was in the habit of delivering an evening 
 lecture on a week-day, and on such occasions, after the service, 
 enjoyed a pipe in the vestry, attended by a few of his hearers. 
 It was from one of these, then present, a young aspirant to 
 the ministry, that the following anecdote was derived. One 
 evening the party was broken in upon by an unexpected 
 visitor. A young Church divine, who had just descended 
 from his own pulpit, came in full canonicals, in a state of ex- 
 citement. He said he was threatened with a prohibition of 
 his lectures by his bishop, on the ground that they led to acts 
 of immorality ; and he wanted to know from Mr. Robinson 
 whether he had any cause, from his own observation in his 
 own chapel, to think that there was any foundation for the 
 pretence. Robinson, having answered his inquiry, took the 
 opportunity of expatiating on the obstruction thus threatened 
 against the preaching of the Gospel, and went so far as to ex- 
 hort the young divine to relieve himself from such oppression 
 and come out from among the ungodly ; pointing out to him 
 that the means would not be wanting ; among the persons 
 then present were those who would assist in procuring a piece 
 of ground and erecting a building, (fee, &c. The seed, however, 
 was cast on stony gTound and produced no fruit. The young 
 divine depai-ted, exclaiming as he left the room, The Lord will 
 
1846.] SIMEON. — SOCIETY AT RYDAL. 343 
 
 provide ! And, whether it came from the Lord or not, in the 
 end there was an ample provision. In a few years he became 
 the most popular preacher in Cambridge, — the fomider of an 
 Evangelical and Low Church party, which was for many years 
 triumphant, but is now threatened with discomfiture by the 
 successful rivalry of a youthful Arminian and High Church 
 party, known by the name of Puseyites. The young divine 
 was Charles Simeon. 
 
 Eobinson was desirous of repressing the conceit which so 
 often leads the illiterate to become instructors of their breth- 
 ren ; yet on one occasion, in opposition to w^hat seemed to him 
 a disposition to undue interference, he said : *^ I have in my 
 pigsty ten white pigs and one black one. The other morning, 
 as I passed by, I heard the black pig squeaking away lustily, 
 and I thought to myself, that 's pig language : I don't under- 
 stand it, but perhaps it pleases the white ones : they are quiet 
 enough." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 1846. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R 
 
 Rydal. Mount, January 2, 1846. 
 
 .... It would answer no purpose to tell you day by day 
 with whom, and where, I ate and drank, for it would be but 
 ringing the changes on the same names, — the Wordsworths, 
 Fletchers, Arnolds, and Martineaus, in a variety of combina- 
 tions. And were I to tell you of my several walks between 
 Ambleside and Grasmere, as you unluckily do not know the 
 country, the names w^ould not bring to your mind the images 
 which they raise in the minds of all who do know it. 
 
 On Wednesday, H. Martineau dined here to meet Moxon, 
 who has been on a week's visit, and leaves us to-day. She 
 was very communicative on Mesmerism. On Monday, I took 
 her to Mrs. Fletcher's. The friendship of these ladies ought 
 to be strong, for it is tried as well by politics as by physics. 
 Though both are Whigs, they embrace different sides on the 
 last question of public interest. H. Martineau swears by her 
 
344 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 friend Grey ; Mrs. Fletcher is an out-and-out admirer of Lord 
 John, and therefore cannot forgive the young Earl for breaking 
 up the new-born Cabinet. Miss Martineau says, the Specta- 
 tor's account of the breaking up is the true one. I hope you 
 read the admirable article on Sir Robert Peel in last week's 
 Examiner. If not, go to the Pigeons to read it. Even Words- 
 worth applauds it, because, he says, there is a substratum of 
 serious truth in the midst of a profusion of wit and banter. 
 H. Martineau, as well as H. C. R, is a sort of a Peelite, but 
 the Words worths are utterly against him. However, you 
 know that my love and admiration of the poet were never car- 
 ried over to the politician. He is a Protectionist, but much 
 more zealously of the Church than of the land. I go to Lon- 
 don with great expectations of what the revived Ministry will 
 effect. The Whigs will to a man support Sir Robert. The 
 agricultural party will not succumb tamely. It will be the 
 country against the town, and the contest will be to the full 
 as much an affair of interest as of principle. 
 
 January 7th. — (Rydal.) This evening Wordsworth related 
 a pretty anecdote of his cookmaid. A stranger who was shown 
 about the grounds asked to see his study. The servant took 
 him to the library, and said, " This is master's library, but 
 he studies in the fields."^' 
 
 February 18th. — I spent an agreeable afternoon at Edwin 
 Field's. A very rising and able man w^as there, just beginning 
 to be one of the chiefs of the Chancery Bar. His name is 
 Rolt. He has been employed by Edwin Field in the Appeal in 
 the Irish case coming on before the Lords. I have seldom 
 seen a more impressive person. I walked from Hampstead to 
 tow^n with him. 
 
 April 5th. — I went to the Essex Street Chapel, and heard a 
 sermon on the sin against the Holy Ghost. I enjoyed it 
 much, and thought with regret how much I have lost by not 
 attending before.* 
 
 April 14th. — (Bury.) I had a three hours' walk with Don- 
 aldson, the head-master of the Grammar School. We walked 
 
 * H. C. R. became after this a regular attendant at Essex Street Chapel, and 
 frequently expressed the great plearure he had in the services of the Rev. T. 
 Madge, the successor of the Rev. T. Belsham. Mr. Madge was at one time min- 
 ister at Bury St. Edmunds, H. C.R.'s native place; and another ground of sym- 
 pathy between the two was a warm admiration of Wordsworth, in the davs 
 when the appreciators of Wordsworth were few. When H. C. R. was on cir- 
 cuit at Norwich, he frequently used to call on the Rev. T. Madge, then minister 
 of the Octagon Chapel, to talk about the productions of their favorite poet. 
 
1846.] NON-CON. DINNER. 345 
 
 round by the Fornham Road, and back by the East Gate. 
 Our talk was on religion. His liberality surprised and de- 
 lighted me. He showed me the proof of his forthcoming arti- 
 cle on Bunsen's " Egypt " in the Quarterly Review. He goes 
 beyond Kenrick in liberality. He wishes Kenrick to know 
 hereafter that the article was written last September, and 
 finished and in print before the appearance of Kenrick's work 
 on primeval history. In this article he has expressed himself 
 strongly against plenary inspiration. He declares himself to 
 be a believer in all Church doctrines, but avails himself of the 
 glorious latitude which the Church allows. He maintains that 
 only the Calvinist and the Romanist are excluded from the 
 Church ; the Calvinist on account of the doctrine of election 
 and denial of baptismal regeneration. He referred to a 
 Bampton Lecturer, Archbishop Lawrence, in proof that the 
 Anglican Articles are not Calvinistic. He says many of the 
 Anglican Articles are in the words of Melanchthon, whom 
 Calvin hated. He declares himself a Trinitarian, but in his 
 explanation he does not deny what is called Sabellianism ; and 
 regeneration is not sanctification. He blames Dissenters for 
 needlessly leaving the Church. 
 
 June Jfth. — I took the chair at a dinner, at which there 
 were many of our friends. I must have spoken too much, for 
 scarcely any one else spoke. I had at my right Booth and 
 Field, at my left Robberds and James Heywood. I gave the 
 Queen and Prince Albert with becoming brevity, and then the 
 three toasts,* all at some length. I began by joking on re- 
 quiring conformity to Non-con. toasts, and on our name ; ac- 
 cording to Goethe, the Devil being the old original Non-con. I 
 eulogized the 2,000, not for their theology, but for their in- 
 teginty alone. I was most at length on Milton. I statqd 
 why we had elected him to be our patron saint, not for his 
 gi-eat poems (characterized), but for his labors for liberty. In 
 the third toast, '^ Civil and Religious Liberty," &c., I asserted 
 that liberty had nothing to do with popular power. 
 
 June 13th. — I dined at Ravraond's t with a sino'ular va- 
 riety of notabilities, viz. Macready, Talfourd, Madge, Forster 
 of the Daili/ Neivs, Pettigrew, Ainsworth, Pryce, and, at the 
 bottom. Sir Thomas Marrable, or something like it. What a 
 mixture ! — representatives of the stage, the bar, Unitarian 
 preaching, the periodical press, and Newgate school of romance ; 
 
 ♦ See ante, pp. 286, 287. t Author of " Life of Elliston." 
 
 15* 
 
346 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 but, before that, I should have said, antiquarian and medical 
 literature. 
 
 June 16th, — An interesting day. I breakfasted early, and at 
 ten was at the White Horse, Piccadilly, and went by an omni- 
 bus before eleven, which set me down near Mr. Field's.* I 
 spent seven hours with him. I was delighted with his menage 
 and his account of himself. He is living in a small house 
 under the Duke of Northumberland, and leads a life of study. 
 He has improved his income by making colors for painters, 
 and all his philosophy has sprung out of his perception of the 
 law of nature, — a triplicity in color as in sounds. He calls 
 himself a Trinitarian, but his doctrine is perfectly philosoph- 
 ical. He gives no offence by explaining himself to those who 
 could not but misunderstand him. 
 
 T. R. TO H. C. R. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, Thursday, June 10, 1846. 
 
 I have now passed another night, and fully believe that I am 
 stronger, but still liable any moment to a seizure, out of which 
 I shall never recover. I contemplate death, and all its conse- 
 quences, with perfect composure, and have certain conceptions 
 of a future existence, which I imagine would not have arisen in 
 my mind without foundation. I read with pleasure, unknown 
 before, such sentiments as are expressed in the Psalms and 
 other devotional parts of the Holy Scriptures. But still I feel 
 no disposition to build any hopes of a hereafter upon a hook ; 
 and without the experience of what has passed of a sort of 
 revelation in my own mind, I should not think much of any 
 written words. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 12th June. 
 
 The tone of the last three letters from you has been so seri- 
 ous, that I am now sensible that my last few letters have been 
 of too light a character, and that I ought not to have dwelt so 
 exclusively as I have done on the amusements of the cuiTcnt 
 
 * George Field is an elderly gentleman, a character, living in retirement at 
 Isleworth, where he writes philosophical books. He is a metaphysician of the 
 Greek school, and is a sort of unconscious partisan of the German philosophy, 
 of which he in fact knows nothing. He has written practical works on Chro- 
 matics, and has earned an independence by preparing colors for artists. He is 
 a man of simple habits, and lives a sort of hermit life. — H. C. R. 
 
1846.] GRAVE THOUGHTS IN OLD AGE. 347 
 
 week. Whether this be so or not, I ought not certainly to go 
 on in the same way, without answering especially your last 
 letter. You remark on the serious convictions which, with 
 unusLial strength, have of late forced themselves on your 
 mind, and add that, without these personal convictions, the 
 truths or facts stated in a mere hook could not produce any 
 such effect. 
 
 Now, I believe that what you here state as a personal feel- 
 ing is a general impression ; and that, in almost all cases, those 
 ultimate impressions which have obtained the name of faith, 
 or belief, are to be ascribed to the correspondence of the evi- 
 dence or doctrine stated in revelation with the moral or re- 
 ligious sentiments which have grown up in each individual, and 
 which constitute his personal character. And this fact it is 
 which serves to explain the great diversity of opinion that 
 arises in individual minds contemplating the very same ex- 
 ternal thing, be it called doctrine or proof of doctrine. It is 
 otherwise quite incomprehensible how it has happened that so 
 great a variety, amounting even to a contrariety, of opinion 
 has been formed concerning the doctrines contained in the 
 same work or book. All the Christian sects maintain that their 
 peculiar doctrines are at least not at variance with the Script- 
 ures ; some confess that their opinions are founded on the 
 decision of the Church, in which are found doctrines that are 
 developments of what exists only in a seminal or rudimental 
 state in the Scriptures; but most sects assert that all their 
 opinions and doctrines are in the Scriptures. Now it seems 
 at first very strange that two systems so opposed as Calvinism 
 and Unitarianism should be founded on the same Scriptures. 
 This can only be explained in this way, — that the Calvinist 
 and Unitarian alike bring a mind strongly imbued with pre- 
 conceived sentiments, and a predisposition to certain notions, 
 which it is not dfficult for a pliant, active, and predetermined 
 mind to find in the Scriptures. In no case whatever can any 
 book carry conviction, unless there be a correspondence or har- 
 mony between the book and the mind of the recipient. A 
 man believes because his own heart beats in sympathy with 
 the annunciations of the teacher ; and where this sympathy is 
 strong and complete, the believer does not ask for evidence or 
 proof. The doctrines prove themselves ; and hence that curi- 
 ous fact, that the most pious and devout of believers are those 
 who never ask for evidence. To inquire for it is in itself the 
 sign of an unbelieving or sceptical mind. 
 
348 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY ORABB ROBINSON. L^"ap. 20. 
 
 [In the autumn of 1846, H. C. R. made a tour to Switzer- 
 land and North Italy. The only extracts which will be made 
 from his journal of this tour are two, in reference to the Eev. 
 F. W. Robertson, whom he met at Heidelberg, and with whom 
 he afterwards became intimately acquainted.] 
 
 October 23d. — (Heidelberg.) I had an interesting com- 
 panion at the tahle-d'hote, in a young clergyman, Robertson, 
 who has a curacy at Cheltenham, and, not being in good health, 
 has got a few months' holiday. He is now earnestly studying 
 German literature. We were soon engaged in a discussion on 
 the character of Goethe, as a man, and of most points of mo- 
 rality connected therewith. He intimated a wish to take a 
 walk with me next day, and we have since become quite cor- 
 dial. He is liberal in his opinions ; and though he is alarmed 
 by the Puseyites, he seems to dislike the Evangelicals much 
 more. I like him much. 
 
 October 25th. — (Sunday.) Went to the English chapel, — a 
 room in the Museum, where I heard an admirable sqrmon from 
 Mr. Robertson ; one much too good to be thrown away on a 
 congregation of forty or fifty persons. The subject was the 
 revolution in Judsea, when the people required a king, being 
 tired of the theocracy, or government of the Judges. He ac- 
 counted for this offence ; and showed that the people were 
 drawn to the commission of it by the corruption of the priests 
 (who appropriated to themselves a portion of the sacrifice, — 
 the fat, — which belonged to God), the injustice of the aris- 
 tocracy, and consequent degradation of the people. All this 
 he applied to the Irish, and ascribed their peculiarly oppressed 
 condition to the English government, for enacting the penal 
 laws. The picture he drew of the poverty even of the Eng- 
 lish was very striking, and even afiecting. I was led to give 
 twice what I intended. 
 
 December 15th. — (Bury.) In the afternoon took a walk by 
 appointment with Donaldson and Donne to Horringer. A 
 most entertaining walk ; for we all three emulated each other 
 in the narration of good things, epigrams, &c. But what I 
 consider of real importance, enough certainly for a note in this 
 book, is that I consider this day as the commencement of an 
 acquaintance wiih Mr. Donne. (Cowper's mother was a Donne.) 
 The following witticism was related by the latter. Being one 
 day at Trinity College, at dinner, he was asked to write a motto 
 for the College snuff-box, which was always circulating on the 
 dinner-table. " Considering where we are," said Donne, " there 
 could be nothing better than ' Quicunque vult ! ' " 
 
1846.] DONALDSON AND DONNE. — A LIST OF CLASSICS. 349 
 
 I will add two or three anecdotes by Donaldson. Prince 
 Metternich said to Lord Dudley : ^' You are the only English- 
 man I know who speaks good French. It is remarked, the 
 common people in Vienna speak better than the educated men 
 in London." — " That may well be," replied Lord Dudley. 
 " Your Highness should recollect that Buonaparte has not been 
 twice in London to teach them." — " There is no middle 
 course," said Charles X. to Talleyrand, " between the Throne 
 and the Scaffold." — ^* Your Majesty forgets the Post-chaise." 
 A German professor gave this etymology of the terms liberales 
 and serviles among the German politicians. The one party 
 will sehr viel haben (have a great deal); the other "lieber 
 alles " (rather everything). 
 
 December 20th. — Among my brother's papers I found a MS. 
 by Capel Lofft, in these words, a very characteristic writing : 
 *^ Rousseau, Euripides, Tasso, Racine, Cicero, Virgil, Petrarch, 
 Richardson. If I had five millions of years to live upon this 
 earth, these I would read daily with increasing delight. — C. L. 
 January 4, 1807." 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Athenaeum, London, 26th December, 1846. 
 
 Though this is the season of festivity, yet you must not ex- 
 pect a gay letter, or an account of parties of pleasure. This 
 will not be a melancholy, and yet it will be a grave letter, and 
 I will give it the form of a diary, and so I shall bring in all I 
 have to tell you. 
 
 Monday. — This was not a very disastrous journey (Bury 
 to Cambridge), but still it was not one of prosperity ; Beeton 
 and the proprietor at Newmarket thought proper, in spite of 
 remonstrances, so to overload the " Cornwallis " with turkeys, 
 tfec, that the horses could not get on, and we did not reach 
 Cambridge till a quarter of an hour after the two o'clock train 
 had left. We set off again at 3 p. m. ; but as to what then 
 occurred, — are they not written in the Times newspaper of 
 the following Thursday % and would it not be a waste of good 
 paper, good ink, and a good pen, to repeat for your private ear 
 what is there recorded for the public % 
 
 Tuesday. — I called this morning at young John Walter's, 
 who has taken a house on the opposite side of Russell Square, 
 and I was induced to accept an invitation to join a family party 
 there in the afternoon. In consequence of Alsager's death, it 
 
350 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 has been necessary to make new arrangements in Printing 
 House Square. 
 
 The next day I dined alone with John Walter, Sen., and 
 his wife, in Printing House Square. I am sorry to say that 
 Mr. Walter is visited by a very alarming malady, — a swelling 
 under his chin. He has had the advice of several of the most 
 eminent surgeons. It is a favorable circumstance that his 
 sister some years back had a similar attack, and recovered 
 from it. Walter reminded me of his having known me now 
 within a few weeks of forty years, and intimated in a flatter- 
 ing way that he had had a confidence in me which he had 
 not had in any other of his numerous literary acquaintance. 
 Mrs. Walter thanked me warmly, and begged me to go and 
 dine with them in the same manner next week, which I mean 
 to do. 
 
 Walter and I are just of an age. Should this complaint 
 prove fatal, it will be another memento arising from the rapid 
 falling off of one's contemporaries. 
 
 But I will now vary with a cheerful subject this gloomy re- 
 mark. You will receive with this letter a paper signed by my 
 friend Dr. Boott, which he gave me to send to a surgeon at 
 Bury. When you have read it, I will thank you to put it un- 
 der a cover, and send it to Messrs. Smith and Wing. Assum- 
 ing, what Dr. Boott seems to have no doubt of, that the dis- 
 covery the paper gives an account of fulfils all that at the first 
 appearance it seems to promise, this discovery will be felt by 
 you, as it has been by me, to be a personal gain ; for, it would 
 seem that, by so simple an expedient as the inhaling of ether, a 
 person may be put into a state of stupor or intoxication, in which 
 the most serious, and otherwise the most painful, of operations 
 may be performed without any suffering to the patient. But 
 read the paper and then forward it. I have done wrong in 
 keeping it, for perhaps the news may have already reached 
 the members of the faculty at Bury. 
 
 Yesterday passed very agreeably. My breakfast went off 
 very well, though the omelette which my niece advised me to 
 have was a failure ; I had a partie qitarree. To meet Donald- 
 son, I had Sir Charles Fellows, the traveller, and Samuel 
 Sharpe, the historian of Egypt. Fellows and I modestly re- 
 treated, and left the field to the two scholars. 
 
 I could not bear the idea of dining at my club on Christmaa 
 day, and therefore 1 invited myself to dine with Robert Proc- 
 ter and contribute my share to the doing justice to the turkey. 
 
1847.] THE COLLIERS AND PROCTERS. — ROBERTSON. 351 
 
 which was all one could wish. We had a party of eighteen at 
 dinner, consisting of Procter and John Collier, and their wives 
 and children. 
 
 There is no family not allied to me by blood that I feel so 
 much attached to as that of the Colliers and Procters, and 
 they deserve it. John is an excellent man, an enthusiast for 
 literature. He labors for nothing, that is for no money, in the 
 Shakespeare Society, of which he is the chief. 
 
 CHAPTER XXT. 
 1847. 
 
 [During the present and following years, two subjects especially occupied 
 the time and thoughts of H. C. R. One was the foundation of some memo- 
 rial of the passing of the Dissenters' Chapels Bill. An institution for college 
 residents, which should be connected with University College, and at which 
 the free study of theology should be promoted, seemed to be a fitting memo- 
 rial of such a triumph of civil and religious liberty. On the 30th of JanuMry 
 H. C. R.'s Rydal visit was cut short in order " to join Edwin Field in a mis- 
 sion in favo/of a projected college. A whole week was spent between Liver- 
 pool, Manchester, and Birmingham." A visit to the West of England for the 
 same purpose, and in the same company, was made later in the year. H. C. U. 
 was on the committee to form and carry out the plan, and when trustees and 
 council were appointed, he was included in both. The diary frequently has 
 notes of conferences which took place. Only such extracts, however, will be 
 
 fiven as are necessary to indicate the chief steps in the progress of the scheme, 
 'he other object of especial interest was the carrying out of Miss Denman's 
 wish to have Flaxman's collected works preserved and exhibited to advantage 
 in some public building. An application was made to the government, and 
 communications took place on the subject with the Hon. Spring Rice: but the 
 project fell through. The idea of having a Flaxman Gallery at University 
 College, London, originated with H. C. R., and by his exertions chiefly, from 
 beginning to end, was carried into effect. Nor was the undertaking by any 
 mesms a light one. Before the offer to the college could be made there were 
 some legal difficulties to be overcome; and after the offer had been made and 
 accepted, a considerable sum of money — much larger than was at first ex 
 pected — had to be raised to make the necessary arrangements at the college 
 for the reception and proper exhibition of so fine a collection of art treasures. 
 Not to weary the reader with details, the extracts given in this instance also 
 will be simply such as will serve to report progress.] 
 
 JANUARY Jfth, — Robertson, my Heidelberg acquaintance, 
 . took me by surprise at breakfast. A long and pleasant 
 chat, — very pleasant indeed. He has given up his curacy 
 at Cheltenham, but not renounced the Church as a profes- 
 sion. 
 
 I had at breakfast with me F. W. Newman, Empson, Don- 
 
352 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 aldson, and Kenyon. It was one of the most agreeable break- 
 fasts I ever had. Newman I was much pleased with, and 
 proud to have at my table. He is an unaffected man, and has 
 a spirituality in his eye, which his voice and manner and con- 
 versation confirm. I feel that Donaldson and I are forming: a 
 friendship. 
 
 'o 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Rydal Mount, 23d January, 1847. 
 
 You make a little mistake in quoting what I had said as if 
 my words were that I preferred the Church to Dissenters. The 
 point is lost by this. What I meant, — and I have said the 
 same to Milman, — was, I prefer Dissent to the Church, but I 
 like Churchmen better than Dissenters, He laughed, and said, 
 " I believe that is the case with many." * I make a similar 
 distinction between the parties in the Church. I am opposed 
 to the pretensions of the High Church, but I like the Pusey- 
 ites better than the Evangelicals. In this respect also I have 
 no ^ doubt you feel as I do ; and this distinction between per- 
 sons and principles is of great moment, and very sad mistakes 
 are made when it is disregarded. We are perpetually misled 
 when we suffer our dislike to persons to influence our conduct 
 with respect to the principles which such persons profess. 
 When I say we^ I mean all men. I suspect that your dislike 
 to the low-bred Rads of Bury, and mine to the intolerant Cal- 
 vinistic Dissenters, has had somewhat more effect than it 
 ought on both of us. Cookson, Grey, and the Fletchers con- 
 stitute the liberal party here. They have had a casual rein- 
 forcement of two young clergymen of the Whately and Arnold 
 school ; one of whom has made this very remarkable declara- 
 tion, that when he was about to receive ordination be told the 
 bishop that he had difficulties. To me he made the declara- 
 tion that he did not believe in the Athanasian Creed. The 
 bishop said, he had only two questions to ask him : " Did he 
 approve of an established Church as the means of training up 
 men to be Christians ] " He did ! '^ Did he prefer any other 
 Church to the Anglican % " He did not ! '^ That was enough." 
 To this I said that I could on those terms be myself a clergy- 
 man. We Dissenters are in the habit of abusing the laxity 
 of principle that allows of this. Now, though I could not 
 
 * The saving; of Charles II., that Presbyterianism was not the religion of 
 a gentleman, has done more for the Established Church than a whole library 
 of polemical writings. — H. C. R., 1852. 
 
1847] ON HALLAM. — J. WALTER. — DR. BRABANT. 353 
 
 on such terms take orders, yet I rejoice that others can. 
 Were all men rigidly scrupulous on such points, — I mean the 
 points of heretical notions, — the Church would be filled by 
 corrupt or infatuated men, who would alike profess orthodoxy, 
 and the best men would be the most mischievous. 
 
 January 30th. — (Rydal.) I learned from that when 
 
 * took orders in the Church, he delivered into the hands- 
 
 of the bishop who ordained him a protest, declaring his dis- 
 belief in the Athanasian Creed, to which no objection was 
 taken. 
 
 This morning I had more talk with Wordsworth than on 
 any day since I came. He had his usual flow of conversation. 
 We spoke of literature. He delivered an opinion unfavorable 
 to Hallam's judgment on matters of taste and literature in his 
 great history. I have, to-day, read an equally low estimate 
 of Hallam's judgment of Martin Luther, in a note in Hare's 
 '* Mission of the Comforter." 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 25th February. 
 
 An old friend, who has had no slight effect on my course 
 of life, is now lying dangerously ill, — John Walter, the con- 
 troller rather than the proprietor of the Times, He suffers 
 under a complication of complaints. He is an amiable man. 
 I never saw any act that I could justly characterize as unprin- 
 cipled. And as to the vulgar notion of bribery, that proves 
 only a low state of moral feeling in those who, without evi- 
 dence, are so ready to account for what they disapprove of. 
 
 March 18th. — (Devizes.) Mr. Murch's introduction has 
 proved a very great pleasure, — I should say, is proving ; for 
 I am in the middle of the day, having spent a delightful morn- 
 ing, and being in expectation of an equally delightful evening. 
 That introduction was to Dr. Brabant, a retired physician. 
 After breakfasting, and taking a walk by the canal, dug since 
 my school-days, I left my letter at Dr. Brabant's. I then 
 walked to the Green, which brought to my mind seeing my 
 mother on the stage-coach in the summer of 1788, and think- 
 ing her altered, and being for a moment pained, f In my 
 
 * A gentleman who now holds a distinguished position in the Church of 
 England. 
 t See Vol. I. p. 8. 
 
 w 
 
354 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 walks about the town I did not fail to notice the old houses in 
 which Mr. Fenner and Mr. Crabb lived. Though everything 
 seemed less to my eye, they are probably even better in reality. 
 
 It was about ten when I called a second time, and introduced 
 myself to the Doctor ; with whom I have become acquainted, 
 in four hours, more intimately than with any other man in so 
 short a time. He is about sixty-six years of age, —a slight 
 anan, with a scholar-like, gentlemanly appearance, and talks 
 well. He followed my example, and gave me an account of 
 himself At fifty-six years of age he retired from his profession 
 as a physician. After that he went to Germany, having, by 
 Coleridge, been induced to study German theology. He seems 
 to have known Coleridge well. We talked freely on many in- 
 teresting subjects. Theology has been his study. In Germany 
 he became acquainted with Strauss, of whom he speaks highly. 
 
 April 7th, — A day sadly spoiled by my growing infirmity, 
 — absence of mind. After going to University College Com- 
 mittee, I went to J. Taylor's, to exchange hats, having taken 
 his last night ; but he had not mine there. I took an omni- 
 bus to Addison Road, drank tea with Paynter, and then went 
 to Taylor's to restore his hat; and then I found that I had 
 a second time blundered by bringing Paynter's old hat ; and I 
 lost an hour in going to and from Addison Road, and from and 
 to Sheffield House. Is this infirmity incurable ? I fear it is ; 
 though I record it here to assist me in becoming more on my 
 guard. It is a wise saying of Horace Walpole's, " There is 
 no use in warning a man of his folly, if you do not cure him 
 of being foolish." 
 
 April 10th. — I had a day of exertion, — I might say fa- 
 tigue. I went at ten o'clock, with Field and Davison,* to 
 Donaldson, t and we had a conference about our College 
 scheme.} Donaldson's account of the expense has, I see, a lit- 
 tle damped Davison's hopes. Nothing can extinguish Field's, 
 so sanguine is he. 
 
 A2:)ril IJfth, — Called on the Miss Aliens, and then on Mrs. 
 Coleridge, with whom I had a long chat about her father's 
 poetry, philosophy, (fee. Read Green's recent Hunterian Oration, 
 which has been so much admired for its eloquence, and which is 
 a more luminous exposition of some of Coleridge's principles than 
 has been yet given to the world. I have been writing to Green 
 
 * Translator of Schlosser's " History of the Eighteenth Century." 
 t Professor of Architecture at University College. 
 % Scheme of building University Hall. 
 
1847.] FLAXMAN GALLERY. — MARY LAMB'S FUNERAL. 355 
 
 to-day, congratulating him on the work, and the prospect of 
 pubHc opinion in favor of the Master's notions. 
 
 April 26th. — I went early to Wordsworth, at his nephew's, 
 in the West Cloisters, and sat with him while young Wyon 
 took a model of his head, for a bas-relief medallion. 
 
 May 16th. — My brothers were together great part of the 
 day. They are both old men in appearance, but Hab looks 
 the oldest. What strangers may think of me, in company 
 with them, I cannot tell. Our united ages are 225 years, viz. 
 77, 76, 72, — an unusual family life. 
 
 May 25th. — This day devoted entirely to Miss Denman's 
 sad affair with her brother's creditors. I early received a 
 note from her, stating that Flaxman's casts, &c., must all be 
 sold. I went to her, and found her in a state of great distress. 
 On this I accompanied Captain Sinclair to Erskine Forbes. I 
 then went to Edwin Field, who took up Miss Denman's case 
 with warmth. He took me to Mr. Bacon,* Q. C, who, as well 
 as Field himself, from pure love of fine art, will, without fee 
 or reward, do all that can be done for Miss Denman, or rather 
 to preserve Flaxman's works for the public. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 29th May, 1847. 
 
 Yesterday was a painfully interesting day. I attended the 
 funeral of Mary Lamb. At nine a coach fetched me. We 
 drove to her dwelling, at St. John's Wood, from whence two 
 coaches accompanied the body to Enfield, across a pretty 
 country ; but the heat of the day rendered the drive oppres- 
 sive. We took refreshment at the house where dear Charles 
 Lamb died, and were then driven to our homes. I was fatigued 
 and glad to rest before going to a feast. The attendant 
 rrtourners (a most unsuitable word, for we all felt that her 
 departure was a relief to herself and friends) were, — 1, Tal- 
 fourd; 2, Ryal and Arnold (East India clerks), Charles Lamb's 
 two executors ; 3, Moxon, whose wife is residuary legatee of 
 the property, which will consist of a few hundreds, perhaps a 
 thousand pounds ; and 4, H. C. R. (we four occupied the first 
 carriage) ; 5, Martin Burney, a very old friend ; 6, Forster, the 
 clever writer of the critical articles in the Examiner^ and au- 
 thor of "- The Lives of Cromwell and other Republican Heroes 
 of the Seventeenth Century " ; 7, Allsop, author of two vol- 
 
 * Now Commissioner of Bankrupts. 
 
356 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 umes on Coleridge, an old crony of S. T. Coleridge and Charles 
 Lamb, — a worthy enthusiast and injudicious writer. The 
 eighth place was intended for Procter, alias BaiTy Cornwall, 
 but he failed to attend. His place was filled by a person I 
 never saw before, an uninvited guest, — Moxhay, the person 
 who has built the Commercial Hall near the Bank, an institu- 
 tion I have not space to write about. There was no sadness 
 assumed by the attendants, but we all talked with warm affec- 
 tion of dear Mary Lamb, and that most delightful of creatures, 
 her brother Charles, — of all the men of genius I ever knew 
 the one the most intensely and universally to be loved. 
 
 Mrs. Arnold to H. C. R. 
 
 June 1st. 
 
 Dear Mr. Wordsworth comes forth occasionally to see his old 
 friends, and yesterday morning, when I saw him slowly and 
 sadly approaching by our birch-tree, I hastened to meet him, 
 and found that he would prefer walking with me around our 
 garden boundary to entering the house and encountering a 
 larger party. So we wandered about here, and then I accom- 
 panied him to Rydal, and he walked back again with me, 
 through the great field, as you can so well picture to yourself 
 This quiet intercourse gave me an opportunity of seeing how 
 entirely our dear friends are prepared to bow with submission 
 to God's will. No one can tell better than yourself how much 
 they will feel it, for you have had full opportunities of seeing 
 how completely Dora was the joy and sunshine of their lives ; 
 but, by her own composure and cheerful submission and will- 
 ingness to relinquish all earthly hopes and possessions, she is 
 teaching them to bear the greatest sorrow which could have 
 befallen them. 
 
 June 5th. — Denman's bankruptcy case came on before Com- 
 missioner Goulburn. Field there. It was agreed that the 
 casts, moulds, &c. should be delivered up to Miss Denman on 
 the payment of £120 (or £130) to the official assignee, to 
 abide the decision of the Commissioner. I paid the money. 
 The official assignee behaved very kindly, said he thought the 
 question of law very doubtful, and that the creditors would be 
 well off if they got £120. 
 
 June 10th. — Had a call from Watson,^ the sculptor, about 
 
 * Watson'* statue of Flaxman is now at the entrance of the Flaxman 
 Gallery. 
 
1847.] ON THE LAKE-POETS AND LAMB. .357 
 
 Miss Denman's casts. I went with him to University College, 
 and show^ed him the things there. He is a zealous admirer of 
 Flaxman, and has made a statue of him, and would be glad to 
 have it placed with the works of the master. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R 
 
 18th June, 1847. 
 .... I have spent more time than usual in reading at the 
 Athenseum ; and the book which is now interesting me is Mrs. 
 Coleridge's new edition of her father's "Biographia Literaria." 
 It has many additions, and is well worth reading by all the ad- 
 mirers of Colerido'e and Wordsworth. Whoever admires one 
 admires both. The criticism on Wordsworth's style is elabo- 
 rate, and by no means unqualifiedly in favor of the poet ; but it 
 is, in the main, just. ^ Coleridge and Wordsworth ought never 
 to have been coupled in a class as Lake-poets. They are great 
 poets of a very distinct, and even opposite, character. Southey, 
 as a poet, w^as far below them both. Lamb had more genius 
 than Southey, and, as a prose-writer, was even superior to the 
 two great poets ; for he wrote three styles, or rather, as I 
 heard Dr. Aikin say, he excelled equally in the pathetic, the 
 humorous, and the argumentative. Of that knot of great men 
 only Wordsworth lingers, and he will not attempt to write any 
 more. But there is an unpublished poem of great value. 
 
 June 19th, — Talking of Archdeacon Hare, Mrs. T , in 
 
 answer to my remark that he is prone to idolatry, said : "0 
 yes ; he acknowledges that. He says he has five Popes, — 
 Wordsw^orth, Niebuhr, Bunsen, F. Maurice, and Archdeacon 
 Manning." But how when the Popes disagree ] 
 
 June 30th. — The most interesting occurrence of the day was 
 one not looked for : I had an intimation that Mr. Walter was 
 willing to see me. I called at John Walter's, and accompanied 
 him to Printing House Square ; and there I saw my poor old 
 friend on a sofa in the drawing-room, his voice inarticulate, Mrs. 
 Walter repeating what he said. He wished me to speak w4th 
 Mrs. Walter, so that he could hear. He said he did not feel 
 devout enough ; my answ^er was that his fear proved him to be 
 devout. I did not stay many minutes. I have a satisfaction in 
 having had this kind leave-taking, for I have a very finendly feel- 
 ing towards him, — indeed, towards the whole fiimily. Went to 
 a ITon-con. meeting, held at the Star and Garter. It was a thin 
 
358 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 meeting, — ten members and four visitors, — but it was agree- 
 able. Madge was in the chair ; he said but little, but that little 
 was good. E. Taylor brought with him the German composer, 
 Spohr, — a burly man in appearance, but his conversation was 
 lively, and he professed liberal principles. 
 
 July IsL — By eleven I was at Dr. Williams's Library, where 
 a meeting was held of the subscribers to the proposed College, 
 which takes the name of University Hall. The meeting was a 
 successful one, inasmuch as all the resolutions proposed were in 
 substance adopted, and there was very little speechifying. The 
 actual subscriptions were announced to be eight thousand three 
 or four hundred pounds. A council nominated, and trustees 
 appointed for receiving subscriptions and buying land. I am 
 both a trustee and in the council. 
 
 July 10th, — This morning I received a short note from Quil- 
 linan, dated yesterday : "At one a. m. my precious Dora — 
 your true friend — breathed her last." Hardly a word more. 
 
 July 15th. — I was gratified by a call from J. E. Taylor, 
 who brought with him the Danish romance-writer, Hans 
 Christian Andersen, to see my Wieland. 
 
 July 19th. — Between two and three at Field's, where we 
 were till six. An important meeting. We signed the con- 
 tracts with the Duke of Bedford and the builder, for the hiring 
 of the land (in Gordon Square) and erecting the University 
 Hall. The signers were Mark Phillips, James Heywood, M. P., 
 myself, James Yates, Le Breton, Busk, Cookson, E. Field, &c. 
 
 July SOth. — Read in the Times a long eulogy of my friend 
 John Walter, who died on the preceding day. The article was 
 eloquently written ; with some exaggeration in the tone, par- 
 donable on the occasion ; but not widely deviating from strict 
 truth. The topics were judiciously chosen ; his integrity 
 affirmed ; his humanity eulogized ; his active energy not un- 
 justly represented to have been the source of the unexampled 
 prosperity of the concern. Neither his age, nor any of the 
 ordinary details of a life, mentioned. I certiiinly would add 
 my testimony to his sincerity and his benevolence. 
 
 August 22iL — (Bury.) After dining with my brother, I took 
 a long walk with Donaldson and Donne : they are two capital 
 talkers, both scholars and Liberals. One mot Donaldson re- 
 peated, which I recollect. Some one peevishly complaining, 
 "You take the words out of my mouth," Donaldson replied, 
 *' You are very hard to please ; would yo\i have liked it better 
 if I had made you swallow them ] " 
 
1847.] LAMB'S NEW VOLUME OF LETTERS. 359, 
 
 Sej^temher 30th, — I walked from Kew to Mortlake, where I 
 found Miss Fenwick half expecting me. I dined with her and 
 Mi's. Henry Taylor, and had a very interesting chat with her, 
 partly a tete-a-tete. She spoke with great kindness of Mr. 
 Quillinan, to whom she is going to give the notes on Words- 
 worth's poems which he dictated to her, for she had promised 
 them to Mrs. QuilUnan. 
 
 October ScL — Heard an excellent sermon from Madge. It 
 was the more remarkable to me, because the sermon was the 
 expansion of a thought which I had extracted from Bunsen, so 
 well expressed and so significant that it deserves to become an 
 axiom : *' Let it never be forgotten that Christianity is not 
 thought y hut action ; not a system, hut a life^ 
 
 H. C. E. TO T. R. 
 
 October 14, 1847. 
 
 .... I have been closeted with Sergeant Talfourd, both 
 yestei'day and to-day, preparatory to his bringing out a new 
 volume of Lamb's letters. They will include those he wrote 
 to Coleridge, both before and after the dreadful act of his sis- 
 ter's killing his mother. They will enhance our admiration 
 and love of the man. It appears, from these letters, that 
 Lamb was himself once in confinement for insanity, which last- 
 ed a few weeks. Talfourd has doubted whether it is right to 
 give publicity to these letters. I have given a strong affirma- 
 tive opinion, and I have no doubt they will soon appear. 
 
 October 20th, — Met to-day my Heidelberg acquaintance, 
 Mr. F. Robertson, and had a most interesting chat. He is as 
 liberal as ever, and has already made himself popular ; but he 
 has become the object of denunciation by the High Church 
 party. He told me of his having been engaged to preach at a 
 church at Oxford ; but having the offer of a chapel at Brighton, 
 he, with permission of the Bishop, gave up his Oxford incum- 
 bency. The Bishop acted liberally in regard to the Oxford 
 church. Before undertaking it, Robertson frankly told him 
 his views on the question of baptism, and the Bishop took no 
 umbrage, but said he liked a difference of opinion on some 
 points. 
 
 October 21st. — I had a letter from Edwin Field, informing 
 me that he had succeeded in buying off the claim of Denman's 
 creditors to Flaxman's works. The sum to be paid £50. This 
 I think an admirable compromise, and I did not grudge paying 
 
360 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 for it £ 6 to the official assignee. I wrote to Field, to thank 
 him for his successful exertions. 
 
 October 24th. — I had this morning a letter from Miss Den- 
 man. She is almost out of herself with joy at the idea of having 
 her casts, (fee. taken by the University College, which I told 
 her I would endeavor to effect. 
 
 H. C. E. TO T. R. 
 10 Western Cottages, Brighton, 22d October. 
 
 .... Your letter was not written in your usual good 
 
 spirits There is no arguing against low spirits. They 
 
 are very illogical, and never listen to reason ; so you must e'en 
 let them have their way ; that is, you must not scold, or bully 
 them ; there is no use in that. The best thing is to laugh 
 them out of countenance ; but then that 's not my forte, as you 
 once said of my forensic exertions : ^' Henry, you are always 
 as unsuccessful when you are jocular as Storks is when he is 
 serious." Not that I perfectly assented to your criticism. 
 What poet, or orator, ever did to censure of any kind] .... 
 
 It gives me pleasure to hear that Mrs. Clarkson is in such 
 good spirits. We must not forget that good spirits are a better 
 test of health than low spirits are of illness. There is frequent- 
 ly a low state of the spirits, without a really bad state of 
 health ; but good spirits — different from hysterical high 
 spirits — are a sign of health not to be disregarded. 
 
 23d October. 
 .... The only incident belonging properly to Brighton has 
 been my finding settled here, as incumbent of one of the 
 Chapels of Ease, the Mr. Robertson of whom you will find an 
 account in my letters written from Heidelberg when I was last 
 there, — the eloquent preacher, who delivered a remarkable 
 discourse in favor of the Irish. He is a most liberal man ; so 
 liberal that I must apply to him the words he has used of Dr. 
 Channing, of whose writings he is a great admirer : " I wonder 
 how he can believe so much, and not believe more " ; only sub- 
 stituting " disbelieve " or " doubt " for " believe." I repeated 
 to him yesterday words which I had uttered to Dr. Arnold : 
 " I am as convinced as a man can be on any matter of specula- 
 tion, that the orthodox doctrines, as valfjarlif understood, are 
 false ; but I have never ventured to deny that possibly there 
 is an important truth at the bottom of every one of those doc- 
 
1847.] GARRISON. — F. W. ROBERTSON. 361 
 
 trines of which they are a misrepresentation." He interposed 
 between the first and second part of this assertion, '' And so 
 am I " ; and he said nothing when I conchided. He might 
 have said, and I am perplexed that he did not : " I go further 
 than saying it is possible ; I have no doubt that they are all 
 substantially true " ; but he did not. This Robertson has al- 
 ready made a sensation, and is popular. He says his popular- 
 ity cannot last. He has already driven away some High 
 Church ladies, — no men, — and he preached last Sunday in 
 favor of the Irish, and against the Protestant English, in a 
 way that must have given great offence. He will be a power- 
 ful rival to Sortaine.* 
 
 Mr. Estlin to H. C. R. f 
 
 Bristol, October 27, 1847. 
 .... I am very glad to learn from you Dr. Boott's opin- 
 ion upon the slavery question. In the infallibiliti/ of Mr. 
 Garrison's judgment I certainly do not place full confidence, 
 but unlimited in his singleness of purpose, his noble disinterest- 
 edness and his indefatigable zeal in the anti-slavery cause. I 
 am, however, compelled to confess that, as regards his judgment 
 on this subject, what he has effected by his fifteen years of 
 labor ought to plead for his wisdom ; and those friends who 
 have longest and most minutely watched his course are very 
 accordant in their decision that his views have evidenced a pro- 
 phetic sagacity 
 
 H. C. R. to T. R. 
 
 28th October, 1847. 
 On Sunday I heard Mr. Robertson preach, and I was very 
 much pleased with him. He has raised quite a religious tu- 
 mult here. He is fully aware that his Liberalism will make 
 many enemies ; but he ought to rely on it, that for every 
 enemy so raised he will gain two friends. His eloquence is 
 such as to seduce a large class who will be neutral on all points 
 of doctrine that require consideration and intelligence. He 
 has been several times to see me, and there is no abatement of 
 his cordiality. 
 
 * A very popular and eloquent preacher in Lady Huntingdon's Chapel at 
 Brighton. 
 
 t On the outside of this letter H. C. R. has written: " One of the best of 
 the Abolitionists, being a very able surgeon, besides an exemplary man in dis- 
 charge of the common duties" of life as well as the special obligations imposed 
 by the possession of superior abilities in public matters. Son of Dr. Estlin, of 
 Bristol, a Unitarian minister." 
 
 VOL. II. 16 
 
362 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 5th November, 1847. 
 
 On Tuesday there dined at Masquerier's a clergyman, a man 
 of family and fortune. He was connected with old Plumer, 
 the Herts M. P., whom he visited as a boy, when he played 
 with Charles Lamb, whose grandmother was the housekeeper.* 
 I found him familiar with the name of Fordham, as that of a 
 large Whig family, and in coimection with one of whom he 
 related a good electioneering anecdote. There was a Fordham 
 who kept a shop, and who, being canvassed, stiffly refused his 
 vote. And why] " Because you voted against the Repeal of 
 the Corporation and Test Acts." It happened there was 
 standing in the shop a journeyman with a pimply nose. 
 Plumer called to him: *'How long have you been here 1" — 
 " More than twenty years ! " — '' Tell me, don't you like a 
 dropT' — '*0 yes!" — ''And every now and then take a 
 little more than is quite prudent V — "0 yes, now and then ! " 
 — " See, now," cried out Plumer, '' how much better your 
 master treats you than he does me ; he has kept you for 
 twenty years w^ho every now and then have done what you 
 ought not, and he turns me off .for a single fault!" The 
 appeal with either its equity or its humor was successful, and 
 Plumer got forgiveness from the Non-con. My other acquaint- 
 ance at Brighton you already have heard enough of. By far 
 the most remarkable is the Mr. Robertson I have alreadv 
 named to you. Who would credit such a thing of me 1 — I 
 heard three sermons last Sunday ! ! ! I went in the evening 
 to hear Sortaine. In the morning and afternoon I stood in the 
 gallery of Robertson's church. 
 
 The morning discourse was one of the best I ever heard. It 
 was on the deterioration of character, evidenced in the life of 
 Saul, and excellently developed. His showy and popular 
 virtues, which made him the people's favorite at first, had not 
 their origin in any genuine and pure motive, and therefore 
 they all left him. It was delivered without any apparent note, 
 and was full of striking thoughts. The afternoon sermon w^as 
 on the Prodigal Son. A good sermon, but in every respect 
 inferior to that of the morning. I have, as emphatically as I 
 could, advised him to adopt the practice of writing his second 
 sermon ; on the gi'ound chiefly that otherwise he will 
 again contract a serious illness from over-labor, and also 
 
 * See " Blakesmoor in H shire,'* in the " Last Essays of Elia." 
 
1847.] FLAXMAN GALLERY AGREED ON. 363 
 
 because he must not neglect the power of composing with 
 rigid propriety, in conformity with the rules of art, while he 
 cultivates that of immediate composition without the aid of 
 pen. 
 
 November 6th. — I attended a University College council 
 meeting. The Flaxman remains were mentioned by others, 
 and I was therefore led to speak of Miss Denman's intended 
 gift. There was but one opinion as to the value of the works. 
 
 November 17th, — I attended a University College Commit- 
 tee this morning, and there presented Miss Denman's letter, 
 offering to the College Flaxman's works in sculpture, which 
 we had agreed on. The offer was well received by the Com- 
 mittee. 
 
 November 18th. — I found occupation in the forenoon, in 
 putting papers in order and in drawing up resolutions of the 
 council accepting Miss Denman's gifc. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 20th November, 1847. 
 
 .... On Wednesday I carried to the University College 
 Committee a letter from Miss Denman, making an absolute 
 gift of Flaxman's works to the College, imposing no condition ; 
 though, as she states that her object is the preservation ot 
 these works, and the keeping them together, an implied con- 
 dition arises of carrying out this intention to the best of the 
 power possessed by the College 
 
 I breakfasted yesterday with Sam Rogers, who has promised 
 to be with me at two to-day, in order to see the works, as they 
 are now ivarehoused in the College, that he may give an opinion 
 how this warehouse may be converted into a gallery of exhibi- 
 tion. This done, our next and final step will be to raise, by 
 subscription, the sum requisite for adapting the apartments to 
 the reception of the works, and repairing them to be fit for 
 the rooms. 
 
 On Thursday I attended the other body of functionaries of 
 the College, that is, the Senate, being the Professors. You 
 know that the Senate cannot legally meet but under the presi- 
 dency of a member of Council. I am the first Vice-Presi- 
 dent nominated by the President, who, now that he is a mem- 
 ber of the Cabinet, very seldom attends. I was detained late, 
 and, as on this day the Professors dined together in the Coun- 
 
364 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 21. 
 
 cil-room, I invited myself to be of the party, though not as a 
 guest. We had a very pleasant day. Our Vice-President was 
 Dr. A. Todd Thompson, whom Sarah knows, the President be- 
 ing Newman,* whose lecture you read and liked. 
 
 One day recently I dined with Kenyon. A jpartie qtiarree 
 more agTeeable than one larger or more genteel. Moxon and 
 Hall, the Librarian of the Athenaeum, w^ere our companions. 
 One mot was reported, so significant that I think it worth re- 
 peating. Some one at a party abusing Mahometanism in a 
 commonplace way, said : "Its heaven is quite material." 
 He was met with the quiet remark, " So is the Christian's 
 hell " ; to which there w^as no reply. 
 
 November 20th. — Attended a Council meeting at University 
 College, with draft resolutions about the Flaxman works. The 
 vote accepting the works passed without opposition, and the 
 resolutions also, except that a few passages were struck out, 
 and verbal alterations made, w^hich I quite approved of. The 
 business went off to my satisfaction. After taking a hasty din- 
 ner at home, I went to Miss Denman to inform her of the 
 proceedings, and she was delighted. But I am afraid I shall 
 have some difficulty in raising the money (i. e. for adapting the 
 College to the reception of the works). 
 
 November 2Jfth, — I went early to Lord Brougham, and told 
 him the history of the Flaxman remains, and Miss Denman's 
 exertions to have them duly preserved. He expressed a strong 
 feeling about these works, and the value they would be to the 
 College. He signed the resolutions. 
 
 November 30th. — Went with E. Field to Miss Denman's to 
 tea, and there, with Atkinson, f we had a very pleasant even- 
 ing in looking over Flaxman's drawings, and the casts, &c., in 
 the house. I need not say that both Field and Atkinson had 
 great enjoyment. At the same time we had a talk about the 
 future work of putting up in the University College the things 
 already given to the College, which is to be our immediate 
 business, if possible. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Rydal Mount, December 31, 1847. 
 I have to state to you a fact w^hich is worth knowing. Miss 
 Arnold tells me that Madame Bunsen assured her that the 
 
 * F. W. Newman. t Secretary to the College. 
 
1847.] DR. HAMPDEN. — A PAMPHLET SOCIETY. 365 
 
 Archbishop had distinctly told her that he had read the 
 Bamptoii Lectures, in consequence of the charge against Dr. 
 Hampden, and that he had found no heterodoxy in them. He 
 foimd only a good deal of charity, and he did not think that 
 could do a great deal of harm. Now, if you compare this 
 anecdote with what the Dean stated to the Chapter, that he 
 knew the Archbishop had written a remonstrance against the 
 appointment, you will find there is no inconsistency w^hatever.* 
 The Archbishop might very well say : '^ I see no heterodoxy, 
 and I do not approve of the charge, which may have its source 
 in party spirit ; but still there is a charge brought by a very 
 powerful body in the Church, and it is very indiscreet to make 
 enemies of so pugnacious a set as the High Church clergy have 
 in all ages show^n themselves to be." 
 
 The Dean was very manifestly wrong in considering a re- 
 monstrance as equivalent to a protest. They are obviously 
 very different in their character. You will have seen in the 
 papers, that more than 700 members of Convocation have ad- 
 dressed Dr. Hampden very respectfully. And Julius Hare, 
 Archdeacon of Surrey, has written a pamphlet in his favor, 
 which I am in the midst of, and only laid down to write to 
 you. It is admirable ! 
 
 By the by, there is nothing of which you stand more in need 
 at Bury than a pamphlet society. Pamphlets are things of the 
 day, of the greatest interest at the moment, and yet of so 
 transient an interest that one does not like to encumber him- 
 self with them. I think you might have a circulating sub- 
 scription pamphlet society, not extending to books, which the 
 public library may supply. When at Bury I will mention this 
 to Donaldson and Donne. 
 
 If there must be an absolute power somewhere, I would 
 much rather it should be in the King's Ministers than in the 
 clergy or Churchmen (commonly, by a mischievous misnomer, 
 called the Church), 
 
 We have more to fear for the liberties of the country from 
 the clergy (and the more pious they may be in their habits, 
 and the more orthodox in their pretensions, the more danger- 
 ous they are) than fi'om any other body in the community. 
 
 * Dr. Hampden, whose appointment to the Bishopric of Hereford, at this 
 time, met with the disapproval of a considerable party in the Church. The 
 greater part of the episcopal bench joined in a remonstrance against it, and 
 Dr. Mere wether, the Dean of Hereford, went so far as to memorialize the 
 Queen against it, and even to vote against him in the Chapter; but he after- 
 wards withdrew his opposition. 
 
366 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 What a blessing it is that there should be such a schism in the 
 Church as to neutralize their efforts at dominion ! You will, 
 of course, understand that, when thus characterizing the 
 clergy, I would comprehend among them the leaders of the 
 Scottish Free Church, and give a prominent place to Jabez 
 Bunting and other Methodistic and Congregational leaders. 
 
 [The visit to Eydal this Christmas was a melancholy one. 
 Mrs. Wordsworth was anxious that it should not be omitted, 
 as she hoped it might have a cheering effect. At th^' Birth- 
 wait e platform, H. C. B. fell over the side of a turn-table and 
 was stunned, but suffered no serious injury. The poet seemed 
 hardly able to bear the society even of those friends of whom 
 he was most fond. One brief extract, showing James as a 
 comforter, is all that will be given from the journal.] 
 
 January 8th, — I rose early and packed my things, before 
 James brought me the hot water. Talked with him about his 
 master's grief. James said: ''It's very sad, sir. He was 
 moaning about her, and said, ' 0, but she was such a bright 
 creature.' And I said : ' But don't you think, sir, that she is 
 brighter now than she ever was 1 ' And then master burst 
 into tears." Was a better word ever said on such an occasion? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 1848. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Wordsworth. 
 
 30 Russell Square, London, loth January, 1848, a. m. 
 
 I AM in a strait. I must either suffer the whole week to 
 elapse without writing at all, and you to suppose that 
 there is something wrong at all events, either in what has oc- 
 curred to me, or in me, or I must hastily write a few lines in 
 bed ; for I must instantly set out on a melancholy journey, to 
 attend the funeral of one of the oldest of my friends, whose 
 name may possibly be recollected by you, William Pattisson of 
 Witham. He was of my own age, an amiable man, and my 
 attached friend ; he was the father of the bridegroom who, 
 with his bride, met with the sad accident in the Pyrenees on 
 their wedding tour. 
 
1848.] CONSECRATION 0*:" DR. HAMPDEN. 367 
 
 It will give me pleasure to learn that your son William, and 
 his wife, have been able to communicate some cheerfulness to 
 your sad abode. It quite vexed me, I came away without any 
 leave taken of you, and from Mr. Wordsworth with one of 
 tears, not words. Let us hope^that the strong nature which 
 Providence has blessed him with, both in his body and mind, 
 will enable him to endure an infliction imposed on him by a 
 Being he equally loves and venerates. 
 
 I have not heard what the Londoners say on the Hampden 
 farce ; but the last act I read a report of, by the actual con- 
 firmation in Bow Church. I have seen Murray, the Bishop's 
 secretary : he was present. The scene was quite ludicrous. 
 After the judge had told the opposers that he could not hear 
 them, the citation for opposers to come forward was repeated, 
 at which the people present laughed out, as at a play. 
 
 And this is the legal system which we Dissenters are re- 
 proached for attempting to reform : at all events, such mon- 
 strous absurdities can be no longer endured. The Times speaks 
 of Dr. Hampden's '' mission to expose the Church." But 
 surely exposure is the necessary step to reform. 
 
 January 2Jfih. — I went early to Talfourd's, w^here was a 
 party, not large, but including Lord Campbell, Kelly, and 
 Storks, who were met to see a performance of " Ion." A neat 
 little theatre was formed in the large drawing-room. Tal- 
 fourd's eldest son played Ion with a good deal of grace, and 
 one Brandreth played the King very well indeed. Afterwards 
 a '' Macbeth " travesty was performed. The same Brandreth 
 played Macbeth, and made good fun of the character. Tal- 
 fourd, Jun., played Lady Macbeth. 
 
 February 5th. — Called on Talfourd, and gave him all those 
 letters of Lamb to Wordsworth, (fee, which I thought might 
 without giving offence be printed. I found Talfourd at work 
 on Lamb's papers, and I believe he will complete his pub- 
 lication of Lamb's letters with the love with which he began 
 it. 
 
 February 8th. — Had at breakfast with me Professor New- 
 man, James Hey wood, and Edwin Field. They came to talk 
 about our proposed University Hall. We obtained from New- 
 man the declaration that he was willing to accept the office 
 of Principal of the Hall, discharging as such the duties of a 
 tutor at Oxford or Cambridge. He would require a dwelling- 
 house. 
 
368 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R 
 
 February 12, 1848. 
 
 . • . . Lately hearing a young man declaim very vehe- 
 mently in favor of liberal notions, uttering all the common- 
 places of the day, and he appealing to me, I quietly said, " I 
 should have thought so fifty years ago, and I like you the bet- 
 ter for not thinking as I do now " ; and I evaded further ex- 
 planation. 
 
 You and I must both smile and sigh, when we recollect with 
 what ardor we looked forward in our youth to the great bless- 
 ing that was about to be showered upon mankind by means of 
 the free States of America, — glorious and happy land, with- 
 out kings and lords and prelates, — the curses of mankind ! 
 A new era was to commence, — perfect equality and peace and 
 justice. " Let thy servant depart in peace, for he has seen 
 thy salvation." Then the next glorious event was the French 
 Revolution; which made me blush for being an Englishman, 
 in the face of an enlightened and wise nation, above all our 
 vulgar and brutalizing superstitions, social, political, and re- 
 ligious. I do not view the relative character of the English- 
 man and Frenchman as I did fifty years ago ; and yet I am 
 not so old, after all, as to be entirely without hope that the 
 apparently approaching crisis in the South and West of Europe 
 may have a favorable issue. It may end well (I can use only 
 the optative mood) : I am by no means sure that it will. If 
 Austria and France should dare to combine their forces, I fear 
 England, Prussia, and Russia would look on, and lauser faire. 
 But Austria may he deterred by the fear that the people of all 
 Italy would be united against them ; and that Hungary and 
 Bohemia would avail themselves of the opportunity to reassert 
 their claims. France may be deterred by the universal un- 
 popularity of the King, and the fear that the army would not 
 be stanch ; Prussia might not be sorry to see her old rival dis- 
 membered ; and Russia might think it prudent to leave the 
 distant states to themselves, and attend to Turkey. Our 
 Ministry would, I hope, be prudent enough to keep aloof; and 
 they would have good reason, being assured that, in case of a 
 war, Ireland would be in immediate rebellion. 
 
 There 's a dish of politics for you, all arising out of a rather 
 low-spirited old-man-ish view of human life and society. 
 
 Fehriiary 25th. — At the Athenaeum, I found political ex- 
 
1848.] AFFAIRS ON THE CONTINENT. 369 
 
 citement stronger than any I have witnessed for years. Yes- 
 terday it was known that Guizot had resigned. To-day the 
 report was general, and affirmed in a third edition of the 
 Chronicle, but not in the Times, that Louis Philippe had abdi- 
 cated ; and there were various other reports, not worth re- 
 peating. 
 
 February 28th. — During all this day the French Revolution 
 has nearly monopolized my attention. The Moniteur of the 
 day announces all the proceedings of the Provisional Govern- 
 ment as in the name of the Eepuhlique FraiK^aise, and the nar- 
 rative of the last day of the Chamber of Deputies reads like 
 a continuation of the proceedings of the National Convention, 
 as if fifty years were annihilated. It seems that the late 
 nomination of the Provisional Government was the work of 
 the mob. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Wordsworth. 
 
 7th March, 1848. 
 
 You are not to expect any news of to-day, in the stricter 
 sense of the word ; for I am not aware that this day's post 
 brings any new fact of importance. But the present state of 
 things on the Continent is tremendous. I may partake too 
 largely of the cowardice of old age ; but I cannot without 
 intense anxiety look forward to what is likely to occur. Yet 
 it is not a fear altogether, without an accompanying hope. It 
 does seem that the great powers of the Continent have learnt 
 this lesson, — that they wiU not attack France ; which, in 
 case of attack, would be united as one man. The difficulty 
 will be to keep the French people from attacking the other 
 states. As far as I can learn from several acquaintances, 
 who allege a personal knowledge of the members of the Pro- 
 visional Government, they are not had men. In their per- 
 sonal character, they are respectable ; that is,' they are honest 
 men. That may be true ; but they may not therefore be the 
 less dangerous. A fanatic, both in religion and politics, may 
 be the more dangerous on account of the perfect integrity of 
 his character, and the purity of his motives. In all these 
 cases, as Goethe says of speculative theology, " The poison 
 and the antidote are so much alike, that it is not easy to distin- 
 guish them." 
 
 I recollect once hearing Mr. Wordsworth say, half in joke, 
 half in earnest : "I have no respect whatever for Whigs, but 
 I have a great deal of the Chartist in me." To be sure he has. 
 16* 
 
370 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 His earlier poems are full of that intense love of the people, 
 as such, which becomes Chartism when the attempt is formally 
 made to make their interests the especial object of legisla- 
 tion, as of deeper importance than the positive rights hith- 
 erto accorded to the privileged orders 
 
 March 12th, — I heard two sermons by my acquaintance, 
 Mr. Robertison. The one in the morning was on the Tempta- 
 tion in the Wilderness. It was admirably practical. He held 
 the Temptation to be a vision addressed to Christ's inner, not 
 his external sense. His doctrine is substantially that of 
 Hugh Farmer. As he expressed a wish to see that discourse, 
 T have sent him that and the one on the Demoniacs, as well 
 as Madge's two sermons on the Union of Christ with God. 
 Robertson unites a very wide liberality in speculation with 
 warm piety and devotional eloquence. He is very popular. 
 His second sermon, being one of a series on the life of Samuel, 
 was on the abdication of his government, and consequent 
 choice of a king. Very decorously, and in a highly religious 
 tone, he alluded to the abdication which still fills us with 
 anxiety, and spoke of it with great earnestness, and with ar- 
 dent Christian aspirations for liberty and peace and order. 
 In this sermon he exhorted the rich and great to the discharge 
 of their duties towards the lower orders. And I have no 
 doubt that many thought he went too far ; but I thought his 
 sermon excellent, though not like that of the morning in fe- 
 licity of application and in power of expression. I spoke to 
 him in the vestry, and accepted his invitation to take tea with 
 him. I had a very agreeable chat, both with him and Mrs. 
 Robertson. I thought him looking thin, and again m^ged him 
 to spare his strength, in which Mrs. Robertson joined. He is 
 still very popular, and as liberal as ever. 
 
 March 15th. — The interesting call of the day was on Bun- 
 sen, who received me most kindly, and expects me in future 
 to attend Madame Bunsen's Tuesday evening soirees. He 
 quite comforted me by the assurance that Germany is in a 
 healthy state as respects reform and revolution, — that there 
 is no disposition to unite with France, but a strong determina- 
 tion to have political reforms. It is a pity that princes do 
 not concede till the concessions are demanded by the masses. 
 When the people demand no more than what is right, one 
 cannot blame them. 
 
 March 22(1. — In the evening at Madame Bunsen's first 
 
1848.] EMERSON IN ENGLAND. 371 
 
 soiree, I got into a disagreeable talk with an American, 
 whom I left abruptly, because, in defence of slavery, he spoke 
 of " Our Saviour." On this I bolted, saying, " There is no 
 use continuing the subject " ; and 1 added, loud enough, I fear, 
 to be heard, " This is disgusting." 
 
 March 26th. — I breakfasted with Rogers, and met there, by 
 my introduction, Layard, and also Moxon and Carrick, who 
 has been making the most striking likeness 1 have yet seen of 
 Wordsworth, — a miniature fuU-lenglh ; but it is too sad in 
 expression. 
 
 March SOth. — I found " The Life of Erskine " one of the 
 most agreeable of Campbell's lives, because it brought to my 
 recollection my early admiration of that wonderful creature 
 who shared my love with Mrs. Siddons. 
 
 H. C. E. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 22d April, 1848. 
 
 .... It was with a feeling of predetermined dislike that I 
 had the curiosity to look at Emerson at Lord Northampton's, a 
 fortnight ago ; when, in an instant, all my dislike vanished. He 
 has one of the most interesting countenances I ever beheld, — 
 a combination of intelligence and sweetness that quite disarmed 
 me. I was introduced to him 
 
 May 2d. — I dined at the anniversary dinner of the Anti- 
 quarian Society. I, took Emerson with me, and found he was 
 known by name. I introduced him to Sir Robert Ingiis, and 
 afterwards to Lord Mahon. The evening passed off with great 
 cordiality. There was mention of Amyot's retirement fi'om 
 the Vice-Presidentship. When, therefore, the Vice-President's 
 health was given, I rose to respond, and, saying I had been his 
 friend fifty-two years, delivered a short eulogy on him. Collier 
 took the chair when Lord Mahon retired, and we were merry ; 
 good-natured sparring between Disney and myself ; Dwarris 
 took part. I gave the law to him. He was very civil. Emer- 
 son retired early, after responding to his health briefly and well. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 6tli ]\ray, 1848. 
 I am particularly pleased with your illustration of the value 
 of anecdotic letters, by imagining our enjoyment had we found 
 a family record of that glorious old Non-con. De Foe, sharing 
 
:372 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 with Bunyan the literary honors of the sect, and acknowledg- 
 ing no other chief than John Milton. The extreme facility of 
 printing, and consequent habit of making everything known in 
 this age, will place our posterity in a different state from our 
 own. They will be oppressed by the too much, where we suffer 
 from the too little. 
 
 May 6th. — I had at breakfast Robertson and Joseph Hutton. 
 When they left me, I called on Boott. I was deeply concerned 
 at the opinion he expressed of Robertson's state of health. 
 
 May 13th. — I had a very agreeable breakfast this morning. 
 My friend E. Field accompanied Wilkinson and Phillips (house- 
 mate with Wilkinson), and they stayed with me a considerable 
 time. Wilkinson developed his Swedenborgianism most inof- 
 fensively ; and his love of Blake is delightful. It is strange 
 that I, who have no imagination, nor any power beyond that of 
 a logical understanding, should yet have great respect for re- 
 ligious mystics. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 9th June, 1848. 
 
 .... Tuesday, I heard Emerson's first lecture, " On the 
 Laws of Thought " ; one of those rhapsodical exercises of mind, 
 like Coleridge's in his " Table Talk," and Carlyle's in his Lec- 
 tures, which leave a dreamy sense of pleasure, not easy to 
 analyze, or render an account of .... I can do no better than 
 tell you what Harriet Martineau says about him, which, I think, 
 admirably describes the character of his mind. " He is a man 
 so sui generis, that I do not wonder at his not being apprehend- 
 ed till he is seen. His influence is of a curious sort. There is a 
 vague nobleness and thorough sweetness about him, which move 
 people to their very depths, without their being able to explain 
 why. The logicians have an incessant triumph over him, but 
 their triumph is of no avail. He conquers minds, as well as 
 hearts, wherever he goes ; and without convincing anybody's 
 reason of any one thing, exalts their reason, and makes their 
 minds worth more than they ever w^ere before." 
 
 Jmie 27th. — I heard a lecture by Emerson on domestic 
 life. His picture of childhood was one of his most successful 
 sketches. I enjoyed the lecture, which was, I dare say, the 
 most liberal ever heard in Exeter Hall. I sat by Cookson, and 
 also by Mrs. Joseph Parkes. Those w^ho have a passion for 
 
1848.] FIRST STONE OF UNIVERSITY HALL. 373 
 
 " clear ideas," shake their heads at what they cannot reduce to 
 propositions as clear and indisputable as a sum in arithmetic. 
 The frightful massacre at Paris has confirmed our worst fears. 
 The government has succeeded, at a much larger expense of 
 blood than it would have cost Louis PhiHppe to succeed also. 
 How well Shakespeare has said the thing : — 
 
 " We but teach 
 Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return 
 To plague the inventors." 
 
 July 20th, — This was a busy and interesting day. Were I 
 forty or thirty years younger, it would be most interesting ; for 
 there are grounds for hoping that it will be a memorable day. 
 It began to me by Madge, his wife, the two elder Miss Stans- 
 felds, and Miss Hutton breakfasting with me. At half past 
 twelve, we all repaired to Gordon Square, where the first stone 
 of University Hall was laid. The actors were Mark Philips 
 and Madge on the ground. Then an adjournment to University 
 College, where Newman delivered an inaugural address, which 
 seems to have conciliated every one. It will be printed. It 
 resembled, as I told him, the egg-dance of Mignon, in " Wilhelm 
 Meister." I was so impressed by the speech, that I moved the 
 thanks of the meeting for it ; and though what I said had 
 nothing in it, and was very short, yet the warmth of my man- 
 ner obtained it applause. There were several hours between 
 the meeting and our dining, that is (about thirty of us) at the 
 Freemasons' Tavern, and this time I spent at the Athenseum. 
 
 The dinner was also very agreeable. I was placed next 
 Newman, who was next the Chairman, Mark Philips : Madge, 
 and John Taylor, opposite ; and next me. Busk. The dinner 
 went off well, as, indeed, everything did, from the beginning to 
 the end. The Chairman in his opening address at the gi'ound, 
 and Madge in his short address, and particularly in the prayer, 
 were both what thev ouo:ht to be, so that no one seemed to be 
 disappointed. The excellence of Newman's address lay in the 
 skill with which he asserted, without offence, the power of 
 forming an institution open to all opinions whatever, even Jew 
 and Mahometan. It will be curious, when the speech is print- 
 ed, to look more closely at this than can be done when one only 
 listens. At the dinner, I was called upon to propose the health 
 of the Chairman ; and that I did also feelingly. We had 
 several visitors at the dinner, Madge, Newman, Davison, At- 
 kinson, Donaldson, and Jay (builder). Dr. A. T. Thompson 
 was also present. The speech-making was not wordy. I be- 
 
374 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 lieve the general impression was, that the opening was a good 
 augury. 
 
 July 21st. — While I was at dinner, Eobertson from Brighton 
 called. He is on his way to the lakes. I have given him a 
 line to Quillinan, and shall write to Mrs. Wordsworth about 
 him. Having engaged him to take tea with me, I also asked 
 him to bring with him Mr. Roscoe, and two of the young ladies, 
 which he did ; and w^e had a pleasant cup of tea together. I 
 like the conversation of Mr. Roscoe.* We talked of old times ; 
 and when they left me, I went to Hunter's, with w^hom I sat 
 up late. He talks candidly about the University Hall. He, 
 of course, thinks that our hall will be patronized only by the 
 centrifugal Unitarians. He and Robertson differ much. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Lincoln, 28tli July, 6 a. m. 
 
 .... We left London at half past eleven, a. m., and were 
 here, at Lincoln, at five.f These rapid movements have already 
 ceased to excite, wonder. My drive was pleasant enough : I 
 had companions I knew, — Britton, the author of "" Ecclesias- 
 tical Antiquities " ; Hawkins, of the Athenaeum ; and Hill, 
 brother of the Sheriff of London, a bustling, good-natured man, 
 who has taken the labor of managing off my hands, — a service 
 I gladly receive. 
 
 We walked up the hill on which the glorious cathedral 
 stands, the west front of which is much praised ; but I have 
 had pleasure in learning that it was to have been pulled down, 
 if a reforming bishop had not died prematurely. This Norman 
 front is quite incongruous, considered as one with the rest of 
 the edifice. 
 
 Tuesday was the day of initiation, and of long speeches ; we 
 had only too much of them. The Bishop of Norwich resigned 
 his post to the Earl Brownlow, as President, and the Marquis 
 of Northampton was a frequent and very respectable speaker ; 
 and also the Bishop of Lincoln (Kay). These four were the 
 matadores of the whole meeting. 
 
 There was also a public dinner, at which were 240 ladies and 
 gentlemen. Here the same noble and prelatical orators. The 
 Bishop of Norwich sis playful as a school-boy, with a kindheart- 
 edness and social benignity that pleased me infinitely more 
 
 * See Vol. I. p. 455. 
 
 + To attend a congress of the Archaeological Society. 
 
1848.] EXCURSION "TO GAINSBOROUGH. 375 
 
 than the religious tone of an after-dinner speech from the 
 
 would-be Bishop, the Dean of , whose speech at such a 
 
 time and place was cant. 
 
 On Tuesday the business of the meeting began. We had 
 very learned and most interesting lectures on this marvellous 
 cathedral, and these lectures will spread a taste for antiquarian 
 studies, w^hich will do good. 
 
 Yesterday we made our first excm'siou, viz. to Gainsborough, 
 an ugly uninteresting town on the Trent. But it has an old 
 mansion, famed in history for certain visits to it by Henry 
 VIII., of which Hunter gave us an account in a paper. 
 
 But we had a double attraction : first, in a very interesting 
 old church on the road ; and on our return we were entertained 
 at the seat of Sir Charles Anderson with a capital cold colla- 
 tion or luncheon. We had a merry party in a four-horsed car- 
 riage ; for these excursions are by no means dry and pedantic 
 parties, as you may imagine. I confess to all I meet, I make 
 these journeys merely on account of the social pleasiu*e I re- 
 ceive ; and I perceive that it is because I give as well as take 
 in this respect that I am well received, though certainly one 
 of the least learned of the Archseologians who attend these 
 meetings. 
 
 H. C. K. TO Talfourd. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 3d August, 1848. 
 
 The ^' Final Memorials " were sent to me as I was setting 
 out on the Archaeological excursion to Lincoln, and I packed 
 them up. But I thought it a profanation to expose them to a 
 noisy, busy crowd. It was after I had spent hours in the 
 cathedral that I first ventured to look into them, and I have 
 read them through, in nearly entire solitude, with an enjoy- 
 ment not weakened, but chastened, by tender recollections. 
 Every page of your own composition exhibits the congeniality 
 of spirit that qualified you to be the biographer of Charles and 
 Mary Lamb. 
 
 Of your characterizations, I was especially pleased with those 
 of George Dyer, Godwin, and Coleridge. In this part of your 
 work, I thought I perceived a subtlety of discrimination which 
 did not jar with that flow of sentiment in which you elsewhere 
 indulge when brooding over the objects of your attachment. 
 
 Even when I could not respond to all the praise, I loved you 
 the more for the tvill to praise ; and recollected that you wrote 
 on the principle which characterizes all Goethe's critical writ- 
 
376 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 ings, — that of expatiating on the good, the positive, and of 
 passing over in silence the defective, or the mistaken, as if it 
 was a nonentity, — a mere negation 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. E. 
 
 LouGHRiGG Holme, August 12, 1848. 
 
 .... I devour newspapers with uncomfortable appetite. 
 France, Italy, Germany, Ireland ; what a mess ! I wish Smith 
 O'Brien had run away and escaped, for though he deserves to 
 suffer the extremity of the law (if he is not of unsound intel- 
 lect), it is not wise, if it can be avoided, to make Lord Edward 
 Fitzgeralds, Emmets, &c. of Irishmen. Hanging in Ireland 
 for political offences is a great glory, and endears the martyr 
 to the millions. Yesterday, as I happened to be on the terrace 
 at Eydal Mount, no less than fifty or sixty (I counted forty- 
 eight, and then left off) cheap-trainers invaded the poet's prem- 
 ises at once. They walked about, all over the terraces and 
 garden, without leave asked, but did no harm ; and I was 
 rather pleased at so many humble men and women and lassies 
 having minds high enough to feel interest in Wordsworth. I 
 retreated into the house ; but one young lady rang the bell, 
 asked for me, and begged me to give her an autograph of Mr. 
 Wordsworth. I had none. " Where could she get one V I 
 did not know. Her pretty face looked as sad as if she had lost 
 a lover. — Excuse great haste, for I am very busy working at 
 Camoens ; and though I do little, the day seems too short, 
 there are so many visitors. 
 
 P. S. — When you see Mrs. Clarkson, tell her, if you like, 
 that I remember well that week when she went more than 
 once to sit by the bedside of the dead mother of my children.* 
 It w^as a fancy of hers which touched me greatly. 
 
 August 2Jf-th. — Took a walk w4th Donaldson. An interest- 
 ing chat on religion, he striving to reconcile conformity with 
 extreme liberality of opinion. I know no man who more in- 
 geniously explains the Trinity, which from him is harmless as 
 an insignificant doctrine. 
 
 Septemher 2d, — In the afternoon I was taken a drive by 
 
 ♦ Quillinan's first wife was a daughter of Sir Egerton Bridges, and a few 
 weeks after giving birth to her younger daughter, 
 
 " She died 
 Through flames breathed on her from her own fireside.*' 
 
1848.] DE MORGAN'S INAUGURAL LECTURE. 377 
 
 Donaldson, I riding with him on the box, Mrs. Donaldson, &;c., 
 within. The more I see of him, the more liberal I find him ; 
 and of his talents, my estimate rises. His book on the 
 Greek Drama was written w^hen he was twenty-four ; he is now 
 thirty-seven years old. Yet he lost five years in a lawyer's 
 ofiice, from fom'teen to nineteen. 
 
 September 27th, — I heard a lecture on digestion (part of a 
 course on the physics of human nature), by Wilkinson at the 
 Whittington Club. I was very much pleased with him : his 
 voice clear, manner collected, like one who knew what he was 
 about ; his style rich, a good deal of originality in his meta- 
 phors and a little mysticism, tending to show that there is in 
 the universe a digestive or assimilative process going on, 
 which connects man with nature, and the present with the 
 other life. 
 
 October 9th. — I went out early and breakfasted with 
 Eogers ; a small and agreeable party, — only Samuel Sharpe, 
 Harness * and sister, and Lord Glenelg. Samuel Sharpe said 
 but little, but what he said was very good. The recent con- 
 viction of Smith O'Brien was a matter of doubt, but most 
 thought an execution necessary, though Samuel Sharpe 
 thought it would lead to murders of landlords. 
 
 October 17th. — I heard an admirable inaugural lecture from 
 De Morgan, worth a more elaborate notice than I can take of 
 it. Its object was to repress the system of carrying on college 
 education by the aid of rewards, as only one degree less bad 
 than the exploded system of punishments ; and he represented 
 as mischievous the system of studying for an examination. 
 The students should be directed to the specific study by their 
 sense of its worth, without the aid of fellowships, scholarships, 
 or rewards. He affirmed that the best rule for a student would 
 be, to disregard any expected or probable examination. The 
 spirited style, the striking illustration, altogether rendered this 
 a most remarkable exhibition. I whispered to Newman at the 
 close, "• Though the cholera is not contagious, yet boldness is." 
 The lecture gave general satisfaction. 
 
 October SOth. — i^Yi^htoxi.) I called on Eobertson, Sen.,t 
 
 * The first time 1 dined with Harness was in 1839, and I met Babbage. 
 Harness was preacher at Regent Square Church. In youth he was a friend of 
 Lord Byron, and has himself written some elegant poems. He was and is a 
 man of taste, of High Church principles, and liberal in spirit. Among our 
 common friends were John Kenyon and Miss Burdett Coutts. — H. C. R. 
 
 t Formerly a lawyer in the West Indies, where he made his fortune. — 
 H. C. R. ^ 
 
378 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 and Miss Levesque, and I had a long and very agreeable walk 
 with Eev. F. Kobertson. We talked to-day on religion ; he 
 spoke of the happiness he felt in being able freely to be a 
 member of the Church of England, which implies a harmoiii- 
 ous consent to all its doctrines. How he can be this, and yet 
 entertain such liberal opinions, and, what is much better, lib- 
 eral feelings, I cannot comprehend ; but this is not, perhaps, 
 of much moment. He was as cordial as ever, and seemed not 
 at all offended by the freedom of my expressions. In this 
 respect there is a correspondence between him and Sortaine, 
 who is also quite liberal ; but then Sortaine refuses to read the 
 Athanasian Creed, and on baptism entertains opinions contrary 
 to the Church. Still, Robertson is as liberal as he, — I should 
 think even more so. I am not at all anxious to reconcile these 
 seeming incompatibilities. 
 
 November 2d, — I called on Miss Goldsmid (the Baron being 
 from home). An interesting chat with her. On my objecting 
 to her that I could not respect a national God and a system 
 of favoritism, her reply was, that the vocation of the Jews was 
 to be the teachers of the imity of the Godhead, but the lesson 
 was to be taught for the benefit of the whole world. There is 
 no favoritism for the sake of the individual chosen to be the 
 instructor. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Brighton, 3d November, 1848. 
 
 .... You have been led by the annual borough elections 
 to express regret at the abandonment of the old system of self- 
 election. Now in this I can by no means agree with you. 
 Whatever inconveniences follow from the present system, it 
 has at least the merit of inducing a large proportion of the 
 people to give some attention to public matters, who would 
 otherwise be absorbed by practices of the intensest and gross- 
 est selfishness, far exceeding in malignity all the evils that arise 
 out of the present system. 
 
 This visit to Brighton has been somewhat shorter tlian 
 usual, — of only nine days ; but it has been quite as pleasant 
 as ever. My time has been fully occupied. My kind host, 
 Masquerier, is in very good health, though not quite so active 
 as he once was. He is very much devoted to his wife, 
 whose health he watches with anxious care, and who has 
 shown the power of a strong constitution in resisting severe 
 and dangerous chronic diseases. 
 
1848.] SORTAINE. — F. W. ROBERTSON. 379 
 
 On Friday I made some interesting calls, — one on the very 
 clever preacher Sortaine, in Lady Huntingdon's connection, — 
 a great favorite with the Haldanes, and at the same time with 
 me. He combines zeal with liberality in an eminent degree. 
 To-day also I called with Masquerier on Sam Rogers, who is 
 here with his sister. She is wonderfully recovered from 
 paralysis ; that is, she can receive visits in her chair, and is 
 amused by hearing^ though she is scarcely able to hold a conver- 
 sation. Kogers is very friendly, though he retains his powers 
 of sarcasm. It has been said of him that he is the man of 
 generous actions and unkind words. 
 
 On Sunday morning I heard Sortaine, and in the afternoon 
 that very remarkable man, Mr. Robertson, of whom I have 
 written frequently of late. He is an admirable preacher, and 
 every seat in his chapel is taken. While he gives great offence 
 to High-Churchmen and Conservative politicians, he has lately 
 delivered an address to the Workingman's Association,* re- 
 markable for the boldness with which he avoided all courting 
 of the people^ while he advocated their cause. He attacked 
 the ballot and other popular delusions. I shall take to town 
 some copies of his address. I spent one evening with him, 
 and had several long walks. I have urged him in vain to 
 give up his church, and go to Madeira. Dr. Watson, however, 
 and Dr. Hall, say his lungs are not affected ; and though his 
 friends wish it, he will not go w^hile he thinks he is able to do 
 good. I used the strongest persuasive : I told him frankly 
 I thought his sermons unequal in power to those I heard 
 formerly. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. Paynter, EsQ.f 
 
 Athen^um, 12th December, 1848 
 
 I awoke early this morning, and thought at once of the 
 Times article on Prison Discipline. I mused for a time on 
 what T recollected of the paper, and brought myself to the 
 conviction (confirmed by the perusal of the whole article), 
 that, well written as it is, and well put as one or two points 
 are, still as an investigation of the subject the whole thing is 
 altogether worthless, — and that because the one or two lead- 
 ing ideas, of which the rest of the composition is a mere 
 amplification, are left unproved, being mere assumptions and 
 
 * " An Address delivered at the Opening of the Workingmfin's Institute, 
 on Monday, October 23, 1848." See " Lectures and Addresses," p. 1. 
 t A police magistrate. See ante^ p. 173. 
 
380 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRARB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 not going to the bottom of the subject. The one thought, 
 indeed, on which everything turns, is that it is not prevention, 
 or correction, which is the main rule or guide in the measure 
 of punishment, but a sense of justice ; and no attempt is made 
 to ground this sense of justice on any law of nature, any ab- 
 stract rule of right derived from the will or law of God ; but this 
 moral sense, or conscience of society, is in terms declared to be 
 determined through regular legislative and judicial institutions/ 
 This is either very foolish or very monstrous. I will take one 
 palpable example or illustration. In America, a Christian 
 country, it is proclaimed by their " legislative and judicial in- 
 stitutions " that it is a crime to receive stolen goods, knowing 
 them to be stolen ; and therefore a man is sentenced to capital 
 punishment who robs a slave-owner of his property by assisting 
 the slave in stealing himself from his lawful owner. The law 
 of the land declares that a man has a right to buy the child 
 at the mother's breast, and sell it as soon as it is a vahiable 
 commodity ; and the master punishes with cruel tortures the 
 woman who will not breed children for his service, he having 
 a right to the fruit of her body ; though, when he bought her, 
 he knew that she or her ancestor had been stolen. 
 
 I take this example, because it shows the extreme absurd- 
 ity of resting the principle or measure of punishment on 
 law. 
 
 We have, in our own country, enormously unjust laws, though 
 none so atrocious as this. But we have atrocities of our own, 
 more directly bearing on the subject of Prison Discipline, 
 which show the worthlessness of the rule laid down by this 
 writer. 
 
 To go back to the question. The writer maintains that we 
 have a natural sense of justice ; where there is guilt, there 
 ought to be retribution, and we are more anxious for this than 
 for either correction or prevention. For the sake of argu- 
 ment, let it be granted ; but then the author of this rule 
 ought to show us in what guilt consists, and how it is ascer- 
 tained. What is the measure of the guilt of a poor child 
 bred in a night-cellar, who has from his infancy lived only with 
 thieves and prostitutes % Sympathy and imitation are in- 
 stincts appertaining to our common nature. Your son was 
 made happy by your and his mother's praises, when he brought 
 home the certificates of his good character at school. A child 
 such as I have mentioned, at his age, being sent out by his 
 parents to beg or steal, is flogged if he comes home at night 
 
1848.] PUNISHMENT FOR CRIME. — THE REAL CRIMINALS. 381 
 
 without anything, and rewarded by their praises, or perhaps a 
 dram or other luxury, when he brings home plunder. He 
 has never heard property spoken of but as something which 
 gentlefolks have got, and which he ought to get from them if 
 he can. Of law and magistrates, and right and wrong, he 
 knows nothing but what he has heard from thieves and pros- 
 titutes. It is sheer cant and nonsense to say that his natural 
 conscience should have taught him better. The natural con- 
 science of the clerical and legal slaveholder has not taught hrm 
 the iniquity of slavery, which is a much greater iniquity than 
 the thefts of the poor boy, and more opposed to natural 
 justice. Yet the writer in the Times would condemn the boy 
 to punishment, as just, and he would perhaps honor the 
 American slaveholder. I say " perhaps," because I know not 
 how he thinks. I know that I have heard you often apologize 
 for and apparently justify, slavery, while you abuse abolition- 
 ists ; and yet, in other respects, I believe you to be a con- 
 scientious and upright man. Therefore, I say, I cannot admit 
 the force of the argument, that the child ought ^ in spite of his 
 lamentable education, to be sensible of the wrong he does in 
 thieving. 
 
 I, on the contrary, say, that whether the child be guilty or 
 not, he must be stopped in his thievish habits, both for his 
 own sake and the sake of society. In a case like that I have 
 stated, — not a fancy case, but one which you know to be of 
 daily occurrence, — I do not consider the child as at all guilty. 
 The act is culpable, but the guilt is to be imputed to the mass 
 of society, which has not given him an education. The real 
 criminals are the legislators and the magistrates, who have 
 made no provision for the masses. 
 
 I do not deny that cases may be imagined, in which we have 
 a right to require a moral sense, even in the uneducated. Rec- 
 ollect, however, that property is a creature of the km, not 
 founded on any natural sense, but on the experience of its 
 necessity for the well-being of society. The law of nature is 
 that of Rob Roy : — 
 
 " That they should take who have the power, 
 And they should keep who can." 
 
 Society steps in, but it shamefully neglects its duty when it 
 proclaims a law, and makes no provision for its being known, 
 in order to its being obeyed. 
 
 The individual in whom a moral sense has never been gen- 
 erated (for it is not innate, at least it does not extend to the 
 
382 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 22. 
 
 rights of property) ought not to be tortured because he has 
 not what he could not give himself, and society has neglected 
 to give him. 
 
 The question of responsibility is the most difficult that is 
 ever forced on our consideration ; but the interests of society 
 require that men should provide for the emergencies of life, 
 and not wait till metaphysical problems are solved. In cor- 
 recting the criminal, society does but supply a duty it had 
 neglected before, when it permitted or caused him to become 
 criminal. In preventing crime, it attains one of the great 
 ends of social existence. We put a maniac into a strait- 
 waistcoat, though we know him to be morally innocent. We 
 restrain a wilful offender, without troubling ourselves to answer 
 the question, how far his offence has been an act of necessity 
 or free-will. 
 
 And we ought to persevere in the correction of all offenders, 
 for the sake of themselves and of all mankind. 
 
 As to retribution, we may safely leave that to the only per- 
 fectly wise Judge. He judges not according to appearances. 
 He who made the distinction between the many stripes and the 
 few stripes, would, I am sure, not at all sympathize with the 
 Times reviewer. 
 
 I have wi'itten with great rapidity, and have not time to 
 read what I have written. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. E. 
 
 Rydal Mount, December 28, 1848. 
 
 On Tuesday I came to Westmoreland by rail. A dull but 
 mild day. Riding in a first-class carriage, I was, as usual, 
 nearly alone. But I had sufficient amusement in lounging 
 over the " Life of William Collins, R. A.," the landscape- 
 painter, whose acquaintance I made in Italy, when I was with 
 Wordsworth. I was at Ambleside soon after nine the next 
 morning, and rejoiced to find my friends far more cheerful than 
 a year ago. In the two days I have spent here already, I 
 have had more conversation with Wordsworth than I had dur- 
 ing the whole of my last visit ; and at this moment that I am 
 writing, he is very copiously discoursing with a neighboring 
 clergyman on the Irish character, as he found it on a visit to 
 Ireland. I found him and all others deeply excited by the 
 supposed danger of Hartley Coleridge, who was thought to be 
 dying of diarrhoea ; and we went to Grasmere to inquire about 
 
1849.] EUTHANASIA. — HARTLEY COLERIDGE. 383 
 
 him. The rest of the day I spent for the most part in calls, 
 and I have seen nearly all my old friends 
 
 Fox How is the head-qnarters of Whiggery in this corner, 
 as Rydal Mount is of High-Churchism. I am held to be a 
 sort of anomaly among the varieties of goodness here, with 
 the licentia loquendi which is given to the fool of the drama, 
 or the old bachelor and self-willed opinionist of the novel. 
 
 The firm handwriting of your letter does not permit me to 
 ascribe its being only half its usual size to weakness. In 
 regard to what you say* of health, I should, in your place, feel 
 vexed at the announcement that I should survive my com- 
 plaint. I know none on the whole less painful. The 
 euthanasia of the Greeks — the beautiful death, that is, of 
 mere old age — is not in the catalogue of maladies in any of 
 our modern bills of mortality. Therefore I should well like to 
 come to a compromise with the old enemy, and bargain for 
 submitting to him, after your fashion, about five years and 
 three months afterwards.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 1849. 
 
 JANUARY 2d. — I spent my night well by writing a long 
 letter to Henry after I was left alone, f It was my first 
 letter to him, and I have given it an extraneous value by ask- 
 ing Wordsworth to add his autograph. 
 
 January 6tJu — After finishing Clough's poem in hexame- 
 ters, t I heard from Dr. Green that Hartley Coleridge was just 
 dead. He died between two and three o'clock. He was in his 
 fifty-second year. Everybody in the valley pitied and loved 
 him. Many a one would echo the words, 
 
 *' I could have better spared a better man." 
 
 January 11th. — The funeral of Hartley Coleridge took 
 place. His brother Derwent, Wordsworth, Quillinan, and 
 Angus Fletcher were present, besides the medical men. 
 
 * H. C. R. was about five years and three months younger than his brother 
 Thomas, 
 t H. C. R.'s great-nephew. 
 t "The Bothie of Toper-na-Fuosich." 
 
384 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 23. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Athen^um, 12th January, 1849, p. m. 
 
 I took leave of the poet yesterday morning at twelve, when 
 he attended the funeral of Hartley Coleridge. During the 
 performance of the ceremony I sat with dear Mrs. Words- 
 worth, and had more than two hours' quiet chat with her. I 
 barely caught a glimpse of Wordsworth on his retm^n. It 
 rained while the solemn service was read, and I shall be glad 
 to know that the attendance did him' no harm. I had ob- 
 served before that his spirits were not, as I feared they would 
 be, affected by the occurrence, and I left Rydal with the com- 
 fortable assurance that his grief is now softened down to an 
 endurable sadness.* 
 
 I have no anecdotes worth reporting of my last week at 
 Rydal. 
 
 I made the round of calls and visits. The last day I at- 
 tended a grand party at Mr. Harrison's, the magistrate and 
 squire of Ambleside. I am known generally there, and on 
 the great poet's account noticed. But how soon will this end ! 
 how soon will everything end ! at least everything of which 
 we have definite knowledge. The infinite sphere belongs to our 
 aspirations ; the also infinite circles of our hopes, wishes, and 
 feelings, certainly of higher character and deeper importance 
 than our knowledge ! 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 LouGHRiGG Holme, January 12, 1849. 
 
 You were unluckily gone before I returned to Rydal Mount 
 after Hartley Coleridge's funeral. It was a bitter day. I 
 hope you got home without accident or inconvenience. I 
 dined at the Mount, and your cheering presence was much 
 missed by your host and hostess, as well as by myself 
 
 But I write to you now merely to thank you for having 
 given me a great and unexpected pleasure, by leaving with 
 me " The Bothie of Toper-na-Fuosich," which Mrs. Arnold, 
 too, had recommended me to read. I was very unwilling to 
 commence it, for I detest English hexameters, from Surrey's 
 to Southey's ; and Mr. Clough's spondaic lines are, to my ear, 
 detestable too, — that is, to begin with. Yet I am really 
 charmed with his poem. There is a great deal of mere prose 
 
 * This was H. C. R.'s last visit to Rydal during Wordsworth's life. 
 
1849.] QUILLINAN ON CLOUGH. 385 
 
 in it, and the worse, to my taste, for being prose upon stilts ; 
 but, take it for all in all, there is more freshness of heart and 
 soul and sense in it than it has been my chance to find and 
 feel in any poem of recent date, — perhaps I ought to say 
 than in any recent poem of which the author is not yet much 
 known ; for I have no mind to depreciate Alfred Tennyson, 
 nor any other man who has fairly won his laurel. 
 
 Mr. Wordsworth, to-day, came to me through snow and 
 sleet, and sat for an hour in his most cheerful mood. Some 
 talk about his grandchildren led him back to his own boyhood, 
 and he related several particulars which it would have done 
 you good to listen to ; for some of them were new to me, and, 
 probably, would have been so to you. He talked, too, a good 
 deal about the Coleridges, especially the S. T. C. If I had 
 been inclined to Boswellize, this would have been one of my 
 days for it. He was particularly interesting. 
 
 I hope all the Flaxmans will soon be lodged to your mind. 
 You should tell your brother to make a bequest of the marble 
 bust of yourself to the London University, to be placed in the 
 same room with them, as a record that it was you who were 
 mainly instrumental in securing them for the said University, 
 or in getting them worthily installed there. The bust is excel- 
 lent as a likeness, and more than respectable as a work of art, 
 though it is not by a Flaxman. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss Fenwick. 
 
 30 EussELL Square, 15th January, 1849. 
 
 The account I have to give of our friends is so much better 
 than that of last year, that I should certainly have sent it, 
 even if I had not received a friendly intimation of your wish 
 to hear from me. 
 
 I found Mr. Wordsworth more calm and composed than I 
 expected. Whatever his feelings may be, he appears to have 
 them under control. I feared that the visit to the churchyard 
 last Tuesday with Mr. Coleridge, to fix on the spot where 
 Hartley might be interred, would overset him ; but, on the 
 contrary, I returned with him alone, and he talked with per- 
 fect self-possession. Dear Mrs. Wordsworth is what she al- 
 ways was ; I see no change in her, but that the wrinkles of 
 her care-worn countenance are somewhat deeper. Poor Miss 
 Wordsworth I thought sunk still further in insensibility. By 
 the by, Mrs. Wordsworth says that almost the only enjoy- 
 
 VOL. II. 17 Y 
 
386 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 23. 
 
 ment Wordsworth seems to feel is in his attendance on her, 
 and that her death would be to him a sad calamity. I 
 thought our friend James a shade younger and more amiable 
 than ever. He had an opportunity of rendering himself very 
 useful, by his attendance on poor Hartley, during all my stay 
 at Rydal. Derwent Coleridge spent a great part of his time 
 with us at the Mount, and helped to keep off the sadness 
 which seemed ready to seize its inmates. He has this advan- 
 tage over his brother, — and, to a degree, over his father 
 also, — that he has full power over his faculties. 
 
 Quilhnan was, as usual, quietly poring over his laborious 
 work, his version of Camoens's epic, from which he never can 
 gain emolument or fame. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Arnold is supplied with daguerreotype repre- 
 sentations of her three wandering boys, — the soldier, the 
 sailor, and the colonist, — and seems to have an anxious 
 enjoyment in dreaming over the possibilities of their con- 
 dition in the varieties of their adventurous lives. Mrs. 
 Fletcher is as lively as ever, and seems quite happy in her 
 children. 
 
 Miss Martineau makes herself an object of envy by the 
 success of her domestic arrangements. She has built a cottage 
 near her house, placed in it a Norfolk dairy-maid, and has her 
 poultry-yard, and her piggery, and her cow-shed ; and Mrs. 
 Wordsworth declares she is a model in her household economy, 
 making her servants happy, and setting an example of activity 
 to her neighbors. She is at the same time busy writing the 
 continuation of Knight's " Pictorial History of England," and 
 has just brought out a small volume entitled '' Household 
 Education," which has proved successful, and probably with 
 good reason. 
 
 February 7th. — Finished Macaulay's delightful volumes to- 
 day. One sentence I must here copy, as the wisest in the 
 work. Commenting on the famous declaration of the Conven- 
 tion Parliament that the throne was vacant by the abdication 
 of King James the Second, he says: *'Such words are to be 
 considered, not as words, but as deeds. If they effect that 
 which they are intended to effect, they are rational, though 
 they may be contradictory. If they fail of attaining their 
 end, they are absurd, though they carry demonstration with 
 them. Logic admits of no compromise. The essence of politics 
 is compromise." 
 
1849.] BURKE. — TALFOURD A JUDGE. 387 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. E,. 
 
 LouGHRiGG Holme, June 20, 1849. 
 
 .... I am much amused with the extract you have 
 sent me from Southey's " Commonplace Book." Two or three 
 months ago at a missionary charity sermon in a church in this 
 neighborhood, I heard the preacher (a good and worthy man 
 he is too) advocate the cause of the mission on the ground 
 that if we did not Christianize the rising generation in the 
 East, eight hundred miUions of Oriental babies would infallibly 
 be doomed to eternal perdition ! What would Southey have 
 said to this startling announcement ] . . . . 
 
 Jiily 19 til, — (Bury.) A break in the uniformity of my 
 Bury life. I read to the ladies at Sir John Walsham's Burke's 
 letter on the Duke of Bedford's motion on his pension. I read 
 it with the same delight I felt more than fifty years ago. It 
 is unequalled for the union of wisdom and eloquence, pathos 
 and sublime satire, and is as fascinating as it was when written 
 in 1756. I believe my party of ladies enjoyed it too. I then 
 accompanied Lady Walsham to Hardwicke House, and took a 
 dinner-luncheon there. 
 
 I read early in bed Wordsworth's ** Waggoner," with great 
 pleasure. Donne had praised it highly. It used not to be a 
 favorite of mine ; but I discerned in it to-day a benignity and 
 a gentle humor, with a view of human life and a felicity of 
 diction, which rendered the dedication of it to Charles Lamb 
 peculiarly appropriate. 
 
 July 26th, — I wrote a letter of congratulation to Mrs. Tal- 
 foard, the news having arrived that her husband had been 
 appointed judge, — an appointment that seems to give general 
 satisfaction. My ground of felicitation was, that the repose of 
 judicial life harmonizes better than the wranglings of the bar 
 with the temperament of the poet. Talfourd is a generous 
 and kind man, and merits his good fortune. 
 
 August 11th. — I concluded the evening by a late call on 
 Hunter. He was pleasant as ever, and his notions as odd. 
 This evening he asserted, in the most absolute terms, that he 
 considered baptism to be the only test of a Christian, and that, 
 whatever the privileges were, they were conferred by the mere 
 formal act. What is not Christianity made by such formal- 
 ism ] 
 
 August 28th. — I rose early, and packed up my few things 
 
388 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 23. 
 
 for my short journey (to Bear Wood), and then I breakfasted 
 with Rogers. A small, agreeable party, — Luttrell, Dyce, 
 Samuel Sharpe, and Moxon, all in good humor. To-day, or 
 about this time, Rogers told us that Sydney Smith said to his 
 eldest brother, a grave and prosperous gentleman : " Brother, 
 you and I are exceptions to the laws of nature. You have 
 risen by your gravity, and I have sunk by my levity." I went 
 by the Southwestern Railroad to Farnborough, where I ar- 
 rived before five, expecting to go off in a few minutes ; but I 
 had to wait there two hoiu*s and a half I lounged into a 
 gentleman's park, and took a luncheon at a small inn. I went 
 by rail to Oakingham, and then had three miles to walk. I took 
 the walk without inconvenience, and had a cordial reception 
 from Mrs. Walter. She had almost given me up, not being 
 aware of the change of hour for the train. 
 
 August 29th. — I spent the whole of the forenoon strolling 
 about the grounds, which have been greatly improved by open- 
 ing the woods, &c. I was engaged reading the ^' Summer in 
 the Country," by the incumbent, Mr. Wilmott, — of whom 
 hereafter, — a book of sentimental criticism. I also read part 
 of Mr. Wilmott's " Life of Jeremy Taylor," also a book which 
 I read through with interest. He came to dine with us. I 
 had formed a very favorable opinion of him from his works. 
 He and I were engaged in fall talk all the afternoon. There 
 were, besides, a Captain Ford and his lady at the house, 
 genteel people and agreeable ; but Mr. Wilmott was the object 
 of interest on this visit. 
 
 August SOtli. — This day, like the preceding, I kept upon 
 the Bear Wood grounds. Mrs. Walter took me into the very 
 pretty church. The funeral sermon by Wilmott, on Mr. 
 Walter's death, which I am now reading, is in a tone of ex- 
 emplary hope and cheerfulness. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 7th September, 1849. 
 .... Now to answer both your letters at once. I enter- 
 tain no fears of the cholera, and do not think that here in 
 Russell Square I am exposed to any greater danger than you 
 are at Bury. It is only in especial quarters that this epidemic 
 rages. But, in truth, there is no assignable reason why the 
 cholera should visit one district rather than another. A calm 
 submission to the will of Providence seems to be the frame of 
 
1849.] F. NEWMAN AND CLOUGH. 389 
 
 mind most favorable even to a successful endurance of an at- 
 tack, and is what is called for by reason as well as religious 
 convictions. That in your eightieth year your mind is in so 
 calm and happy a state, I rejoice. Those who have been 
 brought up in a more gloomy creed, or who, trained in a hap- 
 pier school, have sunk into that wretched faith, would rather 
 pity than envy you this state of mind. We may regret these 
 diversified feelings, but it were unwise to mourn over them. 
 In every age this variety of sentiment has prevailed. And 
 this, as well as tlie more material and physical evils which 
 afflict men, also belongs to the inscrutable dispensations of that 
 Supreme Being in whom we believe, while we awfully recog- 
 nize our incapacity to fathom his will. Submission to that 
 will is our duty, not to attempt to comprehend it 
 
 30 KussELL Square, 15th September, 1849. 
 .... I had a chat with Gallenga last night. He thinks de- 
 spairingly, as I do, of the affairs of the Continent. It is hard 
 to say where they look worst, — in France, Germany, or Italy; 
 or who have acted worst, the French, German, or Italian Lib- 
 erals. Enthusiasts still say, " 0, in the end the people will be 
 victorious ; the good cause will triumph ! " Two follies lie hid 
 in this pious sentiment : first, in supposing that the cause of 
 the people, — that is, the masses, — and the good cause, mean 
 the same thing, which is a violent presumpAion ; the other is, re- 
 ferring to the end^ as if the end were ever to be contemplated in 
 our speculations. In our considerations of the past we look in 
 vain for a beginning, of which we know nothing ; in our an- 
 ticipations of the future, we can take no care for the end. All 
 we can do practically is to provide for that which is to follow 
 immediately^ — on which the remotely future must depend. 
 All that we can ever know historically of the past, with any 
 degree of certainty, is how the present has sprung out of the 
 immediately preceding. 
 
 October Jfih. — I walked to Westbourne Terrace, and dined 
 with Gibson. Only his father and mother, Newman and 
 Clough, were there. I enjoyed the afternoon much. Clough 
 is modest and amiable, as well as full of talent, and I have no 
 doubt that in him we have made a very good choice of a Prin- 
 cipal for the University Hall. 
 
390 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 23. 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 Sunday Night, October 14, 1849. 
 Froude has been here this summer. He was lodged, as I was 
 informed, — for I did not see him, — at a farm-house at or near 
 Skelwith Bridge. Mrs. Gaskell, the author of "Mary Barton," 
 was also, for some weeks, in that neighborhood, and I got Mr. 
 Wordsworth to meet her and her husband (a Unitarian minis- 
 ter at Manchester). She is a very pleasing, interesting person. 
 I cannot lay my hand, at this moment, on your former letter, 
 to which I have only delayed replying for want of leisure, for 
 we have been much occupied with taking visitors walks, and 
 climbs interminable (as some of them seemed), ascents of Hel- 
 vellyn, &c., &c. I wanted to talk to you on the subject of 
 sonnets and sonneteers. What do you mean by that fling, Mr. 
 Sneer ] A sonneteer, you will answer, means a writer of son- 
 nets. And you will not argue on high politics with a son- 
 neteer. Indeed ! yet it is just possible that a man may write 
 sonnets, good or bad, and yet be as able as his neighbors to 
 give, in plain prose, a reason for the political faith that is in 
 him. But do you sit down, friend Crabb, and try your hand 
 at a sonnet. That is the punishment I should like to inflict 
 on you for your sauciness. But we will talk over the art and 
 mystery of sonneteering at Christmas, the best season for 
 cracking hard nuts. You are expected here, — due here as a 
 matter of course. Mrs. Wordsworth has two or three times, 
 and to-day again, charged me to remind you of this. As to 
 me, I always sing the same song (for I, too, have my constan- 
 cy), — No Crabb, no Christmas 1 1 But you will come about 
 the 18th of December, — tharf; is settled. Mrs. Arnold, since 
 
 her return from the seaside, has^ had several visitors 
 
 Poor Johnny Harrison (whose name was John Wordsworth Fa- 
 ber), poor child ! was seized with his last convulsion on Monday 
 morning, the 8th instant. Mr. Wordsworth and I attended his 
 funenil at Grasmere, on Friday. He is buried close to Hartley 
 Coleridge. Who would not wish to be as fit to die at any mo- 
 ment as that sinless Johnny 1 Faber used to call him one of 
 God's blessings to that house of Green Bank, and he was right. 
 He kept their hearts alive to love and pity and tenderness. 
 His work was done, and he was removed. You will find your 
 old and faithful friend, the poet, pretty much as he was on 
 your last visit. The same social cheerfulness, — company cheer- 
 fulness, — the same fixed despondency (uncorrected). I esteem 
 
1849.] QUILLINAN ON CHANNING. 391 
 
 him for both ; I love him best for the latter. I have put up a 
 beautiful headstone to Dora's grave. I wonder if you will 
 like it. God bless you, friend Crabb ! 
 
 October 16th. — A busy day. It began with an interesting 
 rather than important occurrence. The University Hall was 
 opened with a religious service by Dr. Hutton, — i. e. he read 
 chapters from the Bible, and prayed. It was not a public oc- 
 casion ; but some dozen ladies were there, — Mrs. Follen and 
 her sister, Miss Cabot, &c. There must be about eight or ten 
 young men. Richard Martineau made a short opening ad- 
 dress. James Yates, Gibson, Cookson, Le Breton, Charles 
 Bischoff, &c., were present. Many complained afterwards 
 that they had no notice of what was going to take place. 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 LouGHBiGG Holme, October 22, 1849. 
 
 .... All well, though some of us are sad enough. There is, 
 however, a gracious melancholy about autumn. I wish you 
 could see our golden woods just now. The country Tyas never 
 more beautiful 
 
 November 5th. — I was led to give Mrs. C. for Mrs. S. ten 
 pounds. I doubt whether I did right ; and have since recol- 
 lected a saying I heard Kenyon repeat of some one who said he 
 could not afford to give in a hurry I 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. R. 
 
 LouGHRiGG Holme, November 12, 1849. 
 
 .... Some one told me, or I somewhere heard, that Dr. 
 Channing was a weak man. I know little of him and of his 
 works but by his biography and the memoirs of his life, and I 
 find him a strong, and sometimes almost a great man. I mean in 
 intellect and in character, for he appears to have had but a fee- 
 ble frame, and that makes his mental energy the more admira- 
 ble. I hug to my heart such a Unitarian as that. More of 
 my inconsistency, you will say. But though you and I have 
 known each other so many long years, and though I trust we 
 are long friends, you know me but cursorily, — by snatches, as 
 it were, — or you would not think me so inconsistent. I am 
 not the less nor the more a Papist for my cordial admiration of 
 
392 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 23. 
 
 Channing. He was really what he called himself, a liberal Chris- 
 tian, and thoroughly consistent, according to his views, from the 
 commencement of his ministry to the end. The phrase uttered 
 or written by him at a late period of his life, " I am little of 
 a Unitarian," is but another proof of his consistency, though it 
 has been interpreted to his prejudice. It merely meant that 
 as he grew older he grew wiser in charity, that he was still 
 more liberal than before to sincere Christians of all denomina- 
 tions, — not that he was the less a Unitarian in his theology. 
 From him I have at last learnt what is meant by a Christian 
 Unitarian. I am not going over to you, though. On that rock 
 (of Pope Peter) my faith was built, and there it stands. But I 
 owe you the above admission for a bigoted remark that I once 
 made to you, which your good-nature will have forgotten. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth well, and the better for expecting 
 you soon, 
 
 December 25th, — I know not that I ever spent a Christmas 
 day before as an invalid, yet it has not been an unhappy one, 
 but the contrary. Invalids constitute a privileged class of 
 society. Charles Lamb called them " kings." I have been 
 deeply impressed with the blessings I have enjoyed in life, 
 compared with which its evils have been very few and insignifi- 
 cant. 
 
 [Towards the close of the year H. C. R. had a swelling on 
 the back, which his medical attendant, Mr. Ridout, said would 
 very likely become a carbuncle, if not attended to at once. Ac- 
 cordingly, on the 9th of December, the lancet was used, H. 
 C. R. having taken chloroform, the beneficent effect of which 
 he was never weary of lauding. He had accepted the usual 
 invitation to Rydal, but his health was not regarded as in fit 
 state for him to undertake the journey.] 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 29th December, 1849. 
 It was a great relief to me to read in Sarah's letter that your 
 hand was still too shaky to allow of your writing. And then 
 her letter contained the agreeable notice of there being two, 
 instead of one, of the third generation in your house, which 
 gives me a lively image of your home. Your mansion is large 
 enough to permit the young ones to be on occasion somewhat 
 obstreperous. I did not forget dear Henry on his birthday. I 
 
1849.] THOUGHTS IN SICKNESS. 393 
 
 wished him heartily a long and happy series of them. And 
 I have now certainly not a wish only, but a trustful hope, that 
 he will have them. I celebrated my twelfth birthday at Devizes, 
 — if a school birthday could be a celebration. 0, what a dif- 
 ferent boy he is from what I was ! In all points but one, how 
 much my superior ! A portion of that superiority appertaining 
 to the age, unquestionably, more than to the individual. And 
 yet my niece, I have no doubt, would rejoice to exchange a 
 quantity of his mental gifts for my bodily advantages. But 
 she must comfort herself with the recollection that it is not in 
 the order of Providence that all blessings should be heaped on 
 one favored head. 
 
 I hope I am duly grateful for those I enjoy, though I am 
 sensible they are of a low order. My Pharisaism does not go 
 beyond the body. I thank God that my body is not as other 
 men's bodies are, and yet here am I at the end of an almost 
 three weeks' seclusion, owing to a bodily ailment ; and that 
 does not look like an exemption from ordinary infirmities. 
 Now, it seems strange to myself> on reflection, that, on looking 
 back on these three weeks, they have none but agi'eeable remi- 
 niscences. They have been weeks of average enjoyment 
 
 That carbuncle is a frightful word ! ay, it is the name of a fatal 
 malady ! Now, it has caused me no pain, owing to California, 
 as the modern Mrs. Malaprop has it. 
 
 But it is not the absence of pain that surprises me so much 
 as that I have had no malaise. I have felt well. So that when 
 my friendly visitors look decorously grave, and begin, "I was 
 very sorry to hear — " I cannot help stopping them by laugh- 
 ing in their faces. Nor have I felt the least impatience at the 
 seclusion. It is true that I have had the Times sent me for an 
 hour every morning. I expect it now. Could I have sat up, 
 instead of being forced to lie down, I should have gone on with 
 
 my Reminiscences Paynter, who said, on my observing 
 
 how well the people of the house had conducted themselves, and 
 what a happy prospect it opened of our future bearing towards 
 each other, — " Yes," he said, "it has converted what was a lodg- 
 ing-house into a home 
 
 This day, however, unknown to my surgeon, but with the 
 privity of Dr. Boott, I stole to No. 4 Bloomsbury Street. 
 
 [In comes the Times. "] 
 
 Here I dined with Mylne,* one of the Lunacy Coimnis- 
 
 * Son of Professor Mylne, of Glasgow. 
 17* 
 
394 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 sioners. A small party. Dr. Amott, the stove-inventor; a 
 pleasant talker, whose social warmth I like better than his ar- 
 tificial heat. I lay for most of the time on a sofa. 
 
 Christinas day. — I conferred pleasure on Atkinson's chil- 
 dren * by giving them a book each, which their father had 
 chosen. And the family enjoyed their dinner off the turkey, 
 which was highly praised. And I can bear witness to the ex- 
 cellence of the other turkey, of which I partook at Dr. Boott's. 
 No party beyond the Doctor, his wife, and mother (amiable 
 women), four daughters, the husband of one, and the pretendti 
 of another. Here I was allowed to lie down and have my nap. 
 Now, that these escapades have done no harm is evident from 
 this, that Ridout dates the rapidity of the healing from the 
 Monday 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 1850. 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 January 26, 1850. 
 
 LET me first congratulate you on your having entered a 
 new decennium. Your eighty years are now completed. 
 This is a rare privilege, — considered as such by the popular 
 sentiment, — though soi-disant philosophers, some called holy 
 also, treat length of years as length of sorrow. It is true 
 that, as years advance, 
 
 '* By rapid blast or slow decline 
 Our social comforts die away." 
 
 But is not the residue still a good 1 I should say it is, judging 
 by my own experience, and adding my observation of you and 
 others, my seniors. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 20 Russell Square, 2d February, 1850. 
 
 I agree with you in all your reflections on our old age, and 
 on the alleviations, for which I trust we are duly grateful. Of 
 its ordinary evils, I trust that in our latter days we shall all find 
 that, though life must inevitably become less, it does not be 
 
 * Children of the house. 
 
1650.] INFLUENCE OF INDIVIDUALS. 395 
 
 come worse. Our senses must become more obtuse, but what 
 we still feel may be as agreeable notwithstanding. This I have 
 said before, but it is one of the truths that will bear repetition. 
 I thank you for the communication of the paragraph on 
 Donne's lecture ; I wish I had been there to hear it. It has 
 more than once occurred to me that I might be easily induced, 
 myself, to deliver a lecture on Wordsw^orth ; but I fear I am 
 now too old and too indolent. By the by, what is often called 
 indolence is in fact the unconscious consciousness of incapacity ; 
 the importunity to overcome it is often as injudicious as to 
 force an unwilling player to the whist-table, to the great an- 
 noyance of his partners 
 
 You mention having read with pleasure Channing's Memoirs. 
 I possess the book, but it is in constant requisition, and I have 
 scarcely had time to look into it. 
 
 Dr. Arnold would not for a moment have hesitated in re- 
 ceiving Channing within the fold of his Christianity. The 
 great influence of individual men in determining public taste 
 and opinion is a remarkable fact. This is an unpleasant fact 
 to those who cannot combine with it an assui^ance that the ex- 
 istence of these individual men is itself an arrangement of a 
 special Providence, because accident ought not to have a wide 
 influence over the welfare of nations and humanity at large. 
 Imagine one single change, viz., that Goethe had been an 
 Italian instead of a German. The literature of those two 
 countries would have been at this day very different from what 
 it now is ; perhaps the nations also 
 
 H. C. R. TO Paynter. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, 12th April, 1850. 
 .... I should have had great pleasure in going with you 
 to hear Mr. Scott. He is a man from whom you are sure to 
 hear unusual matter. He is always suggestive ; and his or- 
 thodoxy is never off"ensive. Amongst his constant hearers is 
 Newman, the arch-heretic, who joins in the singing, and seems 
 most devout. The audience consists of a very select few. 
 You truly say : " The great defect of his views was that they 
 seemed to have no place for evil, and offered no means of 
 escape." I confine my adjective " truhj " to the first member 
 of the sentence. For, though he did not in his sermon elabor^ 
 ately bring forward his means of escape, it must have been 
 implied. The Gospel scheme of redemption (which he never 
 
396 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 repudiates) constitutes such means. As to the want of " a place 
 for evil," that is not peculiar to his scheme. It is the puzzle 
 of puzzles, from which no scheme of faith and no variety of 
 denial of faith is exempt. Evil must be a part of the Divine 
 economy, or God cannot be the perfect Being we assume him 
 to be. But if it be, then the good and the bad alike are ful- 
 filling — But I am unwilling to complete the sentence. 
 .... To recur again to Mr. Scott, your remark, founded on a 
 simple sermon, seems as if you expected, in that one sermon, 
 to have a riddle at once propounded and solved. If you lived 
 in his neighborhood you would, I have no doubt, seek his ac- 
 quaintance. I have a high opinion. — perhaps I should rather 
 say a strong impression — concerning him. I cannot think 
 that he is a stranger to those feeUngs of pain which you de- 
 scribe. Every man must have had them at one time or an- 
 other ; .jbhough the frequency, as well as the intensity, of such 
 feelings, is often, I suspect, the mere resiilt of physical organi- 
 zation. But I doubt whether any life can be so blameless, or 
 any mind can be so pure, as to justify any one's fancying him- 
 self exempt from evil and inaccessible to temptation. Would 
 not such a one belong to that Pharisaic class whom Christ 
 seems to have ranked below publicans and sinners'? It is 
 against such self-righteousness that the Evangelicals seem suc- 
 cessfully to oppose themselves ; but, unfortunately, they ruin 
 their cause by the opposite extreme, into which they are ever 
 in danger of falling, — that of Antinomianism. I protest 
 solemnly against the imputation of being rendered " insensible 
 to the want of any healing or purifying process " from any 
 Pharisaic self-esteem. It is one thing to be conscious of evil 
 as inherent ; it is another to be apprehensive, in consequence 
 of that consciousness, of becoming the associate of devils to 
 all eternity. In other words, I am equally unable to imagine 
 among mortals a fitness for heaven and for hell. The classifi- 
 cation is too coarse, and consequently imperfect. It provides 
 only for the ideal extreme. It leaves the great mass of 
 the imperfect without a settlement. I am half angry for suf- 
 fering myself to be drawn into so unprofitable a discussion. 
 
 The accounts from Rydal are alarming. I fear that the 
 great poet is approaching to what will be the commencement 
 of his fame as a poet. For there seems an unwillingness to 
 acknowledge the highest merit in any living man 
 
 April 23d, — This day will have a black mark in the annals 
 
1850.] WORDSWORTH'S DEATH. 397 
 
 of the age, for on this day died the greatest man I had ever 
 the honor of calUng friend, — Wordsworth. 
 
 Next day I received a letter from QuiUinan, announcing the 
 death of my great friend the poet, only an hour before. His 
 sons were with him, and Mrs. Wordsworth had the comfort of 
 having her nearest relations with her. Every consolation which 
 death admits of was here, of which the chief was the full sense 
 that the departure was after a long life spent in the acquisition 
 of an immortal fame, — the reward of a life devoted to the 
 service of mankind. 
 
 Several of the newspapers have excellent articles on the 
 poet, but the best by far is that of the Times, which is ad- 
 mirable. 
 
 April SOth, — A letter had come from QuiUinan informing 
 me of the funeral. Mrs. Wordsworth herself had attended, 
 and I was expected. I regret much I did not go, for in gen- 
 eral it seems that it was thought I was there. Every one 
 speaks as he ought of Wordsworth. 
 
 May Sd. — -I read early a speech by Robertson to the 
 Brighton Working-Class Association, in which infidelity of a 
 very dangerous kind had sprung up. His speech shows great 
 practical ability. He managed a difficult subject very ably, 
 but it will not be satisfactory either to the orthodox or the 
 ultra-liberal. I went to Mr. Cookson, w^ho is one of the ex- 
 ecutors of Mr. Wordsworth, and with whom I had an interest- 
 ing conversation about Wordsworth's arrangements for the 
 publications of his poems. He has commissioned Dr. Chris- 
 topher Wordsworth to write his Life, a brief Memoir merely 
 illustrative of his poems. And in a paper given to the Doctor, 
 he wrote that his sons, son-in-law, his dear friend Miss Fenwick, 
 Mr. Carter, and Mr. Robinson, who had travelled with him, 
 " would gladly contribute their aid by communicating any facts 
 within their knowledge." 
 
 May 10th. — At the Athenseum, I fell in with Archdeacon 
 Hare, who wished for my concurrence in a committee meeting, 
 to concert a plan for a monument to Wordsworth, perhaps 
 on Monday, at the Bishop of London's. Talked afterwards 
 with Arthur Stanley and Dr. Whewell on the same subject. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 11th May, 1850. 
 .... You speak so strongly about the pleasure which my 
 
398 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 history gives,=* that I begin to think that the narrative gives 
 as much pleasure as the passing through the events narrated. 
 You may recollect that, once on a time, a German prince pen- 
 sioned a literary man, to enable him to live at Paris among 
 the jphilosophers and men of letters of the witty and proflio-ate 
 capital ; and in return, the pensioner sent a long letter every 
 day, giving an account of his parties, retailing all the horn 
 
 mots and scandal of the day. Hence Baron Grimm's letters, 
 
 the best and most instructive account of French society in ex- 
 istence. 
 
 The Duke of Gotha, perhaps, did not think of the treasure 
 he was collecting, — nor Grimm either, — and the buyer of the 
 letters had as much pleasure as the writer. 
 
 Yesterday, I was accosted by Archdeacon Hare, who said 
 he had been looking out for me several days. He has asked 
 me to attend at a preliminary meeting on Monday, at the Bishop 
 of London's, in order to deliberate on the means of doing fit 
 honor to the great poet by a public manifestation, — that is, 
 a monument of some kind or other. It is wished to have a 
 representative of every class, and I suppose I am to represent 
 the Liberals. It is remarkable that the most zealous of Words- 
 worth's admirers have been the Unitarians and High Church. 
 The Evangelicals within and without the Church have been 
 his despisers, in couple with the Rationalists of the Scotch 
 school. I shall from time to time tell you how things go 
 on 
 
 May ISth. — Attended a meeting at Mr. Justice Coleridge's, 
 to consider of a monument for Wordsworth. I made the thir- 
 teenth. Present, Bishops of London and St. David's, Arch- 
 deacons Hare and Milman, Mr. J. Coleridge, Rogers, Professor 
 Scott, Boxall, and four whose names I did not learn. It was 
 agreed that there should be a bust in Westminster Abbey, and 
 a suitable memorial in Grasmere Church ; and if there should 
 be a surplus of subscriptions (not likely), it is to be considered 
 what is to be done with that. The Bishop of Llandaff sug- 
 gested a scholarship at St. John's College for a native of the 
 Lakes. The Bishop of London wished for something connected 
 with literature. Rogers was uncomfortably deaf, and under- 
 stood little of what was going on. 
 
 * A part of H. C. R.'s letters to T. R. consisted generally of an account of 
 his doings since the last letter, and this part frequently began with, " Now to 
 my history." 
 
1850.] RYDAL IN MOURNING. — MEMORIAL PROJECTS. 399 
 
 H. C. R. TO Miss Fenwick. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 20th May, 1850. 
 
 There is a sad imperfection in language, after all that men 
 of genius and thought have done. 
 
 We want a distinct set of words, by which we may express 
 our feelings at an incident by which pain is assuaged and suffer- 
 ing relieved, and an approach made to enjoyment. I felt this 
 when I sat down just now, to address a few lines to you, for I 
 felt the impropriety of saying that I was glad or rejoiced to 
 hear of your arrival at Rydal Mount. 
 
 A considerable time must elapse before joy or gladness can 
 be associated with Rydal Mount; yet I have at the same 
 time felt, that the grief at the departure of the husband, the 
 brother, the father, and friend, is, if not overpowered, yet modi- 
 fied by a sense of his greatness, and of the imperishability of 
 such a mind ! 
 
 " For when the Mighty pass away, 
 What is it more than this, 
 That man who is from God sent forth 
 Doth yet again to God return? " 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 May 24, 1850. 
 There will be conflicting opinions and tastes about the mon- 
 ument. One set of committee men would willingly make 
 Wordsworth's name available for their sectarian purposes. 
 This man says, '' Devote the surplus to a Church " ; '' A School,'' 
 says a second; "An Almshouse,'' says a third ; "A Scholarship 
 in an old University," says a fourth. Against all these my 
 friend Kenyon protests with warmth : " I would give largely 
 to do Wordsworth honor, but nothing to a W^ordsworth 
 institute." 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 May 24, 1850. 
 
 I am now going to startle you, by informing you of a scheme 
 or project which has been formed by Masquerier and me ; and 
 if his and his wife's and my health all remain as they at 
 present are, we hope to carry it into execution in about a 
 week's time. And this scheme is to engage not more than 
 eight or nine days of our time. 
 
 It is to take a trip — the final visit of both of us, probably 
 — to Paris. Masquerier, you know, is of French origin, and 
 
400 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 is more of a Frenchman in speech, and intimate knowledge of 
 the country, than any other friend of mine, though he has no 
 near friends or acquaintance there. He has survived most of 
 his old associates ; yet he feels an interest in the country, and 
 wishes to see it in its Eepublican state. And it has been for 
 nearly a year the design of Masquerier and myself to take this 
 journey, leaving Mrs. Masquerier in the mean while at Dover 
 or Folkestone, where she is to be joined by Masquerier's niece, 
 Fanny. 
 
 And lately Mr. Brown, the husband of Miss Coutts's former 
 governess, has agreed to join our party. I suppose I am ex- 
 pected to supply animal spirits, and he, by implication, I pre- 
 sume, undertakes to w^atch over our bodies and health, and do 
 his best to set us right if we go wrong. And, without a joke, 
 it is really agreeable, in one's seventy-sixth year, to have a 
 medical travelling companion 
 
 [This visit to Paris was made ; the party set out on the 4:th 
 of June and returned on the 21st. A few extracts are all 
 that will be given from the journal.] 
 
 June 7th. — Visited the Louvre. I saw many old acquaint- 
 ance, but nothing new that was remarkable, excepting the 
 Nineveh remains, which the French consul sent over. In size 
 they are far superior to our importations. They are quite 
 colossal, and throw ours into the shade. I speak only of the 
 first importation. I dare say Layard brought what the con- 
 sul would have despised, — small articles, remains in metal, 
 &c. Layard's last excavations may have been more produc- 
 tive. I remarked with surprise the almost entire absence of 
 English visitors. This was noticeable also in the streets. At 
 our restaurant in the Eue St. Honore, Poole, the comic writer, 
 was pointed out to me ; but he looks a wreck. 
 
 June 8th. — On breakfasting in the Tuileries gardens, I 
 learned that Mr. Brown had procured us tickets for the Na- 
 tional Assembly, to which we were to go betw^een one and two. 
 We therefore did nothing but lounge over our breakfast, and 
 saunter to the Assembly. We found a back place in the gal- 
 lery, and sat there till past four. The Hall is spacious, and 
 the spectator sees the w^hole at once. It was an interesting 
 sight, and merely a sight, for, though I could distinguish a 
 few sentences, I in fact understood nothing. A great deal of 
 business was done. The Speaker (M. Dupin), a busy, active 
 
1850.] ENTHUSIASTS INTOLERANT. 401 
 
 man, had much to do. The house was not full, and the mem- 
 bers were running about, though each had his seat and desk. 
 Many were writing, and some reading the papers. The Presi- 
 dent w^as on an elevated seat or throne, and five or six persons 
 were with him. Some notables were named, but I could dis- 
 tinguish no face. The question under discussion was whether 
 the electoral law should be retrospective. The speech we 
 heard was read from the tribune, which was under the Presi- 
 dent's seat, as a clerk's desk is under the pulpit ; and the 
 
 reader of the speech, a General -, received shakes of the 
 
 hand from his friends on descending from the tribune. On a 
 later occasion (the 10th) I heard Emile Barrot. 
 
 Ju72e 11th. — It is worth mentioning, that on my inquiring 
 for two of the most popular of George Sand's late works, I 
 was told ^^ they w^ere not wanted now : in a time of revolution 
 no one had leisure to read novels." This was repeated, and 
 very gravely. Yet Paris was still the old Paris. The gayety 
 of the Champs Elysees was quite exhilarating. 
 
 Ju?ie 13th. — I w^ent to the Theatre Francais and saw '' An- 
 dromaque." I have no doubt Madame Rachel deserved all 
 the applause she received in Hermione. Her recitation may 
 be perfect, but a Frenchman only can be excited to enthusiasm 
 by such merits. She wants the magical tones, and the mar- 
 vellous eye, and the majestic figure of Mrs. Siddons. The 
 forte of Rachel, I dare say, is her expression of scorn and in- 
 di2:nation. It was in giving vent to these feelings that she 
 drew down thunders of applause. 
 
 This journey afforded me the pleasure of meeting some of 
 the most agreeable Americans I have ever seen, — two ladies, 
 
 who are well known in connection with the antislaverv move- 
 
 t/ 
 
 ment, Mrs. Follen and Mrs. Chapman, both friends of Harriet 
 Martineau. Mrs. Chapman is an enthusiast ; and there is this 
 drawback in the society of all enthusiasts, that they are dis- 
 contented if you do not go all lengths with them, and they 
 will seldom allow themselves to talk on any other than their 
 own special topic, Mrs. Follen is going to Heidelberg, and I 
 have given her a letter to Mrs. Benecke. 
 
 On Thursday, 15th of August, I set out on a visit to Rydal, 
 where I remained a week. I went to see Mrs. Wordsworth, 
 whom I found admirably calm and composed. No complaint 
 or lamentation from her. I went also to talk with Dr. Words- 
 worth about the Memoir he is writing. 
 
4:02 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 September 2d. — Miss Denman informed me of the death of 
 one of the most esteemed of my friends, — George Young. He 
 was one of the very best talkers I ever met with. His good sense 
 and judgment were admirable. Without imagination or lively 
 abilities, his judgment was perfect. I enjoyed his company, 
 and I have sustained an irreparable loss. 
 
 September 16th. — At Mortlake took a luncheon-dinner with 
 the Taylors and Miss Fen wick. Mr. Aubrey de Yere, a very 
 gentlemanly as well as superior young man, was there ; the 
 conversation was of a very interesting character. De Vere is 
 a poet and liberal, a thinker and a man of sentiment. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 October 11, 1850. 
 
 I will for once break through all order, by relating what I 
 have heard since I began to write on this second side of my 
 paper. I asked Babington Macaulay, the historian : '' What is 
 the fact as to the reputed secession of Henry Wilberforce from 
 the Anglican to the Roman Catholic Church ] " Macaulay 
 answering, " I believe he has gone over," another gentleman 
 said, " He has announced it himself to the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury." Macaulay then added : " I can tell you this, — 
 the Bishop of Oxford wrote to the Archbishop to inquire how 
 he should behave towards his brother. The Archbishop an- 
 swered, * Like a brother.' " 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. 
 
 November 1, 1850. 
 There was a time when I could not comprehend how it could 
 be possible for a length of time to feed on one's own thoughts, 
 without any aid from books or conversation. I find that I have 
 now a faculty of so amusing myself, of which I had formerly 
 no conception. Thus much I will say, that I do not consider 
 it so certainly a good thing to be able, without ennui, to pass 
 hours and days in a dreamy and musing state. In a young 
 man it would be evidence of an inert and torpid state of the 
 mind, which is opposed to all useful labor and salutary energy. 
 But there is a period in life at which when a man is arrived he 
 may without reproach allow himself to indulge in this, which 
 has been called a fool's paradise. And if it be allowed to fix 
 an age, surely it may be settled to be that age, viz., threescore 
 and ten, which the ancient Scriptures declare to be the bound- 
 
1850.] PAPAL AGGRESSION. 403 
 
 ary of human life, or rather of human activity. So I have 
 comforted myself, when I have been on the point of reproach- 
 ing myself for inactivity : and so it is that I am inclined to 
 consider all that I now do as a sort of posthumous activity. I 
 should hold forth this doctrine wdth more satisfaction, if I coidd 
 fall back on the recollection of an active life in youth. 
 
 November Sd. — I attended the University College Council. 
 The members went up to the Flaxman Gallery, and were warm 
 in its praise. Indeed, the casts look very beautifully; and I shall 
 not be reproached hereafter, I am sure, for having drawn the 
 College into this scrape. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 30th November, 1850. 
 
 Though you live very retired, and hear very little of what is 
 going on in the world, yet I own I did expect you would tell 
 me — or if not you, that Sarah would tell me — something of 
 what is doing and saying in your town about the Papal aggres- 
 sion [that is the term]. What do the Evangelicals say who 
 worship under the auspices of Mr. Kemp *? and what the High 
 and dry old Church of England, who follow the soberer counsels 
 of Mr. Hasted or Mr. Pelew? I am curious in these matters, 
 not on account of the individual men, but because they are the 
 representatives of classes. For the same reason I should like 
 to know w^hether your orthodox Non-cons follow the sterner 
 Presbyterians of the North, who have lost none of their antip- 
 athy to the Pope ; or whether they join the Anti-State-Church 
 Association party, who avow that they see little or no difference 
 between the Roman and the Angio-Catholic Churches. To my 
 judgment, this is the most mischievous of the sects now busy, 
 as the most foolish is that of the men who think that an in- 
 significant matter is made too much of I confess myself to be 
 an alarmist, and a very serious alarmist too. The Ministry are 
 in a fix, — to use the Yankee phrase, — a pretty considerable 
 fix ; and they have an adversary who will not fail to take ad- 
 vantage of any mistake. Now the Scylla and Charybdis be- 
 tween which the helmsmen of the state have to steer are, on 
 the one side, the trimnph which would be given to the Papal 
 government by submitting to its assumption ; and, on the other 
 side, the sympathy which would be excited by seeming perse- 
 cution. Yet surely thus much might be done with safety, — an 
 
404 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 absolute prohibition of any territorial title taken from any part 
 of England and Wales. Lord Beaumont, the Eoman Catholic 
 has pointed at this as the gist of the complaint.* 
 
 The Flaxman Gallery will at least shed a ray of beauty over 
 the College. It will be in its way the most beautiful thinor to 
 be seen, perhaps, anywhere, and I shall not grudge the c^st 
 whatever it may be to myself I dare not hope that you will 
 ever recover sufficiently to come up and see it. But I flatter 
 myself that, some forty or fifty years hence, when you and I 
 shall be dead and forgotten, except by a very few, Henry will 
 look at the beautiful gallery and say : '*It was an uncle of 
 mine that was the prime mover in founding this gallery. It 
 was through his influence that Miss Denman offered, and the 
 College accepted, a gift of the casts." 
 
 H. C. R TO T. R. 
 
 December 7, 1850. 
 I incline to think I should have agreed with Mr. Eyre,t 
 rather than with Dr. Donaldson, on the subject of Papal aggres- 
 sion ; for I am an alarmist^ and fear that the Doctor is not suffi- 
 ciently aware of the extent of the danger in which the country 
 is placed. You also seem to me to belong to the class of in- 
 differentists. I have begun an article on this subject, which 
 has been on my mind for the last few days, almost to the ex- 
 clusion of all others. 
 
 Dear Charles Lamb once wrote to me, inquiring whether he 
 had not a clear right of action against a certain C. L. for send- 
 ing very stupid articles to the Monthly Magazine, signed C. L., 
 because they were injurious to C. Lamb's literary reputation. 
 I was forced to opine that, according^to the English law, a fool 
 does not, by being a fool, lose the right to the use of his own 
 name, however obnoxious that use may be to a wise man having 
 the same, and that this applies to initials. 
 
 * On this subject H. C. R. felt very strongly, and wrote a long letter, which 
 was published in the Christian Reformer^ Vol. VII. New Series, p. 9: " Protest 
 against Unitarian Advocacy of Non-resistance to the Pope's Bull." In this 
 letter H. C. R. says : " I do not presume to say — what none but a lawyer 
 could dictate — what precise measure of prohibition the government should 
 adopt. I rejoice to find that the Duke of Norfolk has adopted the wise declar- 
 ation of Lord Beaumont, who, with admirable propriety, has asserted the im- 
 portant difference between appointing a bishop to rule over the Romanists 
 dwelling within a given district, and erecting Sees within her Majesty's domin- 
 ions; which these Catholic Peers acknowledge to be an insolence to which the 
 Queen of England ought not to submit." 
 
 t A Bury clergyman. 
 
1861.] A SAD CHRISTMAS AT RYDAL. 405 
 
 Mrs. Wordsworth to H. C. R. 
 
 December 30, 1850. 
 
 My very dear Friend, — Finding from an affectionate letter 
 I have just received from our common friend, now Lady Cran- 
 worth, that you are in town, I cannot let tkis^ to me, year of 
 affliction pass over my head without expressing how much you 
 have been in my thoughts at this season, which used to be 
 cheered by your presence. I did not, as heretofore, — for I 
 had not the wish, — claim a right to your company at our 
 Christmas board. I need not explain w^hy, — you would un- 
 derstand the feeling. But, dear friend, I trust it may not be 
 very long before we may see you again as one of us, who for a 
 time remain. 
 
 I have often said this last year has done more to make a 7'eal 
 old woman of me than all the preceding eighty years of my life 
 put together. However, I have good cause to be thankful for, 
 in other respects, the enjoyment of perfect health and a multi- 
 tude of blessings in this, my bereaved state. 
 
 God bless you, dear friend, for all your kindness to me and 
 mine, and believe me ever to be sincerely yours. 
 
 1851. 
 
 At the beginning of this year my brother Habakkuk died. 
 He died without pain. He had lost both his sight and his 
 power of walking. Still, when I saw him, he was apparently 
 happy. It is a subject for grateful satisfaction that we are able 
 to accommodate ourselves to such deprivations. A chief grati- 
 fication with him must have been musing. I have this faculty 
 also in an eminent degree, and exercise it in a way that no 
 one could imagine. And I believe it will be my"^ resource 
 hereafter. 
 
 On the 11th I went to Bagshot to be present at the 
 funeral. 
 
 January 15th, — I was detained in town by the wish to at- 
 tend a meeting of the committee of the Flaxman statue. It 
 took place at half past two at Watson's studio. Peter Cunning- 
 ham, Sir Charles Eastlake, Dr. Darling, and one or two others, 
 were there. A gentleman, in the name of the executor, ac- 
 cepted the offer of the money raised, and to be raised, though 
 it should amount to not much more than £ 300. Sir C. East- 
 lake produced an address to the public, soliciting further sub- 
 
406 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 scriptions, and stating that the statue would be presented to 
 the University College, in order to be united to the works in 
 the Flaxman Gallery. This was objected to by Dr. Darling. 
 He thought that should be left open. On this 1 interposed, 
 and expressed a wish that the Doctor would see the gallery ; 
 and it was agreed that we should go there. The moment he 
 entered the gallery he declared his scruples to be at an end. 
 He expected nothing so beautiful. He only hoped it would be 
 open to the public. 
 
 January 18th, — The business of the Wordsworth monu- 
 ment was gone into, but not much done, — £1,100 subscribed; 
 and the secretaries are to address to artists a circular request 
 for designs. The party was not large. The most interesting 
 person was Ruskin, who talks well and looks better. He has 
 a very delicate and most gentlemanly countenance and manners. 
 We talked about the Quarterly review of Southey, and th6 
 demerit of the article. 
 
 . H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, January 18, 1851. 
 
 .... Mr. and Miss Rogers are returned from Brighton. 
 Both she and he are able to drive out every day. He gives up 
 his numerous breakfast-parties, but wishes to have every morn- 
 ing one or two friends to come at half past ten. I am going 
 to him to-day. His clever lad Edmund manages everything 
 for him. 
 
 Yesterday I had at breakfast Dr. Donaldson, Dr. Boott, 
 
 Sharpe the Egyptian, and Edwin Field. The morning went 
 
 off exceedingly well. Dr. Donaldson made himself most 
 
 agreeable. Boott said he had not for twenty years seen a 
 
 man with such brilliancy and depth combined. Field I have 
 
 not seen since, but he looked charmed. It is really a great 
 
 advantage to have such a man to show to one's friends. He 
 
 is a greater treat than pate de Perigord, But it is time to get 
 
 up and dress. 
 
 Athen.eum, p. m. 
 
 I have had an interesting two hours with Rogers. There 
 were four of us : the others were Henry Sharpe and Moxon. 
 Rogers talks as well as ever. 
 
 I am glad to find that you felt in harmony with my " Pro- 
 test." Donaldson praises it. The difference of opinion on all 
 writings (almost) is a subject of curious observation. It occurs 
 
1851.] QUILLINAN. — ROBERTSON. 407 
 
 to me, however, that the opinion of the book is generally more 
 influenced by the sentiment towards the writer than is gen- 
 erally supposed. We think that our opinion of literary men is 
 formed by our estimate of their works. But we often mistake 
 in this. As to myself, I think I can trace both praise to liking, 
 and censure to dislike. Of course I would not establish this 
 into a rule. 
 
 January 22d, — Amused myself by reading Godwin on 
 Sepulchres. It did not give me the old pleasure. The gross 
 materialism is an incurable blot. How^ monstrous to affirm 
 that every particle of mould has once thought, and that the 
 ashes are the real man ! This is as bad physics as metaphysics. 
 
 QUILLINAN TO H. C. K 
 
 Monday, February 3, 1851. 
 .... I have some hesitation in sending you the enclosed, 
 one of many utisuspected sitspiria of mine ; * for such things 
 are almost too sacred for the light in one's own lifetime. 
 These stanzas flowed into and out of my mind yesterday morn- 
 ing of their own accord, as, on looking out when I got up, I 
 found our vale and mountains, as I have occasionally observed 
 them before, a very miniature of the plain of Grenada and the 
 Sierra Nevada, though Ambleside is but a poor substitute for 
 the Saracen city w4th its Alhambra. You will hardly have 
 time to look at such things now, at the opening of Parliament, 
 when your head is full of war against the Pope.f .... 
 
 Fehruary 15th (Brighton). — I had a three hours' chat with 
 Robertson. A very interesting talk, of course. He said : " I 
 feel myself more comfortable in the Church of England than I 
 did. I feel I have a mission, and that, if I live a few years, it 
 will not be in vain. That mission is, to impress on minds of 
 a certain class of intellect, that there is a mass of substantial 
 truth in the Church of England, which will remain when the 
 vulgar orthodox Church perishes, as probably it soon will." 
 He used expressions very like those of Donaldson, and I have 
 no doubt he is with perfect sincerity, and without any con- 
 
 * These suspiria were the stanzas in p. 262 of " Poems by Edward Quilli- 
 nan." The stanzas are very beautiful, especially in the references to the death 
 of Dora and her father. 
 
 t Quillinan tells me Lander's witticism about *' Quillinanities (see p. 240) 
 was not original. 
 
408 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24 
 
 straint, a firm believer in the doctrines he professes. It is true 
 that he understands almost every orthodox doctrine in a refined 
 sense, and such as would shock the mass of ordinary Christians. 
 I told him of my notions on Papal aggression, and he so far agrees 
 that he thinks the government does right in resisting the. as- 
 sumption of titles. 
 
 February 18th. — (At Masquerier's, Brighton.) We had 
 calls soon after breakfast. The one to be mentioned was that 
 of Faraday, one of the most remarkable men of the day, the 
 very greatest of our discoverers in chemistry, a perfect lec- 
 turer in the unaffected simplicity and intelligent clearness of 
 his statement ; so that the learned are instructed and the ig- 
 norant charmed. His personal character is admirable. When 
 he was young, poor, and altogether unknown, Masquerier was 
 kind to him ; and now that he is a great man he does not for- 
 get his old friend. We had a dinner-party, and an agreeable 
 evening ; Dr. King, Dr. Williams, Miss Mackintosh, &c. The 
 interesting man of the party was Ross, the Presbyterian 
 minister, with whom I had much talk on theology, more, in- 
 deed, than would seem right ; but I am told that we interested 
 the company. Ross is learned in German theology, and a great 
 admirer, as well as friend, of Julius Hare. Therefore libera] 
 beyond the ordinary measure allowed to the ministers of the 
 Scotch Church.* 
 
 March 2d, — Heard Robertson twice. In the morning ex- 
 cellent, but his language too liable to be mistaken. For in- 
 stance, he said : '^ That men were not to believe on authority, 
 nor because the speaker was confirmed by miracles, or an- 
 nounced by prophecy, but because what Christ said was true ; 
 that Christ did not claim to be listened to but for his word's 
 sake ; that what he said was not true because he said it, but 
 he said it because it was true." The point to be established 
 was, that it is the habit of obedience and the will which give 
 the power to know, not the understanding ; that is, in spirit- 
 ual concerns. 
 
 April 11th. — I received last night a copy of the " Memoir 
 of Wordsworth." I have as yet read no part but that which 
 respects my journey with him.f 
 
 March Jfth. — At the Athenaeum with Dr. Boott and Dr. 
 
 * Mr. Ross is now a clergyman of the Church of England. 
 
 t Mr. Robinson contributed to the Memoir a letter giving a brief account of 
 his tour with Wordsworth in 1837, a fuller account of which has already 
 been given in this work. 
 
1851.] BUNSEN. — AGE AND INTELLECT. 409 
 
 Donaldson. The term soiciid Divine being used, I said : " I do 
 not know what is a sound divine," quoting Pope, — 
 
 " Dulness is sacred in a sound divine." 
 
 " But I do," said Donaldson ; *' it is a divine who is vox et 
 prceterea nihiW 
 
 March IJfih. — T made several agreeable calls, one on Chev- 
 alier Bunsen, who was even kind, and talked with deep feeling 
 on the sad events of the times. He is zealous in favor of Ger- 
 man religion and philosophy ; and while he honors the practical 
 philosophy of the English, deplores that their religion is with- 
 out ideas. He thinks highly of Kenrick, — more, I suspect, 
 than of Donaldson ; though he thinks, with Donaldson, that 
 the root of the evil, in vulgar orthodoxy, is in the false notions 
 of inspiration and bibliolatry. He quite frightened a poor 
 Evangelical archdeacon by telling him that the Book of Daniel 
 could not have been written earlier than the second century 
 before Jesus Christ. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 6th April, 1851. 
 
 .... I never felt myself stronger, and polite people say I 
 never looked better, than now ; but it is continually occurring 
 to me that one of these days the Times '' obituary " may con- 
 tain one of its minion paragraphs : " On the — th instant, 
 after a few hours' indisposition, of a congestion of the brain, 
 aged 7-, H. C. R., &c., &c., (fee, (fee." 
 
 You won't consider this as a melancholy paragraph, I am 
 sure. The only part of it that I should wish to have other- 
 wise is the substitution of the figure 8 for 7. You have al- 
 ready secured the eight ; neither of us wishes for the 9 in his 
 obituary. My attention is now naturally drawn to the condi- 
 tion, and particularly the mental condition, of my seniors ; and 
 I am led to observe a distinction between that weakening of 
 the faculties which is universal and inevitable, — such as the 
 loss of memory and slowness of comprehension, which are not 
 particularly distressing, because not very mischievous nor 
 humiliating, and which you and I are conscious of, without 
 being saddened by it, — and those aberrations and obliquities 
 of intellect which are by no means peculiar to old age, and 
 from which indeed old age is generally free. They are a great 
 affliction when they occur. May we be spared the endurance 
 
 TOL. II. 18 
 
410 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 of them, or (frequently the worse calamity) the witnessing 
 them in those we love ! 
 
 There is another incident frequent in old men, which I hope 
 is not quite so bad, and that is the being prosy and long- 
 winded in their talk and letters. I hear Sarah exclaim, 
 " He gives us the specimen and the observation at the same 
 time." And an impudent scamp at your elbow roars out, 
 " Ay ! that he does." 
 
 April 8th. — At three o'clock Prince Albert inspected the 
 Flaxman Gallery. There w^ere some half-dozen in attendance. 
 The architect,* Wood, the Baron, Wyon, Cockerell. E. W. 
 Field was there as honorary secretary. The Prince showed a 
 familiar acquaintance with the works, and wath Flaxman. He 
 afterwards went into the library, chemical laboratory, &c. At 
 first there were few, as he wished ; but his presence gradually 
 became known among the students. They all rose in the 
 library ; and when he left, they set up a shout. All went off 
 well. This is the most agreeable incident that has occun^ed to 
 us. 
 
 May 12th, — At the festival given to Kiss, Von Hofer, and 
 other foreign artists, the P. R. A. gave the Flaxman Gallery as 
 a toast, and my name with it, and asked me to make a little 
 speech to the artists in German. I had a very agreeable talk 
 with the great sculptors I have named. Kiss, from Berlin, is 
 a fine fellow, sturdy and vigorous, like O'Connell. In my 
 speech I addressed some remarks in German, on the reproach 
 against the English as utilitarians. My praise of Flaxman 
 was well received. 
 
 [In 1851 Mr. Bobinson made a tour with his friends Mas- 
 querier and Brown to Berlin, Dresden, Leipsic, Frankfort, &c. 
 At BerUn he saw Jacob Grimm, Ludwig Tieck, and Pro- 
 fessor Ranke ; but the passages which will be given relate 
 chiefly to his interviews with the Savigny family, " Bettina," 
 and the Arndts.] 
 
 June 8th. — (Berlin.) Between twelve and one o'clock I 
 was at Savigny's, the great lawyer and Minister of Justice. I 
 had written a short note to Frau von Savigny ; but she being 
 from home, I gave it to the servant, and in a few minutes he 
 returned. Most cordial was my reception from Savigny, — 
 *• Sind Sie der alte Robinson ? Ich hielt Siefur starker.''^ (Are 
 you the old Robinson'? I thought you were stronger.) And 
 
 * Professor T. L. Donaldson. 
 
1851.] THE SAVIGNYS. — BETTINA. — KUNIGUNDA. 411 
 
 when I left at night, his concluding words were, " Ihre Ankunft 
 ist eine frohe TJ eherraschung T (Your arrival is a joyful sur- 
 prise.) For more than half an hour, inquiries were exchanged 
 and family histories related. Frau von Savigny said at night 
 I was not altered in the least, and such I could honestly as- 
 sure her was the case with her. As she has marks from the 
 small-pox and is plain, she has been a gainer by old age, as is 
 the case with all of us ugly people. After a talk of between 
 one and two hours, I was invited to come in the evening, and 
 on leaving at night was told that at nine they take tea, and I 
 should be always expected at that hour. This is a most 
 agTeeable arrangement. In the evening came the celebrated 
 Bettina. I had an impression that she would not feel very 
 friendly towards me, but she gave me her hand cordially. 
 Her manners are odd, — those of a self-willed person, — as her 
 opinions are those of one who thinks for herself. She is plain, 
 — as plain as one so intellectual can be. She lives in constant 
 opposition to the Savignys in all matters of controversy. But 
 they avoid controversy. I observed that when Bettina ex- 
 pressed herself strongly, ^^die Gundel," that is Kunigunda, 
 was silent. And so when ^' die Gundel" spoke first, no direct 
 contradiction came from Bettina, though opposite opinions 
 were expressed. Frau von Savigny is a Conservative, holds 
 Lord Palmerston in abhorrence, and thinks that he is the 
 source of all the calamities of the time. Essentially her hus- 
 band entertains the same opinion, but with a becoming mod- 
 eration. The Minister thinks that the state of Prussia is not 
 so bad as we imagine ; but his wife was unable to defend the 
 King against the charge of abandoning the Schleswig-Holstein- 
 ers. Bettina is an oppositionist, and thinks the King misled. 
 All represent him to be a well-intending man. Frau von 
 Savigny speaks of Bettina's works with admiration. In spite 
 of their differences of opinion, she has pride in her sister. 
 Bettina says that the family are Italian, and that " die Gun- 
 del " is an apostate for not espousing the Italian cause. Italy 
 will yet rise and become great. " Die Gundel " says Bettina 
 is misled by her humanity, — she thinks the oppressed alwws 
 in the right. On my admitting that England treated Ireland 
 ill, Bettina said, " No nation can reproach England on that 
 ground ; all have their Ireland." I recollect an eloquent de- 
 fence of the Tyrolese by Bettina. 
 
 Bettina's daughters are charming girls. The eldest, who 
 refused to marry one of the Princes of Prussia, a nephew of 
 
412 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. Chap. 24. 
 
 the King, is a most interesting girl. And one of them has 
 filled the Savignys' house with original paintings. They may 
 have merit, but the coloring is not agreeable. I saw three of 
 these daughters, — all interesting. I find them admirers of Ma- 
 caulay and Dickens. They probably share more of their mother's 
 than their aunt's opinions. I saw Savigny's eldest son. He is a 
 handsome young man, as Savigny is a fine man approaching old 
 age. Frau von Savigny, especially in the evening, appeared 
 very agreeable, and revives my youthful impression of her. 
 Her good-humor and vivacity are attractive. And Savigny is 
 the same dignified person he was in youth. I should state 
 that he resigned office as Minister of Justice at the Revolution, 
 and would on no account resume it. He must, therefore, be 
 discontented with the state of things, though rejoicing in the 
 reaction, which indeed, he said, is the salvation of Germany. 
 He praised the conduct of the soldiers. The day after he 
 resigned his place he began again to write, — and in that he 
 is great. 
 
 June 12th. — Between eight and nine o'clock at the Savignys'. 
 There came Jacob Grimm and others ; amongst them the Yon 
 Arnims. 
 
 June 13th, — I called at Professor Ranke's, and first saw Mrs. 
 Ranke, the sister of Graves, who lives near Ambleside, and also 
 of our ex-Professor of Law at the University College, who mar- 
 ried a daughter of William Tooke. Soon afterwards her hus- 
 band came in, but I saw him for a few minutes only, as he had 
 to give a lecture. I stayed a long time with Mrs. Ranke. She 
 is a very sujDcrior woman. She praised with warmth Mrs. Words- 
 worth, thinking her almost greater than her husband. She is 
 now a lover of Wordsworth's poetry, being a convert from Lord 
 Byron. She is in religious matters very liberal, praising warmly 
 Martineau's sermons ; and so little of a bigot that she allowed 
 Frau von Savigny to be godmother to her child. And what 
 she said on this matter was confirmed by Herr von Savigny, viz., 
 that in baptism the Roman Catholics and Protestants become 
 godfathers and godmothers indiscriminately. In spite of the 
 strength of their assurance that this is the practice of the 
 Roman Catholics everywhere, I believe this would not be per- 
 mitted by either party in England. 
 
 Madame Ranke praised Savigny as warmly as he praised her ; 
 but she sees them seldom, owing to her ill health. She lives a 
 recluse life, and therefore my visit was quite an enjoyment to 
 her. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
1851.] LUDWIG TIECK. — AT DRESDEN 413 
 
 June 13th, — Called on Ludwig Tieck. His memory put 
 mine to shame, though he is more than eighty, and only just 
 recovering from an alarming illness. He was on his sofa. He 
 goes to bed very early, and would have received me in bed, which 
 I should have allowed him to do in the evening, had I not pro- 
 cured the postponement of our journey. 
 
 I went again to Savigiiy's, walking first into the forest or 
 pleasure-grounds (beyond the Brandenburger Thor), of which 
 I had never heard, but shall, I expect, see more of. They seem 
 to be the Kensington Gardens of Berlin. At Savigny's the same 
 party, — that is, the Von Arnims. I am charmed with the 
 young ladies, but the mother is as odd as ever. Frau von Sa- 
 vigny is too ill to go away to-day, as was intended, but I have 
 formally taken leave. 
 
 June 15th. — I had a very interesting lounge and gossip with 
 the second of the young ladies (Von Arnims), to whom I have 
 promised to send a book under cover to Lord Westmorelan^d. 
 
 Her mother came down with her hands covered with clay. 
 She is, with the assistance of Schonhauser, working on the 
 model for Goethe's monument, to be sent up at Frankfort. I 
 saw a large painting of hers in the house. Of the merits of 
 these works I do not pretend to have an opinion ; but she is un- 
 questionably a woman of a great variety of talents. 
 
 June 16th. — (At Dresden.) Took a short walk after dinner, 
 and found that I remembered much of the city, though a great 
 part of it seems new, and not quite so gay as I had fancied it. 
 In one respect we were ver}^ lucky. Schlegel's Shakespeare's 
 *' Twelfth Night," called Was Ihr tvollt^W'ds, played, and greatly 
 to our satisfaction. The only mortification was, that I had such 
 a faint recollection of Shakespeare. But Brown, who recollected 
 more, could follow the translation throughout. Tt seemed to us 
 admirably given. Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, and 
 Malvolio, all seemed to us quite in conformity with the English 
 conception of the characters. A Madame Baier Biirck played 
 both Viola and Sebastian ; and, when personating the latter, 
 she gave a manliness to her voice and step which would have 
 almost deceived us as to her identity. There was, of necessity, 
 a change in the text at last. Another person, who managed to 
 conceal his face, came in as Sebastian. 
 
 Jul^ 6th. — (Bonn.) A fortunate day. Walked to Arndt's 
 house ; there I was met by his son with a smiling countenance. 
 The father was detained from home on business. Arndt, Jun., 
 retJimed with me to the Star Hotel, and we met the old gentle- 
 
414 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 man near the gate. He engaged me to come and take coffee 
 at four. Accordingly at that time I returned to the Professor's, 
 and had a most delightful talk with them till seven. Our con- 
 versation was diversified by the presence of two Schleswig 
 clergymen, who have been banished because they refused to 
 preach in Danish, and teach the Danish language, which the 
 people will not learn, and they cannot teach. This is a bar- 
 barism worthy the ally of Russia, and which the Times has not 
 censured as it ought. Our three hours' talk was in an arbor 
 fronting the Rhine, and affording a view of the Siebengebirge, 
 especially the Drachenfels. We had a second confab of two 
 hours in the hoit^e. There were present two other sons of the 
 Professor, his wife, an agreeable, unpretending old lady, and 
 her only daughter, — a very pleasing girl. 
 
 I know not when I have had such a treat as in listening to 
 Arndt, who, being eighty-two years of age, has a youthful vigor 
 and animal spirits which are quite marvellous. The character 
 of his mind is as youthful as his voice and physical qualities. 
 He really inspires me with hope which I had lost for the 
 human race. He acknowledges the sad condition of Germany 
 at the present moment, owing to the follies and misconduct of 
 the people, w^ho abused the power of which they lost possession 
 very soon. And he is not blind to the attempts made by a 
 party to crush the struggling liberties of the people ; but he 
 holds it impossible that this should be carried out, and is a 
 most firm and zealous asserter that the civilized world is in a 
 state of progress. He says that he can recollect between sixty 
 and seventy years, and knows that in that interval, in Germany, 
 men eat and drink, and in all respects live, better than they 
 did. They are better dressed, are cleaner, and less corrupt 
 and vicious in their lives. The higher classes cannot oppress 
 the lower as they used to do, and humanity has advanced. 
 This I rejoice to believe, and I try to think that it is all strictly 
 correct, and not to any great degree the delusion arising out 
 of Arndt 's peculiar temperament. 
 
 Arndt also dwelt upon his favorite topic, the original diver- 
 sity of races, to which he attaches so great an importance, and 
 which goes far towards reconciling him to certain enormities 
 in the history of civilization as inevitable and therefore par- 
 donable. 
 
 He asserted at the same time his firm belief in God, im- 
 mortality, and th.e essential truth of Christianity. He does 
 not shrink from the language of orthodoxy, but it is clear that 
 
 
1851.] ARNDT ON THE RHINE PROTESTANTS. — ON LANDOR. 415 
 
 he cares nothing for orthodoxy. Yet he feels the necessity of 
 order, and holds the freie Gemeinde in contempt. He con- 
 firmed what I had heard before, that no one is questioned as 
 to his creed, and all who contribute to the maintenance of the 
 Church have a voice in the election of the minister. It is not 
 necessary to take the Sacrament in order to be allowed to vote ; 
 and none but an open and scornful enemy would be excluded. 
 Here on the Rhine, where the Protestants are a small minority, 
 there is a legally established Presbyterian form of government. 
 In the other provinces of Prussia, there are superintendents, 
 another name for bishops, who, as the leaders of a clerical 
 body, are acknowledged, — but not as a distinct class. These 
 are merely each primus inter pares, Arndt speaks as con- 
 temptuously as Arnold himself did of the supposed Apostolic 
 succession. I may hereafter, perhaps, recollect more of his 
 conversation. I will merely now repeat a mot which he quoted 
 from Luther : " He who is not handsome at twenty, strong at 
 thirty, learned at forty, and rich at fifty, will not be handsome, 
 strong, learned, or rich in this world." 
 
 Other notes of Arndt' s conversation may be given here. 
 Calling on him in the autumn of 1847, I found him reading 
 Landor's works. Julius Hare had sent him a copy, as well as 
 two volumes of his own sermons, lately published. Arndt 
 was full of admiration of Lander's j ust perception of the Italian 
 life and character, and w^as as enthusiastic as ever in his talk. I 
 enjoyed highly the hours spent with him. A bust of Schleier- 
 macher led to the information that Arndt's wife is Schleier- 
 macher's sister. We spoke of the state of religion. Arndt 
 said : '' No good, except indirectly, will come c^f the new German 
 Catholic Church ; but a freer spirit is now stirring among the 
 German Protestant clergy. They take the Bible as their Norm, 
 but every man puts his own sense on it. So do I. I am a 
 Christian. I believe in a sort of Revelation, — einer Art von 
 Offenharung. I do not believe that the Maker of heaven and 
 earth was crucified, nor that the Holy Spirit is a person. I 
 w^orship Christ as a holy person. He is the purest and highest 
 form of humanity ever known ; but I do not pretend to know 
 anything of the mystery of his nature. That is no concern of 
 mine. But I take the Scripture as the guide of life ; and if I 
 could only act up to one half of what it teaches, it would be 
 well. I am for the Bible, and against the priests.". ... On 
 politics he spoke hopefully. He thinks the world improving. 
 " We have no Volker-reckt in Germany, but we have a Pi^inzen- 
 
416 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 privat-recht This Danish succession question conceras the 
 ^ princes, and they take it up; and it happens that the people 
 and the princes are on the same side. The people won't let 
 Germany be separated : that is all they care for, — not who is 
 Duke of Holstein and Schleswig." 
 
 In 1856, when I was again in Bonn, old Arndt was living at 34 
 in the Cohlenzer Strasse, a handsome suburb. I was recot^nized 
 by Mrs. Arndt. The old patriot was attending a funeral. It 
 suited all parties that I should be left to my after-dinner nap, 
 from which he awoke me. He was the same as ever, and the 
 more remarkable because of his age (eighty-seven).* His flow 
 of talk, or declamation, was in quantity equalled only by Cole- 
 ridge ; the tone different, — Arndt having a sharp, loud, laugh- 
 ing voice ; his topics always recurring, — the difference of race 
 and the science of ethnology. A lover of hberty and justice, 
 yet conscious of the necessity of submitting to power. He 
 hopes for the future, but expects nothing from government. 
 After a long and most interesting talk on these subjects, he 
 proposed my accompanying them on a tea-visit, — in fact a 
 supper like those of my youth. The hostess was a widow lady 
 of the name of Hirt, — an excellent set of people of the mid- 
 dling class. Arndt talked incessantly, and w^as listened to w^ith 
 apparent admiration. 
 
 July 10th. — Called at Moxon's, where I heard of the death 
 of Quillinan, which Mrs. Wordsworth's note had made me 
 apprehend, t This is a severe blow to dear Mrs. Wordsworth, 
 after her other losses. 
 
 * Ernest Maurice Arndt died January 30, 1860. 
 
 t A short obituary of Mr. Quillinan/from the pen of H. C. R., appeared in 
 the Christian Reformer for August (1851, p. 512), some extracts from which 
 will interest the reader: — 
 
 " July 8th, at Loughrigg Holme, Ambleside, aged 59, Edward Quillinan, 
 Esq. Mr. Quillinan was of Irish birth, and educated in the Roman Catholic 
 Church. His father was a wine-merchant, resident in Portugal, where his 
 3'ounger brother still carries on the business. He entered the army early, but 
 withdrew on his first marriage with the daughter of the late Sir Egerton 
 Bridges. On the marriage of Mr. Quillinan with Miss Bridges, he entered into 
 an engagement (at one time generally, and still occasionally practised) that 
 the daughters should be educated in the faith of the mother, and the sons in 
 that of the father. And that engagement he most honorably fulfilled. After 
 the death of his wife, Mr. Q. most scnipulously discharged his promise to^ Sir 
 E. B., and never suffered a priest of his own church to enter his doors. When 
 his daughters were of a suitable age, he insisted on their punctual discharge 
 of the usual duties of social worship; and when he could not find elsewhere a 
 fit companion, would himself accompany them to the parish church. To a 
 friend who, half in jest and half in earnest, treated this as an act of unwar- 
 rantable, because inconsistent, liberality, he replied in a letter: 'If I had 
 thought the salvation of my daughters endangered by such an education, no 
 
1851.] LETTER TO PAYNTER. 417 
 
 H. C. R. TO Paynter. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, August 5, 1851. , 
 
 It will give me pleasure to hear from you, whatever you 
 have to say, and very great pleasure if you can give me, or I 
 can infer, a good account of your health, both of body and 
 mind. For instance, I shall infer that you are in a more sound 
 and sane state if I hear that you have seen and enjoyed the 
 Crystal Palace, — one of the few consolatory and redeeming 
 spectacles in this otherwise gloomy age. I am not sure I should 
 be quite pleased had you attended the festival of the anniver- 
 sary of the abolition of slavery in our colonies. I should be 
 alarmed, as at a person in too high health, — in danger from 
 plethora. But do tell me how you are and have been. I will 
 set you an example. I was six wrecks on my trip to Berlin and 
 Dresden ; and I should have come back in despair if I had not 
 an internal conviction which I am not able by reasoning to 
 justify, that in spite of the triumph of the regal and military 
 protectionists of Austria and Prussia, and of the ecclesiastical 
 protectionists of Rome and Exeter, there is something imper- 
 ishable in civil and religious liberty, and in humanity. But 
 certainly there is a dark cloud w^hich is covering the whole 
 political horizon in Saxony. Men are imprisoned for not send- 
 ing their children to be baptized, and newspapers suppressed 
 for making extracts from Gladstone's letter to Lord Aberdeen. 
 And the worst of all this is, that of late the popular party, 
 
 scruples originating in false notions of honor would have weighed with me. 
 But should any priest dare to insinuate to me that either of the excellent 
 women with whom it has been my happiness to be united was in a state of 
 
 ferdition because she had not been an acknowledged member of our Church, 
 should reply, in the indignant language of Laertes, — 
 
 " 4 tell thee, churlish priest, 
 A ministering angel shall my sister be 
 When thou liest howling.' 
 
 " Had his sudden and unexpected death not interposed, he would, probably, 
 have undertaken the editorship of Mr. Wordsworth's ' Convention of Cintra' 
 and other prose writings, for which he would have been eminently qualified: 
 he possessed considerable critical talent, and excelled in the epigram, and in 
 the familiar parlor style of fugitive poetry. He did not scruple to compose a 
 satiric poem on the late Papal "aggression, in which neither the Cardinal nor 
 his opponents were spared: for he" was one of a body, more numerous than is 
 generously supposed, who thought the Papal movement impolitic in its con- 
 sequences, as Avell as offensive in its manner. The freedom of his opinions 
 being shackled by no restraints beyond those imposed by his kindly disposi- 
 tion, his shrewd common sense and good taste rendered him a universal favor- 
 ite. He was a man of leisure, of lively social habits and activity of spirit; he 
 was a medium of communication between those who were otherwise strangers 
 to each other.— H. C. R." ^ 
 
 18* 
 
418 REMINISCENCES Of HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 24. 
 
 whenever they have had power, have acted so fooUshly as to 
 make one dread even the destruction of the tyranny they 
 
 *" resist 
 
 I feel no ennui, for I find full employment in my Reminis- 
 cences, which make me live over again my very inactive and 
 inert life ; but still it is my life, — and home is home, be it 
 ever so homely. I see scarcely any one here 
 
 H. C. R. TO Paynter. 
 
 Athen.eum, 14th September, 1851. 
 . . . Whenever you go to your club, inquire for the letter 
 from the Duke of Argyll to the Bishop of Oxford, entitled 
 " The Double Protest." It is a gem ! He is an extraordinary 
 man, this Duke of Argyll, being a duke, a Scotchman, and a 
 Presbyterian, and yet a very able man, and still young, — an 
 anomaly. 
 
 September 18th, a. M. — I am setting off for Mrs. Words- 
 worth. 
 
 This fine weather is marvellous. If this does not cure you 
 of the spleen, — that 's your grandmother's name for the dis- 
 ease, — I dare say it is hereditary, and therefore no fault of 
 yours. Talking the other day with Sam Sharpe on the com- 
 plaints of the land-owners now, he made me a wise answer : 
 " We all have it in our turn. A few years ago an Act of 
 Parliament took away one half of our income by legalizing 
 joint-stock banks. There was no use making a fuss about it. 
 We submitted then ; the squires must submit now. In the 
 end everybody is the better. Individuals must suffer when 
 the public gain.". Sharpe is by no means an optimist, and on 
 the Papal question is a great deal worse than you. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 15th November, 1851. 
 
 As long as you continue to tell me that my letters give you 
 pleasure, and I continue to have the use of my fingers, and my 
 memory suffices, I shall go on writing, though a third mind, 
 looking over what has been done, might wonder at the patience 
 of both writer and reader. I do not mean to say that this re- 
 mark is altogether applicable to my present letters ; but this 
 is the course of things. Of us seniors, I am the one who re- 
 tains the most of youthful strength ; but still the effects of 
 
1851.] LOSS OF MEMORY. — FORTHCOMINGNESS. 419 
 
 age on my habits are as manifest. My loss of memory becomes 
 daily more distressing ; and coupled with this is the additional 
 evil, that instead of not being aware of it, I imagine it to be 
 w^orse than it is. Lately I thought I had lost several stamped 
 receipts, which were to entitle me to considerable sums of 
 money from Baring's. One of the clerks there is a lover of 
 Charles Lamb's works, and I have secured his attentions by 
 giving him autographs. So I revealed my infirmity to him, 
 and begged his assistance. He found that the receipts had 
 never been delivered to me. At this moment I am in trouble, 
 from not being able to find between twenty and forty volumes 
 of the Shakespeare Society publications. They are somewhere, 
 but where ? I have no fear of their being lost ; but what we 
 cannot find when we want it is practically lost, though we may 
 be quite sure that it will be found again. This is what Jeremy 
 Bentham, in writing of evidence in law, calls forthcoming ness, 
 and he would make provision for it in his juridical institutions. 
 With me nothing is forthcoming, and I am perpetually in dan- 
 ger of forgetting the most important and necessary things. 
 
 November SOth, Sunday. — (Brighton.) Heard Robertson 
 preach an extraordinary sermon, reconciling philosophy with 
 piety in a remarkable way, 1 St. Peter i. His subject was the 
 resemblance between the revelation that had already appeared 
 and that which is to appear. In the course of the sermon, he 
 uttered a number of valuable philosophical truths, which I 
 cannot reconcile with Church doctrines, though I have no 
 doubt he does so with perfect good faith. He spoke of a di- 
 vine system of education, in the same way as Lessing speaks 
 in his works on " the Education of the Human Race." And 
 his definition of inspiration and prophecy is precisely such as 
 is contained in the Prospective Review, in an article by J. J. 
 Tayler. I know not when I have heard a discourse so full of 
 admirable matter ; and this was the impression of others ap- 
 parently. Yet he was full of Scripture allusions. I have been 
 walking with him to-day. He is greatly improved in health, 
 as his sermon showed, and does not appear to be materially 
 altered in his notions. He acknowledges that he is surprised 
 at being so long permitted to preach ; he is aware how much 
 he must be the object of distrust. 
 
 December 7th. — After breakfast an agTeeable call from Dr. 
 King, a sort of philosophical enthusiast. He is a free-thinker 
 in the best sense of the word, but a conformist. He is a con- 
 
420 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 stant attendant and a great admirer of Robertston, and calls 
 himself a Churchman ; yet to-day he spoke of the English 
 clergy as men who had five millions per annum given them to 
 misrepresent Christianity. 
 
 December 9th. — I heard Robertson both morning and after- 
 noon, and had a conversation with him in the evening. My 
 astonishment at this man increases every time I see him. This 
 morning's discourse was a continuation of the last. He con- 
 tinued his illustration of the doctrine that Judaism indirectly 
 taught what Christianity afterwards directly taught; that the 
 teaching that one day in seven was to be holy, was not to inti- 
 mate that the other days were to be unholy, but to lead to the 
 recognition that all time was to be the Lord's. As he inter- 
 prets even the words " without blood there is no remission of 
 sins," they become inoffensive, for it means no more than this, 
 — Christ died to exhibit the perfectest Christian truth, that 
 the essence of Christianity is self-sacrifice. It is the Divine 
 principle; God and man are united wherever this principle 
 reigns. I have told him that on Trinity Sunday, if possible, 
 I will go to Brighton, to hear him expound, in his way, the 
 Trinity. He considered the Christian and Atheistic ideas of 
 progress to differ in this, — Christianity teaches that man 
 could not be progTessive of himself, i. e. without Divine aid, 
 whereas the Atheistic doctrine is, that man could do it of him- 
 self, and requires no aid. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 1852. 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, London, 10th January, 1852. 
 
 WHEN you write that, next to the pleasure I have in 
 paying visits, is that you have in reading about them, 
 you remove all temptation to abstain from writing an account. 
 This feeling of yours proves that in whatever way the old age, 
 to which you have arrived, be^'ond that of any of our known 
 ancestors, may affect you, as it must, in one way or other, all 
 of us, it does not affect your moral feelings^ which are, after 
 
1852.] POINTS OF HAPPINESS COMPARED. 421 
 
 all, the best part of man. It shows that you are free from 
 envy. It never occurs to you, as it might, and the like does 
 to others, — *' There is my brother, younger by only five 
 years and four months, able to go into company continually, 
 without any apparent injury, while I lead a life of comparative 
 solitude." When this does occur to me, there occurs to me at 
 the same time, in the spirit of Mrs. Barbauld's famous essay, 
 which Henry cannot too soon have impressed on him, that I 
 and you chose diverse courses, each having its advantages and 
 disadvantages. You have through life had the comforts of do- 
 mestic life, — union for nearly thirty years with a very supe- 
 rior woman, by whom you w^ere tenderly beloved. And you 
 have had a son who, though it pleased Providence to deprive 
 you and his family of him, while still young, yet lived long 
 enough to be the object of general esteem, dying without an 
 enemy. And he too was united to an affectionate and beloved 
 wife 
 
 To think of all this is no slight pleasure, dear Thomas ; and 
 I have nothing to set oft' against it but these inferior pleasures, 
 of which I from time to time give you an account. And I am 
 not without an occasional apprehension, that, whenever infirm- 
 ity assails me, I may be without any other aid than the volun- 
 tary assistance of friends on whom I have no claim. 
 
 So on the balance of accounts we are more nearly on a par 
 than might be thought ; besides, what may not five years and 
 four months bring forth ? . . . . 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R 
 
 Athen^um, London, 24th January, 1852. 
 
 You will receive this on your birthday, I trust and hope in 
 good spirits. And if you are fully conscious of being insensi- 
 ble to many of the lower enjoyments of life, I hope you will 
 at the same time not be forgetful of this, that you, on enter- 
 ing your eighty-third year, have attained an age which few live 
 to reach, and with still fewer of the deductions from full vital- 
 ity than are generally seen among the few octogenarians. 
 
 I should have added to the above an expression of my good 
 wishes in the established form, — many returns of this day, — 
 if I had not thought that you would probably protest against so 
 undesirable a wish. This reminds me of my leave-taking of 
 Mrs. Barbauld on my going to France, anno 182- &c. She was 
 suffering from a severe cold with a cough. " I hope I shall 
 
422 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 find you better on my return." — " Why so ? " — - " That seems 
 a foolish question ; health is better than sickness." — -^ Not 
 always ; I do not wish to be better. But don't mistake me. 
 I am not at all impatient, but quite ready." 
 
 She was, I believe, a couple of years older than you are 
 now, when she died, — a few weeks after my leaye-takino:. 
 
 It was her brother w^ho wrote the couplet she might haye 
 written, and which I make no apology for repeating as a pious 
 wish : — 
 
 ** From the banquet of Life rise a satisfied giiest, 
 Thank the Lord of the Feast, and in hope go to rest.'* 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 30 Russell Square, London, 14th February, 1852. 
 
 .... My last week has not been so gay as the yisiting- 
 week was ; but it has had its full yariety of incidents of an 
 amusing and relatable quality. 
 
 On Saturday we had a Council meetmg of the Uniyersity 
 College. Our prospects are not bright, nor are they very 
 gloomy ; we haye taken our place — humble indeed, but it is 
 still a place — among the institutions of the coimtry, and 
 more in harmony with the principles you and I were trained 
 in when young, and haye not abandoned in age, than any 
 other. And I am pleased that, in this respect, w^e have 
 showed more constancy than most of our contemporaries. In 
 the evening, after taking dinner and tea at home, I stepped 
 in to Sergeant Byles's, and had a pleasant chat with them. 
 
 I dined in Regent's Park w^itli Mr. Bishop, one of our Uni- 
 versity College Council, the patriotic patron of astronomy, in 
 whose private observatory on his own grounds several planets 
 have been discovered. What an age of discovery this is ! 
 As many planets as w^ere known in the firmament before. 
 The primitive bodies in nature infinitely multiplied. Antiqui- 
 ty acknowledged but four elements ! And both the natural 
 history of the earth and the civil history of mankind acquir- 
 ing new features of marvellous interest perpetually ! 
 
 I cannot help wishing I had been born a little later in the 
 world's everlasting progress. 
 
 Tuesday I had at breakfast Dr. Boott, Edwin Field, Payn- 
 ter, Rolleston (Miss Weston's cousin), and Nineveh Layard, 
 whom the others came to meet. You perhaps, and certainly 
 Sarah, will recollect your son's having spoken of this high- 
 
1852.] A. H. LAYARD. — UNIVERSITY COLLEGE. 423 
 
 epirited lad, whom he once dined with, and used to meet in 
 my chambers. His micle accused me of misleading him. I 
 believe I did set his mind in motion, and excited in him tastes 
 and a curiosity which now will not be matter of reproach, 
 seeing that the issue has already been so remarkable. His 
 adventures in Asia terminated in his discovery of the "'^ Nin- 
 eveh Antiquities," which have given him a place in the future 
 history of art. But, more than that, he has had the means 
 of developing such personal qualities, that he has been put 
 into a place which w.ay lead to his one day occupying a prime 
 position in our political institutions. He has been appointed 
 Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs : he will now 
 show what is in him. This is a start that, of course, delights 
 his hopeful, and alarms his timid, friends. On Tuesday I 
 congratulated him on his then appointment to the office of 
 Attache to the Minister at Paris, which was first offered him. 
 On Wednesday I dined with F. Goldsmid, the Baron's eldest 
 son. And in the evening was at the Graphic Society, which 
 gives eclat to, and receives eclat from, our University College, 
 in combination with the Flaxman Gallery 
 
 February 25th, — I attended the general meeting of the 
 proprietors of University College. Unusually interesting. A 
 motion was made very ably by Quain, an M. D. of the London 
 University, in favor of graduates being admitted to a share in 
 the government of the University, and assented to universally, 
 with the exception of Samuel Sharpe and James Yates. Sir 
 James Graham filled the chair both here and at the previous 
 meeting of the council, and very ably. Richard Taylor brought 
 the Lord Mayor Hunter, and into his hands was put the reso- 
 lution thanking the Miss Denmans for the gift of the Flax- 
 man Gallery. He did it decently, considering he knew nothing 
 about the subject, and the motion was very w^ell seconded by 
 Joseph Hume. It was carried by acclamation. On this I 
 rose to return thanks for Miss Denman, which I did so-so. I 
 praised Miss Denman warmly for her attachment to Flaxman's 
 name ; and, referring to the mover, mentioned the group of 
 Athamas at the Marquis of Bristol's, near Bury, and I eulo- 
 gized Mr. Hume for not being a vulgar utilitarian. After this, 
 Tagart rose and said that, if it were not indecorous, he w^ould 
 move thanks to me for having assisted Miss Denman in her 
 work. There was a cry of " Move ! " on this, and he made 
 the motion. It was seconded very kindly by Samuel Sharpe. 
 
424 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 2o. 
 
 I was gratified by the circumstance, and returned thanks in a 
 few words. 
 
 March 1st. — I dined with Miss Coutts ; a most agreeable 
 day. Sir Charles Napier, a burly man, with the figure of an 
 alderman, but a strong face (I should not have guessed him 
 to be the fighter he is) ; Gleig, Chaplain- General to the Forces, 
 a much finer countenance, with his Peninsular ribbon with 
 three stripes ; Babbage, the militant man of science ; Bar- 
 low, &c. 
 
 March 11th, — I dined with Miss Coutts ; a large and very 
 interesting party ; twenty-two at table, and in the evening 
 there came a great number. At the dinner-party were Sir 
 James Graham* (I told him of Lamb's legacy to our hospi- 
 tal) ; Bunsen, who said he had three doses of comfort for me, 
 but I could not catch his ear afterwards ; Lord and Lady Ed- 
 ward Howard, — an interesting young man, w^ere it only on 
 account of his having induced his wnfe to marry him, and so 
 saved her from the convent. Sidney Herbert w^as there, and 
 Dr. Brewster, and the Earl of Devon, cum multis aliis. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 May 7, 1850. 
 
 .... On this day died Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, aged forty- 
 nine. An excellent woman, whom I highly esteemed. She was 
 the poet's only daughter, and the larger portion of his spirit 
 descended on her. She retained her composure of mind to the 
 last. She borrowed of me, in her last illness, a large-print 
 edition of Shakespeare. She had no scruples of conscience on 
 that point. Her head and heart were both better than her 
 creed 
 
 On Wednesday I went to a soiree at Professor De Morgan's, 
 at Camden Town. Mrs. De Morgan was a daughter of Frend's. 
 His son was there, and he heard me relate w^th great pleasure 
 what Sergeant Rough told me, — that he, together w4th Copley, 
 afterwards Lord-Chancellor Lyndhurst, and a future bishop 
 (name forgotten), was chased by the Proctors at night, in the 
 streets, for chalking on the w^all, *^ Frend forever! ! ! " The 
 future bishop alone was caught. Even High Church Tories are 
 not ashamed of the liberal freaks of their youth 
 
 August Jfth, — I walked this morning to and found 
 
 * Sip^ James Graham was an active member of the Council of University 
 College. 
 
1852.] DUKE OF WELLINGTON. — MRS. BROWNING. 425 
 
 Lady C. very agreeable. I find her quite consistent in her 
 liberality, for, on stating that there are three tests in Chris- 
 tianity, — those of the sacraments, creed, and character, — she 
 exclaimed, '* The last is the only one I care about." This is 
 the really essential doctrine. On matters of taste she is firm. 
 She has also had the courage to declare, in company, that she 
 sees nothing to be frightened at in the book imputed to Dr. 
 Donaldson. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R 
 
 30 Russell Square, September 25, 1852. 
 .... His death (the Duke of Wellington's) has occasioned 
 an expression of national sentiment which does the country 
 honor ; and the public funeral is not wanted to prove the sin- 
 cerity of the universal language. In spring, when I last dined 
 with Miss Coutts, he did not come to dinner, but was there in 
 the evening. He held the arm of his hostess as he walked up 
 and down the drawing-room ; and it was difficult to determine 
 which supported the other. Dr. Boott has been telling me that, 
 since I saw him, he was at the American Minister's, when the 
 Minister introduced the Doctor's mother to him as, in one re- 
 spect, his (the Duke's) superior, being several years older. The 
 Duke cordiallv shook hands with Mrs. Boott.* .... 
 
 October 6th, — Dined at home, and at eight dressed to go to 
 Kenyon. With him I found an interesting person I had never 
 Been before, Mrs. Browning, late Miss Barrett, — not the invalid 
 I expected ; she has a handsome oval face, a fine eye, and al- 
 together a pleasing person. She had no opportunity of display, 
 and apparently no desire. Her husband has a very amiable 
 expression. There is a singular sweetness about him.f Miss 
 Bayley and Mrs. Chadwick were there. 
 
 October 22d, — After dining at home, I went to Mrs. Bayne's, 
 meaning to go to Mrs. Reid's afterwards ; but Kenyon was 
 coming later, and this seduced me to stay till eleven. And a 
 very pleasant evening we had, telling bons mots and repeating 
 epigrams. The following is from Kenyon : ^' What is dogmat- 
 ism ]" asked some one of Douglas Jerrold. *' Puppyism full 
 grown." 
 
 October 2Sd, — Heard a mot of Donaldson's. Lady C , 
 
 * Mr. Leslie painted about this period the Duke as he appeared at an even- 
 ing party. The picture, it is believed, wns for Miss Coutts. 
 + Mr. Browning was a relation of Mr. Kenj-on's. 
 
426 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 offering a wager, was asked what it should be. '^A feather 
 from one of my wings wh3n I am an angel." — ^* I would recom- 
 mend your ladyship," said Donaldson, '' to abstain from such 
 wagers. There is great danger, if you do not, that you may 
 be plucked.''^ 
 
 Novembei' 8th, — Called on Boott.* He reproached me with 
 inconsistency, because I was intolerant of those who upheld 
 slavery in order to save the Union, and yet was tolerant to- 
 wards the governments of Europe who kept the people in 
 slavery. I love Boott, and must avoid the subject, if it en- 
 danger our friendship. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 20th November, 1852. 
 
 .... This day week I dined with Mrs. Bayne. A table of 
 six persons cannot be said to hold a party. They consisted of 
 Mrs. Bayne, our hostess, a Mr. and Mrs. Whitbread, — he 's 
 the great-nephew of the great brewer who, fifty years ago, was, 
 with Grey and Burdett and Lambton what Cobden and Bright 
 and Hume are now, — Kenyon, whom you know, and Thirlwall, 
 the Bishop of St. David's. The Bishop was the bosom friend of 
 Dr. Bayne, and is on^ of the liberal and most learned of his 
 order ; with Archdeacon Hare, one of the patrons of the Ger- 
 man school of philosophy in the study of biblical criticism, and 
 author of a voluminous '' History of Greece." He abandoned 
 the law for divinity, and w^hen at the bar w^ent the Chelmsford 
 Sessions with William Pattisson ; he is one of the half-dozen 
 who, at different times, have honored me with a touch of the 
 holy hand, though not for the purpose of consecration. A very 
 agreeable afternoon 
 
 I believe I should have stayed at home on the Thursday, if 
 I had not read the first volume of Thackeray's new novel, 
 '' Esmond," which has greatly interested me ; and I humbly 
 recommend it to the novel-reading portion of your household. 
 It is far more pleasant than *' Vanity Fair," and does not ex- 
 hibit in disproportion all the parties honteuses of our mixed 
 nature. The female characters are well contrasted. I had 
 read little more than one volume, and, meaning to go to 
 Brighton to-day, I -wished to finish it. I breakfasted by candle- 
 light, and was at the Athenseum soon after eight. This being 
 the day of the Duke's funeral, the house was already nearly 
 occupied ; seats had been erected for the ladies in front. The 
 
 * Boott himself was an American. 
 
1852.] KOBERTSON. — LADY BYRON. 427 
 
 library, having not even a side-view of the procession, was 
 nearly empty till towards two, when, all being passed, company 
 came in till their carriages could be brought to them. I sat 
 reading by the library fire from half past eight till near six. 
 Once or twice I took a peep from the drawing-room window, 
 and had a glimpse of the tawdry car, — enough for me ; but 
 the noble troops, and the mourning-coaches, and the banners, 
 had an imposing effect 
 
 November 21st, — (Brighton.) I heard a sermon from Rob- 
 ertson, marked by his usual peculiarities, he speaking of im- 
 puted righteousness as the righteousness to be obtained in an 
 advanced state of excellence, and of man being reconciled to 
 God, and therefore God reconciled to man. Samuel Sharpe 
 told me that people here complaui that he unsettles men's 
 minds. Of course, no one can be awakened out of a deep sleep 
 without being unsettled. An eloquent eulogy of the Duke, 
 as exhibiting a perfect devotion to duty. He concluded with 
 the declaration that he was proud of being an English- 
 man. 
 
 Novemher 28th, — The wet weather continued and kept me 
 within to a gi'eat degree. I was at Robertson's, and heard a 
 sermon full of striking thoughts, on the relation of Chris- 
 tianity to Judaism, — being abolition by expansion, as the Ju- 
 daic Sabbath is abrogated when every day is devoted to the 
 Lord. 
 
 Novemher 29th, — I went to Robertson's, and had two hours 
 of interesting chat with him on his position here in the pulpit ; 
 also about Lady Byron. He speaks of her as the noblest wo- 
 man he ever knew. 
 
 December 27th. — A singular and unexpected occurrence took 
 place to-day, which is the more remarkable because my first oc- 
 cupation was to write a long letter to Mrs. Clarkson, giving her 
 an account of my visit to the Haldanes. 
 
 At the Athenaeum, Milman, the Dean of St. Paul's, came up 
 to me and said : " Mr. Crabb Robinson, the Bishop of Oxford 
 wishes to have the pleasure of being introduced to you." I 
 had scarcely time to say, " The Bishop does me honor," before 
 the Bishop presented his hand, and said : "I have long wished 
 to have the pleasure of being known to you. Long ago there 
 was one subject on w^hicli we differed, but that has been long 
 forgott^i on my part." * I, of course, took his hand and said, 
 
 * See ante, p. 269. 
 
428 kp:miniscences of henry crabb koblnson. [chap. 26. 
 
 in a tone which implied acquiescence : *' I hope your Lordship 
 knows that I was led to take the part I did by being in my 
 childhood very intimate with Mrs. Clarkson. I am now her 
 oldest friend." He said he was aware of that. I then spoke 
 about her health, &c. 
 
 1853. 
 
 January 4th. — Continued at home, reading till past one, 
 when I went to Hampstead. I could only leave a card at 
 Mrs. Hoare's, and then had a long and agreeable chat with 
 Tagart. He was in good-humor, as, indeed, he always is ; and 
 he and I think alike on the Popery question. He seemed 
 heartily to enjoy " The Bridge of Sighs," by Tom Hood. Ta- 
 gart's residence, called Wildwood, is a charming spot. 
 
 February 4th. — My first reading was " Loss and Gain," 
 since finished, — a book admirably adapted to its purpose : an 
 insidious picture of the several states of mind of one possess- 
 ing natural piety, living at Oxford, and finding no comfort till 
 he is received into the bosom of the Church. But one thought 
 touched me : it is easier to believe in the authority of the 
 Church than of the Scriptures. Yet I could answer it. What 
 the Church afiirms is incredible and indescribable. What I 
 understand the Scriptures to teach is most desirable ; and, 
 if not true, it ought to be. It carries w^th it its own au- 
 thority. 
 
 March 5th. — Dr. Donaldson repeated a pun of his own. It 
 was said at table : ** If you can give me at dinner a good dish 
 of fish after soup, I want no more." — *' That is not my doc- 
 trine," said Dr. Donaldson. '^ On such a theme I am content 
 to be held su2^erficiaV 
 
 April 6th. — After breakfast I discharged a debt of long 
 standing, and carried to Archdeacon Hare, at Kingston, a 
 drawing of his sister, by Miss Flaxman, sent him by Miss Den- 
 man. He is recovered from a long illness, and returns to 
 Hurstmonceaux. I was glad to receive a few words of kind- 
 ness from a man I much like. He is consistent, to a degree I 
 envy, in his faith that all will end well. 
 
 April 7th. — I read to M an excellent article on Words- 
 worth's life, by Lady Richardson, in Sharjw^s Magazine ; only 
 Lady Richardson praises the written life by mistake, when she 
 ought to have eulogized only the actual life. 
 
 May 3d, — I had a narrow escape in the evening, on my way 
 
 t 
 
1858.] MRS. B. STOWE. — LADY BYRON. — LORING. 429 
 
 to hear a lecture by Kinkel ; as I was crossing the top of Tor- 
 rington Square, with my umbrella up, I was knocked down by 
 a cab-horse, and, luckily, was knocked out of his path. I fell 
 flat, and was not run over ; so that I may venture to say no 
 serious injury has arisen. The splinters of my umbrella have 
 cut my hand ; and my knees are bruised. I was stunned, but 
 in a few minutes recovered. I went on to the University Col- 
 lege ; heard part of the lecture ; but was conscious of being 
 very muddy, so I stole out again. 
 
 May 2Jfth, — At Mrs. Reid's between three and four. There 
 were assembled, Mrs. Beecher Stowe and some twenty or thirty 
 of Mrs. Reid's acquaintance, to be introduced to the object of 
 general curiosity. She looks young, and quite unpretending. 
 She had been with Mrs. Clarkson. Lady Byron was also pres- 
 ent, to whom Mrs. Jameson introduced me, and with whom was 
 Dr. King. Lady Byron echoed my praise of Robertson, who 
 has consented to take a curate. A special subscription of 
 £ 200 has been raised ; and the subscribers force him to prom- 
 ise that he will give the curate only £ 100 per annum. Mrs. 
 Bayne was there, as well as Estlin, and the most intelligent- 
 looking negro I ever saw. It was Craft, whose escape from 
 slavery has been before the public. 
 
 June 2Jfth, — An interesting evening at Boott's. The star 
 was Loring,* the friend formerly of Webster. Loring broke 
 with Webster on account of his conduct respecting slavery. 
 The pro-slavery party flattered him, and made him hope for 
 the Presidentship, on w^hich he had set his heart, and repre- 
 sented that, by supporting the compromise, he would be as 
 great a benefactor to America as Washington had been, for 
 otherwise the Union would be broken. Ultimately, however, 
 they abandoned him ; and it was remorse that killed him. 
 Still, Loring thinks that W^ebster has been harshly treated. I 
 have seen no one who judges seemingly with so much candor 
 as Loring. My interest in the conversation was increased by 
 finding that his wife, an interesting w^oman, was the widow of 
 the brother of my old acquaintance, Goddard. 
 
 August 17th, — Dr. King wrote to me, informing me of the 
 death of Robertson, of Brighton. Take him for all in all, the 
 best preacher I ever saw in a pulpit ; that is, uniting the 
 greatest number of excellences, originality, piety, freedom of 
 
 * He rose to the head of the bar at Boston; his death took place in 1867. 
 During the late American war he published a correspondence with H. C. R.'s 
 executor, E. W. Field, on the English feeling and conduct respecting the war. 
 
430 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 thought, and warmth of love. His style colloquial and very 
 
 scriptural. He combined light of the intellect with warmth 
 
 of the affections in a pre-eminent degree. I had thought of 
 
 him continually, reading Maurice's " Essays " ; and when I 
 
 wrote to Dr. King, inquiring about Eobertson, I asked whether 
 
 Robertson could read works requiring thought, meaning to 
 
 send Maurice's " Essavs " to him. 
 
 »/ 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. R. 
 
 August 17, 1853. 
 .... Robertson's theology had an air of grandeur and 
 truthfulness about it, which won all hearts, — the hearts of all 
 who filled his chapel ; while he had to pay the common price 
 of following truth which his Master paid, viz., to endure envy, 
 jealousy, and malignity. 
 
 Paynter to H. C. R. 
 
 Kensington, 7th September, 1853. 
 .... For my own part. I have for some time come to the 
 firm conviction that the Church of England is a mere secular 
 institution, highly valuable to the government as an instru- 
 ment for the preservation of peace, order, and decent morals, 
 but having no more necessary connection with Christianity and 
 real religion than the hare has with the currant jelly ; our 
 Church may, indeed, be auxiliary to the spread and mainte- 
 nance of the Gospel ; but so may all churches which acknowl- 
 edge the Bible as an authority, as the Roman, the Greek, the 
 Presbyterian, (fee. ; but such is not the real end and essence of 
 such institutions. Ignorant people often speak with similar 
 inaccuracy of a window, as being made to let in the light; but 
 we put in the window, both frame and glass, not to let in the 
 light, which would come in more freely without either, but to 
 keep out the wind and the rain. And so a Church, though it 
 render little help to Christianity, which wants not such aid, 
 may serve to keep out the cold blasts of infidelity and the 
 damp pestilential vapors of dissent ; but it is in Spain only 
 that these objects have been effectually attained. 
 
 September ISth. — (Brighton.) Dr. King called, and in the 
 evening I called by desire on Lady Byron, — a call which I en- 
 joyed, and which may have consequences. Recollecting her 
 history, as the widow of the most famous, though not the 
 
 1 
 
1853.] LADY BYRON AND ROBERTSON. 431 
 
 greatest, poet of England in oar day, I felt an interest in go- 
 ing to her ; and that interest was greatly heightened when I left 
 her. From all 1 have heard of her, I consider her one of the 
 best women of the day. Her means and her good-will both 
 great. " She lives to do good," says Dr. King, and I believe 
 this to be true. She wanted my opinion as to the mode of. 
 doing justice to Robertson's memory. She spoke of him as 
 having a better head on matters of business than any one else 
 she ever knew. She said : '' I have consulted lawyers on mat- 
 ters of difficulty, but Robertson seemed better able to give me 
 advice. He unravelled everything and explained everything at 
 once as no one else did." 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 London, 30 Russell Square, 17th September [1853]. 
 
 .... I was informed that Lady Byron wished me to call 
 on her ; which T did last Tuesday. She had seen me at Mrs. 
 Reid's, and wished to consult with me about the forthcoming 
 biography of Robertson. We had a long talk ; and as I w^as 
 on the point of leaving Brighton the next morning, she wrote 
 to me, proposing that the " Life " of her friend should be pub- 
 lished in the same form as that of Margaret Fuller d'Ossoli, 
 the American philosopher, to which some writers of eminence 
 have contributed, — Emerson being one, — and she wishes me 
 to add my contribution. 
 
 I was much pleased with Lady Byron. She is a very re- 
 markable woman, and is most generous and high-minded 
 
 She places Robertson, as I do, at the head of all the preachers 
 we have ever known. He does not, I dare say, differ essential- 
 ly from Maurice and other liberal Churchmen in his opinions. 
 He is one of the men who, in this stirring age, have been giv- 
 ing a shake to opinions and systems, which will be sorely tried 
 thereby 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 EsHER, October 2, 1853. 
 It will be*my endeavor to circulate as many copies as possi- 
 ble of the article you have so kindly sent me ; * and allow me 
 to suggest that it should be printed on a separate sheet of let- 
 ter-paper for that purpose. The good effects which the peru- 
 sal appears to me likely to produce are, — 
 
 * An obituary of the Rev. F. W. Robertson, "vvritten by H. C. R., and 
 printed in the October number of the Christian Reformer for this year, p. 661. 
 
432 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 (1st.) To enlarge the views both of Churchmen and Dis- 
 senters, and to expose the folly of making, as it were, a brazen 
 horizon to any Christian Church, instead of a soft, melting, 
 aerial boundary. 
 
 (2d.) To show by the example, even of one whose ministry 
 was so short, and under many unfavorable circumstances, the 
 poiver of such expansive charity to obliterate sectarian distinc- 
 tions, — a power we cannot suppose separable from Truth. 
 You will see the argument better than I could state it. These 
 are consequences apart from t\iQ personal ohieo^t, with reference 
 to which I can only say that, as a friend of Robertson's, I 
 thank you. 
 
 September 28th, — Edward Dighton * is dead ! — one of the 
 finest men I ever saw; a sort of cross of the Hercules and Apollo. 
 
 Let me supply an omission. At Talfourd's some months 
 ago, I met C. Kemble. In my anecdotes of old times and my 
 love for Mrs. Siddons he expressed great pleasiu-e. He spoke 
 of his brother as a greater artist than his sister. 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. R. 
 
 23 MoNTPELLiER RoAD, BRIGHTON, 19th October, 1853. 
 
 Many thanks for your two letters ; the first with the enclo- 
 sure, — the notice of Robertson. I have lent it to several, 
 who have had great pleasure in the perusal of it. It says as 
 much as can be said of him in that compass. You say, De 
 minimis non curat lex ; I say, Be minimis curat rex. If he did 
 not care de minimis, how could I exist '?.... 
 
 I agree with you, — your memoir raises doubts rather than 
 satisfies them ; but that is all that can be done at present. 
 We are tired of the old, and looking for the new. Time is an 
 element in all human changes. A church is a stepping-stone 
 in the great ladder which men are climbing, to answer the pri- 
 meval question. What is God 1 All the systems from the be- 
 ginning are the answers to this question in their generations. 
 
 When Dr. proclaims a hell of eternal punishment, that 
 
 is his answer. He thinks it is in the Gospel, i. e. his gospel : 
 it is his conception of God 
 
 Dr. Parr was a step in advance. He thought the Unitari- 
 
 * A painter, who died young, shortly after his return from the East, — a man , 
 who had, in a most remarkable degree, the fiiculty of winning the love of all 
 who came under his influence. One of his later works will be found highly 
 praised in Ruskin's " Modern Painters." Vol. II. pp. 223, 224. 
 
1853.] ROBERTSON'S WORK. 433 
 
 ans might be saved, but they must be scorched first. He de- 
 lighted in drinking hob-a-nob with a man who was sure to be 
 scorched before he could be fit company for him. The fact is, 
 we conform the Gospel to our minds, and not our minds to the 
 Gospel. That is Churchdom 
 
 I think the time has gone by for considering whether Rob- 
 ertson would be injured in the opinion of any one. If any- 
 thing he wrote or thought could make others think, that would 
 do good. The opinion of any one in this world, except the 
 wise and good, who do not aspire to be even tolerant, — who 
 are too modest to be tolerant, since toleration implies superior- 
 ity, — is of little consequence. The only true "Toleration 
 Act" is that of God, who tolerates all. But yet, God does 
 not tolerate, he educates. The educator expects his pupil to be 
 imperfect. He professes to cure imperfection. So God, as 
 educator, professes to cure sin ; and, as a means, he sends 
 his Son, the model man, to explain what he means by human 
 perfection ; and he says, " This is w^hat I mean to bring all 
 mankind to.". ... 
 
 It appears to me that the intention of Providence is to ele- 
 vate the people, — the mQlion. But this is a work of time, 
 and WE are too impatient. We want all to be done in our life- 
 time ; but we forget that a thousand years are with him 
 as a day. Then it appears to me that the despotic form of 
 government is most suited to savage life and early civilization, 
 and the constitutional form to a more advanced state. But if 
 the despot w^as enlightened, that would be the simplest form 
 for all states. 
 
 Then again, I think that moral improvement is the real end 
 of man, and that all ' society is really contrived for that ; but 
 this is far more difiicult to attain than intellectual improve- 
 ment. 
 
 How this end is to be brought about is hidden from us. 
 But I look upon the first promise, however made or supposed, 
 fis prophetic, — ^' Thou shalt bruise his head," i. e. sin shall 
 ultimately be abolished. 
 
 When this period arrives, it will be a demonstration that 
 the credit is to be given to God, and not to man. This was 
 the object for which Christ died. This made Paul despise all 
 things in comparison with Christ 
 
 October 26th. — At the Athenaeum. A talk with Sir James 
 Stephen. We had a satisfactory chat about the charge 
 
 VOL. II. 19 BB 
 
434 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 brought against Maurice by Jelf, which, though hardly credi- 
 ble, is really, as far as is definite, confined to a doubt raised 
 about the eternity of hell. Stephen spoke highly of Robert- 
 son. Maurice praised him. And more significant was the un- 
 intended praise of another, who said, '' Robertson made me 
 sad ; his words seemed a message from God to myself." 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. R. 
 
 23 MoNTPELLiER RoAD, BRIGHTON, 27th Octobcr, 1853. 
 .... The proper question is, not why Christianity has 
 done so little, but why have not men attained to common 
 sense 1 But then that would resolve itself into other qnes-^ 
 tions : why are not all men mathematicians or chemists, &c. f 
 to which the answer is supposed to be very simple. But it is 
 easier for a man to be a great astronomer than a great Chris- 
 tian. It is easier to be a learned man than a good man. Why 
 morals should be so difficult stirs another and a deeper ques- 
 tion ; for we must suppose that there is a wisdom in the fact. 
 A question of creeds is but a petty question at any time. The 
 real question lies deeper 
 
 Donaldson to H. C. R. 
 
 Bury St. Edmunds, 31st October, 1853. 
 Many thanks for your interesting letter, and the little 
 sketch of Mr. Frederick Robertson, which is to be counted as 
 a testimony worth thousands of those memoirs of insignificant 
 piety with which the religious press has been teeming. What- 
 ever conclusion may be arrived at by the '* pauvre homme " 
 and his assessors, the principles of the " broad Church," so 
 well propounded in the last Edinburgh Review^ will, I am sure, 
 prevail in the long run. If not, Christianity is in peril. The 
 world will not much longer permit the most ignorant class of 
 tlieologians to invest their own opinions with sacrosanct in- 
 fallibility. Above all, I do hope that the pernicious hypothe- 
 sis of mechanical inspiration is beginning to be felt untenable. 
 We have just had a notable proof of this in a book on the 
 Genealogies, published by Lord Arthur Hervey, who used to 
 be strong for the Low Church view of this matter. He has 
 been induced to make a great number of conjectural emenda- 
 tions of the sacred text, and has come to the conclusion that 
 biblical chronology is full of blunders ! What will the Record- 
 ites say to this ] 
 
 \ 
 
1853.] DR. KING'S SPECULATIONS. 435 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. R. 
 23 MoNTPELLiER Road, Brighton, 4th November, 1853. 
 .... I have come to a conclusion with respect to the ex- 
 istence of evil which is somew^hat different, or appears to be 
 so, from w^hat I have anywhere seen, but which, perhaps, is 
 only stating the same thing differently. It is this : that, with 
 such a being as man, he can only be convinced of sin or folly 
 by suffering its consequences. He is not an a priori being 
 (which the Deity is), but a being of experience. We see in 
 every action, from the cradle upwards, that he takes little or 
 nothing upon trust. He must make his experiment, and prove 
 that the fruit is bitter by its taste. No sooner has one genera- 
 tion done this and satisfied itself, than another arises which 
 must be satisfied in the same way. Thus the effect of the 
 experience of one generation upon the next is an infinitesimal 
 one ; but it is something : and so after many ages, even in 
 this life, sin may be conquered : and as to the next, the cir- 
 cumstances will probably be so changed that it is impossible 
 to reason about them at present. 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. R. 
 
 23 MoNTPELLiER RoAD, BRIGHTON, 8th Novembcr, 1853. 
 
 My dear Sir : — 
 
 .... I hear Maurice is excommunicated. Now I honor 
 him. I shall criticise him no more. I hear some one at 
 Oxford of the name of Gibert has pronounced the funeral 
 oration of the Church of England i. e. I suppose, of the 
 intolerant party in it. The last dying speech and confession 
 of Intolerance ! Then new Robertsons and new Maurices 
 wdll arise. JVovus sceclorum nascitur or do. These thino's must 
 be done gradually ; we must not pull her down before we have 
 something better to put in her place, " lest a worse fate befall 
 us." I admire that fixedness in England. We have made 
 wonderful progress in fifty years 
 
 November 7th, — It is seldom, if ever, I have written in 
 these journals after so long a delay. The cause will appear, 
 and it will be justified by the circumstances. My dear old 
 friend, Mrs. Clarkson, had often expressed a wish to see Mrs. 
 Wordsworth, w^ere it possible ; but her paralytic attack put it 
 out of her power to travel. And Mrs. Wordsworth, after the 
 
436 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 death of her husband, had resolved not to come to the South 
 again ; though she repeatedly said that, were she to be in 
 London, she should hope to go as far as Playford. They did 
 not write to each other, but I every now and then communi- 
 cated to the one letters from the other to me, and so the wish 
 was kept alive ; and when it was resolved by Mrs. Wordsworth 
 to come to Miss Fenwick's, I took care to press on her, that 
 now she should go to Playford. And to render that practi- 
 cable, I promised to accompany her. The result of all was, 
 that this morning I met Mrs. Wordsworth and her son John's 
 daughter, Jane, at the Shoreditch Station, and we proceeded 
 to Ipswich. When we arrived there, to our annoyance, there 
 was no carriage from Playford ; and I began to fear that I had 
 omitted to write, which it turned out was really the case. 
 After waiting a quarter of an hour, to make sure that the ab- 
 sence of the carriage could not be through any slight mistake 
 as to time, I took a fly, and about a mile and a half before 
 reaching Playford, we met Mrs. Clarkson and Mrs. Dickenson. 
 They were taking a drive. T was in confusion, and the two 
 ladies were also agitated. Mrs. Clarkson said she would 
 come into our fly, forgetting that she could not move, and 
 Mrs. Dickenson got out to speak to us ; but she was a stranger 
 to the ladies. When I had accompanied the ladies into the 
 dining-room, I returned to see the luggage taken out, and pay 
 the postilion. 
 
 On my going into the room again, the two old finends had 
 recognized each other, and were in all the imperfect enjoyment 
 of a first interview after melancholy privations on both sides. 
 I saw at once that Jane and I were only in the way ; I there- 
 fore proposed to her that we should take a walk. In a few 
 minutes Mrs. Dickenson followed our example, and we walked 
 out for more than an hour, looking at the gardens, parsonage, 
 &c., &c., and did not come back till dinner was nearly ready. 
 Mrs. Clarkson keeps an excellent table, and the Wordsworths 
 care less than most people for creature comforts, so that Mrs. 
 Dickenson declared that the want of notice really was a great 
 relief to Mrs. Clarkson, and I was forgiven for my omission. 
 A mistake arising from anxiety is a very different offence from 
 the forgetfulness of indifference. W^e dined between four and 
 five ; the evening passed off rapidly. I hardly spoke to Mrs. 
 Clarkson, leaving the two ladies as much as might be to them- 
 selves. They remained below, and Jane, Mrs. Dickenson, and 
 I went up stairs, where we were joined by Mr. Dickenson, and 
 
 i 
 
1853.] GENTEPIL AND EVANGELICAL. 437 
 
 we drank tea together, the two old ladies takmg theirs below. 
 We went down a short time before they retired, between ten 
 and eleven, and I sat up a little time longer alone. 
 
 November 16th. — Before we left Play ford this morning, Mrs. 
 Clarkson sent for me into her bedroom. We had an interest- 
 ing chat. I rejoiced to find that both the dear old widows 
 felt grateful tome for having brought about this interview. I 
 have promised to take Jane to Playford next spring, and then 
 on to Rydal. 
 
 Mrs. Clarkson to H. C. R 
 
 December 20, 1853. 
 
 My dear Friend : — 
 
 .... You never before gave so much pleasure (though the 
 greatest part of your life has been spent in acts of kindness), 
 as in bringing Mrs. Wordsworth here, and I believe she feels 
 it as much as I do 
 
 November 2Sd. — A heavy fog, and consequently a remarka- 
 ble day. Returning from a meeting of the Senate of Univer- 
 sity College, Professor Key and another professor very kindly 
 took me in charge. I should, otherwise, have had a difficulty 
 in crossing the New Road. They also accompanied me to John 
 Taylor's. I thought he, as well as myself, might be going to 
 dine at Mrs. Sturch's. After staying with him a few minutes 
 I went on alone to Mrs. Sturch's and dined with her tete-a-tete. 
 Mr. and Mrs. J. J. Tayler, Mr and Mrs. Gibson, Miss Lee, and 
 Miss Knight were all unable to keep their engagement, owing 
 to their inability to find a conveyance. 
 
 Dr. King TO H. C. R. 
 
 Brighton, December 15, 1853. 
 .... I have read Maurice's letter to Jelf. I admire the 
 spirit of the man much. There is an indescribable sweetness 
 in some of his expressions, especially about the love of God, 
 which go to the heaii: — except of a theologian. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 December 31, 1853. 
 
 Mr. I never heard of. There was a gentlemtm at 
 
 Brighton of the same name, who was rich and saintly, and 
 whom I once visited. I would not go again. Of all the com- 
 binations, the most unreal and spurious is that of gentility and 
 Evangelicism. I hope you are aware of this, for I hold it to 
 
438 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 be an important fact at this moment. I shall never forget 
 hearing from a fine lady, in such a rapid manner that the two 
 members of the sentence could with difficulty be separated : 
 "We never omit having family prayer twice a day, and I 
 have not missed a drawing-room since the King came on the 
 throne." 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 December 31, 1853. 
 Dear Mr. Crabb Robinson : — 
 
 .... I have an inclination, if I were not afraid of trespass- 
 ing on your time (but you can put my letter by for any 
 leisure moment), to enter upon the history of a character 
 which I think less appreciated than it ought to be. Men, I 
 observe, do not understand men in certain points, without a 
 woman's interpretation. Those points, of course, relate to 
 feelings. 
 
 Here is a man, taken by most of those who come in his way 
 either for Dry-as-dust, Matter-of-fact, or for a " vain visionary." 
 There are, doubtless, sotoe defective or excessive characteristics 
 which give rise to those impressions. 
 
 My acquaintance was made, oddly enough, with him twenty- 
 seven years ago. A pauper said to me of him : " He 's the 
 poor man's Doctor." Such a recommendation seemed to me a 
 good one ; and I also knew that his organizing head had formed 
 the first District Society in England (for Mrs. Fry told me she 
 could not have effected it without his aid) ; yet he has always 
 ignored his own share of it. I felt in him at once the curious 
 combination of the Christian and the cynic, — of reverence for 
 man^ and contempt of men. It was then an internal war, but 
 one in which it was evident to me that the holier cause would 
 be victorious, because there was deep belief, and, as far as I 
 could learn, a blameless and benevolent life. He appeared 
 only to want sunshine. It was a plant which could not be 
 brought to perfection in darkness. He had begun life by the 
 most painful conflict between filial duty and conscience, — a 
 large provision in the Church secured for him by his fiither ; 
 but he could not sign. There was discredit, as you know, at- 
 tached to such scruples. 
 
 He was also, when I first knew him, under other circum- 
 stances of a nature to depress him, and to make him feel that 
 he was unjustly treated. The gradual removal of these called 
 forth his better nature in thankfulness to God. Still, the old 
 
1854.] AN OLD MAN'S BIRTHDAY. 439 
 
 misanthropic modes of expressing himself obtruded themselves 
 at times. This passed in '48 between him and Robertson. 
 Robertson said to me, "I want to know something about 
 Ragged Schools." I replied, *' You had better ask Dr. King ; 
 he knows more about them." — " I ] " said Dr. King. '^ I take 
 care to know^ nothing of Ragged Schools, lest they should 
 make me ragged." Robertson did not see through it. Per- 
 haps I had been taught to understand such suicidal speeches 
 by my cousin, Lord Melbourne. 
 
 The example of Christ, impertectly as it may be understood 
 by him, has been ever before his eyes ; he woke to the thought 
 of following it, and he went to rest consoled or rebuked by it. 
 After nearly thirty years of intimacy, I may without presump- 
 tion form that opinion. There is something pathetic to me in 
 , seeing any one so unknown. Even the other medical friends 
 of Robertson, w^hen I knew that Dr. King felt a woman's 
 tenderness,* said on one occasion to him, " But we kuow^ that 
 you, Dr. King, are above all feeling ^ 
 
 If I have made the character more consistent to you by 
 putting in these bits of mosaic, my pen will not have been ill 
 employed, nor unpleasingly to you. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 A. Noel Byron, 
 
 1854. 
 
 January 5th. — At the Athenaeum, and had an agreeable 
 talk with Talfourd. I also chatted with Layard, about poli- 
 tics. I came home, to dine at Samuel Rett's. I was able to 
 walk there and home, in spite of the imperfect thaw ; and I 
 had an agreeable afternoon. I w^as in spirits, though I felt 
 old ; and now my friends treat me as if I were an old man ; 
 but, on the W'hole, their intentions are gratifying as evidence 
 rather of just feelings than of any particular respect for me. 
 A party of ten : Mrs. Sturch, fagart, Wansey, Hunter (of 
 Wolverhampton), (fee. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 London, 30 Russell Squark, 27th January, 1854. 
 I did not forget you on Wednesday. I knew that that was 
 
 * The Editor happened to know an as^ed Indy at Brishton who, for many 
 years, was bedridden, and whose declining^ life was cheered by the unfaihnfl; 
 Sunday afternoon visits of Dr. King. His long, friendly talks were looked 
 forward to as the event of the week. 
 
4A0 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 your birthday, and that you would then enter on yoiu* eighty- 
 fifth year. I was then dining with Henry Foss and his 
 brother Edward, a magistrate for Kent. I drank your health 
 in silence, giving the toast in a Avhisper ; but I varied from the 
 ordinary birthday language, and instead of saying, " Many re- 
 turns of them," '' May all his future days be days of en- 
 joyment, or comfort, at least, be they few or many." If I 
 live to the 1 3th of the next May I shall, in like manner, enter 
 my eightieth year. I wish for no other birthday congratula- 
 tion. 
 
 You ask for an accoimt of my second dinner; confessing 
 that you are not entitled to the account, having neglected to 
 acknowledge the first. Had this dinner been a failure, I might 
 have been glad to avail myself of this excuse for not recording 
 my disappointment. The second was more successful than the 
 first, though it was — or perhaps I should say because it was — 
 one of those dinners more creditable to the guests than the host, 
 — that is, there were more good things said than eaten. .... 
 This was the party : the host. Sergeant Byles, Dr. Donaldson, 
 Edwin Field, John Kenyon, Samuel Sharpe, J. J. Tayler, J. 
 W. Donne. 
 
 The Sergeant has repeated to me this evening what'he said 
 before to his wife, that since he has known London he has 
 never enjoyed a company dinner so much as he has done this, 
 in London itself 
 
 And Kenyon said at parting, "I won't say, 'It has been a 
 good party ' ; it has been a gloi^ious afternoon." Of course, one 
 makes a reasonable allowance for compliment in all such cases. 
 
 Donaldson talked his very best, and was delightful. Ken- 
 yon also charmed Byles ; and probably the pleasure and liking 
 
 were reciprocal, as they generally are On the whole, 
 
 everybody seemed satisfied. .... 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. R. 
 
 23 MoNTPELLiER RoAD, BRIGHTON, 2d Febniary, 1854. 
 .... Lady Byron is now quite recovered. She is always 
 feeble, and obliged to husband her strength, and. calculate her 
 powers ; but her mind is ever intact, pure, and lofty. It 
 seems to pour forth its streams of benevolence and judgment 
 even from the sick-bed ; a perennial fountain. Her state of 
 mind has always given me confidence in her severest illnesses. 
 Yet her power of bearing fiitigue occasionally, as during the 
 illness and death of her daughter, is as w^onderful 
 
1854.J NO GIVING UP THE RIDDLE. 441 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. AND S. R. 
 London, 30 Russell Square, 2oth February, 1854. 
 .... I have long detested the system of our English 
 Universities, and, had I had a son, I would never have allowed 
 him to reside in one, unless he had had a mother, or near 
 female relation, to be his house, or at least his table com- 
 panion.* .... 
 
 H. Cs R. TO Paynter. 
 
 30 Russell Square, 28th April [1854]. 
 Your last, like your former letter, — and, like your letters, 
 written in an earnest spirit, — is full of excellent sentiment, 
 and as much illumination as the topic can receive, perhaps ; 
 for of these transcendent matters one may say, in Milton's 
 language, that which you can cast on them is "not light, but 
 rather darkness visible." It was wise advice, therefore, in 
 Bishop Horsley, in his charge to country clergymen, to shun so 
 perilous a subject as that of predestination or necessity; or, 
 in measured words, — 
 
 ^ " Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute." 
 
 For even when the sincere inquirer does not merit the poet's 
 sentence of condemnation, 
 
 " Vain wisdom all and false philosophy," 
 
 yet it would be well if he could forego the investigation, — not 
 as impious, but as profitless. If he could ! But he cannot 
 always, — you cannot, — I cannot. Where we feel an urgent 
 longing after knowledge, the consciousness of our own in- 
 capacity to solve the riddle is not enough to make us give it 
 up. I have always felt that all speculations concerning matter 
 and its laws, whether in the movement of its masses, which 
 constitutes mechanics, or in the internal workings of its in- 
 sensible portions, whether fluid, solid, or gaseous, which in- 
 clude several sciences, are insignificant compared with what 
 belongs to the spiritual element in men, whether it appertains 
 to conscience or the discernment of spiritual natm-e. But 
 why am I going on in a style which, when I sat down, I re- 
 solved to repudiate altogether ] 
 
 I have more interest in speculations which can only end in 
 a deeper sense of incapacity, than in the acquisition of worth- 
 
 * Early in life H. C. R. regarded his own want of a University education as 
 an irreparable loss. 
 
 19* 
 
442 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 less knowledge. Nevertheless, I recur to them only as a 
 magnetizer — Let the above stand as an evidence of the 
 state of one's mind. I was overpowered by drow^siness and 
 left off, and, after a nap, go on again. But I will not go on 
 wdth a subject which may set you asleep as well as myself 
 
 The practicar bearings of speculative matters are such as we 
 do not much differ upon, — indeed we cannot. The intolerance 
 of governments, — the vulgar ignorance of the sectarians, 
 which matches the proud and hypocritical pretences to author- 
 ity on the part of the priesthood, who have got the arm of the 
 law in their support, are alike objects of our hatred or con- 
 tempt. * 
 
 And I can assent to all you say, and have so happily illus- 
 trated by your image of the beholders from the house-top. 
 And also I am as convinced as you can be, that whether we 
 are in possession of it or not, there is a truth to be had 
 
 Miss Denman to H. C. R. 
 
 74 Upper Norton Street, May 11, 1854. 
 
 .... It is to you, my ever-kind friends, Robin soil and 
 Field, that the University, as well as myself, are indebted for 
 the good that must accrue from the possession of those works 
 [of Flaxman], not only in the present, but in future ages ; and 
 I trust we may all be spared to see the completion of the 
 whole 
 
 April Jftli. — Coming from Lord Monteagle's, I suffered my- 
 self to be swindled. A fellow with a bad grinning countenance, 
 very dirty in appearance, accosted me by my name. I said I 
 did not recollect him. '*You knew my father." — '* It is 
 
 young , Julius, I supposed' He said ''' Yes." And then 
 
 a scene like that in a comedy follow^ed, I playing fool, and he 
 knave ; confirming all I said by assent, and saying himself 
 nothing. '' Are you going home now ^ " — '^ Why, no ; I am 
 going to the Athenaeum." — " Had you been going, I should 
 have asked you to accommodate me with a sovereign. It would 
 save me a walk to the custom-house, where I want to fetch 
 some articles from abroad." Ass ! this ought to have opened 
 my eyes. I should be farther off the custom.-house here than 
 there. I was infatuated. " You are a clergymanf — " Yes." 
 — ** But why in such a dress '? " — "0, I would rather follow 
 any other prr^fcssion." I could fill a page with recounting all 
 
1854.] PAYNTER. — THE FAITH OF THE HEART. 443 
 
 the circumstances that ought to have told me the fellow 
 was a knave. Opening my purse, he said : '^ Could you let 
 me have two 1 " 1 gave him one sovereign and a half, and the 
 moment he left me, saying he would bring it in the morning, 
 I saw my stupidity. 
 
 Maj/ 29th. — I was left alone with Paynter, and had an 
 hour and a half's cordial talk with him. Our convictions seem 
 to be pretty much the same. They are of the nature of assur- 
 ances arising out of the affections, — not scientific demonstra- 
 tions, — and are more comfortable by far than the ostentatious 
 and affronting creeds which have an exclusive character, and 
 seem intended to set up a Pharisaic superiority over those who 
 are less bold in their pretensions. 
 
 June 12th, — Sortaine related an amusing tale of an Evan- 
 gelical clergyman, w^hose church being attended by a rather 
 
 prudish Lady H , felt himself bound, on her leaving 
 
 Brighton, to discharge his duty by admonishing her, that he 
 trusted she had repented of the sins of her early life. She 
 was astounded at such an address, and requested her husband 
 to show that man the door at once. Nor would she allow him 
 to explain his having confounded her name and title with that 
 of a lady who had once been an actress. 
 
 August 25th. — Walked to Hampstead Heath, and there had 
 an agreeable chat with Mrs. and Miss Hoare. Mrs. Hoare is 
 just a year older than Mrs. Wordsworth. She has a sweet 
 motherly face ; and both she and the daughter are women of 
 sense and high w^orth. They are great lovers of Wordsworth, 
 and never failed to invite me to their house when he w^as a 
 visitor there. I have been occasionally invited since his death. 
 Mrs. Hoare was, by birth, a» Quaker and a Sterry ; and I grati- 
 fied her (on a former occasion) by telling her of the generous 
 conduct of, I believe, an uncle of hers. 
 
 November IJfih, — Took tea with Miss Weston, at six, with 
 roast turkey. I went to meet Mr. Plumptre. Mrs. Plumptre 
 is Maurice's sister. I like both husband and wife. They un- 
 derstand me, and that is a main point. We had an agree- 
 able evening. A know^n diversity of opinion, with kind feeling, 
 does no harm. But there must be a charitable temper. 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 Brighton, November 15, 1854. 
 The thoughts of all this public and private suffering have 
 
444 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 taken the life out of my pen, when I tried to wiite on matters 
 which would otherwise have been most interesting to me : these 
 seemed the shadows, — that the stern reaHtj. It is good, how- 
 ever, to be drawn out of scenes in which one is absorbed 
 most unprofitablj, and to have one's natural interests revived 
 by such a letter as I have to thank you for, as well as its prede- 
 cessor. You touch upon the very points which do interest 
 me the most, habitually. The change of form and enlarge- 
 ment of design in the Prospective had led me to express to one 
 of the promoters of that object my desire to contribute. The 
 religious crisis is instant, — but the man for it ] The next best 
 thing, ]f, as I believe, he is not to be found in England^ is an 
 association of such men as are to edit the new periodical. An 
 address delivered by Freeman Clarke at Boston, last May, 
 makes me think him better fitted for a leader than any other 
 of the religious " Free-thinkers. " I wish I could send you my 
 one copy, but you do not need it, and others do. His object is 
 the same as that of the Alliance Universelle, only he is still 
 more free from " Partialism " (his own word) in his aspirations 
 and practical suggestions with respect to an ultimate " Christian 
 Synthesis. " He so far adopts Comte's theory as to speak of 
 religion itself under three successive aspects, historically, — 1. 
 Thesis ; 2. Antithesis ; 3. Synthesis. I made his acquaintance 
 in England, and he inspired confidence at once by his brave 
 independence, — incomptis capillis, and self-i/^^consciousness. 
 J. J. Tayler's address of last month follows in the same path, — 
 all in favor of the " Ironies," instead of Polemics. 
 
 The answer which you gave me so fully and distinctly to the 
 questions I proposed for your consideration was of 'value in 
 turning to my view certain aspects of the case which I had not 
 before observed. I had begun a setond attack on your patience, 
 when all was forgotten in the news of the day. 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R 
 
 Brighton, December 25, 1854. 
 
 With J. J. Tayler, though almost a stranger to him, I have 
 a peculiar reason for sympathizing. A book of his was a treas- 
 ure to my daughter on her death -bed.* 
 
 I must confess to intolerance of opinion as to these two points, 
 — eternal evil in any form, and (involved in it) eternal suffer- 
 
 * Probably the " Christian Af^pects of Faith and Duty." Mr. Tayler has 
 also written " A Retrospect of the Religious Life of England." 
 
1855.] COMPREHENSIVENESS. — LADY BYRON. 445 
 
 ing. To believe in these would take away my God, who is all- 
 loving. With a God with whom omnipotence and omniscience 
 were all, evil might be eternal, — but why do I say to you what 
 has been better said elsewhere ] 
 
 1855. 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R, 
 
 Brighton, January 31, 1855. 
 .... The great difficulty in respect to the Review^ * seems 
 to be, to settle a basis, inclusive and exclusive, — in short, a 
 boundary question. From what you said, I think you agreed 
 with me, that a latitudinarian Christianity ought to be the 
 character of the periodical ; but the depth of the roots should 
 correspond with the width of the bi*anches of that tree of 
 knowledge. Of some of those minds one might say, " They 
 have no root," itnd then, the richer the foliage, the more danger 
 that the trunk will fall. " Grounded in Christ " has to me a 
 most practical significance and value. I, too, have anxiety 
 about a friend, — Miss Carpenter, — whose life is of public im- 
 portance ; she, more than any of the English Reformers, un- 
 less Nash and Wright, has found the art of drawing out the 
 good of human nature and proving its existence. She makes 
 these discoveries by the light of love. I hope she may re- 
 cover, from to-day's report. The object of a Reformatory in 
 
 Leicester has just been secured at a county meeting 
 
 Now the desideratum is, well-qualified masters and mistresses. 
 If you hear of such by chance, pray let me know. The 
 regular schoolmaster is an extinguisher. Heart, and familiar- 
 ity with the class to be educated, are all important. At home 
 and abroad, the evidence is conclusive on that point, for I have 
 for many years attended to such experiments in various parts 
 of Europe. The Irish Quarterly has taken up the subject 
 with rather more zeal than judgment. I had hoped that a 
 sound and temperate exposition of the facts might form an 
 article in the Might-have-been Review. 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 Brighton, February 12, 1855. 
 I have at last earned the pleasure of writing to you, by 
 having settled troublesome matters of little moment, except 
 
 * The National Review. 
 
446 KEMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 locally, and I gladly take a wider range by sympathizing in 
 your interests. There is, besides, no responsibility — for me 
 at least — in canvassing the merits of Eussell or Palmerston, 
 but much in deciding whether the " village politician," Jack- 
 son or Thompson, shall be leader in the school and pubUc- 
 house. 
 
 Has not the nation been brought to a conviction that the 
 system should be broken up % and is Lord Palmerston, who has 
 used it so long tod so cleverly, likely to promote that object ] 
 
 But whatever obstacles there may be in state affairs, that 
 general persuasion must modify other departments of action 
 and knowledge. " Unroasted coffee " will no longer be accepted 
 under the official seal, — another reason for a new literary 
 combination for distinct special objects, — a Review in which 
 every separate article should be convergent. \i, instead of the 
 problem to make a circle pass through three given points, it 
 were required to find the centre from which to describe a cir- 
 cle through any three articles in the Edinburgh or Westminster 
 Eevieiv^ who could accomplish it ? Much force is lost for want 
 of this one-mindedness amongst the contributors. It would 
 not exclude variety or freedom in the unlimited discussion ctf 
 means towards the ends unequivocally recognized. If St. 
 Paul had edited a Review, he might have admitted Peter as 
 well as Luke or Barnabas 
 
 Ross gave us an excellent sermon yesterday, on '' Hallowing 
 the Name." Though far from commonplace, it might have 
 been delivered in any church. 
 
 We have had Fanny Kemble here last week. I only heard 
 her *' Romeo and Juliet," — not less instructive, as her read- 
 ings always are, than exciting, for in her glass Shakespeare is a 
 philosopher. I know her, and honor her for her truthfulness 
 amidst all trials. 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 Brighton, March 5, 1855. 
 
 I recollect only those passages of Dr. Kennedy's book which 
 bear upon the opinions of Lord Byron. Strange as it may 
 seem. Dr. Kennedy is most faithful where you doubt his being 
 so. Not merely from casual expressions, but from the whole 
 tenor of Lord Byron's feelings, I could not but conclude he was 
 a believer in the inspiration of the Bible, and had the gloomiest 
 Calvinistic tenets. To that unhappy view of the relation of the 
 creature to the Creator I have always ascribed the misery of 
 
1855.] LORD BYRON. PREDESTINATION. 447 
 
 his life. .... It is enough for me to remember, that he who 
 thinks his transgressions beyond forgiveness (and such was his 
 own deepest feeling), has righteousness beyond that of the 
 self-satisfied sinner ; or, perhaps, of the half-awakened. It 
 was impossible for me to doubt that, could he have been at once 
 assured of pardon, his living faith in a moral duty and love of 
 virtue {" I love the virtues which I cannot claim") would have 
 conquered every temptation. Judge, then, how I must hate 
 the Creed which made him see God as an Avenger, not a Fa- 
 ther. My own impressions were just the reverse, but could 
 have little weight, and it was in vain to seek to turn his 
 thoughts for long fi'om that idee fixe with which he connected 
 his physical peculiarity as a stamp. Instead of being 
 made happier by any apparent good, he . felt convinced that 
 every blessing would be " turned into a curse " to him. Who, 
 possessed by such ideas, could lead a life of love and service 
 to God or man 1 They must in a measm^e realize themselves. 
 " The worst of it is, I do believe," he said. I, like all con- 
 nected with him, was broken against the rock of Predestina- 
 tion. I may be pardoned for referring to his frequent expres- 
 sion of the sentiment that I was only sent to show him the 
 happiness he was forbidden to enjoy. You will now better un- 
 derstand why " The Deformed Transformed " is too painful to 
 me for discussion. Since writing the above, I have read Dr. 
 Granville's letter on the Emperor of Russia, some passages of 
 wliich seem applicable to the prepossession I have described. I 
 will not mix up less serious matters with these, which forty 
 years have not made less than present still to me. 
 
 Dr. King to H. C. E. 
 
 23 MoNTPELLiER RoAD, BRIGHTON, March 22, 1855. 
 It would appear unkind in me to pass over the death of our 
 Triend Masquerier without notice. He was a man I had spent 
 many agreeable and instructive hours with, — and never more 
 enjoyable than when alone. Then he could speak with less re- 
 serve, and was never at a loss for anecdote of many characters 
 whom I knew only historically. He had a large acquaintance 
 with the world. It had not soured his temper, — it had only 
 increased his caution and prudence. I think this is the effect 
 produced upon men in public situations. One mistake or one 
 dishonest man may ruin a well-concocted scheme or plan of 
 operations ; their caution is therefore a matter of necessity. 
 During the last year I had seen more of him than usual 
 
448 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chaf. 25. 
 
 I think, as a man approaches the great change, an interest in 
 the nature of that change may well be the uppermost feeling 
 in a rational being. Surely the absence of this feeling is a 
 man's own loss peculiarly, whatever may be its connection with 
 the unknown futiu-e upon which we are about to enter. How 
 many ai>e deterred from this subject by the perverted subtleties 
 of theologians, I will not pretend to say. After as wide a sur- 
 vey of human knowledge as my faculties permit, I find no rest 
 but in the character of Christ, of which I still consider I have 
 but an imperfect conception. He forms the under-current in 
 which float all the hopes of the world for rising out of its 
 present chaos. What we call chaos is, I doubt not, a step in the 
 wisdom of that Power which we worship as real, though in- 
 comprehensible 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R 
 
 Brighton, April 8, 1855. 
 
 . . . The book which has interested me most lately is 
 that on *^ Mosaism," translated by Miss Goldsmid, and w^hich I 
 read, as you will believe, without any Christian (unchristian ]) 
 prejudice. The missionaries of the Unity were always, from 
 my childhood, regarded by me as in that sense the people ; and 
 I believe they w^ere true to that mission, though blind, intel- 
 lectually, in demanding the crucifixion. The present aspect pf 
 Jewish opinions, as shown in that book, is all but Christian. 
 The author is under the error of taking, as the representatives 
 of Christianity, the Mystics, Ascetics, and Quietists ; and 
 therefore he does not know how near he is to the true spirit of 
 the Gospel. If you should happen to see Miss Goldsmid, pray 
 tell her what a great service I think she has rendered to us soi- 
 disants Christians in translating a book which must make us 
 sensible of the little w^e have done, and the much w^e have to 
 do, to justify our preference of the later to the earlier dispen- 
 sation 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 Brighton, April 11, 1855. 
 
 You appear to have more definite information respecting the 
 
 Review than I have obtained It was also said that the 
 
 Review would in fact be the Prospective amplified, — not satis- 
 factory to me, because I have always thought that periodical 
 too Unitarian, in the sense of separating itself from other 
 
1855.] THREE WEEKS IN FRANCE. 449 
 
 Christian churches, if not by a high wall, at least by a wir^ 
 gauze fence. Now, separation is to me the aipearis- The reve- 
 lation through Nature never separates ; it is the revelation 
 through the Book which separates. Whewell and Brewster 
 would have been one had they not, I think equally, dimmed 
 their lamps of science when reading their Bibles. As long as 
 we think a truth better for being shut up in a text, we are not 
 of the wide-world religion, which is to include all in one fold ; 
 for that text will not be accepted by the followers of other 
 books, or students of the same, and separation will ensue. The 
 Christian Scripture should be dear to us, not as the charter of 
 a few, but of mankind, and to fashion it into cages is to deny 
 its ultimate objects. These thoughts hot, like the roll at break- 
 fast, where your letter was so welcome an addition. 
 
 Julj/ 9th. — Spent the forenoon at home reading, till two. 
 Read two long articles in the National Review, with which I 
 am content.* They are above the average. And, as the 
 Chronicle says, if the Review can be kept at that pitch, it will 
 succeed. At all events, it ought. I admire the article on " The 
 Church, Romanism, Protestantism," (fee, of which I think 
 Martineau must be the author ; also an excellent one on " In- 
 ternational Duties, " — an able defence of the war, not the con- 
 duct of it. 
 
 July 11th, — Went on with the National Review^ and read 
 with great pleasure the article on "Administrative Reform." 
 Full of excellent sense. 
 
 September 8th, — I am returned from a more than three 
 weeks' excursion to Bayonne, having achieved more than I ex- 
 pected with less trouble than I feared. I have no wish to see 
 France again. A similar visit to Frankfort and Heidelberg is 
 all I desire. On my way, I had the satisfaction of meeting 
 Robert Brown, the great botanist, and we were together as far 
 as Boulogne. There I was cordially greeted by William Brown 
 and Alcock, who were to be my travelling companions. After 
 visiting Bayonne we returned to Bordeaux, to meet Mrs. Brown 
 and jVIiss Coutts. My journey with Brown and Alcock then 
 ceased, and I joined Sergeant and Mrs. Dowling. I remained 
 at Paris a week, visiting the Exposition Indiistrielle, In my 
 visits to old Mrs. Andre I saw Tholuck and Sir Culling Eardley. 
 At the Exhibition I had walks with Mr. and Mrs. Plumptre, 
 
 * H. C. R. was one of those who were consulted about the establishment of 
 this Review, and who supported it by counsel and money. 
 
 cc 
 
450 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 and some English acquaintance. Among the latter, I had the 
 good luck to fall in with John Taylor, whom I had as my com- 
 panion the chief part of the journey home. I left him at the 
 London railway station, with a sense of thankfulness for his 
 company. He is a clever and excellent man as a doer, — a 
 worker. 
 
 October 19th. — My first call, on my return from Bury, was 
 on Atkinson. I was delighted to find that of the Flaxman 
 Gallery nothing remains to be done but the inner room. We 
 have about £16 in hand. The completion will not exceed my 
 means, if I have to contribute the whole. The Gallery is now 
 out of danger, and this gratifies me. 
 
 October 22d, — The day began ill. A letter from Alcock. 
 Brown dangerously ill, at Montpelier. Miss Coutts was de- 
 sirous that I should not hear the news abruptly. Whenever 
 Brown's death takes place it will be, to me, a real loss.* 
 
 December 18th. — The incident of the day is the death of 
 Rogers, — long expected. It took place early in the morning 
 without any pain. At ninety-two or ninety-three, pain is not 
 to be feared.t 
 
 December 25th. — Engaged in reading " The Life of Sydney 
 Smith," which I finished. An excellent man, certainlv. He 
 was neither martyr, nor hero, nor saint, but, with all his in- 
 firmities, an amiable and admirable man. 
 
 [During this year H. C. R. was called upon to act as arbi- 
 trator in a case of the most honorable kind to those con- 
 cerned. Lieutenant Arnold, son of Dr. Arnold, had been en- 
 gaged by Lady Byron as tutor to her grandson. For reasons 
 into which it is unnecessary to enter, the tutorship came to an 
 end in a way which involved an unforeseen pecuniary settle- 
 ment ; and Lady Byron proposed to pay just double what 
 Lieutenant Arnold thought it right to receive. The award of 
 the arbitrator satisfied the conscience of the one, and the gen- 
 erosity of the other. — Ed.] 
 
 1856. 
 
 January 6th. — Read a sermon preached before the Queen, 
 in Scotland, and by her ordered to be printed. It will do 
 
 * On the 14th of November, on H. C. R.'s return from a visit to Torquay, 
 he writes : " The only letter I regretted not receiving in time, was one inviting 
 me to attend poor Brown's funeral on the 7th." 
 
 t The funeral, which was a private one, took place at Hornsey, where there 
 is a family vault. 
 
 1 
 
1856.] TWO EXITS FURTHER. 451 
 
 good, being anti-sacerdotal. It is little more than an expan- 
 sion of a saying by Dr. Arnold : ^' I wish there were fewer 
 religious books, but that all books were in a religious spirit." 
 
 January 10th. — Dined with Mrs. Bayne, — a dinner I en- 
 joyed ; made agreeable by Boxall. There were two friends 
 from the country and a liberal clergyman. There w^as not 
 much talk, but a sort of battledore and shuttlecock fight be- 
 tween Boxall and myself 
 
 January 2Jfth, — At breakfast I had John Wordsworth and 
 Derwent Coleridge. They made themselves agreeable to me 
 and to each other. We looked together at the Flaxman Gal- 
 lery, and this they seemingly enjoyed. This visit occasioned 
 my writing a longish letter to Mrs. Wordsworth, though chiefly 
 giving an account of the sad state of so great a number of 
 our friends, especially Miss Fenwick and Mrs. Clarkson. 
 
 February IsL — This proved a melancholy day. Its most 
 material incident was Mrs. Dickenson's announcement of dear 
 Mrs. Clarkson's death, early in the morning of the day before. 
 At her age, with her excellent character, and with no hope of 
 permanent improvement in health, life could be of no value, 
 and death hardly an object of dread.* 
 
 February 12th, — It was on this day that dear Henry 
 Hutchison Robinson died, at half past four, a. m. It was 
 long expected, and yet we felt it for a moment as sudden. t 
 This telegraphic mode of giving intelligence is far from satis- 
 factory. Dear Henry was a beautiful blossom ; he afforded 
 hopes ; and I never knew a sweeter, a purer, or a more ami- 
 able and interesting youth. He was altogether an object of 
 love. I had looked much to him in the future. This is 
 a source of sadness, but is nothing to the grief of a mother. 
 John Kenyon, writing a note of sympathy, on the 25th of 
 February, says : " Only live on, and this once smiling world 
 is changed into a huge cemetery, in which we ourselves hardly 
 care to linger." 
 
 March 21st. — I finished reading in bed this day the cor- 
 
 * A short notice of Mrs. Clarkson appeared in the Bnry Post^ February 6, 
 1856. This was probably from the pen of her old friend, H. C. R. 
 
 t His death took place at Torquay. H. C. R.'s Diary shows how deeply he 
 sympathized in all the alternations of hope and fear in his grand-nephew's long 
 illness, and how ready he was to go anywhere in England or abroad, if change 
 of climate Avere advised, and his attendance were desirable. The body was 
 placed in a vault in the burying-ground attached to the New Gravel Pit 
 Chapel. " The service was read in a solemn and suitable manner, by Mr. 
 Knott," formerly minister at Bury, and highly respected by Mr. Thomas 
 Robinson. 
 
452 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25- 
 
 respondence of Goethe and Knebel, a book that had deeply 
 interested me, and which exhibits the condescending love of 
 the superior and the reverential admiration of the inferior 
 most honorably towards both parties. My personal recollec- 
 tions added to my enjoyment, and though the mention of me 
 is not flattering in the way of praise, yet I feel it as an honor 
 to have my name even but written by the great man of his age, 
 accompanied by the expression of, or an implied, good-will. 
 
 Aj^ril 12th, — E. Field told nie he should be going to-day, 
 for the last time, to Mr. S. Rogers's house; and, therefore, I 
 went also. The pictures I may see again, but the house I 
 shall, probably, never more enter. This is one of the many 
 recent losses. 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. K 
 
 Brighton, April 12, 1856. 
 .... This National winds up the volume honorably to 
 its projectors. The last article interests me much from special 
 causes ; and I think I understand it. Indeed some theological 
 fictions seem to me to be more completely exposed than ever 
 before : the two atonement theories, for instance. And yet 
 the Reviewer does not appear to me to come to the point at 
 last, nor entirely to have dismissed the mysterious efficacy 
 doctrine. My own belief would at least be stated more 
 simply thus : to follow Christ is the way to be reconciled, or 
 put into a relationship of peace and harmony with the will of 
 God ; a man so reconciled becomes a sound man, if he was not 
 before. If some say that the same end might be obtained in other 
 ways, I am not anxious to refute them ; only grant this way 
 to be successful. Did Jesus say, " I am the only way," &c. ? 
 It is inferred that he meant it, however from the condemnation 
 of him who " believeth not," in St. John. This is thought- a 
 parenthesis of the writer's by a superior critic ; but, taking 
 the common reading, I see in it no more than the assertion, 
 that belief in the truths proclaimed by Christ w^as an absolute 
 condition of salvation ; and all experience shows it to be so in 
 fact. The believer in those principles is saved from the hell 
 of ** malice, hatred, and all uncharitableness." I need not trij 
 to believe this ; I can't help it. It is a question whether Mrs. 
 Wordsworth is more " enviable " from her belief in a ^^ future '' 
 than from her belief in the present ; or, more explicitly, I 
 should ascribe her happiness to her consciousness of this 
 world's moral government, rather than of her expectation of 
 
1856.] BROWN. — MISS WESTON. — KENYON. 453 
 
 immortality. Her " atonement " is perfect. The author of 
 the article on Goethe appears to me to have the mind which 
 could dispel the illusions surrounding another poet without 
 depreciating his claims (not fully acknowledged by you ) to the 
 truest inspiration. Who has sought to distinguish the holy 
 from the unholy in that spirit 1 — to prove by this very deg- 
 radation of the one how high the other was ? A character is 
 never done justice to by extenuating faults ; so I do not agree 
 
 to nisi horium. It is* kinder to read the blotted page 
 
 I thank you for the proof you have given me of a just con- 
 fidence in my sympathy, by telling me of your being left. I 
 had washed to know whether your relative still lingered. You 
 will never be alone in the human world. 
 
 Ai^ril 20th. — I had a new man at breakfast, the great 
 Robert Brown, as he is considered by many the first botanist 
 in the world. I know him only as a man of fine humor. He 
 is known by his travels in the New World, and his importation 
 of thousands of new species of plants. He is now^ feeble in 
 body, but an unaffectedly great man in character. There 
 were present, also, Boott, Stock, and Charles Murch. 
 
 May Jftli. — This day has been marked by a variety of im- 
 pressions which would admit of amplification, if I were so 
 disposed. After reading Ruskin, and hearing, at Essex Street, 
 a peace sermon, and lunching with Sarah, I went out on a 
 melancholy walk. The first fact I learned was the death of a 
 very estimable person, Miss Weston.* I next called on Ken- 
 yon. I found Procter there, and afterwards Hawthorn came. 
 Miss Bayley received me with tears, considering Kenyon's case 
 hopeless. T was sent for to him. He was sitting in his arm- 
 chair, and received me with a hearty shake of the hand and 
 a smile. From his manner of speaking I should not have sup- 
 posed him to be suffering from dangerous disease. He thanked 
 me for calling, and spoke in terms of warm friendship. He 
 said : '' Remember me to good Dr. Boott. Give him that [put- 
 ting a small seal into my hand], and tell him I always loved 
 him." He added, '' The seal is not worth a penny." I smiled, 
 
 * I first saw the Miss Westons in 1839. Thev once lived at Burv, and, mv 
 name being mentioned, I was introduced by Miss" Weston's desire. Slie told me 
 afterwards that her father spoke of mv brother as the most sensible man he 
 used to see at the Angel Club. The Miss Westons went to Rome, and I crave 
 them a letter to Miss Mrickenzie. On their return our acquaintance became 
 more intimate. Miss Weston was a woman of superior understanding and at- 
 tainments. She was an admirer of Wordsworth; Kenyon and I brought them 
 t(^gether. Wordsworth professed great respect for her. 
 
454 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 and said I would give it to Dr. Boott with pleasure. It is a 
 triangular little seal, of a sort of amber. 
 
 May 10th. — I dined again at Miss Coutts's. _ I was kindly 
 received, and had a very pleasant evening. An interesting 
 subject to talk on was the sale of Rogers's pictures, of which 
 Miss Coutts has been a very large purchaser ; and she gains 
 credit by the good taste she showed in her selection. Some 
 half-dozen of mv favorites were there : '* The Mob-capped Girl "; 
 " The Lady Sketching " ; '' The Cupid and Psyche " (the only 
 picture I dislike of Sir Joshua's) ; the Raphael, — " Christ in 
 the Garden"; the Paul Veronese *' Festival." There would 
 be no end should I go on. I was glad to find that the works 
 of Flaxman sold very high. The marble "Cupid" and "Psyche" 
 Miss Denman had some idea of buying ; but she rejoiced when 
 she heard that the " Cupid " fetched £ 115, and the " Psyche " 
 £125!!! 
 
 Lady Byron to H. C. R. 
 
 1 Cambridge Terrace, July 18, 1856. 
 
 I have a mind to say something m«re about the '' manifes- 
 tations." I omit "• spiritual " designedly, as in that word the 
 question is begged. 
 
 It appears to me that no one who has accepted the resur- 
 rection as an historical fact can refuse assent to the accumu- 
 lated evidences of these re.appea.ra7ices. I do not like the asso- 
 ciations commonly formed with the word " resurrection " ; as if 
 that body which was laid in the grave were reorganized. St. 
 Paul states that the body is " new " ; and all the expressions 
 respecting Christ's reappearance are reconcilable with that 
 supposition. 
 
 But though I should reject the resurrection if it had no 
 claim to belief except from testimony in a remote age, and by 
 no means completely satisfactory, I accept it with a strong 
 persuasion of its probability, on the ground, first, of its being 
 the fulfilment of the life ; secondly, of its having been the as- 
 sured expectation of Him who was all truth as regarded hu- 
 man nature in its embodied state, and therefore most likely to 
 know about its disembodied ; thirdly, of the harmoniousness 
 of the objects of the risen Christ (as narrated) with those of 
 his earthly career : '' Feed my sheep," &c. 
 
 Having rested tranquilly in that faith from a very early age, 
 I could not be troubled by Middleton or Strauss. You will 
 observe, however, that not one of the three reasons given above 
 applies to the " manifestations," for — 
 
1856.] LADY BYRON ON SPIRITUALISM. 455 
 
 1. There is no life-course so unique and so defined as to 
 point to " a fulfilment " (as far as I know), — the point to 
 which all the rays converged. 
 
 2. The- beings w^ho are said to have reappeared had not, as 
 men, shown Christ's unerring knowledge of *' what w^as in 
 many 
 
 3. The statements made concerning the reappearing of Icnown 
 personages have not that seal of truth impressed by self-like- 
 ness. We should not say, " He is like himself," as we could 
 say of Jesus Christ, when presented to us by those w^hose 
 " hearts burned within them " to see their Master again. 
 
 August 26th, — Donne walked with me to Dr. Boott's. We 
 met there Bartlett, formerly an actor, and the maker of his 
 own fortune. He is praised by Boott as a man of exemplary 
 goodness and integrity, a clear-headed, sensible man, seventy- 
 three years old. The talk w^as chiefly about the drama, actors, 
 &c. He was the friend of Jack Banister, also lauded by Boott 
 as a pre-eminently good man ; and T, being older than either, 
 could join in talking of old actors. Bartlett is naturally a 
 praiser of the old school of actors. Indeed he spoke kindly 
 of most men. I enjoyed the evening much. 
 
 September 9th. — I dined at home, and then went to the 
 theatre, merely to see Robson ; and that I did to my perfect 
 satisfaction. His variety of power is beyond all my expecta- 
 tion. I could not at first recognize him in the florid, smooth- 
 faced Baron. The green-eyed monster. Jealousy, is admirably 
 represented by him. His expression is marvellous. After- 
 ► wards I saw him in a parody of '^ Medea." A gentleman who 
 sat near me in the pit-stalls told me that his biu-lesque imita- 
 tion of Bistori was excellent. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 October 1, 1856. 
 
 Professor Scott related a mot of Talleyrand to Madame de 
 Stael on occasion of her ^^Delphine," which was thought to 
 contain a representation of Talleyrand in the character of an 
 old w^oman. On her pressing for his opinion of that w^ork, he 
 said : '' That is the work — is it not '^ — in which you and I 
 are exhibited in the disguise of females." 
 
 November ISth. — A letter from Mrs. Reid. Speaking of 
 Harriet Martineau, she says : '' She can write a fine leader, 
 
456 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 and plan something useful for her neighbors, while her voice is 
 lost from debility." x 
 
 December Sd, — The morning has been anxiously spent, and 
 marked by bad news. Miss Allen sent a messenger toMnform 
 me, that, by telegraph, the news came of Kenyon's death. It 
 was expected. For the present, no niore of this sad event. 
 He was a prosperous and munificent man. 
 
 December 18th, — I have this morning been looking at the 
 portrait of W. S. Landor, sent me yesterday by Booth. A 
 present from him and Miss Bayley.* 
 
 December Slst. — I closed the j^ar in good spirits, though I 
 feel my faculties are declining. Yet, as I am now far in my 
 eighty-second year (in less than three months it will be com- 
 pleted), and being fully sensible of the loss of memory, I shall 
 not be remiss in making all the necessary preparations for 
 securing others from harm. After Dr. Aikin had suffered his 
 first attack of paralysis, he said : " I must make the most I 
 can of the salvage of life." 
 
 1857. 
 
 January 15th, — I found enjoyment in the cleverness of two 
 numbers of the Times and the last Examiner, In a letter by 
 Holyoake, the atheist, is an epigram by his friend Elliott, the 
 Corn-law Rhymer, which settles the question, — What is a 
 communist 1 — One who has yearnings for equal division of 
 unequal earnings. Idler or bungler, he is willing to fork out 
 his penny and pocket your shilling. He who is not satisfied 
 with this will not be satisfied with any elaborate reasoning on* 
 the subject. 
 
 March SOth, — My evening with Miss Bayley as agreeable 
 as the preceding. She has lent me a list of the legacies given 
 by Kenyon, of which I will make mention hereafter, when 
 copied by me. I can only say now, that it shows on the part 
 of Kenyon great anxiety to do good wherever he could. 
 
 [On a paper in which H. C. R. has copied out this list of lega- 
 cies, he has written : " John Kenyon, an excellent man, a native 
 of the West India Islands. He left more than £ 140,000 in 
 legacies to individuals. f A generous man, and fond of literary 
 
 * [Kenyoirs residuary legatees.] It is not the portrait by Boxall, but more 
 strikiiity as a likeness. It was the work of a young man, named Fisher, in 
 whom Kenyon took interest. — H. C. K. 
 
 t Mr. and Mrs. Browning received legacies amounting to more than ten 
 thousand pounds; and B. 1). Procter between six and seven thousand. 
 
1857.] JOHN KEN YON. 457 
 
 society, and that of artists. He wrote elegant verses, and 
 printed volumes of poetry for his friends." Elsewhere there 
 are remarks of H. C. K on his friend, which may aptly have 
 a place here : " John Kenyon has the face of a Benedictine 
 monk, and the joyous talk of a good fellow." '^ He is the au- 
 thor of a ' Rhymed Plea for Tolerance,' and he delights in see- 
 ing at his hospitable table every variety of literary notabilities, 
 and therefore he has been called ' a feeder of lions.' " — ^' He 
 is more bent on making the happy happier, than on making 
 the unhappy less unhappy, — a distinction I do not remember 
 to have seen noticed." — " It was only a few days before his 
 own departure, and while he happily retained possession of a 
 disposing mind, memory, and uncferstanding, that he received 
 notice of the death of his brother, to whom he was tenderly 
 attached. As there was no relation sufficiently near to have 
 formed expectations, which are sometimes thought to consti- 
 tute rights, he devoted the last few days of his life to the dic- 
 tation of codicils, promoting with conscientious discrimination 
 the happiness of numerous friends, — a few literary, but the 
 greater number known only in private circles, — and so among 
 eighty legatees, including annuitants, nearly exhausting his 
 ample means."] ^ 
 
 April 7th, — I had several interesting matters before me to- 
 day. The one most agreeable is the recent appointment of 
 Donne to the Examinership of Plays, which he has held as 
 deputy to John Kemble. I called on him to congratulate him. 
 
 Ajwil 28th. — The only incident of the day was my dinner 
 at Mocatta's, Jun. A small party of eight. There came, in the 
 evening, a larger party. I was accosted in a pleasant way by 
 
 -- * The following extract is from a sketch of Kenyon, by G. S. Hillard, 
 which appeared in the Boston Driilij Courier^ and of which H. C. R. distributed 
 many copies printed in a separate form : — 
 
 " He was at that tirne about sixty-six years old, a man of an ample frame 
 and portly presence, — with a florid English complexion, a pleasant, compan- 
 ionable blue eye, a bald head, and an expanded brow which looked as if it had 
 never been darkened by a frown. He had the aspect of a man who had en- 
 joyed life wisely, but not too well: and who had breathed no air but that of 
 cheerfulness and happiness. There were no lines of care, no scars of conflict, 
 no stains of struggle, upon his serene and gentle front; but all gave evidence 
 of a warm heart, a good digestion, a sunny temper, and an enjoyable nature. 
 But there was no overlaying of the intellectual by the physical; the stamp of 
 the scholar and the gentleman was as marked as that of the other elements I 
 have noted. There Avas something peculiarly winning in his manner, the 
 tones of his voice, and the expressions of his face. You were at ease with 
 him in a moment. The very grasp of his hand had something cordial and as- 
 suring in it, as if you felt the pulse of the heart beating through it. In addi- 
 tion to the ' Rhymed Plea for Tolerance.' he wrote * A Day at Tivoli,' and 
 msiny other poems, — three volumes in all." 
 
 VOL. II. 20 
 
 / 
 
458 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 Frank Stone, the painter of Quillinan's daughter. Wordsworth 
 wrote a beautiful Sonnet on the picture. 
 
 May 3d, — At the Athenaeum^ read in the new Edinhui^gK 
 Review an amusing paper on Bos well. The reviewer thinks 
 that Macaulay despises the biographer too much, while he too 
 highly praises the biography, as if it did not require a certain 
 sense of what ought to be selected in order to produce a w^ork 
 superior to any other in existence of the class. Johnson advised 
 Bos well not to speak depreciatingly of himself. The w^orld will 
 repeat the evil report, and make no allow^ance for the source. 
 Unusual candor ! N. B. — It would have been well for me had 
 I distinctly recognized this truth before. It is too late for me 
 now to change my practice.* 
 
 July 19th. — Lady Cranw^orth quoted a saying of Lord 
 Lyndhurst : " A Chancellor's work may be divided into three 
 classes : first, the business that is worth the labor done ; 
 second, that which does itself ; third, the work which is not 
 done at all." 
 
 September 9th, — Why time appears to fly more rapidly in 
 old age than youth is ingeniously accounted for by Soame 
 Jenyns. Each year is compared wdth the w^hole life. The 
 twentieth at one time is the seventeenth at another, and that, 
 of course, appears less ; but in fact there- is, perhaps, this real 
 difference, that in a given time one does less in old age. All 
 this day, for instance, was spent in reading less than a hun- 
 dred pages of Froude. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Paynter. 
 
 September 10, 1867. 
 
 When you use the word '' Christian," you, I know% do not, as 
 many do, or once did, think that Christianity consists in the 
 idolatrous belief of the presence of the Deity in a piece of 
 bread, or in the five points of metaphysic faith. These are the 
 sad shells w^hich enclose the kernel. I would say, as you 
 doubtless think, that Christianity is not destroyed by its 
 vehicle. It is found more or less damaged everywhere. I did 
 not mean to set up my speculation against yours ; and, 
 though what T write would be a heresy which deserved the 
 fagot in a past age, yet I do not use it to attack anybody. 
 
 [Two other extracts on the same subject may be given here, 
 though not actually written in this year : — ] 
 
 I am not anxious to make converts to dogmas, but I am very 
 
1867.] Oil THE STUDY OF WORDSWORTH. 459 
 
 anxious that serious men of other isms should be willing to re- 
 ceive us as members of the one Catholic Church, and I think 
 that among the Churchmen of the Whately school this may 
 not be hard to obtain. 
 
 The religious enthusiasts will make sacrifices, which the re- 
 ligious thinkers will not. It does not follow that the thinkers 
 are not sincere in their professions ; but it is, I suppose, the 
 same turn of mind which makes them think, and produces a 
 coolness of character. This is a sad experience ; but it does 
 not affect one's convictions. 
 
 H. C. R. TO James Mottram, Jun., Esq. 
 
 September 12, 1857. 
 
 It is a reasonable request you make me, that, having put into 
 your hands Wordsworth's Poems, I should give you some as- 
 sistance in setting about to read them ; otherwise you might 
 be alarmed at the undertaking. Much, indeed intensely, as I 
 love Wordsworth, — acknowledging that I owe more to him 
 than any other poet in our language, — yet when Hook at the 
 single volume which comprehends the whole collection, I feel 
 some apprehension that any young person who may open it 
 will be inclined to shut it again, and look no further than the 
 title and a few pages beyond. All poetry, except the narrative, 
 requires an effort to get on with ; and ballads are popular from 
 their brevity and ease. But a poem is worth nothing that is 
 not a companion for years, and this is what distinguishes 
 Wordsworth from the herd of poets. He lasts. I love him 
 more now than I did fifty years ago. You will see few men 
 advanced in life who will say the same of Lord Byron, even 
 though they once loved him, — that is, as I did W^ordsworth, 
 from the beginning. You have, I dare say, heard that Words- 
 worth was, for between twenty and thirty years, utterly de- 
 cried, and mainly through the satire in the Edinburgh Revieiv, 
 In my youth, I fell in with those of his works then just pub- 
 lished, and became a passionate lover. I knew many by heart, 
 and on my journeys was always repeating or reading them. I 
 made many converts. Wordsworth had to create his public. 
 He formed the taste of the age in a great measure. Even 
 Byron, who affected to ridicule him (and Wordsworth laid him- 
 self open to ridicule), nevertheless studied and imitated him. 
 The third and fourth cantos of " Childe Harold " were written 
 under Wordsworth's inspiration, that is, as to style ; in mat- 
 
460 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25 
 
 ter, nothing can be more opposed. The cause of the opposition, 
 and the pretext for the satire, lies in the simple style, on which 
 every abuse was lavished. Wordsworth was of opinion that 
 posterity will value most those lyrical ballads which were most 
 laughed at. He may be partial in this opinion ; certainly they 
 are the most char act ervitic. This he said to me when I re- 
 marked that no metrical form of his various poems afforded me 
 so great pleasure as the Sonnets. " You are quite wrong," he 
 replied. But I forget that my object is not to dissert on 
 Wordsworth as a poet, but to give you my opinion as to the 
 order in which the poems should be read, and which of them 
 may be altogether passed over. I would not recommend you 
 to begin with the Preface, wise and convincing as it is ; I 
 would wait a little before entering on the controversy. I enjoy 
 these prose writings much ; indeed, I hope one day there will 
 be a collection of his prose compositions. 
 
 I shall now go over the contents of the volume, and put 
 down the titles of those poems that are to be read at all 
 events, and those that are to be read first. I go over the 
 single volume regularly : — 
 
 ^^ Poems written in YouthP — (Pass them over, unread.) 
 
 ^^ Poems referring to the Period of Childhood,^'' — Among 
 them read : " Lucy Gray " ; ^ " We are Seven " ; ^ " The 
 Longest Day." This may be enough on a first perusal. On a 
 second nearly all are good. " Alice Fell " is the one least 
 worthy, and which caused most reproach. 
 
 " Poems founded on the Affections''* — "^ ^* The Brothers " ; 
 '' Michael " ; '' Louisa " ; "- The Armenian Lady's Love " ; 
 * " She dwelt among the Untrodden Ways " ; " 'T is said that 
 some have died for Love " ; [* " Let other Bards of Angels 
 sing " ; and ^ " Yes, thou art fair," &c.] (These, I know from 
 Wordsworth himself, were made on his wife.) In this section 
 is found one of the poems about w^hich most controversy has 
 been held, — " The Idiot Boy." Lord Byron's joke was that 
 the subject of the poem must have been the poet. Let it be 
 read hereafter, not yet. Wordsworth would not permit a selec- 
 tion to be published which did not include this. 
 
 " Poems on the naming of Places " are founded on feelings so 
 personal, that, with all my admiration of them, I would not 
 recommend any for a first perusal of Wordsworth. 
 
 " Poems of the Fancy'' — One of the least clear of Words- 
 
 * For explanation of asteri<;ks see the end of the letter. 
 
1857.] ORDER OF STUDY. THE ENGLISH GOETHE. 461 
 
 worth's disquisitions, and in which he differed from Coleridge, 
 is his distinction between Fancy and Imagination. Hereafter 
 it will be seen that Imagination is the higher, and Fancy the 
 lower power. I can only set out a few in either class : 
 ^ '' To the Daisy " ; " To the same Flower" ; =* " To the Small 
 Celandine " ; " To the same Flower." 
 
 ** Poems of the Imagination.''^ — ^ "To the Cuckoo " ; [^ " A 
 Night Piece " ; ^ " Yew Trees "] (in Wordsworth's own opinion, 
 his best specimens of blank verse). " She was a Phantom of 
 Delight " (Mrs. Wordsworth). " Nightingale, thou surely 
 art " ; * " I wandered lonely as a Cloud " ; " Ruth " ; " The 
 Thorn " ; * " Resolution and Independence " ; ^ " Hart-leap 
 Well" ; ^ "Lines composed above Tintern Abbey" ] ^ " Lao- 
 damia " ; " Presentiments " ; "* " A Jewish Family." The four- 
 teen poems set down in the class of Imaginative Poems are of 
 such characteristic quality, that whoever has read them with- 
 out enjoyment should not be teased with any recommendation 
 to read more. I could have added to the number, but should 
 have rendered the selection too numerous. " Peter Bell " and 
 " The W^aggoner " are among those I could best spare, and do 
 not recommend. 
 
 '^ Miscellaneous Sonnets.'^'* — "W^ords worth," savs Landor, his 
 bitter enemy, " has written more fine Sonnets than are to be 
 met with in the language besides." I can only put part of the « 
 lines : i. " Nuns, fret not " ; ix. " Praised be the Art " ; 
 XXIV., v., VI. "• Specimens of Translations from Michael 
 Angelo " ; xxxiii. " The World is too much with us." 
 
 Part Second. " Scorn not the Sonnet " ; [" To Lady Beau- 
 mont " ; "To Lady Mary Lowther."] (No Court ever produced 
 anything more graceful.) xxii. "Hail Twilight"! Repeat- 
 ing this, and another on a Painting, to Tieck, he exclaimed, 
 " This is an English Goethe ! " xxxiii. " Pure Element of 
 Waters " ; xxxvi. " Earth has not anything," &c. 
 
 Part Third. xxxii., iii. Two on a Likeness; xlvi. 
 "Proud were ye. Mountains." I have found the selecting 
 hard. 
 
 " Memorials of a Tour in Scotland, 1808^ — " Rob Roy's 
 Grave " ; " The Matron of Jedborough " ; * " Yan'ow Un- 
 visited " ; ^ " The Blind Highland Boy." 
 
 ''Memorials of a Tour in Scotland, ISlJfy — * "Yarrow 
 Visited " ; compare with "Yarrow Un visited." 
 
 " Foems dedicated to National Independence and. Liberty.'''' — 
 I abstain from selecting any from this class. Let it all he read 
 
462 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 25. 
 
 in due time. Southey echoed a remark of mine, that whoever 
 strips these poems of their poetry will find the naked prose 
 to be wisdom of a high character. The '' Thanksgiving Ode " 
 closes this set. 
 
 '^ Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820.^^ — These 
 should be read in connection also, but for the present may be 
 selected, "Was it to disenchant or to undo"; "0 for the 
 Help of Angels " ; " Elegiac Stanzas " (H. C. R.'^was the friend, 
 and he supplied the Introduction). 
 
 ^''Memorials of a Tour in Italy.'''' — These may be read in 
 connection, otherwise they do not belong to the best of his 
 works, but are very wise. " The Egyptian Maid " may be read 
 hereafter. It is gracefully romantic. 
 
 The " Duddon Sonnets " are exquisitely refined ; to be studied 
 hereafter. It is not easy to separate any by exalting or ex- 
 cluding. 
 
 "The White Boe of Rylstone.^' — Jeffrey, in the Edinburgh 
 Review, declares this to have the distinction of being the very 
 worst poem ever ivritten. In a certain technical sense, and with 
 reference to arbitrary rules, it may be. If so, I would rather 
 be the author of Wordsworth's worst than Jeffrey's best. Jt is 
 not Wordsworth's best, certainly. 
 
 " The Ecclesiastical Sonnets " ought to be studied by him who 
 would favorably appreciate the Church of England; and in 
 conp^ction with the " Book of the Church, " by Southey. No. 
 XX. is recommended for its wise and liberal conclusion. I re- 
 peated it to 0' Council, and he acknowledged its excellence. All 
 the varied chai-ms of religion are collected in these Sonnets. 
 Though accused falsely of bigotry, Wordsworth shows that he 
 can do justice to the Non-cons. In *Part 3, vi., " Clerical In- 
 tegrity, " Milton has justice done him, — Milton, the Non-con. 
 
 " Yarrow Revisited " is not equal to the other two on Yar- 
 row. But the Sonnet on Sir Walter Scott, "A Trouble not of 
 Clouds, " is f^inong the very best. 
 
 " Tour in Scotland, 1881,''^ should be read after the other 
 Scotch Tours. 
 
 ''Evening Voluntaries.'''' — This is one of the later poems 
 (1832), It is the characteristic of these to be less striking and 
 remarkable, and less objectionable, — more like the poems of 
 other men. 
 
 " Poems on a Tour in 18SSr — I made this journey with 
 Wordsworth. The remark made before applies to these. I 
 would notice only, though others may be equal, " Lowther, in 
 thy majestic pile are seen. " 
 
1857.] FIRST LOVE, — - THEN STUDY. 463 
 
 " Poems of Sentiment and Reflection,-'^ — * " Expostulation and 
 Eeply"; ii. ** The Tables turned " ; *iii. "Lines written in 
 Early Spring " ; v. " T.o my Sister " ; * vi. " Simon Lee " ; * viii. 
 " A Poet's Epitaph" ; * x. " Matthew " ; *xl " Two April Morn- 
 ings ";xii. ''The Fountain"; *xiii. '* Three Sonnets on Per- 
 sonal Talk"; *xviii. "Fidelity." These last poems are the 
 most characteristic, and therefore most decisive of the reader's 
 taste. The " Ode to Duty," and the " Happy Warrior," on the 
 other hand, among the most correct and dignified. 
 
 '^ Sonnets dedicated to Liberty and Orders — The remark 
 made on " Poems dedicated to National Independence " applies 
 equally to these. Indeed, one does not see why the classes 
 are separated. These should be studied hereafter. 
 
 " Sonnets on the Punishment of Death " have more truth than 
 poetry. 
 
 " Miscellaneous,^- — " The Horn of Egremont Castle." 
 
 " Inscriptions,^^ — " Hopes, what are they ? " A sort of con- 
 tinuation of " The Longest Day." All these Inscriptions 
 deserve perusal hereafter. 
 
 " Chaucer Modernized " may be passed over. 
 
 "Referring to Old ^^e." — *"The Old Cumberland Beg- 
 gar." One of the very best. 
 
 " Epitaplis and Elegiac Pieces.'''^ — All excellent. I can se- 
 lect only " Elegiac Stanzas " ; " To the Daisy." 
 
 "' Ode — Intimations of Immortality y — This is the grand- 
 est of Wordsworth's smaller poems, as it is perhaps the grand- 
 est ode in the English language. But let it be passed over for 
 the present. It is, as some say, mystical. It treats of a mys- 
 tery, certainly. 
 
 " The Excursion " is to be studied with attention, as it will 
 be read with delight by all who have perused with love the 
 poems already recommended. 
 
 This applies also to the Prelude, 
 
 This list has swollen to such a size that I have been forced 
 to go over it again, and put a * to those which I think might 
 be first read. If, when this is done, the reader has not already 
 acquired a taste for Wordsworth, it would be loss of time to 
 go on.t 
 
 t In another letter on the same subject, H. C. R. says : — 
 *' I owe much of the happiness of my life to the effect produced on me, 
 first by his works, and then by his friendship. I am by no means a general 
 
 reader of poetry, and require a substantial and moral drift in all 
 
 There are two idyls, or pastoral poems, which dear Charles Lamb used to 
 place after the Gospels, which should appertain to a second course of Words- 
 
464 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 September 15th. — I have gone over Goethe's opinions trans- 
 lated by Winckstern. The charm gone. There are a few ad- 
 mirable specimens, which I here insert, having finished the 
 little volume. They are the best, as well as the shortest : 
 " Nothing is more terrible than active ignorance." — " I will 
 listen to any one's convictions, but pray keep your doubts to 
 yourself; I have plenty of my own."— " Great passions are 
 
 incurable diseases ; the very remedies make them worse." 
 
 " Our adversaries think they refute us when they reiterate 
 their own opinions, without paying attention to ours." — " The 
 world cannot do without great men, but great men are very 
 troublesome to the world." — ^' Water is not indicative of 
 frogs, but frogs are indicative of water." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 1858. 
 
 JANUARY 1st. — The new year opened ominously. There 
 was on my table, near my bed, a letter, which, on opening, 
 I found to be from Mrs. Byles, informing me that her husband 
 is to be the successor of Cresswell, who is become the Judge 
 of Probate. I heartily rejoice at this. A better man could 
 not be found, and he will prove one of the best of the judges. 
 
 February 16th. — This is what I WTote in F. Sharpe's album, 
 which filled the little page, the left side being uniformly left 
 to be filled up by the owner : '^ Were this my last horn* (and 
 that of an octogenarian cannot be far off), I would thank God 
 for permitting me to behold so much of the excellence con- 
 worth To me they seem perfect, — they are * The Brothers ' and 
 
 * Michael.' .... One of the lady revilers of the eighteenth century ex- 
 
 Fressing great contempt for Wordsworth, but being a good Christian at heart, 
 begged permission to read to her ' Resolution and Independence.' She was 
 affected to tears, and said, ' I have not heard anything for years that so much 
 delighted me, but, after all, it is not poetry.^ N^ import e^ we will come to a 
 compromise — verses, not poetry, but giving great delight. Wordsworth said 
 the same of Kenyon's 'Rhymed Plea for Tolerance,' sent him anonymously: 
 he said, 'I cannot say it is precisely poetry, but it is something as good.' 
 Kenyon was by no means displeased." 
 
 Mr. Robinson was remarkable for the extent to which he could repeat 
 Wordsworth's poems from memory; and this use of them he retained till the 
 end. At ninety and ninety-one he quoted them with perfect ease. This rich 
 possession, which he speaks of as a great source of happiness to him, had 
 doubtless no small part in making his character what it was. 
 
1858.] THREE FRIENDS. — UNIVERSITY DEGREES. 465 
 
 ferred on individuals. Of woman, I saw the type of her heroic 
 greatness in the person of Mrs. Siddons ; of her fascinations, 
 in Mrs. Jordan and Mdlle. Mars ; I Hstened with rapture to 
 the dreamy monologues of Coleridge, — ' that oki man elo- 
 quent ' ; I travelled wdth Wordsworth, the greatest of our lyrico- 
 philosophical poets ; I relished the wit and pathos of Charles 
 Lamb -, I conversed freely with Goethe at his own table, 
 beyond all competition the supreme genius of his age and 
 country. He acknowledged his obligations only to Shakespeare, 
 Spinoza, and Linnaeus, as Wordsworth, when he resolved 
 to be a poet, feared competition only with Chaucer, Spenser, 
 Shakespeare, and Milton. Compared with Goethe, the memo- 
 ry of Schiller, Wieland, Herder, Tieck, the Schlegels, and 
 Schelling has become faint." 
 
 Mo.rch 2d. — At half past six Cookson came, and I had a 
 most agreeable tete-a-tete dinner. Perfectly satisfied with 
 everything he said, and was delighted to remark a sympathy 
 I did not expect on every point we touched on. I say nothing 
 here of the subject. He is an admirable man, and the world 
 acknowledges it. There is now no subject on which I cannot 
 consult him. It is a great comfort to call such a man friend. 
 
 March 16th, — At the request of Scharf, I looked at a paint- 
 ing by Gary of dear Charles Lamb. In no one respect a 
 likeness, — thoroughly bad, — complexion, figure, expression 
 imlike. But for " Elia'' on a paper, I should not have 
 thought it possible that it could be meant for Charles Lamb. 
 
 April 11th. — I concluded the day by a call on J. J. Tayler. 
 It was very interesting. I sympathize with all the objects 
 which interest him. He is more decided than ever in his 
 opinions favorable to spiritual religion, as opposed to criticism. 
 
 April 27th. — I went to Lady Byron's, and had a long and 
 interesting chat of several hours, improved by Miss Montgom- 
 ery's coming. I like her much. She has humor and original- 
 ity. She lives in retirement at Hampstead. 
 
 May 5th. — Conferring of degrees by the London University. 
 The Chancellor delivered a respectable address, giving an ac- 
 count of the University charter. A studied, plausible defence, 
 but by no means satisfactory to those who do not think the 
 sole object of the University was to constitute a body of ex- 
 aminers. The admission of any man to be a member, who can 
 stand an examination, utterly destroys the social quality and 
 value of the degree.* 
 
 * On this subject H. C. R. felt strongly. In a letter to Lord Monteagle, h% 
 20* 
 
466 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 May 7th, — A dinner at Mr. Justice Byles's was the only 
 incident of the day worth noticing. There were seventeen at 
 table. Two -judges, Barons Martin and Channell. I had a 
 little conversation with Lady Martin, Pollock's daughter ; and 
 Miss Foster, Lady Byles's niece. Baron Martin related, after 
 dinner, that he had heard me mentioned by Baron Alderson 
 as a singular instance of men retiring from the bar in full 
 possession of the lead. I answered that was an exaggeration, 
 but I did well in retiring as I did, knowing that men far 
 superior to myself would otherwise soon take the lead from 
 me, as I was no lawyer. This was the literal truth, unaffect- 
 edly spoken. The repetition is not unwarrantable egotism.* 
 
 May 11th, — I went to Gibson's, f Stayed there from six 
 till past ten. I enjoyed the evening. The ancestor, in the 
 fourth or fifth degree, came from Kendal, a poor lad of 
 fourteen, having, unknown to his family, stolen away to Lon- 
 don in a carrier's wagon. Like one of Dickens's heroes, the 
 boy lay at the door of a London merchant, was taken by him 
 into the house, and became apprentice, partner, son-in-law, and 
 heir ! ! ! He died rich. A descendant of his patronized Ark- 
 wright, to whom he lent a large sum of money in confidence. 
 The barber merited it, bat acted with a perilous integrity and 
 honor. The money was lent for twenty-one years. He refused 
 to give any of the family an account after the death of the 
 lender. " If you want money, I will let you have all you want, 
 but no account till the twenty-one years are at an end." Then 
 he gave the family some sixty-odd thousands ! ! ! Or Was it one 
 hundred ] I am not sure. 
 
 June 11th, — I called on Dr. Boott. The great traveller 
 
 says : "Examinations cannot usefully be carried on irrespective of the time 
 ernployed and of the means used in obtainino: the knowledge. It should be 
 known that the student has had the benefit of a certain course of instruction. 
 Knowledge is not everything. Habits and the power of applying it are also of 
 great importance." 
 
 * I dined for the first time with Byles in 1840. From this time our acquaint- 
 ance continued, though he was too busy for much visiting with any one. And 
 I saw more of Lady Byles than of him. She is a very sweet woman, Joseph 
 Wedd's youngest 'daughter. Justice Byles is pre-em'inent in his fitness for 
 professional business. — H. C E. 
 
 t Thomas Gibson till middle age Avns a Spitalfields silk-manufacturer. He 
 was a man of considerable literary acquirements, an active politician and great 
 Liberal ; an admirable speaker, and one of the earliest among mercantile men 
 who thoroughly mastered and energetically advocated the views of Political 
 Economy, then so obnoxious, now so generally accepted. H. C. E., though 
 differing much from so advanced a Liberal, greatly esteemed him. The influ- 
 ence of his clear intellect, manly character, and generous heart, is always most 
 gratefully and affectionately acknowledged by all those who had the happiness 
 to have been brought under it. He died in 1863. 
 
 
1^58.] SCENES OF CHILDHOOD. — SAMUEL ROGERS. 467 
 
 and botanist, Robert Brown, died in the forenoon. Dr. Boott 
 sat up with him the day before. A- great man of science, 
 and morally most excellent, has departed. His simplicity, 
 naivete, and benignity were charming. He once breakfasted 
 with me, and w^as always friendly. 
 
 June 17th. — I called on Mrs. Boott, who confirmed an anec- 
 dote I had heard. The Eeverend called on Robert Brown, 
 
 but not officially (rather officiously), and said : " Have you 
 thought seriously of death '? " — " Indeed I have, long ,and 
 often, but I have no apprehensions, no anxiety." This is 
 as every good man ought to feel. Of Robert Brown I am not 
 entitled to speak as a man of science, but I may of his most 
 amiable character and benevolence. 
 
 September Sd. — (Bury.) Had a call from Richard Marti- 
 neau, who proposed my accompanying him to Walsham le Wil- 
 lows, where he has bought an estate. There I slept three 
 nights, and highly enjoyed the visit. He is a man to be envied 
 in his domestic relations, and he has at Walsham the elements 
 of a fine estate. Every morning before breakfast, and at odd 
 times, I was reading " Westward, Ho ! " Mr. Martineau took 
 me to W^attisfield, the place whence my mother came : but 
 none of her family that I know live there now, and the name 
 of Crabb is apparently forgotten. We drove round the village, 
 by the house in which I lived six months with my uncle Crabb, 
 1789-90. I recognized the house on the hill. On the Sun- 
 day I went to the old meeting, which has undergone no change 
 for the last half-century. I heard of a Mrs. Jocelyn, daughter 
 of Tom Crabb, and was told she sat in the old pew in which I 
 used to sit with my uncle Crabb's family. The village is very 
 little altered. It awakened old feelings, which have no other 
 value than that they connect the latter end with the beginning 
 of one's life. 
 
 H. C. R. TO T. R. 
 
 Bkighton. September 28, 1858. 
 
 The acquaintance I have seen most of is Samuel Rogers. It 
 is marvellous how well he bears his affliction. He knows that 
 he will never be able to stand on his legs again ; yet his cheer- 
 fulness, and even vivacity, have undergone no diminution. His 
 wealth enables him to partake of many enjoyments which 
 could not otherwise be possessed. Yesterday I took a drive 
 with him through Lord Chichester's park. He has had a car- 
 riage made for himself, which deserves to be taken as a model 
 
468 REMINISCENCES OF HENKY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 for all in his condition. The back falls down and forms an in- 
 clined plane j the sofa-chair in which he sits is pushed in ; the 
 back is then closed ; and a side-door is opened to the seat in 
 which his servant sits when no friend is with him. In spite 
 of the noise of the carriage, the feebleness of his voice, and 
 his imperfect hearing (as mine is in a less degree), we were en- 
 abled to converse. His sister and he now occupy one of the 
 largest houses in Brighton, and they visit each other twice a 
 day. I was present the other day when he was wheeled in his 
 sofa-chair to her in her sofa-chair, and the servant assisted them 
 to put their hands together. 
 
 December IsL — I called on Mrs. Fisher. She sent for Le 
 Breton,* who sat and chatted with us sensibly on the present 
 Church question. He has no prejudices and no antipathies, 
 but manifests a generous love of goodness. 
 
 1859. 
 
 January 19th. — This morning arrived the news of the 
 death of dear Mrs. Wordsworth. She died in the night of the 
 17th. I wish I could venture down to show my reverence for 
 her, but to attend a funeral would be dangerous in this 
 weather. 
 
 February Jfth, — William Wordsworth came in the forenoon. 
 He gave me an interesting account of the last days of his 
 honored mother. For a fortnight before her death her hear- 
 ing was partly restored. She had also some sense of light. 
 She was perfectly happy. She desired five pounds to be given 
 to me, as one of the oldest of her friends, that I might buy 
 with it a ring. The Mount will be quitted in a few months. I 
 shall, I suppose, never see it again. This is a sad rent in the 
 structure of my friendships. 
 
 February 15th. — I went to the Photographic Society, 
 where I heard a lecture on architecture from George Street, 
 
 * Rev. Philip Le Breton, youngest son of the Very Rev. Francis Le Breton, 
 Dean of Jersey, and Rector of St. Saviour in that island. He succeeded his 
 father in the rectory of St. Saviour ; but, afterwards being led, by reading and 
 reflection, to doubt'the truth of some of the principal doctrines of the Church 
 of England, he determined to resign his living ; and for the same reason he 
 declined the offer of the Deanery, which would have placed him at the head 
 of the clergy of Jersey. His sacrifices for conscience' sake, his thoughtful 
 intelligence and kindness, the bearing of a true gentleman, and a charm in his 
 personal intercourse, won for him the admiration and high esteem of a large 
 circle of friends. 
 
1889.] SALE AT RYDAL. 469 
 
 Ruskin in the chair. I dare Dot pretend to say that I brought 
 away any definite ideas on art, and yet I really enjoyed the 
 addresses of both, and felt as I used to feel from the German 
 professors, as if some seeds were sowed in me which would 
 produce fruit hereafter, though unconsciously. The lecture 
 consisted merely of an explanation of the photographic repre- 
 sentations of the buildings in Venice and Verona ; both were 
 the objects of warm eulogy. Ruskin could not help hinting 
 that^ the value of these representations is increased by the 
 peril in which the originals were likely to be thrown by the 
 chances of war. 
 
 April 16th. — Called on Lady Byron, and found with her a 
 very interesting man, a Mr. Macdonald, author of a poem en- 
 titled " Within and Without," which I must read. He is an 
 invalid, and a German scholar. The talk was altogether in- 
 teresting. 
 
 May 29th. — The most agreeable incident of the day was 
 Scott's second lecture, — a most eloquent eulogy on ^yo men 
 of transcendent intellect in the w^orld's history. Homer, ^s- 
 chylus, Shakespeare, Dante, and Michael Angelo. Scott read 
 very beautifully Wordsworth's Sonnet from Michael Angelo. 
 I regretted the absence of all notice of Goethe. 
 
 June 22d. — I was on the point of going out when I had a 
 
 long call from . Such is my memory ! I cannot recollect 
 
 who called. I only know it was a call I was well pleased to 
 receive, and that it gave me pleasure. One recollects impres- 
 sions ; it was Le Breton the elder. There are few I like so 
 well, and w^hose conversation is such a refreshment to me. That 
 a man so excellent should have the infirmities I have, recon- 
 ciles me to them. His respect makes me respect myself 
 
 June 29th. — I received a catalogue of Wordsworth's books 
 for sale by auction at Rydal, another place where I have had 
 much enjoyment, and which I shall never see again. 
 
 Jtily 8th. — I walked to the Olympic Theatre, where I had 
 more pleasure than I generally have. The fir^t petite comedie, 
 " Nine Points of the Law.". . . . But it was to see Robson 
 I went. He played in two pieces, — " The Porter's Knot," 
 in which the porter, who rises in life, is reduced to poverty 
 by the misconduct of his son ; and in the second act, after 
 six years, appears as a porter. His exhibition of passion 
 in his paternal affliction is admirable, — quite unique. But 
 this is far siu-passed by his appearance in " Retained for the 
 Defence," a satirical exposure of spurious sentiment. A fool- 
 
470 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. LChap. 26. 
 
 ish philanthropist is wiUing to give his daughter to an advo- 
 cate for his generous defence of persecuted innocence ; and he 
 invites the acquitted felon to an evening party, in order to re- 
 dress his wrongs and restore his social position. Now, this 
 hero is Robson. Such a brute surely was never conceived ; 
 nothing that Liston ever performed was so farcical and ridicu- 
 lous. Of course, nothing can be conceived more stupid and 
 absurd than the farce ; its sole merit is the exhibition it pro- 
 duces of Robson. But one must be content to foregg all 
 questions about sense or probability. His grimaces on eating 
 hice at a swarry, and the way in which he olds his umhrelli, 
 and vipes his nose, defy all criticism. 
 
 July 10th. — Dined with Field, and had a very agreeable 
 cose with Herbert, the Roman Catholic painter, — a zealot, but 
 not a fanatic ; he is too benevolent. There is something very 
 delightful in his pious simplicity. 
 
 October 5th. — I called on Mr. J. J. Tayler, and had a very 
 cheering chat with him. He is the man who always comforts ; 
 he unites hopefulness with a benignant interpretation of all 
 doubtful matters.* 
 
 1860. 
 
 January 5th. — A visit to Lord Cranworth. I had a letter 
 from him, proposing that I should meet him at London Bridge 
 Station. There I was accosted very kindly by my old com- 
 rade and fellow-circuiteer, the ex-Chancellor. A journey by 
 rail of eleven miles is soon made. At Bromley, Lord Cran- 
 worth's carriage w^as waiting for us, and it is four miles to 
 HoUwood. I had no expectation of seeing so splendid a seat. 
 The house stands on or very near the site of Mr. Pitt's house, 
 and has an extensive view% Lady Cranworth was in attend- 
 ance on her sister. Lady Culling Smith, but in her place w^as 
 the widow of her brother, Mr. Carr, with four very fine chil- 
 dren. We had luncheon between two and three, and I w^as 
 left to myself between luncheon and dinner. The hours, which 
 were on a card in my chamber, are, breakfast, 9 ; luncheon, 
 2.30 ; dinner, 7.30. I was put at my ease at once, and had 
 time to read an admirable paper in the National. Lord Cran- 
 
 * During this year, the Rev. T. Madge, of Essex Street Chapel, having 
 resigned his pastorship, H. C. R. became an attendant at Little Portland Street 
 Chapel, where the Rev. J. J. Tayler and the Rev. J. Martineau were the min- 
 isters. Before very long, however, he found himself, from increasing deafness, 
 rarely able to follow the thread of a discourse from the pulpit. 
 
I860.] MORE DOORS CLOSED. 471 
 
 worth talked freely of the topics of the day, but seems to in- 
 terest himself in the legal matters that arise oat of his office 
 as Judge of Privy Council. I retired early to my room, where 
 I read till late, — in better spirits, perhaps, than health. 
 
 January 6th. — A quiet enjoyable day, spent in reading, 
 and in walking with Lord Cranworth about his beautiful 
 grounds. We took a drive in an open carriage between lun- 
 cheon and dinner. He showed me the advantageous points of 
 view. He is apparently a happy man, — happy in himself, 
 his wife, his prosperity, and the consciousness of owing his 
 elevation in rank to no unworthy yielding to authority. He 
 is a Liberal in religion and politics. 
 
 In the course of the day, I received a letter from young 
 Spence, announcing the death of his grandfather.^ Another 
 door closed to me. The family will probably leave. 
 
 February 17th. — A letter from Sarah (my niece), giving an 
 alarming account of a fresh attack my brother has had. The 
 medical man thought he could not rally. This, of course, 
 excited feelings, — not of grief at an issue that would be one 
 of mercy, but of anxiety, from a fear of my own inability to 
 discharge, as I ought, the duties imposed on me. I soon 
 learned that the event had occurred. At my niece's request, 
 Dr. Boott came to inform me that an hour after her letter was 
 w^ritten, my brother died calmly — as if asleep — in his chair. 
 I went out in the afternoon, but could not recollect the name 
 or the address of a carpenter on whom I intended to call on 
 a matter of business. I then walked on to Donne, who was 
 very kind and obliging. I needed his assistance, for, in the 
 morning, I suffered from giddiness, which was followed by 
 spectra, and during the walk the giddiness became violent.! 
 
 February 23d. — The funeral took place. It was at St. 
 Mary's Church, where there was a family vault, and special 
 permission was obtained to open it under the Cemetery Act, 
 
 * See ante, p. 140. 
 
 t It need hardly be said that this was the brother to whom were addressed 
 the greater number of II. C. R.'s letters in these volumes. The correspond- 
 ence between the brothers began early in life, and was carried on with fre- 
 quency and remarkable regularity up to this time. Indeed, so complete was 
 it, and so freely did they open their minds to each other, and so united were 
 they in brotherly sympathy, that the letters would of themselves, if they had 
 all been preserved, have furnished a full record of the two lives, not only in 
 regard to incidents, but also thought and feeling. H. C. R. wrote to his friend 
 Paynter : " When the news arrived, I was at the same time advised not to go 
 down to Bury immediately ; and, in consequence, I remained in London from 
 the 17th till the 20th with\nowledge of the event, but in such a state of stupid 
 dreaminess as to occasion mv sitting with my arms on my knees, doing noth' 
 ing, but feeling uncomfortable at the consciousness of doing nothing." 
 
472 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 for there was room for one body more. The vault is now full. 
 I feared I should not be able to stand during the performance 
 of that part of the service which is at the grave ; but Mr. 
 Smith,* whose attentions were most kind, had a chair placed 
 at the head of the gi'ave for my convenience. Mr. Richardson 
 read the service with great feeling, and in a sweet tone.f 
 
 August 9th. — My first call was on Mrs. Dyer, the widow of 
 George, who attained her ninety-ninth year on the 7th Decem- 
 ber. If cleanliness be next to godliness, it must be acknowl- 
 edged she is far off from being a good woman ; yet what 
 strength of constitution ! She was in an arm-chair. The 
 apartment at the top of Clifford's Inn small, and seemingly 
 full of inhabitants ; a child was playing about, — her great- 
 grandchild. It fell out of a window thirty-six feet from the 
 gTound, and was uninjured by the fall. She has her eyesight, 
 and, hearing me, guessed who I was. She spoke in warm 
 praise of Charles and Mary Lamb, and her present friends, 
 Mrs. De Morgan and Miss Travers, but there was nothing ser- 
 vile in her acknowledgments. She is a large woman still, t 
 was reminded of Wordsworth's " Matron of Jedborough."t 
 
 August 22d. — Leach § breakfasted with me, and we have 
 talked over our respective prospects. His, those of a young 
 man about to settle, with every prospect of happiness ; mine, 
 those of an old man, whose best hope is a quiet departure. 
 
 September 16th. — The Saturday Review has an article on 
 Sir James Stephen. One remark I could not but apply to 
 myself. The Review says that the quantity of literary labor 
 seems incompatible with his official duties. But " the inter- 
 vals of busy life are more favorable to effective study than 
 unbroken leisure. When there are many spare hours in the 
 
 * The medical attendant. 
 
 t There is a short account of Mr. Thomas Robinson in the Christian Re^ 
 former for May, 1860. 
 
 X George Dyer was Mrs Dyer's fourth husband. The third was a respect- 
 able solicitor, named Mather/who, besides a little money, left her a set or sets 
 of chambers in Clifford's Inn. opposite to those occupied by George Dyer. 
 One who knew much about her is doubtful whether she was ever laundress to 
 George Dyer, or even to any one else. From the opposite chambers she 
 observed the uncomfortable state in which he lived ; and this led her to ex- 
 press herself strongly to him about the necessit}^ of his having some one to take 
 care of him. He asked her if she would be the person. Her answer was, that 
 such an affair must not be undertaken without good advice, and especijilly 
 that of Mr. Frend. After much conference the marriage took place, gi^eatly 
 to Dyer's comfort and happiness. Mrs. Dyer was not so wholly illiterate as 
 H. C. R. imagined ; and, if her hopes for the better world did not'rest much at 
 last on that which was "next to godliness," she certainly wrought a striking 
 change in the personal appearance of her husband. 
 
 § Nephew of Sir J. Leach, Master of the Rolls. 
 
I860.] REV. P. LE BRETON'S DEATH. 473 
 
 most active official career, when the pursuit of knowledge is 
 practised as a recreation, the difficulty of concentrating the 
 attention and impressing the memory is reduced to the lowest 
 point." I never could concentrate my attention even on works 
 of speculation. 
 
 September 24th. — Went by train to Wimbledon, and then 
 took a cab to Miss Bayley's beautiful residence on Wimbledon 
 Common. I had a very agreeable evening of friendly chat. 
 Miss Bayley is infirm and walks with difficulty, but her mind 
 is in no respect weaker than it was. At ten o'clock she left 
 me to myself, and I had great pleasure in looking over her 
 books. I had read on my short journey Eckermann's Ge- 
 sprdche mit Goethe ; though the third part is not entitled to 
 so much respect as the first two, for he goes over the ground 
 a second time, and one does not see why what he relates in 
 this part was not related in the former narrative. Like the 
 school-boy who first devours the best cherries, he is content at 
 last with the worst. 
 
 September 25th. — The day was spent in talk on all subjects, 
 — political, literary, and personal. Miss Bayley is a woman of 
 excellent sense. She is enviably free from the weaknesses of 
 her sex. I regret much that I cannot profit more by her su- 
 perior understanding, and generous and kind nature, since her 
 living at so great a distance makes it not easy for me to see 
 her as often as I wish. Miss Bayley, I should remark, did not 
 attempt to keep up a constant talk, but we read from time to 
 time. 
 
 November 6th. — In the morning, Mr. Busk came to inform 
 me that his excellent father-in-law, the Rev. Philip Le Breton, 
 was dead. One of my great favorites. Few are now left. 
 There is gone in him a pious, consistent, and intelligent man.* 
 
 November 15th. — Saw Edwin Field, and talked over the 
 buying of drawings from the Denmans for the Flaxman Gal- 
 lery, — a matter in which he takes a strong interest. These 
 are agreeable subjects, and relieve me from the anno^^ance of 
 hunting among my papers. After dining, I called on the Tay- 
 lers, and on Dr. Boott. The evening I spent at home, looking 
 over my accounts, and mortified at the increasing sense of my 
 stupidity. I am comforted only by the kindness of my few 
 stanch friends. 
 
 * H. C. R. had been accustomed to meet Mr. Le Breton in connection with 
 University College, University Hall, and Dr. Williams's Library, and speaks 
 of him elsewhere as "a jewel of a man," " one of the good men I look up 
 to with reverence." 
 
47-i REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 December SOtli. — Rae came to me for the first time since 
 his marriage, and Dr. Boott brought with him Lover, the Irish 
 song-writer and noveUst, one of the most agreeable of his 
 countrymen. We had none of his songs, of course, but he 
 was free in his talk ; all his sentiments were of a generous, 
 philanthropic cast, and his humor saved his philanthropy from 
 becoming cant, and his warm-heartedness rendered his free 
 sentiments innocuous to the opposite party. I am anxious to 
 read his Irish Tales, when I have time to go beyond the Satur- 
 day Review, 
 
 1861. 
 
 Fehriiary 11th. — An interesting party at Mrs. Baynes's. 
 The Bishop of St. David's (Thirlwall), Thackeray the tiovelist, 
 Donne, Paget, an eminent surgeon, and Dalrymple, a great so- 
 licitor. Donne brought the news that Dr. Donaldson died on 
 Sunday evening. After his disease made its appearance, its 
 progress was rapid. His merit as a scholar will now be ac- 
 knowledged. He was a first-rate man, and very kind. When 
 he was urged to give up work, he told his adviser it would be 
 a sacrifice of £1,500 for six months. 
 
 I became acquainted with him in 1843. He was then head- 
 master of the Bury Grammar School, — a man of great learn- 
 ing and excellent colloquial abilities, whose freedom of opinion 
 and of speech exposed him to reproach. Provided he could 
 sign the Thirty-nine Articles, he maintained that he was fully 
 justified in interpreting them as he pleased. In this he did 
 but pursue the course suggested to the freshman in " Faust " 
 by Mephistopheles. In addition to ultra-liberal articles in re- 
 views, and an anonymous work, he wrote a Latin work on the 
 book of Jashar, whicli appeared in Berlin under his name. He 
 once said to me : " That man is no scholar who not only does 
 not know, but cannot prove philologically, that the first eleven 
 chapters of Genesis are as pure poetry as Homer or ^schylus. 
 Abraham is the first historical person in the Old Testament. 
 The Fall, the Flood, the Tower of Babel, &c., &c., are myth- 
 ical." Such was the effect of these views, and the rumors to 
 which they led, that he found it advisable to give up his head- 
 mastership and go to Cambridge, where he established himself 
 as a tutor, and was highly successful. Early in life he was 
 destined to the law, and became an articled clerk in London. 
 There he was attracted by the newly sprung up London Uni- 
 versity College, and attended a Greek class, in addition to his 
 
1S61.] H. C. R/S DINNER-PARTIES. 475 
 
 legal pursuits. He was so charmed with classical studies, that 
 he induced his ftither to consent to his going to Cambridge, 
 where he soon gained a Fellowship, and with remarkable rapid- 
 ity attained a high standing as a scholar. 
 
 May 9th. — I had a note from Sylvester Hunter, informing 
 me of the death of his father. I shall miss him. He was a 
 man of considerable learning and very remarkable character. 
 By birth, education, and profession a Dissenter ; but his opin- 
 ions and tastes were all strictly conservative, and' towards 
 the close of life he became the supporter of a religion of 
 authority. 
 
 May 2Sd, — At Miss Coutts's, to hear Fechter read " Ham- 
 let." I sat in a back room with Dr. Skey, &c., till a large 
 party came, when we all went into the great room. A lady 
 addressed me whom I did not at once recognize. It was 
 Lady Monteagie. We talked of departed friends, she with 
 feeling of Henry Taylor, &c. The reading from " Hamlet " 
 interestecj me less than the circumstances. A few passionate 
 passages were acted, as it were ; but I must see Fechter. 
 
 June Jfih. — William Wordsworth the third called, and 
 heartily glad Iwas to see him. ^He, the disciple of Jowett, is 
 going as professor to Bombay ! ! ! I honor the intelligent 
 activity of this young man, and think myself happy in being 
 his friend, though I may never see him again. 
 
 June 19th. — At my dinner-party to-day, we were placed as 
 follows : — 
 
 Rev. D. Coleridge. 
 Eev. J. J. Tayler. George Street. 
 
 H. C. R. Rev. F. Maurice. 
 
 Boxall. Richard Hutton. 
 
 Rev. James Martineau. 
 
 Edwin Field. 
 
 The conversation was lively, and there was only one who, by 
 talking more than others, was what Kant calls a tyrant in 
 table-talk.* 
 
 * In the later years of his life, H. C R. invited friends to Sunday-morning 
 breakfasts, and had occasional dinner-parties, which were remarkably suc- 
 cessful. The Diary has generally a little plan of the table, with the place 
 occupied by each ii^uest. Two or three of these will give the best idea of the 
 persons whom he liked to gather together at his table : — 
 
 The Host. 
 
 D. Coleridge. F. D. Maurice. 
 
 Plumptre. G. Lons^. 
 
 Beeslv. J. J. Tayler. 
 
 G. Street. ' J. Smale. 
 
 Cookson. 
 
476 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Cjiap. 26. 
 
 June 21st — Finished Tom Hughes's ^' Religio Laici," — an 
 endeavor to show that the religion of a layman does not require 
 the knowledge of a theologian. Why, then, if he entertain 
 scruples, should the layman repeat the metaphysical jargon of 
 theology 1 If the author would candidly say, ^' Le jeu ne vaut 
 pas la chandelle," that might do ; but why insist on it ? In fact, 
 Hughes does not ; and he censures the prosecutors of the Es- 
 sayists more than the writers themselves. 
 
 A ugusf 8th, — I called on John Taylor. He was alone. All 
 the appearance of sound bodily health, but with a sad loss of 
 memory, — not worse than I show, and supported with more 
 calmness and quiet. He is the eldest of the Norwich family. 
 One of our best men, in all respects. It was of this family 
 that Sydney Smith said, they reversed the ordinary saying, that 
 it takes nine tailors to make a man ^ 
 
 September 16th, — I waited in the New Road for a Brompton 
 
 Cookson. 
 
 H. C. R. De Morgan. 
 
 F. D. Maurice. J. J. Tayler. 
 
 Gooden. Worsley. 
 
 Martineau. E. W. j^ield. 
 Ely. 
 
 Cookson. 
 
 J. Martineau. James Stansfeld. 
 
 Richard Hutton. P. Martineau. 
 
 E. W. Field. J. J. Tayler. 
 
 De Morgan. D. Coleridge. 
 
 The Host. 
 
 There is among H. C. R.'s papers a little book in which are put down the 
 names of Die Eingeladenen (the invited), of the years 1859, 1861, and 1862. 
 In this list the name which occurs most frequently is that of his old Bury 
 friend, Mr. Donne, afterwards the Government Examiner of Plays, and resi- 
 dent in the neighborhood of London.! Other names, which occur frequently, 
 are those of H. C. R.'s executors (E. W. Field, and W. S. Cookson), J. J. 
 Tayler, "the best of clerical freethinkers," James Martineau, F. D. Maurice, 
 and E. Plumptre. The following names are included in the list, though less 
 frequentlv, some onlv once : T. Madge, Peter Martineau, Richard Martineau, 
 Worsley, "^Smale, W. 'Harness, G. Street, Boxall, Wren, Forbes (Erskine), Neu- 
 berg, James Stansfeld, M. P., W. A. Case, James Robinson, Dr. Wilkinson, 
 Russell Martineau, H. Amvot, W. Sharpe, H. Busk, James Bischoff, Dr. Car- 
 penter, .Tames Gooden. F. Ouvrv, T. Leach, Dr. Sieveking. — Sieveking, Sen., 
 Robert Procter, Walter Bngehot, George Scharf, Talfourd Ely, R. B. Aspland, 
 S. Hansard. This list, however, does not extend beyond the three years 
 named, 1859, 1861, and 1862. 
 
 * To this familv belonged other intimate friends of H. C. R., — Emily Tay- 
 lor, Mrs. John Martineau, and Mrs. Reeve. (See Vol. V p. 455, respecting 
 Edgar Taylor.) Till Mr. John Taylor's health failed, H. C. R. used frequently 
 to spend the evening with him, over a game of whist. 
 
 t Author of " Essays on the Drama," and Editor of the " Correspondence 
 of George III. with Lord North." 
 
1862.] PROFESSOR BEESLY. — F. NEWMAN. 477 
 
 omnibus, and ventured to mount outside, in spite of heavy 
 clouds ; but they blew off, and I did not sufifer for my rashness. 
 
 October 15th, — Accompanied Beesly to the University Hall. 
 The dinner (at the opening of the session) was numerously at- 
 tended. The Principal (Beesly) addressed the young men 
 simply and pleasingly. His really best character is that of a 
 teacher ; every one seems to like him. But he is extreme in 
 his opinions, and I fear this may interfere with his usefulness. 
 He is going to attend a meeting of bricklayers, and says they 
 conduct business better than scholars. I chatted with Mar- 
 tineau,Tayler, and Newman. Worsley accompanied me home. 
 
 November 10th, — It was not merely reading to-day, for I had 
 a long tdlk with Henry Busk. He was appointed to address 
 the Prince of Wales, and he accounted for it by relating a cir- 
 cumstance unknown to me. There is an old sinecure office, of 
 which I had never heard, given to Busk by Quayle, when 
 Treasurer. Referees sit on certain days to decide controversies 
 in the Temple. Anybody may, but no one does come ; and 
 £20 per annum has been held by Busk. Busk, however, did 
 not choose, as others do, to put the money in his pocket, but he 
 bought good American law books, and thus applied £ 600 to 
 augment the Temple Library. This rendered him a fit person 
 for the distinction conferred. 
 
 1862. 
 
 April Jfth, — A long chat with Newman in the Professors' 
 room. He repeated the best serious conundrum I ever heard, 
 — only too easy : " Why is it impossible to insure the life of 
 Napoleon the Third % — Because there is no making out his 
 policy." 
 
 July 18th. — Eeceived an " At home." ^' Ten o'clock." My 
 answer was : — 
 
 " At night's tenth hour, when all the young are gay, 
 Th' octogenarian's home is his lone couch." 
 
 August 5th, — Took tea with Dr. Boott. Professor Ranke 
 joined us. I was glad to hear of Savigny, and Bettina, and 
 Tieck, — all dead ! but they are objects of interest to me. 
 
 H. C. E. TO W. S. COOKSON. 
 
 September 18, 1862. 
 
 I was sorry that I had no opportunity of having a little 
 comfortable chat with you before I went down to Lulworth 
 
478 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 20. 
 
 Cove, in conformity with Edwin Field's proposal. He had 
 taken two beds for me at the hotel, and as I had managed to 
 supply myself with an abundance of books, and we had the 
 Times, I suffered no ennui. I took my dinner at the hotel 
 w^ith two sketchers, Mr. Tom Cobb, whom I found a very 
 agreeable man, and the Rev. Mr. Hansard, who carries his 
 liberality to the full extent of propriety. He is a scholar and 
 a gentleman. 
 
 Field has taken a small house close to the hotel, and, with 
 his daughters and one of his sons, has filled it. He is as 
 ardent in his sketching as in all his pursuits. We met nearly 
 as a matter of course to play whist at Field's in the evening, 
 and the latter of the two weeks brought Mrs. Field to us, so 
 that the time passed actively enough. I was not able to ac- 
 company the sketchers, but, aided by my Mercury,* I man- 
 aged to see all the famous spots in the immediate neighbor- 
 hood 
 
 How I envy all those who can work, — steadily work, which it 
 was never in my power to do ! Before the world my years are 
 a sufficient apology. They are not so to myself. I feel, how- 
 ever, as warm an interest in what is taking place as if I had a 
 troop of descendants who would profit by the great social re- 
 forms, or at least changes, which are now taking place in the 
 world 
 
 October 22d, — This day was in a great measure devoted to 
 Rydal James. I did not spend much time with him, but I 
 was regulated by him. He came early, and brought a friend, 
 whom he treated. Jackson accompanied them to the British 
 Museum, where they stayed three hours. They dined below, 
 and I sent James away contented with his London trip, where 
 he has seen more than I have. 
 
 December 17th, — Dined at Dr. Williams's Library. Our 
 meeting not numerous, but agreeable. I felt at my ease, and 
 from habit can repeat my old stories still with some effect. 
 And I now perceive why old men repeat their stories in com- 
 pany. It is absolutely necessary to their retaining their 
 station in society. When they originate nothing, they can 
 profit their juniors by recollections of the past. 
 
 December 31st. — The last year deserves a '' pereat " certain- 
 ly from me. I have been forced to take a man-servant to be 
 my constant companion out of doors. I am afraid to walk 
 
 * His man-servant, Jackson. 
 
1862.] ANECDOTES AND BONS MOTS. 479 
 
 alone in the London streets, lest I should be garroted, or lest 
 1 should fall. The evening was wearisome, for I was not in 
 spirits. All the civilized world in peril, and from wfiat is 
 called civilization, — the participation of all mankind in polit- 
 ical duties. 
 
 [Mr. Robinson left among his papers a little Book of Anec- 
 dotes, in which he had written : ''I need not recommend this 
 to the friends who will have the task of looking over my 
 papers. The personal anecdotes may be relied upon. The 
 had ones (there must be such) show the difference between 
 hearing and writing down." Many of these anecdotes have 
 already been given among the extracts from the Diaries, but 
 there are some remaining, and for these and two or three other 
 matters of interest no better place, perhaps, can be found than 
 the present.] 
 
 Dr. Burney was one evening with me at Mrs. Iremonger's, 
 and on Flaxman's leaving the room, Burney said, "He is a 
 man of very fine taste, but he has also a clear and sound un- 
 derstanding." The Doctor spoke wdth great warmth of affec- 
 tion of Dr. Johnson ; said he was the kindest creature in the 
 world when he thought he was loved and respected by others. 
 He would play the fool among friends, but he required def- 
 erence. It was necessary to ask questions and make no as- 
 sertion. If you said tw^o and two make four, he would say, 
 " How will you prove that, sir 1 " Dr. Burney seemed amiably 
 sensitive to every unfavorable remark on his old friend. 
 
 I w^as once in company with a wealthy patron of religion at 
 a dinner-party, at which Edward Iiwing was the principal 
 guest. Addressing himself to the great man in honor of w hom 
 the dinner was given, the gentleman said : " What a profound 
 and wise thought, sir, that was which I heard from Dr. Chal- 
 mers, — that God is more offended by the breach of a small 
 commandment than a great one ! " — ^' Do you suppose, sir," 
 replied Irving, " that Dr. Chalmers meant that it is a greater 
 offence in God's eyes to cut a finger than cut a throat ? " 
 
 Coleridge introduced Wordsw^orth early in life to his patron, 
 Mr. Wedgwood, and was annoyed by the tone in w^hich Mack- 
 intosh spoke of Wordsworth to the family, w^ith which Mack- 
 intosh was about to be connected. Mackintosh having inti- 
 mated his surprise at Coleridge's estimation of one so much 
 
480 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 26. 
 
 his inferior, Coleridge was indignant, and replied : " I do not 
 wonder that you should think Wordsworth a small man, — he 
 runs so far before us all, that he dwarfs himself in the distancer 
 — Kenyon. 
 
 How truly was it said by — I forget whom (said Kenyon to 
 me), " He who calls on me does me an honor ; he who does not 
 call on me does me a favor, ''^ 
 
 It has been truly said of Goethe, that he loved every kind 
 of excellence, and was without envy. He hated only inca- 
 pacity and Halhheit (halfness). Riemer's words deserve to be 
 copied : — 
 
 Sein Gedachtniss bleibt in Segen, 
 
 Wirket nah, und wirket fern ; ^ 
 
 Und sein Nahme strahlt ent^egen 
 
 Wie am Himmel Stern bei Stem. 
 
 Far and wide in blessing given, 
 Lives his memory, works his fame ; 
 And, like clustered stars of heaven, 
 Flash the letters of his name. 
 
 Goethe at one time upheld Wolfs idea, that the Homeric 
 poems, as they now stand, are a compilation. But he gav.e up 
 this idea late in life, and returned to the unity. 
 
 Coleridge denied to Goethe principle, and granted him the 
 merit of exquisite taste only. It requires great modification, 
 and great qualification, to render this just. There is a some- 
 thing of truth in such assertions, but they are more false than 
 true. The deep feeling of Goethe is nowhere more strikingly 
 expressed than in the third volume of the Correspondence with 
 Zelter, where he speaks of Hensel the painter. 
 
 Lamb rendered great service to Hone, the parodist, by sup- 
 plying him with articles for his " Every Day Book." Among 
 them were Lamb's selections from the Ancient Dramatists. 
 These were made at the British Museum, and were afterwards 
 collected and published in two small volumes. I sent this 
 selection from the Ancient Dramatists to Ludwig Tieck, who 
 said of them : " They are written out of my heart," -^ " Sie sind 
 aus meinem Herz geschriehenr The remark was made as well 
 of the criticism as of the text. 
 
 James Stephen said he recollected hearing Mr. Wilberforce 
 say : " We talk of the power of truth. I hope it has some 
 power , but / am shocked by the power of falsehood." 
 
 [The following interesting anecodotes have not been found 
 in H. C. R.'s papers, but were related by him to Mr. De Mor- 
 gan several times spontaneously, and once or twice at request. 
 
1863.] WORDSWORTH ON BYRON. 481 
 
 No note was made, as the hearer relied on there being record 
 in the Diary ; but the following may be trusted as very nearly 
 H. C. R.'s own words : " I was sitting with Charles Lamb 
 when Wordsworth came in, with fume in his countenance, and 
 the Edinburgh Review in his hand. ' I have no patience with 
 these Reviewers,' he said ; ' here is a young man, a lord, and a 
 minor, it appears, who has published a little volume of poems ; 
 and these fellows attack him, as if no one may write poetry un- 
 less he lives in a garret. The young man will do something, 
 if he goes on.' When I became acquainted with Lady Byron 
 I told her this story, and she said : * Ah ! if Byron had known 
 that, he would never have attacked W^ordsworth. He once 
 went out to dinner where Wordsworth was to be : when he 
 came home, I said, "Well, how did the young poet get on with 
 the old one ] " — " To tell you the truth," said he, '' I had but 
 one feeling from the beginning of the visit to the end, — 
 reverence I " ' "]* 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 [Of what remains of Mr. Robinson's life there is little to 
 record. He continued his Diary till within four or five days 
 of his death, but there are in it comparatively few observations 
 or facts of a kind to be added to this work. The Editor, how- 
 ever, has felt it to be right to give, not only those extracts 
 which tell the story of the end, but also passages the interest 
 of which consists simply in the mention of some of those 
 friends who contributed most to Mr. Robinson's happiness in 
 his last years.] 
 
 1863. 
 
 January ISth. — Miss Rankin read me a capital essay on 
 "Novelty," from the Spectator, praised by Johnson, and written 
 by Grove, a Dissenting minister. 
 
 * At least one living witness testifies to Lady BjTon having stated that Lord 
 Byron had a high respect for Wordsworth. Perhaps Lord Byron would have 
 said to Wordsworth, in the words of the Archangel to his own Satan, mutata 
 litera, — 
 
 " I ne'er mistook you for a personal foe, 
 Our difference is poetical." 
 
 Vision of Judgment, Stanza 62, 
 
 TCL. II. 21 EE 
 
482 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 April 16th. — Called on Emily Taylor, and with her and 
 Mrs. John Martineau had a pleasant chat. Miss E. Taylor 
 sent me a copy of her brother Edgar's genealogical book of the 
 Meadows family, — a valuable present.* 
 
 June 5th. — Looking over letters, I found one from Miss 
 Coutts, in which I read what I had not seen before, — a re- 
 quest that I would inform her in what way she should send 
 me the £100 she had promised to the hospital. This, of 
 course, I have never done. I would not dun the most gene- 
 rous, and delicately generous, person I know. On making this 
 singular discovery, what could I do but drive at once to Holly 
 Lodge *? As Miss Coutts was not at home, I left a letter of 
 apology. 
 
 July 1st. — This was a day to be recollected. The distribu- 
 tion of prizes took place at University College. The chair was 
 taken by Mr. Lowe, who seventeen years ago was a candidate 
 for the Professorship of Latin. The distribution of prizes was 
 very interesting, as usual ; and the address of Lowe very much 
 pleased me. It was calculated to have a salutary effect on the 
 students. What he said on the danger of an exclusive study 
 of demonstrative inferences seemed to me just. 
 
 July 10th. — To Stratford-on-Avon. In my earliest travel- 
 ling days I never was guilty of the folly of attempting to de- 
 scribe the places which I saw. Therefore I am free from one 
 reproach. I professed to write only about persons. In relat- 
 ing the few incidents of this journey, I may remark, by the by, 
 how much less apt I am to observe, and with how much less 
 pleasure all the occurrences of life — journeys, visits, &c. — 
 are accompanied. 
 
 On my arrival at Stratford, Mr . Flower was at the station 
 with his phaeton. I had a cordial reception from him 
 and Mrs. Flower. She is a very interesting woman, and 
 has personal dignity and ease in her manners. She is quite 
 aufait in the topics of conversation she chooses to touch, and 
 is well read in English literature. The house called ''The 
 Hill " is a picturesque building, and here Mr. Flower enjoys 
 the otium cum dignitate, though he is of too active a nature 
 ever to be unemployed. He has been a very useful public 
 character. I am attracted by his frankness ; he is by nature 
 
 * " The Suffolk Bartholomeans. A Memoir of the Ministerial and Domestic 
 History of John Meadows, Clerk, A. M., formerly of Christ's College, Cam- 
 bridge. Ejected under the Act of Uniformity from the Rectory of Ousden in 
 Suffolk. By the late Edgar Taylor, F. S. A.,' one of his descendants. With a 
 Preparatory Notice by his Sister." Pickering, 1840. 
 
1863.] LAST CONTINENTAL JOURNEY. 483 
 
 communicative and benevolent. As a politician he is a good 
 AVhig. 
 
 July 11th, — It is not necessary for me to distinguish one 
 day from another on this short visit, for nothing turns on 
 time. Jackson was shown much more of the Shakespeare 
 Memorabilia than 1 cared to see, having, in fact, gone the round 
 with Amyot many years ago. Besides, I do not feel about the 
 dwelling-house as Collier and others think I ought. To-day 
 came, on a visit to Mr. Flower, the well-known Joseph Parkes, 
 a political character. He and I are always on free and easy 
 terms. 
 
 Another day we had a drive to the " Welcome," an estate 
 belonging to Mark Philips. There is no house, excepting a 
 mere gardener's habitation, but there are some beautiful spots. 
 Mark Philips resides at Snitterfield, an adjoining estate. Mr. 
 Flower gave me an interesting account of his friend, who is an 
 eminently generous man ; his acts of munificence are princely, 
 and performed in the most unpretending way. The next day 
 Mr. and Mrs. Flower and I dined with Mark Philips ; a sister 
 of Mr. Philips was there, and two daughters of Robert Philips. 
 We had a handsome dinner, and stayed late. 
 
 On the 16th I left Stratford, with feelings of gratitude to- 
 wards my hospitable friend. We had had many interesting 
 topics of conversation. 
 
 [Between August 6th and September 9th of this year H. C. 
 R. made his last tour on the Continent, with Mr. Leonard 
 Field as his companion. It was a farewell visit, and as such 
 was interesting to him ; but he felt that he was too infirm for 
 travelling. His time was spent chiefly at Heidelberg. The 
 idea of visiting Frankfort was given up. It was a relief to 
 him when he reached Dover, where he remained three nights, 
 and enjoyed some drives with his " old friend, Edward Foss."] 
 
 September 30th. — Dined at the Athenaeum, and was compli- 
 mented on my good looks, but found my loss of memory of 
 a very alarming kind. Having dined, and my spectacle-case 
 being brought me, I took a nap in the drawing-room. Thought 
 it some room belonging to magistrates and quarter-sessions, 
 and took the book-racks at a distance for the court. Every- 
 thing seemed bigger and older. I at length was spoken to by 
 some one, and asked him where 1 was. This is worse than 
 anything that ever occurred. There is no doctoring for a case 
 like this ] nor can the patient minister to himself 
 
 October 1st. — Took a cab to the Miss Swanwicks', and, find- 
 
X 
 
 484 rf.miniscencp:s of henry crabb robinson. [Chap. 27. 
 
 ing them at home, remained to tea. An agreeable chat, main- 
 ly on poetry and poetical compilations.* 
 
 October 17th. — Dined with the Streets. Our amusement 
 was three-handed whist. Both Mr. and Mrs. Street very kind. 
 On every point of public interest he and I differ, but it does 
 not affect our apparent esteem for one another. I hold him 
 in very great respect, — indeed, admiration. He has first-rate 
 talent in his profession as architect. He will be a great man 
 in act, — he is so in character already. Beesly is equally firm, 
 and equally opposed to me. I like him too. 
 
 October 27th. — Went through Islington to Highbury; called 
 on the Madges, and as they were going also to Mr. Peter 
 Martineau's to dine, I dismissed my carriage and enjoyed 
 tny friends. Old feelings revived. A full party at Peter 
 Martineau's. I was in my old high spirits, as I am too apt 
 lo be. 
 
 November 8th. — I spent two hours at Worsley's. His elder 
 ion read me a speech of Napoleon the Third, on the state of 
 Europe. The public welfare is in every respect at stake just 
 aow, so that I am not ashamed of confining my reading al- 
 most exclusively to the public prints. Those of the religious 
 bodies are also interesting. The two together fully occupy my 
 mind. 
 
 James Dixon to H. C. R. 
 
 The Hollins, Grasmere, November, 1863. 
 Honored Sir, — I beg to acknowledge the receipt of a 
 Sovereign! which 1 have just received from Miss Hannah 
 Cookson as I understand you wished it to be given to me. I 
 have received it and return you many thanks for it, and for all 
 former presents of the same kind. My health has been very 
 good since I saw you in London. At the time I left London I 
 intended remaining at Rydal Mount through the Winter, but 
 when T arrived there I found a note for me from Mrs. Words- 
 worth of Carlisle, asking me to go to their house for 3 
 Months in the depth of Winter while they were in Brighton ; 
 ttiis I could not with reason refuse because I considered it a 
 duty I owed to Mr. and Mrs. Wordsworth to serve them as 
 
 * This is only one of frequent visits to these ladies, with whom he would 
 talk, not only of poetry, bnt also on Gennan literature, and especially on 
 Goethe. Miss Anna Swanwick is well known bj^ her translations from Goethe 
 and the Trilogy of iEschylus. 
 
 t An annual gift. 
 
1864.] MORE SHUTTERS CLOSED. 485 
 
 far as it was in my power.* Tho' Mrs. Hills had shown me a 
 good deal of kindness at Rydal Mount my gratitude felt stronger 
 to Mr. Wordsworth 
 
 I am now at the Hollins, Grasmere, with Miss Aglionby who 
 has been very kind to me. If all be well I shall stay at Gras- 
 mere through the winter ; the place is very good and very nice ; 
 but still it is not like my dear Rydal Mount. Mr. Carter has 
 been taken from us and I am the only one of the family left ; 
 but I pay many little visits to the family in the Churchyard at 
 Grasmere and there I often reflect on the many happy years 
 that I spent with them in life. 
 
 With my kindest regards and thanks 
 Believe me Dear Sir 
 
 Your ob* and humble Ser* 
 
 James Dixon. 
 
 December 25th. — Before one p. m. I walked out with Jack- 
 son. We passed the door of Dr. Boott. Every shutter was 
 closed. A sufficient indication that the awful event had taken 
 place, — he had closed his earthly career. I then went to my 
 niece's to dine. Our conversation was chiefly on the departed 
 friend, and kindred subjects. I could not enjoy what partook 
 of festivity. That was not expected of me, or needed. I was 
 again settled in my own room a little after nine. I have been 
 too dreamy in my habit to write at once. Dr. Boott's death 
 took place about noon.f I should have said that the morn- 
 ing's post brought me a very gratifying little token from Tor- 
 quay, — a pretty picture signed by Miss Burdett Coutts and 
 Mrs. Brown. As an evidence of friendly feeling it gave me 
 great pleasure. 
 
 December SOtJu — Called on the Esdailes. There is in the 
 old gentleman a something of bonhomie which pleases me. 
 
 1864. 
 
 February 6th. — Attended a meeting at University College. 
 The only interesting matter a letter from E. W. Field, ofier- 
 
 * After Wordsworth's death, James was hardly able to include among his 
 duties the care of the pony and carriage; but Mrs Wordsworth resolved 
 to give up the ponv and carriage, rather than part with the faithful servant. 
 
 t In a letter dated January 12, 1864, H. C. R. says to E. W. Field: "Dr. 
 Boott, you may have heard, is dead. He is a loss to me, for he was affec- 
 tionate^ and gave advice freely without requiring you to take it as a condition 
 of his giTing it. He was a near neighbor, and of great value." 
 
486 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 irg, on condition of a piece of ground being assigned to Uni- 
 versity Hall, that two sums of £500 should be contributed 
 towards the cost of a Racket Court.* 
 
 Februarij 16th. — The most remarkable occurrence of the 
 times is the position of the Broad Church. Nothing pleases 
 me so much as the letter by F. Maurice, in the Spectator, declar- 
 ing his approbation of the decision of the Privy Council Com- 
 mittee respecting the "Essays and Reviews." He seems to at- 
 tach gi-eat importance to the judgment, as establishing a free- 
 dom hitherto denied in the Church. 
 
 March 6th. — I did not get into bed till near one. I seldom 
 do. Yet I hardly know what I was about. 
 
 April 1st. — An ominous day in my life, as it has been a 
 day on which I have commenced many things, — such as my 
 journey to Germany, studying the law, &c. 
 
 April 5th. — A call from De Morgan, who informed me of 
 the resignation of Stansfeld, and declared his conviction that 
 this resignation will raise Stansfeld in public opinion. He will 
 return to his old office, or be in a better place very soon. The 
 attack has been of a kind which is sure to produce reaction. 
 Now, De Morgan is certainly no commonplace man. I have 
 since seen the Times, and I do not see how Stansfeld could 
 have done the act in a finer style. It is not by the result that 
 my opinion of him will be formed. Wrote a short note to him.f 
 
 May 25th. — Sent a letter to Sergeant Manning, about his 
 paper on the Danish war ; and then went to the Russell In- 
 stitution, from which William Wordsworth's call brought me. 
 He was content with my ordinary dinner, and I enjoyed his 
 friendly chat, all about family and personal matters. He 
 stayed the evening with me, and on his leaving, I went on 
 with the comedy of " Love's Labor 's Lost," which delights me. 
 I could not quit it. And now I must really abstain from 
 again looking into Shakespeare, when this is finished. It is 
 full of absurdities, and altogether the veriest unreal thing, yet 
 intermingled with exquisite beauties. It bears marks of 
 youthful genius. It is a joyous piece, full of genuine gayety. 
 
 * This Racket Court, which it was thought would provide for the students 
 of the Hall and the Colleo-e a healthful recreation, was an object of great 
 interest with H. C. R., who really contributed the two sums mentioned above 
 towards its construction, but insisted on the offer being anonymous. 
 
 t He is now the Right Honorable James Stansfeld, Third Lord of the 
 Treasury. The circumstances of the attack on him, for having allowed 
 Mazzini's letters to be directed to his residence, will be fresh in the reader's 
 recollection. 
 
1864.] PUTTING PAPERS IN ORDER. 487 
 
 One does not look here for serious truth of character, but 
 there are admirable sententious lessons of rhymed wisdom.* 
 
 August 26th. — (Hampstead.). My first day has passed off 
 pleasantly enough in this romantic rather than picturesque 
 village, for so it is, I believe. I have had the advantage of a 
 fine day, of which I availed myself to take two short walks. I 
 could not well say where, for this is to me what Ipswich is said 
 to be by the satirists, a street without names, as well as a river 
 without water. My acquaintances are few here just now. 
 
 August 27th. — The day was devoted to looking over old let- 
 ters, — a necessary task, and the sense of its being a duty al- 
 most its only inducement. Some of the old letters were soiir- 
 sweet ; but it was more painful than pleasant ruminating on 
 them. I dined with the Cooksons, and after that called on 
 Mrs. Field. All the children are in the West. Mr.. Cookson 
 goes aw^ay on Saturday. 
 
 September 10th. — I borrowed of Sharpe Voysey's Sermon, 
 which I read in bed in the morning. The sole importance of 
 the sentiment is that it comes from the preacher of the day. 
 A fit motto to any review of it would be, 
 
 *• The thing, we know, is neither rich ner rare, 
 But wonder how the devil it got there." 
 
 September 11th. — This day was almost devoted to Henry 
 Sharpe and family. He breakfasted with me alone, and as we 
 had many family matters to talk over, and other interesting 
 topics, — arising out of his formerly residing at Hamburg, — 
 four hours passed over our heads unperceived. And yet, so 
 little were we tired of each other, that I engaged to take tea 
 with them at six. In our talk about German friends, I found 
 Sharpe, in many respects, a better German than myself t 
 
 September 23d. — At the Athenaeum, I actually did (a rare 
 merit) what I had resolved to do, — sifted coarsely a bundle of 
 letters, from 1812 to 1820.$ I must devote my dying memory 
 to separating the wheat from the chaff. 
 
 September 28th. — A letter from Scharf, dated Blenheim. He 
 writes too flatteringly ; but it gratifies me to find that his 
 mother has been visiting the Pattissons, at Tunbridge. The 
 
 * In a week, H. C. R. writes: " I am incurable. In ppite of all my resolu- 
 tions, I have read three acts of ' Troilus and Cressida.' " His object in resolv- 
 ing not to be beguiled by Shakespeare was that he might devote his time to 
 putting his papers in order. 
 
 t During this visit of three weeks to Hampstead, H. C. R. spent most of his 
 evenings at Mr. H. Sharpe' s. 
 
 . I The siftinof of letters was a task which for some years H. C. R. had set 
 himself, and which at last was left very fer from completed. 
 
488 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 intimacy of two such families must be good. He tells me that 
 Jack, the admirable youth, goes to his mother and plays cards 
 with her, to relieve her solitude. This one reads with pleasure. 
 
 October 1st. — I came again to the old No. 30 Russell 
 Square.* There I found that Mrs. Ely had been advised to 
 go to Brighton for a week, and Jackson in vain tried to per- 
 suade me to follow her example. But I could take no pleas- 
 ure in change of scene, while I wanted time to complete my 
 work of paper-examining. Dined with Ely tete-a-tete. I 
 retired about eleven, and felt happy in my old room. I 
 thought it looked very comfortable. 
 
 October 15th, — I read a capital sermon, by Robertson, be- 
 fore I came down stairs, — " The Word and the World." 
 Bolder than anything I remember by him. Speaking of the 
 Ephesian letters, he says : " Here was one of those early at- 
 tempts, which in after ages became so successful, to amalga- 
 mate Christianity with the magical doctrines. Gnosticism was 
 the result in the East, Romanism in the West. The essence 
 of magic consists in this, — the belief that by some external 
 act, not connected with moral goodness, nor making a man 
 wiser or better, communication can be insured with the spirit- 
 ual world It matters not whether this be attempted 
 
 by Ephesian letters, amulets, .... or by sacraments, or 
 church ordinances, or priestly powers ; whatever professes 
 to bring God near to man, except by making man more 
 like to God, is of the same spirit of Antichrist!" There 
 are three men whose loss is to be especially lamented in 
 this critical age, — Robertson, Donaldson, and Buns^. W. 
 Wordsworth speaks of Robertson's sermons as " the most satis- 
 factory religious teaching which has been offered to this gen- 
 eration." 
 
 October SOth. — Heard that Miss Allen died on Tuesday. 
 This is one of those cases in which we may, with propriety, 
 speak of death as a mercy, t 
 
 * From this time H. C. R. and Mr. and Mrs. Talfourd Ely lived together. 
 He and his friends alike felt that he onght to be no longer so much alone as he 
 would necessarily be in apartments by himself. He, therefore, after looking 
 at several houses in the neighborhood, took the whole of the house m which 
 he had formerly had rooms, and it was arranged that one in whose education 
 and character "he had taken great interest, and who had warm feelings of 
 respect towards him, should live with him, so that in his last years he might 
 feel that he had a home. Mr. Ely was a grandson of H. C R.'s early friend, 
 John Towill Rutt, and had recently married a daughter of John Dawson, 
 Esq., of Berrymead Priory, Acton. 
 
 f An old friend of H. C R.'s. In 1861 she was too deaf to converse with 
 him, but, on his calling, she wished to see him, and said, " I am pleased to look 
 at you.** 
 
1«65.] DEATH OF A YOUNGER FRIEND. 489 
 
 November 7th. — A talk with Ely on College matters. I re- 
 tain my old opinion, that the institution will be, ultimately, a 
 valuable one to the country, though not as originally intended. 
 Ely considers Case one of the most valuable men. He has in- 
 troduced improvements in the Junior School. 
 
 November IJfth, — De Morgan called. He is the only man 
 whose calls, even when interruptions, are always acceptable. 
 He has such luminous qualities, even in his small-talk. 
 
 November 17th. — I must not forget an epigram I heard to- 
 day from D , in the form of an epitaph, — 
 
 " Beneath this stone lies Walter Savage Landor, 
 Who half an Eagle was, and half a Gander." 
 
 November 27th. — At three, Jackson took me to Kussell 
 Scott, a sensible man, with whom I have pleasure in talking. 
 He is a philanthropist, though in temperament not an enthu- 
 siast. He thinks favorably of the election of Lincoln for a 
 second Presidentship. On American matters he and I think 
 very much alike. 
 
 December 6th. — A call from De Morgan, who stated a fact 
 which has given quite a turn to my thoughts. He said: ^'You 
 have heard of the death of Jaffray %''*—" Which Jaffray '? '' 
 — " The member of our Council, — a young man. He was 
 my pupil." This is a sad blow to our hospital. He was very 
 generous and a young man of business talent. His death was 
 from erysipelas, which arose from what seemed a trifling acci- 
 dent. The greatest loss the College has sustained, among its 
 pupils, since that of W. S. Roscoe. 
 
 1865. 
 
 January 1st. — The last day of the past and the first of the 
 coming year have been in this respect duly spent, — that I 
 have made a sufficient use of my diminishing social advantages. 
 Conscious that I am gradually growing poorer in friends, I 
 have done my best to preserve what I have left. I have 
 merely read to-day the Spectator, — always a wise paper, in my 
 judgment. 
 
 January 2d. — A day dawdled away. I am an incurable 
 layer-waste of time. Wrote and sent off four letters ; one to 
 Mrs. Fisher, and of some length, in which I reported the state 
 
 * Mr. Arthur Jaffray left to the University College Hospital a legacy of 
 £2,000. 
 
 21* 
 
 L 
 
490 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 of my feelings as to the great question of human hfe, — more 
 cheerful as to my voluntary participation in it. 
 
 January 21st. — After dinner a very remarkable call was 
 announced. The name — Allsop — I did not at first recollect. 
 His name has been long forgotten by the public, — an extinct 
 volcano. Our acquaintance was never intimate. He was first 
 known as the generous friend of Coleridge and Lamb. He 
 knew Hazlitt, Leigh Hm:it, Alsager, and Southey. He was an 
 admirer of great men. After the death of the most famous of 
 these he went abroad, and I lost all sight of him, when he re- 
 appeared as the friend of Mazzini, &c. 
 
 Jamiary 2Sth, — Devoted two hours to the reading, and even 
 study, of a paper on ^^Cold, in its Influence on Age," according 
 to a law which Dr. Richardson has fully ascertained. At thirty, 
 when man at his full maturity ceases to grow, the efifect of cold 
 may be represented by one, 
 
 Aged 39 — 2, 
 48— 4, 
 57— 8, 
 66 — 16, 
 75 — 32. 
 
 In the strictness of a precise statement there seems some- 
 thing ridiculous in this ; but the tone of the M. D. is impres- 
 sive, and, loosely speaking, my personal experience would con- 
 firm it. I enjoyed cold when young ; now it indisposes me to 
 everything out of doors. 
 
 February 10th. — I was unable to rise early this morning, 
 feeling tired when Jacksbn called me. After Dr. Watts's model, 
 I craved " a little more sleep, and a little more slumber." 
 While I was turning over my papers, endeavoring to set them 
 straight, I was called away to see De Morgan and Dr. Procter. 
 At my late party, Mr. Tayler asked the former how he distin- 
 guished a wise from a good man. " A wise man," said the 
 Professor, " is one who does not trouble himself about matters 
 of speculation. A good man does not trouble other people." 
 This seems founded on Wordsworth's definition of a good 
 Churchman, as one who respects the institutions of his coun- 
 try, lives in conformity with their precepts, and does not 
 trouble other people about his opinions. 
 
 March 18th. — From Mr. Worsley I heard of President Lin- 
 coln's inaugural speech. It has fixed me more decidedly than 
 ever in favor of him personally. It is an earnest, honest 
 
1865.] PRESIDENT LINCOLN. — NINETIETH BIRTHDAY. 491 
 
 speech. As to slavery, he speaks both solemnly and wisely. 
 The sufferings of both North and South are just retributions. 
 No boasting. Those who have endeavored to do right first 
 will suffer the least. The abolition of slavery in the United 
 States is, it seems, on the point of being declared. 
 
 H. C. R. TO W. S. COOKSON. 
 
 March 19, 1865. 
 
 .... Nothing has brought me so near to being a partisan 
 of President Lincoln as his inaugural speech. How short and 
 how wise ! How true and how unaffected ! It must make 
 many converts. At least I should despair of any man who 
 needs to be converted. 
 
 Ajpril IJfth. — I forgot to mention that yesterday, after my 
 solitary dinner, I called on Mr. Wren, a man I much like. 
 Read this morning, in bed, Dr. Wilkinson's discourse on 
 *' Social Health." It has many striking thoughts. I copy one 
 sentence : "I do not contemplate increase of luxury, but 
 rather that all classes should cancel luxury in favor of lasting 
 comfort, health, happy action, and the sense that a constant 
 life of luxury — whether that of the rich or poor — isolates 
 and enselfs us." 
 
 April 26th. — For the present, everything is forgotten in the 
 assassination of President Lincoln, the intelligence of which 
 came to-day.* 
 
 May 13th. — My birthday. To-day I complete my ninetieth 
 year. When people hear of my age, they affect to doubt my 
 veracity, and call me a wonder. It is unusual, I believe, for 
 persons of this age to retain possession of their faculties, or so 
 much of them as 1 do. The Germans have an uncompliment- 
 ary saying : "• Weeds don't spoiL" 
 
 May 16th. — The one fact of the day, that wiU not easily be 
 forgotten, was the seeing the Marmor Homericum presented to 
 the College by Mr. Grote. It was called mosaic when Mr. 
 Grote asked permission to erect it. I am so ignorant on mat- 
 ters of fine art, that I must content myself with saying that 
 this is a new step in art, and far more pleasing than the old 
 mosaic. A very active and lively man explained the composi- 
 tion, in French, to some ladies. He was the artist himself. 
 Among those present was the Comte de Paris. 
 
 * H. C. R. was deeply affected by "this ruffianly attack on the noblest 
 person in America," and" ascribed it to " a spirit engendered by slavery." 
 
492 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 May 17th. — A very pleasant visit from Professor De Mor- 
 gan. He has given an excellent reason for believing that our 
 portrait of Harvey"^ is the genuine one, viz., that it has a glove 
 on the hand pointing to the heart. It seems that the glove 
 was his often-used illustration of his doctrine. 
 
 H. C. R. TO E. W. Field. 
 
 May 25, 1865. 
 
 Have you seen the Marmor Homericum % It is worth your 
 seeing at all events. I should like to know your opinion of it. 
 The Baron is, or was, attached to the Court of the Orleanists. 
 Mr. Grote had no better or other name for it than mosaic. 
 It is not mosaic, it is incised marble. The outlines are a 
 colored substance, which hardens in time. And all the dra- 
 pery and outlines are so expressed. This is its specialty. 
 What says your Foley to it '? Goethe would have encouraged 
 it, as he did all novelties. At the same time, he despised all 
 imputations of plagiarism, and all disputes about originality. 
 I remarked to Mr. Grote, the donor, that all works that are 
 offered to the world, with sufficient earnestness of purpose, may 
 be offered with assurance that, if their first object is not at- 
 tained, they will, indirectly, be of good service. Our College 
 cannot be said to have thriven but in its indirect consequences. 
 Without the dome, the Flaxman Gallery could not have ex- 
 isted. That gave consistency to the Graphic Society. Now 
 this new art has a local habitation, — not yet a name. The 
 Athenoeum speaks depreciatingly of Triquetti as compared with 
 
 Flaxman. That may or may not be true ; may think 
 
 meanly of him as a sculptor. That may be the true view. 
 What then ] He is what he is. 
 
 June 20th. — I had engaged the Rev. Harry Jones to bring 
 the Rev. Stopford Brooke to breakfast with me. Stopford 
 Brooke is about to publish a ^'Life of Robertson," of Brighton, 
 or rather his letters with a Memoir. I had several hours' very 
 agreeable chat with these gentlemen. I afterwards went to a 
 meeting of Dr. Williams's trustees, at which there was impor- 
 tant business to despatch. 
 
 June 2Sd. — The single noticeable event of the day was 
 going to the Olympic Theatre, to see the " Twelfth Night." 
 
 * That is the one belonging to University College, left to it at H. C. R.'s 
 suggestion by George Field (mentioned ante^ p. 346). It is a fine work df 
 art. 
 
1866.] "THE SEAR AND YELLOW LEAF." 493 
 
 I had resolved to see 07ie more play. And I have devoted a 
 part of the last two days to the study of that capital romance. 
 It was, perhaps, on accomit of the good execution of the parts 
 that I heard distinctly a great part of the piece. Both brother 
 and sister were played by one actress, Miss Kate Terry. She 
 was excellent in the duel. Wonder and fear are the affec- 
 tion she represents best. Sir Andrew Aguecheek, by Wigan, 
 was the best of the men. Miss Farren's clown, and Maria, by 
 Miss Foote, were both excellent. 
 
 August 15th, — Worsley informed me of the death of Rich- 
 ard Martineau, of Walsham-le- Willows, a universally honored 
 man and an able man of business ; a useful, I should rather say 
 a valuable, man. He, J. Needham, and Worsley, three excel- 
 lent men, united by blood, profession, and religion.* 
 
 September 19th. — Rose early, and half dressed, so as to sit 
 in the dining-room, saving time, and not fearing to catch cold, 
 though one must not be sure ; for a cold is as great a mystery 
 as orthodox or heretical doctrine. One knows not how it comes 
 or goes. 
 
 October 16th, — A home day. I intended to get rid of my 
 City engagements ; but I got no farther than the Russell In- 
 stitution. Indeed, I may say, though very unlike the original 
 sayer, through Shakespeare as an organ, that my days 
 
 " Are fallen into the sear and yellow leaf.'* 
 
 October SOth, — A letter to Dr. Sieveking brought him in 
 the afternoon. I told him of five petty complaints. 
 
 December 5th. — Walked with Jackson to that most amiable 
 man, Dr. Skey, travelling M. D. to Miss Burdett Coutts, and 
 in all respects a delightful man. He is two years older than I 
 am. I hope to be less infirm than he is, if I live to be as old 
 as he is; but he is wise and considerate. 
 
 1866. 
 
 January 15th. — It is strange, but I seldom look at the 
 Times now. I have lost the habit of reading it. I retain my 
 love for the Spectator, and find even the Pall Mall Gazette 
 
 * They were all partners in Whitbread's brewery. On one occasion, when 
 what Mr. R. Martineau regarded as an important motion in connection with 
 University Hall was defeated, he said quietly : '' I fear the Institution will not 
 
 frosper, but to prove that I am not one of tliose who will therefore abandon it, 
 will now subscribe twice as much." — H. C. R. 
 
494 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 readable. My fear is that I shall wear out my friends, though 
 I flatter myself that I am 
 
 '' On the brink of being born." 
 
 February 7th. — Drove to Procter's, alias Barry CornwalL 
 I had an interesting but short chat with him. He spoke with 
 deep interest of Lamb and Wordsworth, and with a mixed 
 feeling of Coleridge. Procter is an excellent man, whom 
 everybody loves. His wife was the daughter of Basil Mon- 
 tagu. 
 
 February ISth. — The commencement of a new clean vol- 
 ume * used formerly to be marked by my writing neatly and 
 correctly for a short time. Now I can do neither. The prob- 
 ability is that, being in my ninety-first year, I shall neyer 
 finish this volume. If alive, I shall not be able to do so. 
 
 February 17th. — The only thing I did, which had an ap- 
 pearance of work, w^as, that I spent several hours in reading 
 Robertson's " Life," an excellent collection of letters of the 
 genuine religious character. His piety undoubted, his liberal- 
 ity equally unquestionable. An admirable man. 
 
 March Sd. — Early in the forenoon Cookson and Field came 
 together, and brought, formally drawn up, the accounts of the 
 Flaxman and University Hall Fund, which we all three, be- 
 ing Trustees, signed, so that now the most rigid formalist 
 could find nothing to affect the validity of the transaction ; 
 and I trust it will be of some use to two establishments which 
 ought to be closely connected, f 
 
 March 11th. — Lest I entirely forget to do an act of becom- 
 ing politeness, let me mention that I received a letter from 
 Atkinson, stating that as I wished to be relieved from the du- 
 ties of Vice-President of the Senate, the Council had not sent 
 in my name among the three they send to the General Meet- 
 ing, and expressing regret at my retirement, &c. I have not 
 yet had courage to write an answer to either Mr. Atkinson, 
 the Secretary, or to Sir F. Goldsmid, the President, who also 
 wrote to me. 
 
 University College, London, Wednesday, March 7, 1866. 
 At a meeting of Professors for the choice of a President of 
 the Senate for the ensuing year, Professor De Morgan, Dean 
 of the Faculty of Arts and Laws, in the chair. On the mo- 
 
 * That is, of the Diary. In the new volume, H. C. R. wrote only 137 pages, 
 •r rather leaves. 
 
 t Vide Note at the end. 
 
1866.] MORE EXITS. 495 
 
 tion of Professor Seeley, seconded by Professor Sharpey : 
 Resolved unanimously, That the Professors learn with great 
 regret the retirement of Mr. H. Crabb Robinson. They beg 
 that their warmest thanks may be transmitted to him for his 
 continuance in the office of Vice-President up to an age far 
 beyond the usual life of man, and for the cordial courtesy 
 which they have always experienced from him, of which they 
 will ever retain pleasant and grateful remembrance. They 
 trust that even yet, active as his mind remains, years of life 
 worth enjoying are in store for him. 
 
 A. De Morgan, 
 
 Dean of the Faculty of Arts. 
 
 Chas. C. Atkinson, 
 
 Secretary to the Council and Senate. 
 
 April 1st — Went on reading "Alec Forbes,"* and devoted 
 to it a great part of the first half of the day. It is a capital 
 picture of Scotch manners. A letter came from Mrs. Bayne, 
 announcing, by Miss Sturch's desire, the death of Mrs. Reid, a 
 warm-hearted, generous woman, as Mrs. Bayne truly remarks.! 
 
 May 10th. — We had at dinner Mrs. Ely's father and mother, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Dawson ; and they all came down to tea and play 
 
 * By G. Macdonald. 
 
 t H. C, R. was a frequent visitor at the house of Mrs. Reid and Miss Starch, 
 for both of whom he expresses in various places in the Diary strong feelings 
 of regard. He continued to visit Miss Sturch till the time of his death. An 
 extract from a brief printed notice of Mrs. Reid, found among his papers, and 
 highly approved by him, mav be given here : — 
 
 " On Friday, the 30th of March, 1866, died in York Terrace, Regent's Park, 
 after an illness of some months, Elizabeth Jesser, relict of the late John 
 Reid, Esq., M. D., and second daughter of the late William Sturch, Esq , Sen , 
 well known to a former generation as an agreeable and ingenious writer, and 
 an enlightened friend of civil and religious liberty. But she should not be 
 allowed to pass away without some brief record of what she was and what 
 she has done. The history of her life is summed up in the history of her large- 
 hearted benevolence. Endowed by nature with an ardent and enthusiastic 
 temperament, she devoted the energies of her mind and the resources of her 
 fortune with an unswerving persistency of purpose to objects which involved 
 in her belief the redemption and ennoblement of her fellow-creatures. Her 
 sympathies were especially attracted towards those w^hom she regarded as 
 crushed by wicked institutions, or withheld by the laws and customs of society 
 from exercising their just influence in the world, and rising to the full dimen- 
 sions of their intellectual and moral capacity. It was under this feeling that 
 she early threw herself with characteristic ardor into the great question of 
 Negro Emancipation, which she lived to see crowned with an unhoped-for tri- 
 umph, and took up with not less zeal that of elevating the standard of female 
 education. She was one of the first, if not the first, to conceive the idea of a 
 Ladies' College; and the institution in Bedford Square, of which she was 
 really the foundress, owes no small share of the success which has attended it 
 to her ever-wakeful interest and fostering care." 
 
496 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 whist, which I enjoyed. I again experienced the benefit of whist 
 for elderly gentlemen. 
 
 May 11th. — A call from Mr. Stopford Brooke, and a very 
 agreeable one. I intimated, at first, that I did not desire an 
 eleemosynary acquaintance ; and I had the too great frankness 
 to confess that I did not wish to be acquainted with those who 
 merely tolerated me. He very kindly obviated all difficulty, so 
 far as he was concerned ; but I have the general impression that 
 sometimes Church Liberals take great credit for a very small 
 kindness, as if Unitarians were a sort of eleemosynary Chris- 
 tians, admitted to the title by especial favor. 
 
 June 11th. — I awoke early, as is now usual with me ; and I 
 was in a musing mood, ruminating in an old-fashioned way. 
 All my musings turned to self-reproach. Were I a man of 
 sensibility or acuteness, I know not what would become of me. 
 I could not endure myself 
 
 June 2Sd. — Dean Stanley delivered the prizes at the Uni- 
 versity College. There were present. Lord Brougham,* Lady 
 Augusta Stanley, the Dean's lady, Lord Belper, numerous 
 Professors, &c., &c. De Morgan, as Dean, spoke more than 
 Deans usually do, but he spoke with great effect. The Dean 
 drew a parallel between University College, Oxford, and Uni- 
 versity College, London, and paid a compliment to Grote for 
 his gift of the Marmor Homericum. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Mrs. Schunck. 
 
 London, 30th June, 1866, 30 Russell Square, W. 0. 
 
 I am sorry that I should have so long delayed answering 
 your very interesting letter. This was occasioned by your 
 mention of Mr. Benecke's "Alte Geschichte," which should 
 have been called " Familien-Geschichte." You excited my 
 curiosity. The book came, after a time 
 
 It is a singular circumstance, that my life, insignificant as 
 it has been, and my qualities, altogether inferior to those of 
 the Schunck-Mylius connection, have nevertheless had, on one 
 occasion, an important influence on the affairs of the family. 
 I had the satisfaction to know that that influence had been 
 exercised usefully and happily. I purpose, one of these days, 
 
 * The Editor well recollects seeins: Lord Brougham come into the College 
 Theatre on this occasion, and H. C. R. rise to help his Lordship to a chair, — 
 the tottering steps of the one supported by the other, hardly less feeble, — th© 
 •ne eighty-seven years old, the other ninety-one. 
 
1866.] ' THE GERMAN WAR. 497 
 
 to draw up a short nan-ative of my German life. It will be, 
 in the first place, connected w^ith Mrs. William Benecke's nar- 
 rative, which I have read with interest. The more, perhaps, 
 because I could connect with Mrs. William Benecke's history- 
 other facts within my own knowledge, and in which I was 
 an agent, w^hich would modify the consequences drawn from 
 those. 
 
 This I learned at the bar, — each party would frequently 
 have a good case, perfectly clear and satisfactory, when alone 
 considered ; and it is only when the balancing mind comes 
 that an adjustment takes place. There is so much inevitable 
 partiality in all men's judgments, as to occasion very erroneous 
 conclusions, with perfect integrity on the part of those who 
 err even the most. 
 
 July 5th. — Bead of the wonderful victories of Prussia in 
 the north of Germany. It is said the Northern States were 
 already conquered. The Diet, as another name for the Con- 
 federation, has no longer a sitting 1 The German Union is 
 dissolved. Before I had leisure to muse over this news, the 
 evening intelligence came that Austria offers Venice to France 
 as a retaining-fee for her advocacy in securing good terms 
 from Prussia. Buonaparte accepts the commission. Venice is 
 given up ; and Austria sets its Venetian army at liberty, if 
 Prussia refuse the armistice. If she do this, and is unreason- 
 able, France may back Austria. " Hang it ! " Russia may say, 
 **no ; this is not fair. If you back Austria, I back Prussia." 
 And the minor States, and Belgium, what will they do 1 All 
 this has been buzzing about my head. So the halcyon days 
 of P^ace are not actually come, though of course not far off ! 
 
 July 25th and 26th. — A visit to Mr. and Mrs. Dawson, at 
 Acton. The house was a priory. The grounds are twelve 
 acres, and there are many noble trees. During the day I had 
 two walks in the grounds, which at the back of the house are 
 very fine. Mr. J. J. Tayler and his daughter were there and 
 added to the pleasantness of the visit. I chatted with him 
 on the topics of the day. I stayed all night, and we had 
 whist in the evening. Next day, Mrs. Dawson took me homo 
 in the phaeton, and we had interesting conversation on the 
 way. 
 
 July 28th, — To-day I have felt really well, and I hope that 
 when the hour — the last hour — comes I shall not disgrace it. 
 
 August 1st to ISth. — The first two weeks of this month were 
 
498 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON.' [Chap. 27. 
 
 spent at Brighton, very pleasantly. I was the guest of Mrs. 
 Fisher, a very kind and considerate friend. There are few 
 persons with whom I talk so agreeably.* Sarah, with her 
 sister and nieces, were also at Brighton. During this visit I 
 had a letter from S. Sharpe, stating that James Martineau had 
 not been elected at the Council-meeting at University College, 
 but that no one else was elected, and he might be appointed 
 at a future meeting. Nous verro7is. Several days I did not 
 quit the house. The great victory of the Prussians over the 
 Austrians was the subject of general interest. 
 
 September Sd. — This was an Athenaeum day. Mr. Christie 
 spoke to me of the death of Sergeant Manning, my old friend, 
 who lived to a great age, as it is called, — eighty-seven. He 
 had far less physical power than I, but was far clearer in intel- 
 lect. I ought not, however, to speak of him in the same 
 sentence with myself. 
 
 September 19th. — I was gratified by a call from Sir Fred- 
 erick Pollock, late Chief Baron. I enjoyed his conversation, 
 and, provisionally, accepted an invitation to spend a day or 
 two at his house, at Hatton. 
 
 September 20th. — Took tea with Mrs. Street alone. We 
 talked on family matters. She is a kind friend. Her husband 
 has been working at his designs for a Thames-side hotel. The 
 Courts of Law are enough for a life. London is now not re- 
 forming morally, but re-forming architecturally. What a con- 
 temporaneous change, — the Law Courts removing to the 
 western boundary of the City, at Temple Bar ; the northern 
 valley of Holborn (Hollow-born) bridged over ; the City and 
 North Middlesex intersected by railroads, below and above ; the 
 Thames crossed in various places ! 
 
 H. C. E. TO W. S. COOKSON. 
 
 [No date.] 
 
 I envy you your journey to Manchester, on occasion of the 
 Social Science. But, indeed, I envy you almost everything. 
 I was there in the Great Exhibition year, and w^as at 
 Mr. Schunck's, an excellent man. His wife I have known 
 since my first arrival at what was the free city of Frankfort. 
 There I saw a fortified town besieged by the French, anno 
 1800 or 180L I witnessed the siege and capture in five 
 
 * During the latter years H. C. R. was a frequent visitor at Mrs. Fisher's 
 liotise in London, and entertained for her warm feelings of regard. 
 
1866.] VISIT TO HATTON. 499 
 
 minutes. There was no slaughter, or fear of it. At night I 
 disputed with a French captain, billeted in our house ; and I 
 did not fear being murdered, though I opposed his judgment 
 respecting Shakespeare. What events have passed since ! 
 I have heard that, at a late conference, the last conqueror of 
 Frankfort, a Prussian general, said to a principal municipal 
 officer : ^^ Do you not know, sir, that I could command my 
 troops to deliver over the city to be sacked and plundered ] " 
 — ^' Yes, sir, I know that the sad customs of war would justify 
 you in issuing the command ; but your soldiers are Prussians, 
 and I believe they would not obey you ! " 
 
 September 26th, — De Morgan with me again this morning. 
 Most agreeable. He is desirous of doing a great deal more 
 than I could have hoped any one would do for me. Not only 
 does he see that my sets of books are complete, but helps me 
 in a proper disposal of them.* 
 
 September 28tli. — (Hatton.) I did not quit the beautiful 
 grounds. Sir Frederick Pollock is a capital talker, and a kind 
 and generous man. What particularly interested me in the 
 place was a long walk of the precise length of the Great East- 
 ern ship. We played a rubber. But the great pleasure, after 
 all, was the free talk of the late Chief Baron ; an easy parody 
 of the "Bath Guide," — 
 
 " Sir Frederick and Crabb talked of Milton and Shakespeare." f 
 
 October 12th, — Went to Drury Lane Theatre, to see " King 
 John." I had little pleasure. The cause manifold : old age 
 and its consequents, — half-deafness, loss of memory, and dim- 
 ness of sight, — combined with the vast size of the theatre. I 
 had just read the glorious tragedy, or I should have under- 
 stood nothing. The scene with Hubert and Arthur was deeply 
 pathetic. The recollection of Mrs. Siddons as Constance is an 
 enjoyment in itself I remember one scene in partig^ilar, where, 
 throwing herself on the gi'ound, she calls herself ^'the Queen 
 of sorrow," and bids kings come and worship her ! On the 
 present occasion all the actors were alike to me. Not a single 
 face could T tiistinguish from another, though I was in the 
 front row of the orchestra stalls. The after-piece was ^' The 
 
 * This work extended over a considerable time, and the Diary mentions 
 many visits from Mr. De Morgan, to render his assistance. 
 
 t In a letter dated September 30, Sir Frederick sa_ys of these conversa- 
 tions : *' You are really a wonderful person. I think no other living person 
 could have (at your age) continued such discourses." 
 
500 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 Comedy of En^ors," and the two Dromios gave me pleasure. 
 On the whole, the greatest benefit I have derived from the 
 evening is that I seem to be reconciled to never going again. 
 
 October 28th. — At Worsley's in the evening, where I took tea. 
 Afterwards, w^hen music began, I proposed to Richard Worsley 
 to accompany me across the road to Mrs. John Martineau's, 
 where I wished to chat with Emily Taylor. Here I found, 
 unexpectedly, Mrs. Edgar Taylor, widow of the solicitor. I 
 was interested in renewing an old acquaintance. 
 
 October 31st. — The topic of the day was the Professorship 
 of Mental Philosophy and Logic, at University College. Nor 
 can I think of anything else till the meeting of the Council. 
 
 November 1st. — Samuel Sharpe called on me, and gave me 
 the assistance of his arm; so, going by the Hall, I got to 
 University College just as the chair was taken. The formal 
 business was soon despatched. The real business of the day 
 was the filling up of the Chair of Logic and Mental Philosophy. 
 The right of putting Martineau in nomination, notwithstanding 
 his non-election at the former meeting, was at once admitted. 
 I could not help speaking during this discussion, in answer to 
 the remark that the neutrality of the College would be vio- 
 lated if so able a leader of one religious sect were elected. T 
 endeavored to enforce the thought, but failed to do it with 
 ability, that neutrality ought not to mean indifference to friend 
 or foe.* It was at one time hoped that every sect would have 
 its particular college, and that thus there would be a number 
 of colleges clustering aroimd University College as their com- 
 mon centre. Only one came : and now a gentleman connected 
 with that one institution is to be rejected, though a man of 
 acknowledged ability, and, as such, the first to be recommended 
 by the Senate. [The meeting closed without filling up the 
 Chair, Mr. Martineau not having been elected.] 
 
 November IJfth. — Read Macdonald's ^' Annals of a Quiet 
 Neighborhoefd," " The Cofiin," &c. Macdonald exhibits great 
 power in this department of composition. But I get through 
 no work. That is my gTcat vice. My letters are in their 
 primitive disorder. I shall be a fatalist, unless I can get over 
 it soon. 
 
 * The favor shown to the principle of a neutrality of exclusion and not of 
 comprehension, led to the resignation of the eminent Professor of Mathematics, 
 De Morgan, and was a disappointment to many friends of the College, who 
 had hoped that professors would be selected 'from the most eminent men, 
 regardless of denomination, and not simply from those who either belong to no 
 religious body, or, belonging to a religious body, do not take a prominent 
 position in it. 
 
1866.] H. C. R.'S LAST SPEECH IN PUBLIC. 501 
 
 November 18th. — Had a tolerable party at breakfast, though 
 only one of my old Jmhitues present. These breakfasts, after 
 all, do not increase in their attractions. They begin to bore 
 me ; but everything tires in life. 
 
 December 8th. — To-day the decision was finally given (on 
 the election of Professor of Logic, at University College). And 
 I hope that I shall now be able to reconcile myself to what is 
 inevitable. I must not allow myself to waste too much time 
 in recording the incidents of this sad occmTence. I spoke 
 with more passion than propriety.* I was deeply mortified at 
 the result of the meeting, from a sense, not only of my own 
 weakness, but also that of my friends. 
 
 December 9th, — This was a day of melancholy brooding over 
 the defeat of the preceding day. Luckily, I had no one to 
 breakfast with me ; but I had an invite to Miss Sturch's lunch, 
 
 December 13th. — This is one of the dark days of one's ex- 
 istence ; to be so considered on account of a rapid seizure^ so 
 rapid that I could not manage to reach, in time, a place of 
 safety, within a few yards. Such a seizure gives a general sense 
 of insecurity, which takes away all pleasure in visiting, except- 
 ing old friends, to whom one may confess any and everything. 
 
 December 22d. — I had engaged to take luncheon with the 
 ladies of the Ladies' College, at 16 Mornington Road. With 
 them Misses Martin and Benson. With them I met the now 
 great publisher Macmillan, of Cambridge and London. He 
 spoke of me in connection with Julius Hare. After two hours' 
 chat, I cabbed it home. 
 
 H. C. R. TO W. S. COOKSON. 
 
 December 22, 1866. 
 .... I eLia now feeling old age. Till lately, I was only 
 talking about it. What I most feel is a loss of memory, and 
 an increasing defect of sight and hearing. 
 
 O) 
 
 Christmas day. — A fast day rather than a day of rejoicing 
 which the Christian narrative supposes. The house of Mrs. 
 Robinson, my niece, is the one at which I feel most at home. 
 I knew Jackson preferred being with his own relations, so I 
 
 * H. C. R.'s speech on this occasion was one of some length, and full of 
 vigor ; and he stood up to deliver it, instead of sitting as he might have done. 
 It was thought by some that this effort would prove injurious to him in his 
 feeble bodily state. This probably was the case ; but many things betokened 
 that his long life was drawing to a"^ close. 
 
502 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 took a cab alone. I spent a comfortable afternoon. The four 
 ladies and myself spent an agreeable and chatty time. 
 
 December 26th. — As the day before was, in form and name, 
 a festival, but little so in fact, so on this there was not the 
 usual consequent collapse. But it was a quiet day. I find 
 much reading in store, almost too much. I made small pro- 
 gress in setting my room right, — that is, putting papers in 
 order and arranging letters. 
 
 December 27th, — This was a day of calls, and at my age 
 these are of a melancholy kind. I am sensible of being no 
 longer a desirable companion.* But I do not complain of this 
 as a wrong. It is in the nature of things, and of course. 
 
 1867. 
 
 January 1st — This day Charles Lamb calls every man's 
 second birthday. And it is true. Yet this was to me as little 
 of a festival as Christmas was. 
 
 January Jfth. — In December, last year, I sent to purchase 
 the old Ipswich pocket-book, which, with scarcely an interrup- 
 tion, I have kept since the last century. I was told that the 
 publisher was dead, and the periodical has ceased. There was 
 something melancholy in this breaking up of the oldest custom 
 I was conscious of.f Answered two of the three black-edged 
 letters lying on my table, one to Cookson on his wife's death, 
 one to Harry Jones on his mother's. 
 
 H. C. R. TO Rev. Harry Jones. 
 
 30 Russell Square, W. G., 4th January, 1867. 
 
 You are much more to be envied for the recollection of such 
 a mother as you had, than pitied for the grief at her loss. 
 The one is alleviated by everything that brings her back to 
 your mind, — the other is imperishable. I speak from experi- 
 ence. I had an excellent mother, although she was unedu- 
 cated, and was not to be compared for a moment with yours 
 in intellectual attainments. She died at Bath of a cancer, 
 a/iino 1792, and her memory is as fresh as ever. I am not 
 
 * A sentiment in which his friends would have entirely differed from him. 
 
 t " The Suffolk, Norfolk, f>sex. and Cambridgeshire Gentleman's Pocket- 
 Book." In this pocket-book H. 0. R. jotted down memoranda for the Diary. 
 The entries are a mixture of German and English, and written partly in short- 
 hand, of which he habitually made considerable use. The pocket-books are 
 sixty-four in number. 
 
1867.] DIARY. — THE LAST ENTRY. 503 
 
 conscious of any habit or fixed thought at all respectable, 
 which I do not trace to her influence and suggestion. Petty 
 incidents, which had lain dormant for generations, / may say, 
 spring up in that mysterious thing, — the human mind. One 
 of these started up to-day. 
 
 When I was about twelve, I teased her to let me go to the 
 Bury Fair play, and see ^' Don Juan," which contained a view 
 of kelL She steadfastly refused. ^' No, my dear," she said ; 
 '' you shall 7iot go to see the ' Infidel Destroyed.' If it had 
 been to see the ' Infidel Reclaimed,' it would have given me 
 pleasure to let you go." 
 
 Things of this kind, however ordinary they may seem, and 
 indeed are, which stick by one for seventy years, cannot be in- 
 significant. 
 
 I should be ashamed to write in this style to persons in or- 
 dinary circumstances. I make no apology to you. 
 
 If you are living some thirty or forty years hence, you may 
 rely upon this, that one of the great enjoyments of your life 
 will be the talking about your mother, her words and ways. 
 
 During this severe weather I shall not leave the house, — or 
 my infirmities, which are many ; among these is my declining 
 memory, which makes me seldom trustworthy, and has played 
 me false towards you especially, of which I am really ashamed. 
 Warned by past misdoings, I dare make no promises for the 
 future. But I hope that I shall have the pleasure of a call at 
 your own leisure. 
 
 January Slst, — During the last two days I have read the 
 first essay on the qualifications of the present age for criticism. 
 The writer resists the exaggerated scorn of criticism, and main- 
 tains his point ably. A sense of creative power he declares 
 happiness to be, and Arnold maintains that genuine criticism 
 is. He thinks of Germany as he ought, and of Goethe with 
 high admiration. On this point I can possibly give him as- 
 sistance, which he will gladly — 
 
 But I feel incapable to go on. 
 
 This was the last entry in the Diary. The meaning is quite 
 clear, though the wording is somewhat confused. The names 
 of two men, who were most honored by Mr. Robinson, were 
 among the last words written by him. On Saturday, the 2d 
 of February, his illness assumed an alarming character. His 
 friend, Dr. Sieveking, was sent for, to do all that was possible to 
 human skill. But the strength of the patient was giving way 
 
504 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 beyond renewal. The illness was short, and not a painful one. 
 He dozed a considerable part of the day, but at times was able 
 to talk cheerfully and affectionately to friends, even so late as 
 the morning of the 5th, the day on which he died. Then 
 came the cloud of insensibility, in which he passed out of this 
 world. 
 
 The interment took place at the Highgate Cemetery. Many 
 friends, as well as the relatives, were present. The funeral 
 service was read by the friend whom, it was believed, he him- 
 self would have preferred, the Rev. J.' J. Tayler. The follow- 
 ing is the inscription on the tomb : — 
 
 BENEATH THIS STONE 
 LIES INTERRED THE BODY OF 
 
 HENRY CRABB ROBINSON, 
 
 Born May 15, 1775 ; Died Feb. 5, 1867. 
 
 friend and associate of 
 
 goethe and wordsworth, wieland 
 
 and coleridge, flaxman and blake, 
 
 clarkson and charles lamb; 
 
 he honored and loved the great 
 
 and noble in their thoughts 
 
 and characters ; 
 
 HIS WARMTH OF HEART AND 
 GENIAL SYMPATHY EMBRACED ALL 
 
 WHOM HE COULD SERVE, 
 
 ALL IN WHOM HE FOUND RESPONSE 
 
 TO HIS OWN HEALTHY TASTES 
 
 AND GENEROUS SENTIMENTS. 
 
 HIS RELIGION CORRESPONDED TO HIS LIFE ; 
 
 SEATED IN THE HEART, 
 
 IT FOUND EXPRESSION IN THE TRUEST 
 
 CHRISTIAN BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 Note. 
 
 Mr. Robinson, in the year 1858, placed, in the names of himself and two 
 gentlemen whom he had chosen to be his executors, the sum of £ 2,000, which 
 he designated " The Flaxmau Fund," and he at the same time transferred into 
 the same three names another sum of £2,000 (afterwards increased by him to 
 £3,000), which he called '• The University Hall Fund," and he executed a 
 deed by which he declared that his object had been to create two permanent 
 trust funds, which directly and (through other institutions more or less con- 
 nected therewith) indirectly might enlarge the sphere of utility, and at the 
 same time improve the character and advance the salutary influence of Uni- 
 versity College. 
 
 With regard to '' The'Flaxman Fund," Mr. Robinson declared his intention 
 and desire to be that the income should be applied, with the approbation of the 
 Council of University College, towards the preservation, custody, more con- 
 venient and complete exhibition to the public, and augmentation of the Flax- 
 man Gallery in University College ; and should there be at any time a surplus 
 
1867.] H C. ROBINSON'S ENDOWMENTS. 505 
 
 of income remaining unapplied for the purposes before mentioned, such sur- 
 plus might be applied in the decoration of the Flaxman Gallery, and in the 
 purchase of books, engravings, drawings, and works of art, which might ad- 
 vance the study of the fine arts in the College, and promote any of the sciences 
 connected therewith. 
 
 With regard to " The University Hall Fund," Mr. Robinson declared his in- 
 tention and desire to be that the income should be expended with the approba- 
 tion of the Council of University Hall, in rendering the abode of the Students 
 there more eligible, and in promoting their domestic comfort, rather than in 
 lessening the necessary costs and charges of such abode. 
 
 Mr. Robinson added, that if it should at any time be deemed expedient by 
 the Council of University Hall to unite more closely than at present their 
 institution with Manchester New College (which Mr. Robinson observed was 
 removed from Manchester to London, in order that the Students of that Col- 
 lege might enjoy the advantage of attending the educational classes in Univer- 
 sity College, and whose principal Professors and Students avail themselves of 
 University Hall for educational purposes), so that the two institutions might 
 be brought under one head and government, he declared it to be his intention 
 that his trustees should give their aid to any scheme of union of the two insti- 
 tutions, by applying " The University Hall Fund" to the Students of Man- 
 chester New College as well as those of University Hall, or to the Students of 
 any institution composed of or springing out of the union. 
 
 Mr. Robinson felt a strong reluctance to any publicity being given during his 
 life to these donations, and exacted a pledge from the two friends whom he 
 had associated with himself, that the trusts should not be disclosed by them 
 until after his death, and he therefore made provision that the income of both 
 funds should during ten years be accumulated for the permanent augmentation 
 of the funds. He, however, empowered the tnistees, on any special occasion 
 or emergency arising, to apply the income to any of the objects indicated by 
 him, and a considerable portion of the income was so applied in his lifetime ; 
 but means were used to avoid disclosure of the source from which the money 
 was derived. 
 
 After the death of Mr. Robinson, his two surviving friends and trustees 
 informed the Council of University College that it would give them sincere 
 pleasure, with the permission of the Council, to exercise a power confeiTed on 
 them by their venerable friend, of transferring "The Flaxman Fund" to the 
 College, in order that the trusts might thenceforward be executed by the 
 Council. They, however, felt it to be their duty to mention that, since the 
 trust-deed was executed, the Flaxman Gallery had been dealt with in a man- 
 ner which was not wholly satisfactory to their friend. He had expressed 
 doubt of the taste and judgment evinced in the decoration and coloring of the 
 Gallery ; and the painting of the backgrounds of some of the bas-reliefs a year 
 or two previously (which he was aware had been done without the permission 
 of the Council) was extremely displeasing to him. 
 
 The trustees went on to say : " Mr. Robinson had misgivings, how far any 
 public body like yours, the rnembers of which change from year to year, and 
 where the attendance at your meetings varies from day to day, could adminis- 
 ter satisfactorily a fund dedicated to objects such as he had in view, without 
 the aid of special artistic advice on all occasions w^here a knowledge of art was 
 required. During Mr. Robinson's life, Mr. Foley, R. A., was, by his desire, 
 consulted on every such occasion. 
 
 *' We feel, therefore, that it would have been very agreeable to Mr. Robin- 
 son, and we venture to hope that it may be to the Council, that some regula- 
 tion should be made to the eff'ect that the Gallery may not be in any way 
 interfered with, without the express sanction of the Council, or the Committee 
 of Management, and that previous to any important expenditure of the income, 
 or any operation of any kind on the works of art, the opinion and advice of 
 some eminent sculptor'should be from time to time obtained ; such opinion and 
 advice being for the consideration of the Council only, and of course by no 
 means to control it in the free execution of the trust." 
 
 VOL. II. 22 
 
506 REMINISCENCES OF HENRY CRABB ROBINSON. [Chap. 27. 
 
 The Council of University College cheerfully concurred in the views ex- 
 pressed by the trustees, and the fund was transferred by them to the College ; 
 and the Council have since made arrangements for opening the Gallery to the 
 public on Saturdays. . 
 
 Mr. Robinson empowered his trustees, if they should at any time deem it 
 expedient so to do, to alter the name of " The University Hall Fund," and 
 to give it any other name or designation they might consider preferable; 
 and since his death they have changed the name to " The Crabb Robinson 
 Fund." 
 
 Mr. Robinson's genial sympathy with young men in their amusements, and 
 in promoting healthy recreation, continued to the end of his life. A striking 
 instance of this kindly feeling occurred shortly before his death, in a gift of 
 nearly £ 1,000 towards the erection of a Racket Court for the Students of the 
 College and the Hall. In this case also, care was taken by him that the name 
 of the donor should not be disclosed. 
 
 Though Mr. Robinson noted most trivial things about^his own affairs in his 
 diaries, there is an important class of actions entirely without mention there. 
 He used often to say during the last year of his brother Thomas's life, and 
 when the latter was not in a state to make a new will, how much he desired to 
 survive his brother, for a reason which many might misconstme, viz. : that he 
 knew what his brother's will was, and that if he survived he should be his 
 residuary legatee; and that he desired to survive, because if he did, he could 
 deal with the large property which would come to him in the wav he knew his 
 brother would desire. Very shortly after his brother's death, he caused instru- 
 ments to be prepared, by which he at once made important deeds of gift, taking 
 immediate effect in possession to members of the family, &c. The particulars 
 it would be unbecoming to mention, but the suppression of the fact would be 
 equally unbecoming. In this way, he almost immediately dispossessed him- 
 self of what w^as really in itself, to one in his position, an important fortune. 
 His gifts to strangers and to public objects he confined to the surplus of his 
 own income, from his own savings. 
 
 In his will, Mr. Robinson left to special friends pecuniar}^ legacies (not for- 
 getting Rydal James) and those art treasures which he had himself loved. To 
 G. E. "Street, the copy, by Mrs. Aders, of the "Worship of the Lamb." To 
 E. W. Field, the pen-and-ink drawing, by Gotzenberger, of the characters in 
 *' Faust," the drawing of " A Cascade in Wales," by Palmer,* several engrav- 
 ings and casts, and the mould of the bust of Wieland. To W. S. Cookson, the 
 casts from Flaxman, Raphael, and Michael Angelo, and Flaxman's *' Mercury." 
 Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Bayne, Mrs. Fisher, Rev. J. J. Tayler, Miss Tayler, Miss 
 Swanwick, Miss Anna Swanwick, Henry Rutt, J. P. Collier, Jacob Pattisson, 
 were also recipients of specified articles of virtu. As has already been 
 mentioned in a note, Mr. Robinson had a great dislike to the thought of any- 
 thing being sold which had been his. In connection with the legacies to the 
 Wordsworth family, he mentioned as a " mere suggestion, without meaning to 
 raise a trust," that a portion of the money might be well invested in an edition 
 of the prose-writings of the great poet, if 'this justice to his memory and to the 
 public should not have already been rendered. The following bequests should 
 be stated in Mr. Robinson's own words (the will was in his own handwriting): 
 " I desire my executors to ofier to the Trustees of the National Portrait Gal- 
 lery, as gifts from me, my portrait, by Breda, of my late friend Thomas Clark- 
 son, the first great agitator Of the abolition of the slave-trade, and also my 
 Portrait, by Fisher, of Walter Savage Landor, poet and genial prose-writer, 
 [aving, at Weimar, in 1829, been requested bv the poet Goethe to provide for 
 the return to Weimar of my marble bust of Wieland, by Schadow, I now, in 
 discharge of the promise I then made him, give the same to the Grand Duke 
 of Weimar, for the time being, in trust, that he will cause the same to be 
 placed in the public library there." 
 
 Mr. Robinson's library was for the most part distributed among his friends 
 
 * The friend of Blake. 
 
1867.] FRESCO MEMORIAL TO H. C. R. 507 
 
 after his death. In many instances the selection of books for particular friands 
 was found to have been 'indicated by himself. A like disposition was made 
 of such of his pictures and other works of art as he had not specified in his 
 will. 
 
 In addition to the bust by Ewing, already mentioned, there is a bust made 
 for Miss Coutts, by Adanas, after Mr. Robinson's death. There are also two 
 excellent photographs, by Maull and Polyblank, taken late in life, one of 
 which has been made use of for the engraving at the beginning of these 
 volumes. 
 
 At the Anniversary Meeting of the Society of Antiquaries of London, 
 April 30, 1867, the Address of the President, the Right Honorable Earl 
 Stanhope, contains the following reference : " ^Mr. Henry Crabb Robinson was 
 elected a Fellow of this Society in 1829, and in 1833 he laid before us a 
 ^Memoir on ' The Etymology of the Mass,^ which was subsequently published 
 in the thirty-sixth volume of the ' Archasologia.' The object of this Memoir 
 is to refute the generally received opinion that the word 'mass' in the 
 Roman Catholic Church is derived from the words lie missa est, and to 
 identify it with the mas which terminates our word Christmas, and is found as 
 an adjunct in the names of other ecclesiastical feasts. On the merits of this 
 etymology I shall not offer an opinion. No one, however, can read ]\Ir. 
 Robinson's Memoir, without being impressed with the writer's depth of re- 
 search and felicity of expression. This Memoir, together with a pamphlet 
 published in 1840,' in reply to some misrepresentation about his friend Mr. 
 Clarkson, constitute everything, as I believe,* that Mr. Robinson ever pub- 
 lished. But his life, which extended to the venerable age of ninety-one, was, 
 throughout its course, dignified and graced by his familiar intercourse with 
 several of those among his contemporaries who have been most eminent for 
 their genius and renown." 
 
 A considerable number of Mr. Robinson's surviving friends have arranged 
 to erect a memorial to him in University Hall, Gordon Square, of which he 
 was one of the most active founders, and which he had in his lifetime largely 
 endowed. It is intended to put up the arms of Mr. Robinson and his brother 
 in the centre compartments of the bay-window of the Dining Hall, and to 
 prepare by colored borders or otherwise, all the windows of the room for 
 receiving the arms of other founders; and as the chief memorial, and prin- 
 cipal application of the funds, it is intended to decorate the ends and sides of 
 the room, which are well suited for the purpose, with a Mural Painting, in 
 monochrome, by Edward Armitage, Esq., A. R. A., having for its subject 
 Henry Crabb Robinson, surrounded by many of his most distinguished literary 
 and artistic friends. The aim will be to represent these distinguished persons 
 rather as they may have been graven on Mr. Robinson's memory, and have 
 presented themselves to him in his happiest reveries, than with reference to 
 any chronological or local arrangement. 
 
 * In his own name. Various other works by H. C. R. haye been referred 
 to in these volumes. — Ed. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 [The Editor has much pleasure in being able to add the following 
 Recollections by Mr. De Morgan, late Professor of Mathematics in 
 University College, London. He was one of Mr. Robinson's most 
 intimate acquaintance during his later years, and a very highly 
 valued friend.] 
 
 In University College Crabb Robinson, a member of the Council, 
 was in heart and feeling a Professor. He was a connecting link 
 between the Managing Council and the Professorial Senate, of 
 which last he was a Vice-President for a great many years together. 
 His German associations always put a college before his mind as 
 a band of teachers and pupils^ and all other parts of the organiza- 
 tion as only supplementary. He was more the companion of the 
 Professors than any of the political and commercial members of the 
 Council ; naturally enough, for there was no gulf between his pur- 
 suits and theirs. 
 
 The use of a person of this kind in a metropolitan college can 
 hardly be overstated. In such a place, and in our time, there is no 
 class except the teachers who know, as a body, what the wants of 
 instruction are. A worthy mercantile man or public officer, hearty 
 in the cause because he knows it is a good cause, is often singularly 
 unfit to form a judgment on what comes before him. For instance, 
 he fancies every book — except a dictionary — is a thing to read. 
 and has no idea of the wants of reference. Such a one said, on a 
 proposal to -get some books for the use of the Professors. " I think 
 the Professors ought to get the books they want for themselves." 
 That is, the Professor of Greek, for instance, should have all the 
 text^, all the dictionaries of research, all the works on philology, all 
 the historical and philosophical discussions, money to buy them, and 
 rooms to hold them. The idea of the worthy objector was that the 
 Professor wanted no books except the three or four which lay on 
 the table in his class-room. A man like H. C. R. is wanted in 
 every management of a metropolitan college, to give the only thing 
 which may be lacking in the minds of some of the members, namely, 
 what a college is. A school ought to he a place in which a teacher 
 has the means of teaching himself, but a college miLst he such a 
 place, or it is no college at aJl. 
 
510 APPENDIX. 
 
 As a master of the art of conversation, — that is, of power of 
 conversation without art, — H. C. R. was a man of few rivals. He 
 could take up the part of his friend Coleridge, whom Madame de 
 Stael described to him as tremendous at monologue but incapable 
 of dialogue. If any one chose to be a listener only, H. C. R. was 
 his man; he had always enough for two, and a bit over. And he 
 appreciated a hsteiaer^ and considered the faculty as positive, not 
 negative, virtue. But this did not mean that he cared little whether 
 he was talking to a man or a post, and only wanted something 
 which either had no tongue to answer, or would riot use it. Cole- 
 ridge, or some one like him, is said to have held a friend by the 
 button until the despairing listener cut it away, and finished his 
 walk. On his way back he found his talking friend, holding up the 
 button in his hand, and still in the middle of his discourse. This 
 would not have happened to H. C. R., who took note of his auditor. 
 
 " I consider ," he said, " as one of the most sensible young men 
 
 I ever knew." — ^' Why ! he hardly ^ays anything." — '' Ah ! but I 
 do not judge him by what he says, but by how he listens." Rut 
 H. C. R. could and did converse. When he paused — and he did 
 pause — there was room for answer, and the answer suggested the 
 rejoinder. What you said lighted up some consequence, no matter 
 what he had been just saying. To use the whist phrase, he followed 
 his partner's lead. This is true conversation : the class of persons 
 who begin again with, '^ Allow me to finish what I was saying," do 
 not converse; they only expound, treat, dissert, &c. And no man 
 alive knows to which class he himself belongs : and no man misses 
 the difference in others. It should be remembered that conversa- 
 tion is to be distinguished from argument : there may, indeed, be 
 conversational arguments, but there are no argumentative conversa- 
 tions. H. C. R. was one of those who keep alive the knowledge 
 that there is such a thing as conversation, and what it is. In our 
 day, what between the feuds of religion, politics, and social prob- 
 lems, and the writers who think that issuing a book is giving 
 hostages to society never to be natural again, conversation is almost 
 abandoned to children. 
 
 No person can converse without power of language, love of talk- 
 ing, and love of listening. The two first are necessary to the 
 talker, the proser, and the disputant; the addition of the third is 
 essential to the converser. Let him also be able to forget himself in 
 his subject, and his character is made ; he can converse on what he 
 knows. 
 
 The elements of conversational power in H. C. R. were a quick 
 and witty grasp of meaning, a wide knowledge of letters and of 
 men of letters, a sufficient, but not too exacting, perception of the 
 relevant, and an extraordinary power of memory. His early edu- 
 cation was not of a very high order of the classical, nor did his 
 tastes induce him to cultivate ancient literature : in truth, his Ger- 
 man and Italian opportunities used up his love of letters, which was 
 very decided. He was fond of the drama, and of ballad composi- 
 
 / 
 
APPENDIX. 611 
 
 tions. For his profession, the law, he had more turn than taste. 
 With his memory, he got ample knowledge for a practitioner 
 cheaper than most; and his mind was able to form and argue dis- 
 tinctions. So he was a successful barrister : he made the law a good 
 horse, but never a hobby. 
 
 His intercourse with the school of Coleridge, Wordsworth, 
 Southey, Charles Lamb, &c., and with the G-erman school, from 
 Groethe and Schiller downwards, to say nothing of others, gave him 
 a wide range of anecdote and of comparison. By the time he died 
 the tablet of his memory had more than sixty years of literary 
 recollections painted upon it ; and painted with singular clearness. 
 He had a comical habit of self-depreciation, which, though jocose in 
 expression, took its rise in a real feeling that his life had been thrown 
 away. It had, in fact, been of a miscellaneous character, and, save 
 only in his legal career, had nothing to which a common and under- 
 stood name could be attached. Accordingly it was, " I speak to 
 you with the respect with which a person like myself ought to 
 speak to a great ." Here insert scholar, mathematician, physi- 
 cian, &c., as the case might be. Or, perhaps, " I am nothing, and 
 never was anything, not even a lawyer." Sometimes, '' Do not run 
 away with the idea that I know that or anything else." But the 
 climax was reached when, after giving an account of something 
 which involved a chain of anecdotes, running back with singular 
 connection and clearness through two generations, he came at last 
 to a loss about some name. It would then be, " You see that my 
 memory is quite gone ; though that is an absurd way of talking, 
 for I never had any." 
 
 His memory was very self-consistent. Those who watched his 
 conversation would find that, though at different times the same 
 anecdote would occur in very different illustrative duties, it was al- 
 ways the same. And this continued to the very last. He died on 
 Tuesday, February 5, 1867 ; and up to the preceding Saturday his 
 conversation and his memory continued in vigor. On the morning 
 of the Saturday the writer was with him, and saw no change until 
 after his luncheon, when he appeared somewhat lethargic. His 
 medical attendant was summoned, and it was soon found that the 
 end had begun. 
 
 He was, like most vigorous old men, apt to task his strength too 
 much. A few weeks before his death he insisted on going out, at- 
 tended by his usual servant, in very bitter weather. This was im- 
 prudent ; but no one can undertake to say that it accelerated his 
 end. Much more force of suspicion attaches to a bad habit of many 
 years, — too long protraction of the interval between meals : a 
 thing many old men will do because they have always done it, for- 
 getting that they were not always on the wrong side of threescore 
 and ten. At eighty-eight years of age he used to take nothing but 
 a biscuit and a glass of wine — a sort of luncheon often forgotten — 
 between a ten-o'clock breakfast and a six-o'clock dinner. At the 
 remonstrance of the writer, and probably of other persons, he put a 
 
512 APPENDIX. 
 
 more nourishing luncheon into the interval, and found the benefit 
 of it. But it may be suspected that his system was weakened by 
 this abstinence; though it is not necessary to prove a cause of 
 death when fourscore and ten is past. 
 
 He was eighty when he began to have that suspicion of personal 
 attentions being a tribute to increasing years Jivhich susceptible men 
 take up at sixty. He had completed the extra score when the 
 writer proposed to help him on with his great-coat after a dinner. 
 Waving him off, he said, '' I look upon every man who offers to 
 help me with my coat as my deadly enemy." — " Do you mean that 
 a true joke is no joke ? " — '' That 's just it." 
 
 The writer never had his full idea of the great bulk of the stock, 
 and of the ready manner in which it was disposed for use, until the 
 summer preceding the death of H. C. E., whom he then assisted in 
 rearranging books, and advising in the disposition of some part of 
 the library. H. C. E.'s share in the matter was to sit in his chair 
 and tell a story about every book — or at least about four out of 
 five — as it was named. It might be about the author, or the con- 
 tents, or the former possessor, or some incident of the particular 
 copy ; but whatever it was, there it was, and out it came. Tum- 
 bling on each other's heels, these stories drove one another out of 
 memory ; but the writer was forcibly and repeatedly reminded of a 
 story told him by a Fellow of Trinity College, more than forty 
 years ago, about an old Senior Fellow of the same College, then 
 alive. The suggestion sprang up on hearing accounts of book after 
 book Avhich H. C. R. had quite forgotten that he possessed, and 
 had not thought of for a hfetime. 
 
 Mr. , the senior in question, had in his youth busied him- 
 self with the arrangement of the Cambridge library, to which he 
 had attended until his mind suffered, and he was for some time 
 under medical care, it seems that a faculty of exceeding keenness 
 had been dangerously overwrought. A great many years after — 
 those years having been passed in little more than a sluggish animal 
 life, almost entirely without reading — a friend who met him in the 
 
 street said, '' Mr. , I have been all the morning in the library, 
 
 looking for a tract," &c., &c., naming an obscure writing of the time 
 of Charles I. '' I know where it is," said, . '^ G-o to com- 
 partment E, shelf 12," or whatever it was ; " but you must take 
 care, for there are two copies, side by side, and the}^ differ in con- 
 tents, — one has no writing, and the other has the initials, S. T." — 
 " Bless me ! " said the other, *' how strange that you should have 
 been afler the very book ! " — ^^ I after the book ? " was the answer ; 
 " I have not seen nor heard of it for forty years ! " 
 
 At the first hearing of this story, which the common friend told 
 of one Fellow of Trinity to another, from whom the writer received 
 it, he naturally suspected exagsferation, though his authority was 
 very good. When he heard H. C. R. throw out circumstances as 
 minute about books as long unseen, at the age of ninety-one and a 
 quarter, he began to think his scepticism had been out of placoi 
 
APPENDIX. 513 
 
 The story of the man of seventy, or thereabouts, is not one whit 
 more exceptional than that of H. C. E,. The writer hardly knows 
 which of his stories is wanted to confirm the other. He will there- 
 fore add that his scepticism would have been much greater if it had 
 
 not been for another anecdote of Mr. , told him by the same 
 
 colleague, as having taking place in his own presence. As follows : 
 
 Dr. Parr dined at Trinity College. Mr. , when he heard 
 
 who was present, obtained an introduction, placed himself next the 
 
 Doctor, and roused himself to talk on literature. When Mr. , 
 
 as was his custom, got up to go to his own rooms [N. B. — There 
 
 was only port in the common room, and Mr. thought his 
 
 case required a little brandyj, he took Dr. Parr by the hand and 
 said, " Sir ! I am glad to have met you, and I will take my leave 
 with a few words which may not be strange to your ears." He 
 then quoted more than an octavo page — during which Parr showed 
 increasing astonishment — and walked off. When he was gone, 
 Parr said : ^' Well, gentlemen ! I must have heard that to have 
 believed it. That quotation is from a review which I wrote when I 
 was a very young man, and quite unknown. I could not have sup- 
 posed a soul alive would now have known I had written such a 
 
 thing, and I do believe that Mr. has quoted it word for 
 
 word." 
 
 H. C. K had also a remarkable power of close verbal quotation, 
 orally given. The writer has verified this by books, and judges that 
 the memory was equally good at repeating conversations. He also 
 noticed that an anecdote, containing a retort or a hon-mot, was 
 always given in the same words. There are men who are strong in 
 recollection of the substance of what was said, but who synony- 
 mize, not merely words, but idioms and proverbs. You end with, 
 " It was six of one and half a dozen of the other," and are reported 
 as pronouncing, '' It was all of a piece." You say, " He will come 
 to the gallows," and '' He will die in his shoes " is carried away. 
 Of such paronomasia H. C. R. was incapable. 
 
 Such powers of memory do exist, and it may be suspected that, 
 when they exist, they often determine the bent towards conversa- 
 tion, rather than writing. We may almost think, whimsical as it 
 may appear, that the slowness of writing would be an insufferable 
 bore to a person who combined so rapidly, and remembered so fully. 
 H. C. R. should have been a shorthand writer, and should have had 
 a transcriber at his service. But so far from having this quality, his 
 ordinary handwriting was slow and deliberate : it continued full- 
 formed and legible to the last. This appears in the letter written 
 to the Secretary of University College, on his retirement from the 
 Senate. 
 
 The depreciation of himself shows that the habit was not 
 merely a joke, but that the feeling interfered on grave and even 
 saddening occasions. It should be remembered, that for nearly 
 thirty years he had, with his sound judgment and genial feeling, 
 taken a most intimate part in the management. And yet he 
 22* 
 
514 APPENDIX. 
 
 seems to remember nothing but the advantage — not small — 
 which had been derived from his hving near the College, "and 
 being obtainable for a quorum at any notice, and with most cheer- 
 ful acquiescence. 
 
 Those who have breakfasted and dined with H. C. K. will find it 
 impossible to describe the charm of those social meetings. We 
 have heard of a difficult host, whose parties were celebrated for 
 unrestrained association, which was accounted for by a saturnine 
 guest as follows : " 0, any two persons who can get on with him 
 are sure to be able to get on with one another ! " In this case, 
 however, assimilation was powerfully aided by the genial good- 
 humor of the host, and effectually prepared by his choice of asso- 
 ciates. For there was nothing like general society at his table ; the 
 guests were a cluster of persons whose minds had affinities with his 
 own. We all know that an English convivial meeting will, about 
 as often as not, have its barricades erected by one set and another 
 against those of the wrong set. It is not quite the majority of 
 cases in which all the guests unfeignedly believe in the power of the 
 host to choose the proper collection. But at the house of H. C. R. 
 (that all who frequented it knew the secret is more than the writer 
 will undertake to say), each man felt the assurance that every guest 
 would be — in the opinion of a discerning and experienced host, 
 who cultivated acquaintance only according to liking — a man 
 whose society was personally agre*eable to that host. Hence what 
 may be called a prejudice in favor of the lot, which is a great step 
 towards easy association. And so it happened that thesemeetings 
 were pleasant and social, ah ovo usque ad mala : free of that annoy- 
 ance which, though well enough accustomed to it, we never could 
 name by an English word, but characterized as tedium^ ^<^/2e, or en- 
 nui^ until some master of language invented the word hore^ which 
 takes in all the others in agreements and differences both. As to 
 H. C. R. himself, at the head of his table, he managed to secure 
 attention to his guests without the guests themselves feeling that 
 they were on his mind. It is a great drawback on many pleasant 
 parties, that one unfortunate individual — the one whom every 
 other would wish to feel at ease — seems to be but a director of the 
 servants, indulged with a seat at the table. It would sometimes 
 have been a comfort to the writer if he could have been made sure 
 that his host had had, before dinner, what the tale calls a '' snack by 
 way of a damper." But this uneasiness never arose with respect to 
 H. C. R., who made his meal and carried on his conversation, while, 
 somehow or other, — the most satisfactory way in which many 
 things can happen, — his guests were perfectly well served, as he 
 knew and saw. And so these parties were too pleasant in all de- 
 tails to allow any remembrance of one part by its contrast with 
 another. The writer would find great difficulty in any attempt at 
 closer description : he was far too agreeably engaged to take note 
 of particulars. To be inserted between two conversible fellow- 
 guests is destructive of the power and the will to watch many other 
 
APPENDIX. 515 
 
 details : that can only be done with effect by a person who is seated 
 between his foe and his bore. 
 
 It has been noticed that H. C. R. had not much of a classical 
 education in his school-days. Perhaps no person alive can authen- 
 ticate this better than the writer ; if, as stated in the Inquirer^ and, 
 indeed, as remembered by the writer from his own lips, his only 
 classical instructor was his uncle, the Eev. John Ludd Fenner, The 
 writer used to astonish various persons by stating that he was an 
 old school-fellow of H. C. R., but he omitted the trifling addition 
 that more than thirty years elapsed between their dates of pupilage. 
 The writer was, in truth, a pupil of the Rev. J. L. F., who had sub- 
 sided from his school at Devizes into a petty day-school in a differ- 
 ent part of the country ; and from him the writer learnt his first — 
 fortunately not his last — notions of Latin and of G-reek, with some 
 writing, summing, how to mend a pen, and the first four verses 
 of Gray's " Elegy," with a wonderful emphasis upon the " moping 
 owl." He thinks, too, that he pitied the sorrows of a poor old 
 man ; but on this his memory is not so clear. H. C, R. could hardly 
 beheve this coincidence ; the well-remembered names of J. L. F., 
 and his being a Unitarian minister, were not enough ; though Ludd 
 is scarce. At last the writer remembered that Mrs. F. was called 
 by her husband Uty^ or Utie, '' That was her name," said he : 
 which was more than the writer knew ; for the boys had settled 
 among themselves that it was a corruption of Beauty^ and had cir- 
 culated the account in their homes, to the great amusement of 
 many. Poor lady ! the only amends the waiter can make to her 
 memory is to declare his full conviction that, let what may be said 
 about her husband's Latin and G-reek, there was no lack of good 
 feeding and motherly care. And it is much to the purpose ; for 
 such a pinch-commons as was often found in the schools of 1790 
 might have made H. C. R. sure enough not to live past ninety-one 
 years of age. But Mrs. F., who was as good a soul as ever took 
 snuff, — and not a little of it, — was very much impressed with the 
 idea that boys must eat, and men too. Mr. F., who was as worthy 
 as his wife, was a painstaking scholar of the humblest class of 
 acquirement, and of solemn and somewhat pompous utterance. 
 When the writer had picked up a trifle of Latin, he was promoted 
 to G-reek. He asked for a dictionary, and was assured that there 
 were no such things as G-reek dictionaries, but that he must have a 
 lexicon. So he was soon put to easy sentences out of the Testa- 
 ment : one was i John v. 7. He got on fairly until he had mastered 
 TraTTjp, and then, taking the rest for granted, concluded that \oyos 
 must be the Son. When he came up to his lesson, he was set right 
 thus, ''No! learned men translate Xcoyos by the Word.''' H. C.^R. 
 used to tell how he accidentally found the translation from which 
 his teacher used to prepare to hear him construe. He accordingly 
 used it himself; and by knowing his master's crib was never taken 
 for an ass. The worthy minister had, in G-reek, a kind of scholar- 
 ship not at all uncommon even among the established clergy of the 
 
516 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 end of the last century : the New Testament was picked up word 
 for word and phrase for phrase, without any knowledge of the 
 grammatical forms; peos olvos was new wine; but which word 
 meant new and which wine was often an open question. There was 
 a dictionary — no ! lexicon: it was the one above mentioned — for 
 those readers, in which every inflexion of every word was entered; 
 thus Xoyoy, Xoyov, &c., so far as they occur, were separately set 
 down, translated, and described. The writer forgets the name of 
 the lexicographer : it was the Hamiltonian system, interspersed 
 with exercise in turning over leaves. The book went through sev- 
 eral editions. But its very existence was unknown in the higher 
 regions. When the writer afterwards came under a teacher who 
 had been a Fellow of Oriel, his master one day took up this lexicon 
 from his desk, and after turning it over, as if he hardly beheved his 
 eyes, threw it down with: " Well! I could not have supposed it; 
 but it will not do you much harm." There was little chance of 
 H. C. R.' picking up a taste for the classics under such teaching : it 
 would be surprising if he learnt as much as that such a taste ex- 
 isted. The boy who was to be the associate of Goethe, Schiller, 
 Coleridge, Wordsworth, &c., must have had an innate power of 
 appreciating the beautilul and the imaginative, or must have grown 
 it in some way which no account of him distinctly states. 
 
 If there were two subjects upon which he was apt to be huffed^ 
 they were G-erman literature generally and Wordsworth. And yet 
 he certainly showed no striking adhesion to German doctrines in 
 philosophy, and no remarkable — certainly no exclusive — adoption 
 of German tone of thought. These things had opened his mind, for 
 his first real studies were in Germany, and in German : but they 
 did not block up the gateway. Real business, that of a reporter 
 from the scene of a campaign, of a newspaper writer, of a well- 
 employed lawyer, probably shaped modes of thought which pre- 
 vented the speculative from usurping the whole field, and even from 
 entire occupation of any part of it. 
 
 As to Wordsworth and his poetical comrades, it is certain that 
 the soul of H. C. R. was not that of a Lake-poet. Had he written 
 verse, the writer feels sure, without pronouncing upon the exact 
 place, that he would have come nearer to Hudibras than to the 
 " Excursion." He admired and appreciated, and saw all that was to 
 be seen ; whether, in the meaning of the enthusiasts, he felt all 
 that was to be felt, may be hung up for farther inquiry. It may be 
 suspected that, both as to the German and the English schools, his 
 admiration was for the writings, and his affection for his friends: 
 fiat mixtura was the prescription. It is worth noting, that both 
 his great objects of enthusiasm, both the points on which his temper 
 was occasionally assailable, were connected with deep personal re- 
 gards and long friendships. If, then, it be true which was whispered, 
 namely, that under irritation at an assault on Wordsworth, he in 
 former time told a literary lady that she was an " impertinent old 
 maid," — no doubt in that joco-serious tone in which he often 
 
AIVE.NDJX. 517 
 
 launched a hard word ; it was followed by a letter of apology, — it 
 must have been for his friends he spoke, and not for their doc- 
 trines.* 
 
 The writer, who knows little of the G-erman language, and has 
 little sympathy either with their recent philosophy or their histor- 
 ical criticism, exceptis excipiendis, and who is not capable of more 
 than a percentage of Wordsworth, did not abstain from either sub- 
 ject, and spoke his mind with freedom on both. There was never 
 any appearance of annoyance ; the worst was : " You 're a math- 
 ematician, and have no right to talk about poetry. I wonder 
 whether T could ever have been a mathematician ; I think not : to 
 be sure, I never tried. I have often thought whether it would have 
 been possible for a creature like myself, without a head to put any- 
 thing into, to have a notion given to him of a mathematical pro- 
 cess." Such a sparring-match one day ended in the writer under- 
 taking to give an idea of the way in which arithmetic acts in problems 
 of chance. The attempt was very successful ; and H. C. E. made 
 several references on future occasions to his having obtained one 
 idea on mathematics. 
 
 As to German, the writer one day ventured to bring forward 
 what he has long called the seven deadly sins of excess of that 
 language : 1. Too many volumes in the language ; 2. Too many 
 sentences in a volume ; 3. Too many words in a sentence ; 4. Too 
 many syllables in a word ; 5. Too many letters in a syllable ; 6. 
 Too many strokes in a letter ; 7. Too much black in a stroke. It 
 was all frankly admitted, as it would probably be by most of the 
 G-ermans themselves. The serious truth is, that the German mind 
 has this kind of tendency to excess, entirely independent of the 
 language. Free, strong, and earnest thought desires to get to the 
 bottom of everything ; and what it cannot find it makes. It asks. 
 What is the universe ? but this is poor measure for a transcendental 
 intellect. It then inquires how it is to be proved, a priori^ that a 
 universe is possible. And it is much to be feared that it will come 
 at last to a serious attempt to find out what, if existence had been 
 impossible, we should have had in its place. This, and more, was 
 brought forward by the writer to vex the spirit of the German 
 scholar. He even ventured to ask the like of whether if Werden^ 
 while transmuting NicMs into Seyn^ had been brought before the 
 Absohite for coining spurious Existence, he would have been able, 
 with Hegel's help, to prove that Existence and Non-existence are 
 all one. Things like these were brought forward when there ap- 
 peared any languor. It would be : '' Well ! how are you to-day, 
 Mr. R ? " — " 0, a poor creature; my head 's not fit for anything; 
 it never wan good for much ! " If a discussion Avas thereupon 
 brought about, the head would be roused, all the power would be 
 wakened in five minutes, and a small course of anecdote, beginning 
 
 * The story is that H. C. R. rushed down stairs, and when he got to the 
 door, heard tlie lady calling after him, " You had better take your hat, Mr. 
 RobinBon." — Kd. 
 
518 APPENDIX. 
 
 with Wieland, and ending with yesterday's visit from , or 
 
 perhaps vice versa, would send all megrim to the rightabout. 
 
 The last of the Lake School — for, though H. C. R. did not serve 
 at the altar, he was free of the Inner Court — was, strange to say, 
 not a poet, not apparently enthusiastic about poetry, more interested 
 in the real life than in the ideal, tolerably satirical in thought and 
 phrase, and a man whose very last wish would have been for the 
 " peaceful hermitage " to end his days in. This is the report of 
 one : how was it with others ? Did the mind of H, C. R. take color 
 from that of the person with whom he conversed ? Would he 
 have been other things to other m^en ? Such a power, or tendency, 
 or what you please, may go a little in aid of the writer's impression 
 that he was fit for success in anything, — in different degrees for dif- 
 ferent things, but with sufficient for utility and note. In whatever 
 he tried, he gained opinion, whether in what he liked, or in what he 
 disliked. It is much to be regretted that he had not an absorbing 
 literary pursuit ; but there are instances enough in which the pecu- 
 liar talents which are best displayed in conversation have turned 
 the others to their own purpose. 
 
 H. C. R. talked about everything but his own good deeds. But 
 even here he was not always able to prevent a hint from slipping out. 
 A lady applied to him about the truth of a story told by an unfor- 
 tunate person who, though greatly reduced, claimed to have known 
 H. C. R. in better days. He remembered all about it, and deter- 
 mined to give some relief Expressing this determination, it came 
 out in half-soliloquy : *' I have £ 500 a year to devote to charity, 
 but I am nearly at the end. I cannot do much this year." 
 
 If it were required to illustrate the peculiar parts of H. C. R.'s 
 mind, it could be best done, not by his reverential talk about 
 Groethe and Wordsworth, but by the humorous appreciation, mixed 
 with respect, with which he spoke of Robert Robinson of Cam- 
 bridge, the author of the '^ History of Baptism," and of G-eorge 
 Dyer, the " Q. D." of '' Elia's Essays." H. C. R. did not personally 
 know Robinson (ob. 1790), but several common friends of his, and 
 of the Cambridge Nonconformist, had furnished him with materials 
 for a small collection of Anecdotes, which he published in the Chris- 
 tian Reformer for 1845. Among these friends was Dyer, who was 
 himself the first biographer of Robinson. This Life (1796), though 
 the Memoir in the " Bunyan," i. e. Baptist Library (1861), which 
 may be called the official account, pronounces it ^' not satisfactory." 
 was declared by Samuel Parr, and also by Wordsworth {teste H. 
 C. R.), to be one of the best biographies in the language. Perhaps 
 the charm of the book is that Robert Robinson's peculiar humor 
 was wholly unappreciated by the simple-minded biographer, who 
 enters gems of satire which will be, as they have been, reprinted 
 again and again, with remarks of the most impercipient tameness. 
 It is a resemblance, on a small scale, of what had happened a few 
 years before, but without imitation. Dyer was to Robert Robinson 
 very like what Boswell was to Johnson, with several important dif- 
 
APPENDIX. 519 
 
 ferences. Now, Robert Robinson had a facult}^ of satirical * humor, 
 such as made a part of the furniture of the mind of H. C. R. , and 
 the friend of both, G-eorge Dyer, was a man in whom want of 
 humor amounted to a positive endowment. The juxtaposition of 
 the two, with H. C. R. as the approximator, was a treat. Charles 
 Lamb would have given the subject an essay : and it is to be regret- 
 ted that H. C. R. did not imitate his friend ; that is to say, we may 
 suppose it to be regretted ; but we may be wrong : it may be that 
 he could not have written much which would have reminded us of 
 the manner in which he always talked. 
 
 And to this point there goes another word. The elements of his 
 power of conversation have been enumerated, but all put together 
 will not explain the charm of his society. For this we must refer 
 to other points of character which, unassisted, are compatible with 
 dulness and taciturnity. A wide range of sympathies, and sym- 
 pathies which were instantaneously awake when occasion arose, 
 formed a great part of the whole. This easily excited interest led 
 to that feeling of communion which draws out others. 
 
 Nothmg can better illustrate this than reference to the old mean- 
 ing of conversation. Up to the middle of the last century, or near 
 it, the word never meant colloquy alone ; it was a perfect synonyme 
 for companionship. So it was with Crabb Robinson ; his conver- 
 sation was companionship, and his companionship was conversation. 
 
 * Over and above what H. C. R. has collected, a little crop might be raised 
 out of the different works and correspondence. Writing to Toulmin, Robert 
 Robinson gives the following: "Says a grave brother, ' Friend, I never heard 
 you preach on the Trinity.' I replied, * 0, I intend to do so as soon as 
 ever I understand it!'" Dyer would have recorded the intention, perhaps 
 with solemn remarks on the propriety of the delay for the reason given. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Vol. Page 
 Abbott, Chief Justice i. 373, 375, 401, 475 
 Abeilla i. 186 
 
 .1.332; ii. 181 
 . i. 242 
 
 . i. 488 
 
 . . 1. 77 
 
 i. 214, 215, 264 
 
 . 1.337 
 
 Aberdeen, Earl of . 
 Abernethy 
 
 Consultation with . 
 Abicht, Professor 
 Abington, Mrs. 
 Abolitionists, their merits 
 Academic shades . . . • i- ^^^ 
 Academical Society . . . . i. 238 
 Accident to Goddard . . . i. 438 
 Adair, Robert .... i. 269, 270 
 Adams (sculptor) . . . , ii. 507 
 
 Addison ii. 310, 312 
 
 Aders, Mr. i. 152, 261, 281, 354, 430, 480 ; 
 ii. 24, 25, 68, 83 
 
 his pictures sold . . . ii. 280 
 
 Mrs. . i. 469 ; ii. 14, 40, 183, 194 
 
 Aderses, The . . i. 453, 454 ; ii. 6, 27 
 
 Adolphus ii. 19 
 
 Adoration (The) of the Pope . . ii. 146 
 Adventurer, An . . . i. 443, 444 
 AflEau:s on the Continent . . ii. 369, 389 
 AflEluence of England . . . ii. 159 
 Agnew, Sir Andrew . . . . ii. 284 
 Aicken, the actor . . . . i. 34 
 Aikin, Charles . . i. 246, 256, 328, 371 
 
 Dr. i. 169, 219, 359, 480 : ii. 357, 456 
 
 Lucy . . . i. 145 : ii. 316 i 
 
 Mrs. Charles i. 192, 236, 247, 459 • 
 
 Death of . . . . i. 466 j 
 
 Aikins, The i. 243 I 
 
 Aikenhead, Thomas . . . . ii. 42 i 
 Aix, Archbishop of . . . i. 42 | 
 
 Akenside i. 78 
 
 Aldebert, Mr. i. 44, 46, 154, 157, 159, 354, I 
 
 394 
 
 Mrs. . . . . .i. 49, 444 
 
 Prints belonging to Mr. . i. 401 I 
 
 Alderson, Amelia . . . . i. 16 i 
 
 Baron . . i. 281, 335; ii. 466 , 
 
 Br ii. 33 
 
 Alexander, Emperor of Russia. . i. 391 ! 
 
 Mr. , barrister . . . ii. 177 
 
 Allen, Mr. . . . . . i. 178 
 
 The Misses . . . ii. 354 : 
 
 Miss, Death of . . . ii. 488 
 
 Allies, Intervention of the, in France i. 316 
 
 AUiston i. 397 
 
 Allsop . . . ii. 14, 204, 214, 215, 355 ' 
 
 Allston i. 384 i 
 
 Alsager i. 310, 311, 313, 315, 378 ; ii. 296 • 
 Alsager's, Party at . . i. 306, 325 i 
 Alsop, Mrs i. a54 ' 
 
 Vol. Page 
 
 Altenburg i. 104 
 
 Altona, Dangers at ... i. 156 
 Employment at . . . . i. 150 
 Escape from . . . . i 157 
 Friends at . . . . i. 149, 152 
 Hurried departure from . . i. 155 
 Mode of spending the day at . i. 151 
 Order to arrest Englishmen at i. 154 
 
 Politics at i. 152 
 
 post to England stopped . i. 153 
 
 ** Amatonda," H. C. R. 's translation of i. 231 
 
 Criticism on, by Coleridge . i. 231 
 
 Amelia, Dowager Duchess i. 393; ii. 112 
 
 American war and slavery . . ii. 491 
 
 Amory , author of " John Buncle " . i. 273 
 
 Amsterdam . . . . . i. 322 
 
 Amyot, Thomas i. 16, 173, 188, 217, 229, 
 
 244, 255, 260, 266, 299, 302, 312, 316, 
 
 326, 332, 376, 456 ; ii. 8, 87, 88, 89, 169. 
 
 231, 259, 296, 371, 483 
 
 H ii. 476 
 
 Anatomical riot . . . . ii. 190 
 Ancestors of H. C. R. . . . i. 1 
 Andersen, Hans Christian . . ii. 358 
 
 Anderson, Rev. Mr i, 243 
 
 Sir Charles . . . ii. 375 
 
 Andrews, Mord . i. 265, 266, 312, 395 
 
 Andros i. 339, 379 
 
 Anecdotes and bons mots ii. 479-81 
 Anaesthetics first used in surgical oper- 
 ations ii 
 
 Anglo-Papistical Churchmen ii 
 
 Annan ... 
 
 Anspach 
 
 Anspach, Margrave of 
 
 Anti-Bourbonism . 
 
 Anti-English feeling 
 
 Anti-Christ, The real 
 
 Anti-Kingites . 
 
 Antiquarian Club . 
 
 Entertainment 
 
 Society 
 
 Anti-slavery cause . 
 Antrim, Countess of 
 Aphorisms of Blake . 
 
 of Goethe 
 Appeal to Privy Council . 
 
 case in House of Lords 
 Abitrator, H. C. R. as 
 Arbuthnot, Mr. 
 Archaeological Association 
 
 meeting at Canterbury 
 
 at Lincoln 
 Archbishop of Canterbury . 
 
 u. 
 
 350 
 
 ii. 304 
 
 ii. 64 
 
 i. 76 
 
 ii. 103 
 
 ii. 10 
 
 i. 167 
 
 ii. 48S 
 
 i. 4.53 
 
 ii. 298 
 
 ii. 326 
 
 11, 371 
 
 . ii. 361 
 
 i. 384 
 
 ii. 27, 28 
 
 . ii. 464 
 
 . i. 397 
 
 . i. 474 
 
 . ii. 32 
 
 . i. 218 
 
 . ii. 325 
 
 . ii. 326 
 
 . ii. 374 
 
 ii. 365, 402 
 
522 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Architecture, Gothic . . i. 295 
 
 Milner on Ecclesiastical . i. 298 
 
 Arguilles i. 180 
 
 Arianism ii. 63 
 
 Army Commissioners . . . i. 181 
 Arndt . . i. 167, 189, 292 ; ii. 195, 413 
 his flow of talk . . . . ii. 416 
 his hopefulness for liberty . ii. 414 
 on diversity of race . . . ii. 414 
 on German unity . . . ii. 416 
 
 on Landor ii. 415 
 
 Religious opinions of . . ii. 415 
 
 Arno, The ii. 247 
 
 Arnohi, Dr. . ii. 19, 85, 217, 271, 291, 303, 
 
 360, 395 
 
 Death of 
 
 Dinner with, at Fox How . 
 History of Rome by 
 Latitudinarianism of . 
 on apostolical succession 
 on controverted doctrines . 
 on free pohtics 
 on liberty of thought 
 on religious subjects 
 Roads named by 
 
 Sermon by 
 Theology of 
 
 Lieutenant 
 
 — Mrs. 
 
 on Wordsworth 
 
 Miss 
 
 Arson 
 
 Art an inspiration . 
 
 Art, Works of 
 
 Asceticism • 
 
 Ashe, Captain 
 
 Ashford v. Thornton 
 
 Aspland, Rev. R. . 
 
 Rev. R. B. . 
 
 ii. 295 
 . ii. 271 
 ii. 277 
 . ii. 274 
 ii. 275 
 . ii. 222 
 . ii. 276 
 . ii. 221 
 . ii. 273 
 . ii.223 
 . ii. 220 
 . ii. 222 
 . ii. 450 
 ii. 321, 384, 386 
 . . . ii. 356 
 . ii.364 
 . . i. 330 
 . ii. 26 
 1.456 
 . i. 380 
 . i. 182 
 . 1.370 
 . i. 262 ; ii. 84 
 . ii. 339, 476 
 Assassination of Mr. Perceval • i. 246 
 Athenaeum Club opened . . ii. 7, 31 
 
 Porch of ii. 98 
 
 Atkins. Mrs ii. 217 
 
 Atkinson . . ii 364, 373, 494, 495 
 
 Atonement ii- 193 
 
 Attic Chest Society . • . i. 241 
 
 Austen, B ii. 263 
 
 Austerlitz, Battle of . . . i. 143 
 Austin, Charles . . i. 401 ; ii. 294 
 
 Mrs., . Preface, xiii. ; i. 16, 391 
 
 Austria, Emperor of . . . . ii. 13 
 
 in Italy ii. 152 
 
 Austrian military protection . ii. 147 
 
 Autobiography of H. C. R. suggested ii 221 
 Avoues and Avocats . ii. 10, 11 
 
 Aylesbury, Marquis of . . i. 332 
 
 A'yrton, i. 192, 313, 315, 325 : ii. 73, 119, 169 
 
 Mrs. ..... ii. 73 
 
 Ayton i. 276 
 
 Baader, Franz . . . . ii. 197 
 
 Babbage ii 424 
 
 Back, Lieut. . . . . ii. 16 
 Bacon . i. 127, 218, 257, 335, 358, 386 
 
 Q. C ii.S55 
 
 Baden-Baden i. 395 
 
 Badham, Dr ii. 30 
 
 Bagehot, Walter . . . . ii 476 
 
 Bagshot, At i.322 
 
 Baillie, Mrs. Joanna 
 Baird, Sir David . 
 Dr. 
 
 Baker .... 
 Bake well, Robert 
 Balance in political parties 
 Baldwin .... 
 Bally .shannon 
 Banks, Sir Joseph * 
 Lieut. 
 
 i. 246, 248, 250 
 
 i. 176; ii. 191 
 
 . i. 381 
 
 1.383 
 . ii. 70 
 
 ii. 202 
 . ii. 9 
 
 ii. 62 
 . 1.278 
 
 1.175 
 
 Banister, Jack . 
 
 Baptism 
 
 of desire 
 
 Bar dinner at the Athenaeum 
 Intention to study for 
 quits the, H. C. R. 
 
 1.317,328,384; ii. 456 
 ii. 200 
 
 . ii. 161 
 11. 19 
 
 . i. 230 
 ii. 86 
 15, 145 
 
 Barbauld, Mrs . i. 40, 144, 145, 153, 201, 
 207, 216, 239, 243, 246, 266, 328, 334, 359, 
 371, 388, 417 ; ii. 14, 219, 238, 337, 421 
 and the Lambs . . . i. 459 
 
 Picture of . . . . 1, 456 
 Poem by . . , . ii. 316, 317 
 on inconsistency in expectations 
 
 ii. 210 
 
 Barbauld's, Mrs., "Legacy " . ii. 30 
 
 "Nunc dimittis " . . ii. 421, 422 
 
 Bard's, Mrs., school . . . 1. 3 
 
 Baring, Sir T 1. 832 
 
 Barker, J. E 11. 4 
 
 Miss i. 340 
 
 Barlow ii. 424 
 
 Barnes .... 1.241,297.405 
 Barrett, Miss .... ii. 294 
 Barrister, A, of five years' standing . 1. 396 
 Barrot, Emile . . . . ii. 401 
 Barrow (of the Admiralty) . . ii. 88 
 Barrows opened . . . . ii. 325 
 Barry, Spranger . . . . i. 215 
 James . . . . i. 303 
 
 Bartlett (the actor) . 
 Barton, Bernard . 
 Bathurst (Bishop of Norwich) 
 Bavaria, King of . 
 Bavarian Government 
 Baxter's " Life and Times 
 
 comprehensiveness 
 Bayley, Sir John (Judge) 
 
 Miss 
 
 Bayne, Mrs. . ii. 
 
 Baynes, Bishop 
 Beat tie .... 
 Beaufoy . 
 Beaumont, Lord . 
 
 Sir George . i 
 
 and Lady . 
 Lady 
 
 Becher, Charles . 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 Beck, Mdlle 
 
 Bed on a parish boundary 
 
 Bedford, Duke of . 
 
 Beesly, Professor 
 
 Beggar, A . . . 
 
 Beldam, Joseph 
 
 Bell .... 
 
 Dr. 
 
 Dr. Andrew 
 
 (Publisher) . 
 
 . ii. 455 
 
 i. 486 
 
 1. 222, 317 
 
 . ii. 115 
 
 . ii. 115 
 
 . ii. 327 
 
 . ii. 327 
 
 i. 372, 373 
 
 ii. 425, 456, 473 
 
 425, 429, 474, 495 
 
 . ii. 311 
 
 1. 385 
 
 . i.243 
 
 ii. 404 
 
 244,325, ii. 242 
 
 1.485 
 
 . 1.332 
 
 1 334, 359, 495 
 
 . i. 363 
 
 1 392 
 
 . 1 325 
 
 • i. 178 
 
 . ii. 475, 477 
 
 1. 449 
 
 . ii. 20 
 
 i. 400 
 
 . ii. 62 
 
 1. 237 
 
 . 1.407 
 
INDEX. 
 
 523 
 
 Belsham, Thomas i. 22, 24, 216, 311, 316 ; 
 
 ii. 21, 77 
 
 on Church Establishments . i. 408 
 
 Benecke i. 411 ; ii. 3, 71, 100, 118, 191, 
 
 196,197,198,199,209,^25 
 
 Religious Philosophy of i. 410 ; ii. 200 
 
 Talk with, on religion 
 
 Theological views of 
 
 Mrs. . 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 . 11. <2 
 . ii. 192 
 ii. 118, 401 
 ii. 496, 49/ 
 . ii. k,49 
 1. 246, 36 < 
 248; ii. 4L 
 . ii. 89 
 
 Benedictines 
 Benger, Miss 
 
 Benger-s, Miss, Party at . 
 Benson .... 
 Benthani, .Jeremy i. 80, 206, 240, 279, 325, 
 381, 418, 423 ; ii. 14, 167, 168, 41i:' 
 Bequeath your books for sale . . ii. 288 
 
 Bergami i. 44i: 
 
 Bergamo ii, 250 
 
 Bergstrasse, The . . . . i. 131 
 
 Berlin i. lOl 
 
 Bernadotte i. 275 
 
 Berne i. 434 
 
 Berrymead Priory . . . . ii. 49< 
 
 Besser Preface, xv. 
 
 Bessieres, Marshal . . . i. 180 
 Best, J i. 401 
 
 Betterton 
 
 Bettina von Arnim . 
 
 Bettina-s daughters 
 
 prophecy for Italy . 
 Bexley, Lord ... 
 Bianci, Countess 
 Bkth of H. C. R. , 
 
 of a Prince. 
 Birthday 
 
 greetings for the aged 
 
 i. 264 
 i.l33; ii. 411 
 . ii. 411 
 . ii. 411 
 . ii. 182 
 . 1.176 
 . i. 2 
 . i. 450 
 . ii. 245 
 . . ii. 44(j 
 wishes " . . ". . . ii. 421 
 Bischof . . . . . . i. 141 
 
 Bischofif .... i. 156, 259, 455 
 
 James . . . . ii. 481 
 
 Bishop, Mr ii. 422 
 
 A liberal . . . ii. 352 
 
 of Bath and Wells (Law), ii. 88, 18/ 
 
 of Bristol . . . ii. 50 
 
 Burnet and Lord Bolingbroke, 
 
 Anecdote of . . . i. 216 
 
 of Durham . . . ii. 80 
 
 of Exeter . . . . ii. 332 
 
 Gregoire . . . . i. 283 
 
 Horsley 's advice to the clergy ii. 441 
 
 of Llandaff . . . . ii. 398 
 
 of Llandaff and Lord Southamp- 
 ton, Anecdote of . . i. 216 
 
 of London . . . Mi. 398 
 
 of Norwich . . . i. 222 
 
 of Oxford . . . . ii. 427 
 
 of St. David's (ThirlwaU) . ii. 426 
 
 Blackmore i. 382 
 
 Blake i. 192, 238, 247, 303 ; ii. 37, 43^372 
 Aphorisms of * . . ii. 27, 28 
 Book of Job illustrated by . ii. 33 
 Description of, by H C. R. . ii. 38 
 Effect of the " Excursion" on ii. 39 
 
 Hazlitt on ii. 75 
 
 H. C. R.'s paper on . . i. 191 
 H. C. R.'s last visit to . . ii. 74 
 andLinnell . . . . ii. 24 
 no man's follower . . . ii. 39 
 
 Blake on Art ii. 26 
 
 on Atheism • . . . ii. 29 
 on Boehme . . . . ii. 27 
 
 on Dante ii. 39 
 
 on death of Flaxman . . ii. 69 
 on education . . . . ii. 29 
 on evil of education . . ii. 26 
 on fall of man . . . . ii. 29 
 on good and evil . . . Ji. 26, 29 
 on ills own writing^ . . . ii. 35 
 on Manichean doctrines ii. 29, 30 
 
 on Milton ii. 89 
 
 on reason and inspiration . ii. 34 
 on suffering . . . . ii. 27 
 on Swedenborg . . . ii. 26, 27 
 on Voltaire's mission . . ii. 34, 35 
 on Wordsworth ii. 27, SO, 34, 39, 75 
 resists angels . . . . ii. 33 
 Blake's faculty of vision . . ii. 30 
 
 house ii. 28 
 
 manner ii. 28 
 
 opinion of Dante . . . ii. 28 
 poverty and refinement . . ii. 40 
 religious opinions . . ii. 25, 39 
 remarks on himself . . ii. 75 
 
 wife ii. 76, 77 
 
 Blake, General . . . . i. 180 
 
 Blanchard i. 274 
 
 Bland, Mrs i. 209 
 
 Blasphemy , What is . , . i. 494 
 
 Blessington, Lady . . . ii. 175, 271 
 
 and Jekyll . . . . . ii. 178 
 
 Parties at . . . ii. 207, 237 
 
 Blomfield, Bishop . . . . ii. 329 
 
 Mr. . . . . . i. 400 
 
 Blomfield's, Mr., school . . . i. 3 
 Blosset, Sergeant . i. 268, 356, 396, 410 
 
 Blum i. 164 
 
 Blunt, Mr. and Mrs. . . . i. 450 
 Boat excursion . . . . . ii. 251 
 Boccaccio . . . . ii. 114, 140 
 Boddington, Samuel . . . ii. 94 
 
 Bodmer i. 139 
 
 Boehme, Jacob i. 195, 249, 257 ; ii. 38 
 
 Bohemia i. 63 
 
 Boisgelin, Cardinal . . . i. 42 
 Bologna . . . . . . ii. 249 
 
 Bon mot on creeds and quantities ii. 281 
 Bonner, Bishop . . . . ii. 316 
 
 Bonner's Fields . . . . i. 406 
 
 Bons mots ii. 425 
 
 Book auction . . . . ii. 15 
 
 Booth i- 381 
 
 James . . • ii. 283, 297 
 
 ^oott, Dr. ii. 267, 350, 361, 372, 393, 406, 
 422, 425, 426, 453, 454, 455, 466, 471, 477 
 Boott's, Dr., death .... ii. 495 
 Borrower, A universal . . ii- 444 
 
 Bosanquet, Sergeant . . . }- 382 
 Boswell as a biographer . . "■ 458 
 Both and Berghem, then: winter scenes 
 
 ii. 292 
 
 Bottiger . . i. 71, 111, 115, 129 ; ii. 114 
 
 Bourbons, The . : • . - n. 10 
 
 Contempt for . . . ii. 10 
 
 ejected from France . . . ii- 136 
 
 Bourke, Madame Meyer . . ii. 413 
 
 Bowles, Lisle ii- 311 
 
 Bowring, Sir J. . • . i. 456 ; ii 14 
 
524 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BoxaU (R. A.) . . . U. 398, 451, 475 
 Boyle (Ireland) . . . . ii. 62 
 Boyle, Miss .... i. 353, 359 
 
 Mr ii. 63 
 
 Robert ii. 262 
 
 Boys. Dr. John . . . . i. 374 
 
 Brabant, Dr ii. 353, 354 
 
 Braham i. 10 
 
 John i. 208, 209, 210, 387, 428, 476 ; 
 
 ii.97 
 and Liston in '* Guy Mannering " i. 373 
 
 Brandreth ii. 367 
 
 Brass ii. 78 
 
 Braun, G. C i- 355 
 
 Breakfast at Rogers's with Moore ii. 307 
 
 with Wordsworth and Coleridge ii. 83 
 
 party at H. C R.'s . ii. 264, 406 
 
 with Monckton Milnes . . ii. 264 
 
 Break^ts, Two . . . . ii. 264 
 
 Brent ii. 30 
 
 Brentano i. 48 
 
 Bettina i. 133 
 
 Clemens i. 55, 56, 57, 85, 86, 480 
 
 Christian i. 56, 57, 58, 76, 77, 78, 
 
 79, 80, 39i 
 
 family. The i. 55, 57, 78, 80, 132, 
 
 299,394; ii. 99 
 
 George . . . . i. 299 
 
 Kunigunda . • . . i. 80 
 
 Senator . . . . ii. 196 
 
 Brewster, Dr ii. 424 
 
 *' Bride of Corinth" . . . i. 115 
 Bridge at Lucerne . . . . ii. 471 
 
 Bridport ii. 213 
 
 Briefs i. 383 
 
 Bright, Dr i. 377 ; ii. 290 
 
 Brightwell, Mr ii. 66 
 
 Bristol, Lord . . . i. 336 ; ii. 98 
 
 riot ii. 161 
 
 Britton ii. 374 
 
 Broad-Churchmen . . . . ii. 352 
 
 Church prospects . . . ii. 434 
 
 Brock, Mr. . . • . . - ii. 204 
 
 Brocken, Ascent of . . . i. 57 
 
 Broderip, Mr ii. 263 
 
 Brodrick, General . . . i. 176, 182 
 
 Broek, Mr i. 320 
 
 Bromley, John . . . . i. 220 
 Brooke, Rev. S. . . . ii. 492, 498 
 
 Brothers i. 34 
 
 Brougham, Lord i. 296, 465 ; ii. 17, 84, 
 
 213, 232, 260, 288, 364, 496 
 
 and Ellenborough . . . i. 296 
 
 and the Queen . . . ii. 151 
 
 Rumored death of . . . ii. 284 
 
 Lady i. 216 
 
 Brown, Robert (the botanist) ii. 449, 453, 
 
 467 
 
 Sir Thomas . Preface, xvii. ; i. 141 
 
 William . . ii. 400, 410, 449 
 
 Mrs ii. 485 
 
 Browning, Mr. and Mrs. . . ii 425 
 Brownlow, Earl . . . . ii. 374 
 
 Bruce i. 330 
 
 Rev. W ii. 63 
 
 BrUhl, Count .... i. 65 
 
 Brunet 1.267,290 
 
 Brydge ii. 15 
 
 Buchan, Lord i. 460 
 
 Buck, Mr 1.237,830 
 
 John i. 18, 19, 237, 265, 402 ; ii. 281 
 
 Mrs. . . 
 
 Catherine 
 
 Buckland, Dr. 
 
 Budin 
 
 Buffon's residence 
 
 BuUer, Judge 
 Mrs. 
 
 1.237 
 
 i. 19 
 
 ii. 326 
 
 i. 66 
 
 i. 448 
 
 . i. 1 
 
 i. 253, 430 
 
 . i. 206 
 
 1.186 
 
 i. 2.52 
 
 ii. 23r 
 
 ii. 231 
 
 Buller's, Mrs., At 
 
 Death 
 Bulwer, E. L. 
 Bulwer, Sir H.'s " France 
 
 his prophecy as to Louis Philippe 
 
 ii. 231 
 
 Bunbury, Sir C i. 172 
 
 Bunsen ii. 19, 120, 122, 129, 140, 246, 295, 
 357, 359, 409, 424, 488 
 
 and Wordsworth . . . ii. 246 
 
 Madame ii. 364 
 
 Bunsen's, Dinner at . . . ii. 246 
 
 soiree . . . . ii. 370, 371 
 
 Bunting, Jabez . . . . ii. 369 
 
 Bunyan, John ii. 372 
 
 Buonaparte, Napoleon i. 35, 52, 97, 112, 
 
 113, 116, 132, 144, 152, 180, 269, 278, 
 
 306, 307, 315, 316, 391 ; ii. 55, 112 
 
 Buonaparte's abdication . . i. 274 
 
 escape from Elba . , . i. 305 
 
 relation to La Fayette . 1. 285, 286 
 Buonaparte, Joseph . . .1. 175, 286 
 
 Lucien . . . . ii. 58 
 
 Buonapartism i. 331 
 
 Buonapartists and Anti-Buonapartists i. 307 
 Burdett, Sir F. . . i. 246, 277, 333 
 
 Burger 1. 72 
 
 Bargermeister, Strange behavior of i. 154 
 Burgoyne, Sir Montague . . . 1. 355 
 Burgsdorf, Baron . . . i. 364 
 
 Burial service . . . . ii. 183 
 
 Burke i. 18, 21, 50, 73, 212, 228, 270, 323, 
 385, 405 ; ii. 58, 94, 387 
 Burke's, A repartee of . . . i. 323 
 
 Burking i 461 
 
 Burnet, George . . . i. 195, 233 
 Burney, Dr., on Dr. Johnson . . ii. 479 
 
 Admiral . . . . i. 467 
 
 Captain. . . . i. 192, 313 
 
 Charles . . . . ii. 121 
 
 Martin 1. 312, 313, 349, 378 ; ii. 78, 
 
 355 
 
 Miss . . i. 308 ; ii. 119, 121, 162 
 
 Mr i. 195 
 
 Burns . . . 1. 249, 253, 382 ; ii. 294 
 
 Burr i. 410 
 
 Burrell . . . . 1. 267, 307, 325 
 Bury Fair i. 279 
 
 Jail i. 410 
 
 Sessions ii. 18 
 
 Busch, Professor . . . i. 149 
 
 Business i. 459 
 
 Busk, H. . . 11.358,373,476,477 
 
 Butler i. 211 
 
 Byles, Mr. Justice ii. 422, 440, 464, 466 
 Lady ii. 466 
 
 Byron, Lord, i. 19, 238, 241, 248, 311, 339, 
 
 363, 388 ; ii. 81, 105, 108, 109, 175. 
 
 176,214,235,246,412,446,481 
 
INDEX. 
 
 625 
 
 Byron, Bon mot of . . . . ii. 123 
 
 how he ought to be estimated ii. 453 
 on the Lake poets . . . i. 351 
 on Rogers . . . . ii. 178 
 to Ward ii. 123 
 
 Byron's "Cam" . . . . i. 472 
 
 Calvinism ii. 446 
 
 monument . . . . ii. 179 
 
 Byron, Lady ii. 427, 429, 430, 440, 445, 
 448, 450, 452, 465, 481 
 on Church horizons . ii. 431, 432 
 on comprehensiveness and separa- 
 tion ii. 444 
 
 on Dr. King . . . . ii. 438 
 on religious free-thinkers ii. 443, 444 
 on the Resurrection . . . ii. 454 
 and Robertson . . . ii. 431 
 on Spiritualism . . . ii. 454, 455 
 on Tayler, Rev. J. J. . . ii. 444 
 
 Calder Abbey . 
 
 Bridge . 
 Calderon . 
 Caldwell 
 Callcott . 
 
 Calvin . . . . 
 Calvinism and the Bible 
 Camaldoli 
 Camden, Lord . 
 Camelford, Lord . 
 Campagna grazier 
 Campan, Madame . 
 Campbell, Lord 
 Thomas 
 
 Camoens . 
 Canal voyage . 
 Canning . 
 Canova . 
 
 and Buonaparte 
 
 his " Mary Magdalene " 
 Canterbury 
 Cathedral . 
 
 . i. 344 
 
 i. 344 
 
 . i. 101 
 
 i. 487 
 
 . i. 406 
 
 ii. 27 
 
 . ii. 290 
 
 . ii. 248 
 
 . i. 355 
 
 . i. 53 
 
 . ii. 243 
 
 . i. 367 
 
 ii. 367, 371 
 
 385 ; ii 236 
 
 . ii. 376 
 
 . i. 318 
 
 1.374,407; ii. 77, 191 
 
 i. 364 
 i.412 
 i.478 
 ii. 325 
 ii. 325 
 
 *' Canterbury Pilgrims " of Blake and 
 
 Stothard ii. 74, 75 
 
 Capitol, The ii. 121 
 
 Carey ii. 214 
 
 Cargill .... i. 244, 351, 492 
 Carlile's trial for blasphemy i. 372, 412, 
 
 413, 493 
 Carlisle, Earl . . . . i. 354 
 
 Carlowitz, Herr von . . . i. 61 
 
 Carlyle, Dr. . . ii. 244, 245, 246, 247 
 
 Rev. . . . . ii. 188 
 
 Thomas i. 58 : ii. 9,15, 81, 108, 168, 
 
 169, 264, 273, 276, 277, 285 
 
 on the French Revolution . ii. 277 
 
 Wordsworth and Southey on . ii. 277 
 
 Lectures of . . . . ii. 287 
 
 Carnival, The . . . . ii. 124, 146 
 
 Carpenter, Dr. Lant . . . ii. 230 
 
 Dr. W. B ii. 476 
 
 Miss Mary . . . . ii. 445 
 
 Carr . . . i. 250, 353, 475 ; ii. 333 
 
 Carrick ii. 371 
 
 Cartwright, Major . . . . ii. 267 
 
 Case, W. A ii. 467, 489 
 
 Castle, the informer . . . i. 359, 331 
 Castlereagh, Lord 1. 371, 384, 407, 494 
 
 Casuistry of the bar . . . . i. 409 
 
 Catechising in Dunkirk. . . ii. 202 
 Catechists and Catechumens . . ii. 202 
 Cathcart, Lord . . . i. 149, 154 
 Catholic Emancipation . . . i. 405 
 Caulaincourt . . . . i. 112, 285 
 
 Cave, Otway ii. 295 
 
 Cervantes . . . i. 55, 308 ; ii. 114 
 
 Cevallos i. 180 
 
 Chadwick, Mrs ii. 425 
 
 Chalmers, Dr. . i. 462, 489 ; ii. 3, 15, 479 
 Chandos, Duchess of . . . i. 255 
 Channing, Dr. . i. 384 ; ii. 360, 391, 395 
 Chantrey . i. 254, 414, 468 ; ii. 30, 70 
 Chapman, Mrs. (of the United States) ii. 401 
 Character, An interesting . . ii. 438 
 Charitable contributions . . ii. 337, 338 
 Charlemont, Lord . 
 Charles VI. 
 
 X. 
 
 XII. of Sweden 
 
 . 11. 50 
 . i. 179 
 
 . ii. 54 
 
 . i. 212 
 
 . i. 371 
 
 . i. 380 
 
 . i. 473 
 
 272 ; ii. 292, 293 
 
 ii. 75,311 
 
 . i. 366 
 
 . ii. 388, 389 
 
 . ii. 80 
 
 . ii. 5 
 
 ii. 267 
 
 i. 262, 371 
 
 . . I 97 
 
 . ii. 392 
 
 . ii. 388 
 
 . ii. 207 
 
 . i.337 
 
 Charlotte, Princess 
 
 Chase, Mr. 
 
 Chat with a bricklayer 
 
 Chatterton 
 
 Chaucer 
 
 Ched worth, Lord 
 
 Cheerful creeds 
 
 Chester, Bishop of . 
 
 Chetwynd, Mr. 
 
 Chinon 
 
 Chitty . 
 
 Chladni . 
 
 Chloroform . 
 
 Cholera, The . 
 
 Chorley . 
 
 Christening, Wholesale 
 
 Christian, Who is a . . . i. 100 
 scheme ii. 193 
 
 Christianity and Atheism . . ii. 420 
 Attempted substitutes for . . ii. 156 
 and its shells . . . . ii. 458 
 
 Christie . . . . i. 314 ; ii. 17 
 
 Christmas, Rev. H. . . . ii. 42 
 
 Chromatic colors and metaphysics. On 
 
 ii. 346 
 
 Church ascendency . . . . ii. 226 
 questions . . . . ii. 305 
 Religion, how related to the . ii. 302 
 Scripture, how related to the ii. 300, 305 
 and State, Separation of . . ii. 299 
 supremacy . . . . ii. 300 
 
 Churches in Belgium . . . i. 820 
 
 Churchmen and Dissenters . ii. 228, 352 
 
 Gibber, Colley ii. 9o 
 
 Civil and religious liberty . . ii. 233 
 
 Clarke i. 370 
 
 Miss i. 367 
 
 Rev. J. Freeman . . . ii. 444 
 
 Clarkson, Thomas i. 19, 152, 222, 236, 283, 
 
 284,287,386; ii. 215, 285 
 
 Bury, his departure from . . i. 827 
 
 described in his 85th year . ii. 324 
 
 Dream by ii. 90 
 
 Emperor of Russia, his interview 
 
 with the i. 402 
 
 Freedom of the City presented to ii. 279 
 on baptism . . . . ii. 283 
 
 on the eternity of punishment ii. 161 
 Playford Hall, his residence at . i. 336 
 
526 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Clarkson, Portrait of . . . ii. 316 
 Sanguine character of . . ii. 293 
 Vindication of . . . ii. 266 
 Wiiberforce and Clarkson contro- 
 versy . . . . . ii. 265 
 
 Mrs. i. 16, 41, 148, 170, 171, 217, 
 
 225, 226, 239, 272, 283, 301, 327 ; ii. 215, 
 
 293, 360, 376, 427, 428 
 
 Death of . . . . . ii. 451 
 
 on Mr. Wiiberforce . . ii. 190 
 Mrs. Wordsworth's visit to ii. 435, 436 
 Thomas, Jr. i. 338, 467, 488 ; ii. 20, 
 
 21, 36 
 Clarksons, The i. 192, 290, 404, 472 ; 
 
 ii. 161 
 Classics, List of, by Capel Lofft . ii. 349 
 Classification of Wordsworth's poems, 
 H. C. K. on . . . . . ii. 36 
 
 Clergyman at Colditz . . . i. 60 
 Clerical admonisher, A . . . ii. 443 
 Cline, Surgeon . . . . i. 488 
 
 Clough, Arthur H. . . . ii. 384, 339 
 
 Cobb, Mr. Tom . . . . ii. 478 
 
 Cobbett . . . i. 269, 275, 340, 347 
 Cochrane, Lord . . . . i. 277 
 
 Cockerell . . . . . . ii. 410 
 
 Cockermouth . . . . i. 343 
 
 Cogan, Mr ii. 88 
 
 Cola, Dr ii. 121,122 
 
 Cold Fell i. 343 
 
 Coleridge, S. T. . i. 20, 35, 41, 202, 224, 
 
 245, 246, 249, 255, 334, 850, 369, 409, 490 ; 
 
 ii. 2, 19, 21, 354, 375, 416, 465, 494 
 
 " Aids to Reflection," by . . ii. 41 
 
 Coleridge, and AUsop . . . ii. 14 
 
 Allsop's Letters of . . . ii. 215 
 
 »' Ancient Mariner " of . ii. 221, 222 
 
 Anecdotes by, of himself . . i. 237 
 
 '* Biographia Literaria,*' by . ii. 357 
 
 Blue-coat School, influence on . ii. 224 
 
 at Cambridge . . . . ii. 190 
 
 Children of . . . . i. 340 
 
 Conversation of, difficult to report ii. 43 
 
 Cottle's Recollections of . . ii. 280 
 
 Criticism by, on " Amatonda " i. 231 
 
 Death of ii. 194 
 
 Discursiveness of . • • i. 223 
 Early Life of . . . . i. 253 
 at the R. A. Exhibition . . i. 218 
 Extract of letter from . . ii. 307 
 German character of his mind i. 226 
 and Godwin . . . . i. 238 
 at Green's . . . . ii. 6 
 andHazlitt . . . i. 207, 237 
 Highgate, settles at . . i. 334 
 his own publisher . . . i. 329 
 and Irving . . . . ii. 6 
 and Lady Mackintosh . . i- 251 
 Lamb on . . i. 238, 481 ; ii. 7 
 Lay sermon of, reviewed by H. C. R. 
 
 ^ i. 3^>2 
 as a lecturer . . . i. 225, 226 
 Lectures of i. 171, 224, 225, 226, 227, 
 231, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 380, 381, 
 382, 3^3 
 Coleridge's Marginaha . . ii. 229 
 met by H. C. R. first time in pri- 
 vate i. 195 
 
 music, his enjoyment of . i. 480 
 
 Coleridge on action as the end of all i. 235 
 on belief . . . . i. 197 
 on bibliolatry . , . . ii. 230 
 on brotherly and fdsterly love i. 207 
 on Caen Wood . . . . i. 362 
 on Church Establishments . ii. 233 
 on conversion of the Jews . ii. 295 
 on Dante . . . . i. 383 
 on factory children . . . i. 386 
 on Falstaff . . . . i. 199 
 on fancy and imagination . . i. 196 
 on "Faust" . . . . i. 254 
 on Frere's ^' Aristophanes " . i. 363 
 on German philosophy . . i. 195 
 on German poetry . . . i. 217 
 on Godwin . . . . i. 208 
 on Goethe . . i. 261 ; ii. 7, 480 
 
 on the Greek drama . . i. 247 
 on ''Hamlet" . . . L 198, 235 
 on his son Hartley . . . i. 219 
 on the Hone prosecution • . i. 378 
 on Hume . . . . i. 199 
 on inspiration . . . . i. 197 
 on Irving . . . . ii. 83 
 on Jeremy Taylor . . . i. 200 
 on Johnson's Preface . . i. 236 
 
 on Kant i. 244 
 
 on Lamb's Essay on Hogarth i. 217 
 
 on law i. 206 
 
 on " Lear " and " Othello " . i. 236 
 on Locke . . . . . i. 200 
 on Milton . . L 238, 239, 383 
 on miracles . . . . i. 197 
 on T. Moore . 
 on " Paradise Regained" 
 on "Pericles" 
 on philosophy . 
 . on the possessive case . 
 on the Reform Bill . 
 on " Richard HI." 
 on Schiller 
 
 on Shakespeare's fools . 
 on Southey 
 
 .onSouthey's**Cid" . 
 on Spinoza . 
 on a steam-engine • 
 on Thelwall 
 
 on " Titus Andronicus " 
 on toleration 
 
 on Wordsworth . i. 195 ; ii. 479, 480 
 on Wordsworth's tragedy . . ii. 231 
 one of five poets at Monkhouse's i. 485 
 Reception of friends by, in bed ii. 170 
 and Southey on politics . i. 169 
 " Table-Talk," by, H. C. R.'s criti- 
 cism on ii. 170 
 
 Tea with, at Highgate . . ii. 21 
 
 Tieck on i. 366 
 
 and Tieck at Highgate . . i. 364 
 and Tieck at Mr. Green's . . i. 360 
 Tragedy by (" Remorse ") i. 258, 260 
 Washington Allston on . i. 384 
 
 at whist i. 487 
 
 Wit of i. 349 
 
 and AVordsworth . i. 259 ; ii. 222 
 
 Mrs. S. T i. 340 
 
 Derwent . ii. 383, 386, 451, 475 
 
 Hartley i. 219, 378, 472; ii. 287, 
 
 1 
 
 i. 
 
 363 
 
 . i 
 
 199 
 
 i. 
 
 198 
 
 . i 
 
 207 
 
 i. 
 
 3as 
 
 . ii 
 
 170 
 
 i. 198 
 
 2a5 
 
 . i 
 
 254 
 
 i 
 
 205 
 
 . i. 
 
 207 
 
 i 
 
 363 
 
 1.198 
 
 257 
 
 . ii 
 
 186 
 
 . i 
 
 217 
 
 i 
 
 198 
 
 . ii. 
 
 232 
 
 A Oil 
 
 m 
 
INDEX. 
 
 527 
 
 Coleridge, Anecdotes of, as a child i. 219 
 as an author • . . . i. 472 
 Death of . . . 11. 382, 383 
 
 Funeral of ii. 334 
 
 -H.N 11.232 
 
 — Mrs. H. N. i. 171, 340 ; 11. 95, 354, 
 
 357 
 Death of .... 11. 424 
 
 Justice, Mr ii. 398 
 
 Coliseum, The, at Rome . ii. 121, 244 
 
 College studies ii. 377 
 
 Collins (poet) . . . i. 13, 73. 170 
 
 (R. A.)-. . . ii. 6, 20, 243 
 
 Collier, J. D. 1. 87, 145, 148, 158, 186, 205, 
 
 216, 229, 230, 270, 297, 304, 311, 323, 324, 
 
 326, 362, 374, 378, 382, 411, 415 ; ii. 371 
 
 Death of . . . . 11. 24 
 
 Mrs. i. 147, 194, 240, 266, 304, 380 ; 
 
 11. 188 
 
 Mrs. , Senr. ... 11. 31 
 
 J. Payne i. 26, 222, 313, 398, 401, 
 
 407, 408 ; 11 285 
 
 Jane i. 328 
 
 Colliers, The 1. 26, 147, 148, 198, 266, 267, 
 
 275, 304, 306, 309, 310, 325, 326, 328, 
 
 334, 351, 334, 373, 376, 377, 387, 389, 
 
 404,414; 11.98,157 
 
 and Procters . . . .11. 351 
 
 Colman i. 16, 351 
 
 Colquhoun 11. 330 
 
 Coltman, Mr. . . . . ii. 51 
 
 Columbus i. 178 
 
 Combe, W. . . 1. 188, 189, 303, 332 
 Comitas Gentium, No, between Eng- 
 land and Scotland . . .1. 405 
 
 Como, Lake i. 442 
 
 Communist, A 11. 456 
 
 Comprehensiveness . . .11. 445 
 Condorcet, Madame de . . . i. 269 
 Conflict of English and Scotch law ii. 73 
 Conformists, Insincere, the worst ene- 
 mies of the Church . . . ii. 228 
 Conformity and latitudinarianism ii. 376 
 Conformity, Pretended, lowers a man 11. 228 
 Congreve . . . . i. 210, 264 
 Conservatism . . . . .11. 210 
 Constable . . . . i. 362 ; 11. 20 
 Constant, Benjamin . . i. 116, 120, 291 
 • on monarchy . . . i. 403 
 
 Constantlne, Prince . . . . i. 126 
 Contentment . . . . i. 327 
 Continent convulsed . . . ii. 369 
 Controversy, Evils of . . ii. 306, 307 
 Conyngham, Lord A. . . . ii 325 
 Cooke (actor) . . . i. 53, 199, 384 
 Cooke, Captain . . . . i. 192 
 
 Cook-on, Mr. and Mrs. . . ii, 89 
 
 W. S. ii. 229. 293, 317, 352, asS, 
 
 372, 397, 465, 475, 476, 487 
 Cooper, Abraham. . . . 1.406 
 
 Sir Astley i. 141, 330, 386, 406, 488 
 
 Henry . . i. 269 ; 11. 9, 16, .31 
 
 Mrs. . . . . . i. 322 
 
 Copernicus i. 49 
 
 Coplestone . . . . . i. 292 
 
 Copley i. 267, 358 
 
 and Gifford . . . i. 361 
 
 Copyright in America . . .11. 260 
 Coquerel, Athanase . . . i. 367 
 
 Cork il. 45 
 
 Courts of Justice in . . ii. 45 
 
 Cornelius ii. 74, 255 
 
 A supper to . . . .11. 149 
 Corn-law Rhymer, The . . . ii. 233 
 Cornwall, Barry . .1. 453 ; 11. 42, 494 
 Coroner's inquest . . . .1. 420 
 
 Correggio 11. 75 
 
 Correspondence of Goethe and Knebel 
 
 ii. 451 
 and Schiller ii. 104 
 Corruptions in the Church before the 
 
 Reformation . . . . ii. 55 
 Corry, Right Honorable Isaac . . ii. 61 
 Corsini Palace . . . . ii. 244 
 
 Corunna i. 173 
 
 Acquaintance at . . . i. 176 
 Arrival of English troops at . 1. 176 
 Arrival of the French at . i. 186 
 
 Battle of i. 185 
 
 Description of ... i. 174 
 English leaving . . • . i. 185 
 French approaching • . i. 183 
 H. C. R.'s work at . . . i. 174 
 In the Bay of . . . i. 185 
 
 Costello ii. 318 
 
 Cottle, Joseph . . . . ii. 2-30 
 as a poet .... ii. 230, 231 
 Coulson .... i. 313, 325 
 Counsel on circuit in 1777 . .1. 355 
 Counsellor's bag, The . . . i. 399 
 
 Head, The ii. 49 
 
 Courier, The . . . . i. 218 
 
 Court, At ii 111 
 
 Dinner at .... i. 390 
 
 Dinners at i. 392 
 
 The, on ducal alliances . ii. 112 
 
 Courtenay it. 267 
 
 at table ii. 267 
 
 Coutts, Miss Burdett ii. 295, 318, 424, 425, 
 449, 454, 482, 485, 506 
 
 Mrs. . . . . .11.112 
 
 Covent Garden . . . i. 398 ; ii. 227 
 An evening at .... i. 387 
 Hustings at .... i. 404 
 
 Cowper i. 245 
 
 Letters of . . . . ii. 67 
 
 Earl i. 332 
 
 Crabb, Habakkuk . . . i 8, 9 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. . . .1. 329 
 
 Zachary . . . . i. 145 
 
 Crabbe i. 311 
 
 Poems by . . . . ii. 219 
 
 Craft ii. 429 
 
 Craniology . . . . . i. 140 
 
 Compilation on, by H. C. R. . i. 141 
 
 Cran worth, Lord . . i. 269, 353 ; ii. 470 
 
 Lady . . . i. 353 ; ii. 458 
 
 Cra^vford, General . . . i. 176 
 
 Craven, Lady 11. 103 
 
 Crebillon i. 139 
 
 CressweU 11. 464 
 
 Creuzer i. 108 
 
 Cribb, Champion . . . . 1. 298 
 
 Tom, Memorial of . . i. 404 
 
 Criminal, Execution of . , . i. 130 
 
 Criminal French courts, Procedure in i. 288 
 
 law, French . . . .5, 479 
 
 Criminal law, French, defects in . ii. 16 
 
528 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 i-n i 
 
 Croker li. 96, 97 
 
 Cro!y,Dr i. 264, 467 
 
 Crompton, Dr i. 196 
 
 Judge . . . . i. 197 
 
 Cromwell i. 199, 270 
 
 Cumberland i. 189 
 
 auction, A i. 345 
 
 Cunningham, Peter . . . ii. 405 
 
 Curious books ii. 71 
 
 Curran i. 191, 203, 222, 269, 270, 381, 404, 
 
 408; ii. 58, 60 
 
 Miss 1.292 
 
 Curtis, Miss 1.369 
 
 Cuthbert . . . . . • ii. 61 
 Cuvier ii. 172 
 
 Dalarb 1.163 
 
 Drive from, to Stockholm . 1. 164 
 D'Alberg, Elector . . . . i. 129 
 
 D'Alembert i. 150. 
 
 Dallas, C. J i. 19, 400 
 
 Dalrymple, Sir Hew ... 1. 494 
 
 Danby ii. 19 
 
 Dancing-master, Anecdote of . 1. 222 
 D'Angiviller, Count . . , .1. 149 
 Dante . . .1. 77, 205 ; ii. 27, 29, 235 
 D'Arblay, Madame . 1. 48, 192 ; u. 119, 337 
 
 Mr 11. 71 
 
 D'Arcy, Colonel . . . . 1. 412 
 
 Darling, Dr U. 405 
 
 Darwin 1. 82 
 
 David 1. 283 
 
 Da Vinci, Leonardo . . .1. 333, 445 
 Davison, Rev. D. . . U. 100, 354, 373 
 Davy, Sir Humphry . 1. 250 ; 11. 6, 94 
 
 Dr 11.321 
 
 Lady 1. 250 
 
 Sergeant . . . . 1. 303 
 
 Dawe. . . . . . .1.292 
 
 Dawn of a new year ... 1. 229 
 
 Dawson, Mr li. 61 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. John . 11. 495, 497 
 
 Deaf and Dumb Institution . . 1. 103 
 Debate on private theatricals . 1. 147 
 Debating Society . . . .1. 211 
 
 notes of a speech at . .1. 211 
 Decay of enjoyments . . .11. 501 
 De Courcy, Admiral ... 1. 176 
 Decree of the new King of Hanover li. 255 
 Deeper than creeds . . . ii. 434 
 De Foe . . .' . i. 8 ; 11. 371 
 
 De Foe's " Colonel Jack " . . 1.209 
 
 Deity of Christ 1.411 
 
 Dekkar 1. 383 
 
 De Lamennais . . 1. 478;li. 19, 99 
 
 on religious indifference . 1. 480 
 
 De Maistre, Count . . . . ii. 19 
 
 De Morgan Preface, xlx. ; 1. 462 ; ii. 476, 
 
 480, 486, 489, 492, 494, 495, 496, 499, 609 
 
 on wise and good men . . ii. 490 
 De Morgan's, At . . . . ii. 424 
 
 inaugural lecture . . ii. 377 
 
 De Morgan, Mrs ii. 472 
 
 Denman, Miss Preface, xi. ; 1. 294, 369, 
 
 411 ; 11. 24, 193, 211, 213, 355, 356, 360, 
 
 363, 364, 402, 454 
 
 Denmans, The Miss . . . . ii. 423 
 
 Denman, Lord • . . ii. 84, 152 
 
 Messrs 11. 70 
 
 Denman, Mr. . . . . ii. 182 
 
 Dentist, A 1. 327 
 
 De Qulncey i. 251, 338, 339, 347, 466 ; 11. 9, 
 
 A walk with . . . . 1.347 
 De Quincey's writings . . .1. 465 
 De la Roche, Madame . . . 1. 66 
 Derrynane 11. 54 
 
 A journey to . . . . li. 53 
 
 Des Cartes 1. 257 
 
 Des Yoeux 11. 81 
 
 Devizes 11. 44, 353 
 
 Devonshire, Duchess of . . i. 370 
 
 Devon 1. 478 
 
 Devrient li. 115 
 
 Dewhurst, Mr . . . . .1. 222 
 Diaries, Value of . . . .11. 318 
 Dibdin, Dr ii. 71 
 
 Life of . . . . . 11. 237 
 
 Dick, Quentin 
 
 li. 43 
 
 Dickens ii. 371 
 
 Dickenson, Mrs li. 436 
 
 Diderot 1. 150 
 
 Difference between English and German 
 
 philosophy ii. 225 
 
 between fancy and Imagination 11. 461 
 
 of opinion 11. 347 
 
 Difficulty of perfect fairness . . ii. 306 
 
 Diffidence 11. 213 
 
 Digest of Catholic orthodoxy . li. 254 
 
 Dighton, \V. E li. 432 
 
 Dignum i. 209 
 
 Dill, Mr. and Mrs ii. 236 
 
 Dining club. Proposed . . . 11. 14 
 Dinner after repeal of Test Act . li. 84 
 
 a la Russe . . . .11. 123 
 
 Disney ii. 371 
 
 Disraeli, B 11. 88, 237 
 
 Isaac, on literary character . i. 472 
 
 Dissent 1. 352 
 
 favorable to Integrity . . ii. 228 
 greatly maintained by Intolerance 11. 228 
 Dissenters' Chapels Bill . . 11. 328, 333 
 brought into the Lords . . ii. 329 
 Debate about, in the Commons 11. 330 
 Grounds of H. C R.'s interest in ii. 330 
 grounds of legal decision . ii. 332, 383 
 H. C. R.'s letter in the Tiines on ii. 329 
 
 Object of ii 329 
 
 the question not one of property li. 331 , 
 
 332 
 
 Wordsworth on . . . . ii. 331 
 
 Distress in England . . . 1. 51 
 
 j Distribution of prizes at University Col- 
 
 I lege .... 11.482,493 
 
 Divinity of Christ . . . . ii. 193 
 
 Dobberan i. 160 
 
 Dobson, Mr i. 10 
 
 Doctrinal difficulties . . . li. 193 
 
 Doctrine of redemption . . . ii. 193 
 
 of satisfaction . . . ii. 222 
 
 Doctrines dishonorable to God . . li. 300 
 
 Dodd 11. 19 
 
 Dog, The guardian . . . .11. 150 
 
 Doggett i. 264 
 
 Dolci, Carlo i. 332 
 
 Domenichlno . . . . . i. 354 
 
 Donaldson, Dr. ii. 291, 344, 349, 350, 352, 
 
 354. 373, 376, 377, 404, 406, 425, 440, 488 
 
INDEX. 
 
 529 
 
 Donaldson, death of . . . . ii. 474 
 and Donne . . . ii. 348, 358 
 Early life of . . . . ii. 474 
 Mot of . . . . ii. 409, 428 
 on Robertson . . . . ii. 434 
 
 Professor T. L. . . . ii. 410 
 
 Donatio mortis causa . . . ii. 453 
 " Don Juan " . . . i. 466 ; ii. 109 
 Donne ii. 348, 358, 387, 395, 457, 471, 476 
 
 Ddring ii. 102 
 
 D'Orsay, Count . . ii. 176, 207, 237 
 
 Dowling, Sergeant and Mrs. . . ii. 449 
 Drake, Midshipman . . . . i. 175 
 Dramatic authors, Modem, of Italy ii. 153 
 Dream by Mr. Clarkson . . . ii. 90 
 Dreams and prognostics , . i, 469 
 verified . . . . i. 469 
 
 Dresden . . . . i. 62 ; ii. 113 
 
 At ii. 413 
 
 Picture Gallery . . . i. 62 
 
 Drury Lane i. 454 
 
 Dry den . . . i. 108, 363; ii. 70, 292 
 Dryden's '' Lucretius " . . . ii. 77 
 
 Duar, Mr ii. 260 
 
 Duchesnois i. 282 
 
 Duchess, Dowager, Amelia . i. 135, 138 
 
 Grand, The, of Saxe Weimar i. 136, 
 
 390 ; ii 112 
 Dinner with the . . ii. 112 
 and Napoleon . . i. 391 
 
 Ducis i. 282 
 
 Duckworth ii. 209 
 
 Dudley, Lord . . . i. 293 ; ii 349 
 DuelUng in France . . . i. 479 
 Duke of Cumberland . . . ii. 255 
 
 ofGotha .... ii. 398 
 
 Grand, The . . . . i 392 
 
 of Sussex at Kensington . ii. 169 
 
 ofWeUington . . . ii. 255 
 
 Death of . ii. 425 
 Funeral of . ii. 426 
 
 Dumoulin i. 213 
 
 Dundonald, Lord . . . . i. 277 
 
 Dupin, M ii. 400 
 
 Dupont, Marshal . . . i. 173, 175 
 
 Durango i. 186 
 
 Duroc i. 285 
 
 Dutch, Good-will of the . . i. 162 
 
 Dutton i. 103 
 
 Dwarris ii. 371 
 
 Dycc ii. 388 
 
 Dyer, George i. 39, 40, 146, 228, 239, 313 ; 
 
 ii. 291, 375, 472, 518, 519 
 
 Mrs. . . . i. 40 ; ii. 472 
 
 Eagle 
 
 Eardley, Sir Culling . 
 
 Earliest recollections 
 
 Easdale Tarn 
 
 Eastlake, Sir C. . . i. 271 
 
 and Gibson . 
 Eaton in the pillory 
 Ebrington, Lord . 
 Ecclesiastical titles assumption 
 
 censure expected . 
 Eckermann .... 
 Economical arrangements . 
 
 Edgar 
 
 Miss .... 
 
 ii. 18 
 ii. 449 
 i. 2,3 
 ii. 299 
 ii. 405 
 ii. 120 
 i. 248 
 ii. 59 
 ii. 403 
 ii 419 
 ii. 473 
 ii. 119 
 ii.231 
 li.213 
 
 Edgeworth, Miss i. 249, 256, 423 ; ii. 191 
 
 Mr. and Miss . . . . i. 266 
 
 Edghill ii. 17 
 
 Edinburgh 
 
 " Edinburgh Review " . 
 
 article on ants . 
 Edmonds, Mr. 
 Education of the race 
 Edwards, Jonathan 
 Effect of cold on old age . 
 
 of controversial works 
 
 of old age . 
 
 of W. Smith's Act . 
 Egerton, Mrs. . 
 Egloffstein . 
 Ehlers, Dr. . . . 
 Einsiedel, Count . 
 
 Herr von • 
 
 Madame 
 
 Eldon, Lord i. 276, 357 
 
 ii. 187, 188 
 
 i. 208 
 
 . i.256 
 
 . ii. 238 
 
 ii. 419, 433 
 
 . ii. 210 
 
 . ii. 490 
 
 . ii. 306 
 
 . ii 420 
 
 . ii. 332 
 
 . i 373 
 
 . ii. 175 
 
 . i. 149 
 
 i. 390 
 
 . i. 393 
 
 i. 140, 393 
 
 386, 400 ; ii. 80 
 
 . ii. 446 
 
 i. 254 
 
 . i. 254, 359 
 
 269, 296, 358, 
 
 Eleemosynary Christians 
 Elgin, Lord . 
 
 marbles 
 
 Ellenborough, Lord i. 265, -v.-, —v., ^^^, 
 
 359, 370, 373, 374, 375, 376, 377, 493 
 
 Ellenborough's overbearing ways i. 376 
 
 Elleray, At ii. 220 
 
 Elliot ii. 236 
 
 Elliott, Ehenezer . . i. 76 ; ii. 223, 456 
 
 Ellis, Sir H ii. 169, 298 
 
 Elliston i. 209 
 
 Elwin i. 156 
 
 Ely, Talfourd . . . ii. 476, 488, 489 
 
 Emancipation dinner 
 Emerson in company 
 in England 
 
 u. 58 
 ii. 371 
 ii. 371 
 
 44 
 
 402 
 
 351 
 
 i;i66 
 
 i. 166 
 
 i. 51 
 
 VOD. II. 
 
 23 
 
 Miss Martineau's impression of ii 372 
 Emerson's lectures . . . ii. 372 
 
 Emery i. 373, 387 
 
 Eminence in jyrt and politics com 
 
 pared ii 
 
 Emperor Alexander on slavery . i 
 
 Empson ii. 257 
 
 Engerstrbm, Herr von . . . i 
 
 Dinner with 
 England, Condition of . 
 
 State of mind in . . . i. 275 
 English clamor against German theolo- 
 gians ii. 225 
 
 copyright in America . . ii. 260 
 
 friends i. 144 
 
 and German habits of thought ii. 226 
 literature . . . . i. 139 
 Engravings, good. Charm of . . i. 379 
 Ennui the Mother of the Muses . ii. 108 
 Enthusiasts intolerant . . . ii- 401 
 Epicure, An .... 
 Epigram on Dr. Parr 
 Erlangen .... 
 
 EroUes i- 482 
 
 Erskine, Henry . . . . i. 460 
 
 Lord i. 10, 11, 18, 22, 36, 136, 143, 
 
 212, 269, 276, 302, 303, 400, 460 ; ii. 371 
 his acceptance of the chancellor- 
 ship .!■ ^^ 
 
 Escape, Narrow . . . 1.159; ii. 258 
 
 Esdai!es,The ii. 485 
 
 Esmond, Sir T u- 58 
 
 Essentials and non-esacntials . ii. 198 
 
 H H 
 
 ii. 26 < 
 ii. 166 
 i 77 
 
530 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Established Church, Value of . i. 408 
 Estlln, Mr. . . . . ii. 290 
 
 Eternal punishment . • ii. 23, 210 
 
 Eucharist, The ii. 200 
 
 Europe, Prospects of . . . i. 275 
 
 Settling of i. 274 
 
 Euthanasia ii. 385 
 
 Evans, Dr ii. 9, 44 
 
 • ' Joseph . . . . ii. 9, 44 
 
 Mrs ii. 44, 45 
 
 Evanson i. 214 
 
 Evening with the Savignys . . ii- 412 
 parties in Italy . , . ii. 144 
 Evil, Effect of consciousness of . ii. 396 
 None exempt from . . ii. 396 
 Place of, in the divine economy ii. 393 
 Ewald, Professor . . . . ii. 262 
 ** Excursion," The ''Edinburgh Re- 
 view "'on the .... i. 301 
 Exercises in antique physiognomy ii. 121 
 Exhibition, Royal Academy . ii. 19, 20 
 Coleridge on . . . . i. 214 
 of English portraits . . . i. 431 
 
 pictures i. 247 
 
 Expurgation of Italian books . , ii. 208 
 
 Extortion i. 441 
 
 Eyre, Hedges . . . . ii. 49, 404 
 
 Faber . . . .ii. 296, 299, 302, 314 
 
 a fanatic ii. 303 
 
 at Rome . . . . ii. 309 
 
 Dinner to ii. 304 
 
 on the real presence . . ii. 301 
 on repression of heresy . . ii. 303 
 on revelation . . . . ii. 300 
 Talk with . . . . . ii. 299 
 unable to join the Romish Church 
 
 ii. 303 
 Fahrenkriiger . . . . i. 137 
 Failure of mental powers . . ii. 409 
 Faith of the heart . * . . ii. 443 
 in liberty and humanity . . ii. 417 
 Falsehood, Power of . . . ii. 480 
 False impressions . . . . ii. 438 
 Fame an evil . . . . ii. 26 
 Family blessings and social ones com- 
 pared ii. 421 
 
 prayers . . . . . ii. 334 
 Fanatics, Rome knows how to use . ii. 314 
 Faraday . . . i. 107 ; ii. 287, 408 
 Farquhar, Lady . . . . ii. 220 
 
 Farren i. 396, 415 
 
 Miss ii. 493 
 
 Fault-finders . . . . i. 288 
 *' Faust,-- Completion of . . . ii. 170 
 performed in celebration of Goethe's 
 birthday . . . . ii. 115 
 
 Flanagan ii. .30 
 
 Fawcett .... i. 384, 388 
 Feast of the Vigil of St. Peter and St. 
 
 Paul ii. 131 
 
 Fechter at Miss Coutts-s . . . ii. 475 
 
 Feebleness ii. 490 
 
 Fees . i. a96 
 
 of the Bar .... i 400 
 
 Fell, Mr ii. 321 
 
 Fellows, Sir C. . . ii. 283, 304, 350 
 
 Fenner, Mr. i. 8, 216, 413 ; ii. 77, 354 ; 
 
 Appendix, 515 
 
 Fenner Mrs. . i. 8, 44 ; Appendix, 615 
 Fenner's school . . . . i. 7 
 
 Fenwick, Mrs i 224 
 
 Miss ii. 271,273,290, 319, 359,397 
 
 atRydal . . . . ii. 308 
 Ferguson of Pitfour . . . . ii. 34 
 Ferguson's parliamentary experience ii. 34 
 
 Fernow i. 210 
 
 Festival of the Virgin . . . i. 44 3 
 
 of Corpus Domini . . . ii. 1:^9 
 Fete of flowers at Genzano . . ii 130 
 Fichte . i. 57, 84, 88, 103, 129, 195, 244, 
 
 H. C. R. as 
 
 Fichtelgebirge, The 
 '•Fidelity" 
 Field, Barron 
 
 271.291 
 
 . i.' 129 
 
 i. 76 
 
 . i. 343 
 
 i. 238, 241, 310, 313; 
 
 ii. 76, 210, 326, 32/ 
 
 - E. W. Preface, xiv. ; ii 229. 344, 
 351, 354, 355, 356, 358, 359, 360, 334, 
 367, 372, 406, 410, 422, 429, 473, 475, 
 
 476, 478, 485 
 
 - George . . . . ii. 346, 492 
 
 - Leonard . . . . ii. 483 
 
 - Rev. W. ... ii 17, 282 
 . i. 308 ; ii. 166 
 
 . ii. 114 
 
 . ii. 168 
 
 ii. 119, 121, 123 
 
 . ii. 137 
 
 . ii. 124 
 
 i. 328 
 
 . ii. 113 
 
 . ii. 284 
 
 . ii. 489, 498 
 
 ii. 58 
 
 . ii. 232 
 
 Fielding, Copley 
 Ilenry . 
 
 Filangieri 
 Finch, Mr. 
 
 Death of 
 Mrs. 
 
 Miss . 
 
 Finkenstein, Grafinn 
 
 Fisher, Dr. . 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 Fitzwilliam, Lord . 
 
 Flaherty scholarship 
 
 Flaxman i. 34, 201, 205, 210, 215, 229, 240, 
 
 242, 253, 272, 278, 294, 295, 303, 332, 339, 
 
 387, 395, 428, 480, 487, 493, 494, 495 ; 
 
 ii. 7, 8, 14, 20, 23, 26. 44, 74, 75, 81, 98, 
 
 110, 121, 479 
 
 Blake on ii. 69 
 
 Death of ii- 69 
 
 on animal magnetism . . i. 467 
 on architecture . . . i. 294 
 
 on Canova i. 411 
 
 on Dutch sculpture . . i. 323 
 on the Elgin marbles . . i. 254 
 on Lawrence . . . . i. 275 
 on phrenology . . . . ii. 30 
 en Reynolds . . . . ii. 3 
 on Swedenborg . . . . i. 493 
 
 on AVest i. 331 
 
 on Wordsworth's " Excursion " i. 298 
 
 Piety of i. 414 
 
 Statesmen in company with . i. 473 
 Two evenings with . , i. 454 
 
 Flaxman's belief in spirits . . i. 494 
 Dante .... . i. 205 
 dislike of Southey . . . ii. 23 
 dogmatism . . . . i. 369 
 
 funeral ii. 69 
 
 Italian notes .. . . . ii. 162 
 lectures on sculpture . i 206, 382 
 lodgings in Rome . . ii. 144 
 
 Party at i. 201 
 
 religiousness . . > i. 457 
 
 shield of Achillea . . . i. 493 
 
INDEX. 
 
 531 
 
 Flaxman's works . . ii. 211, 364 
 
 works at Lord Bristol's . . ii. 98 
 works taken from Basinghall Street 
 
 ii. 356 
 
 Flaxman Fund . . . . ii. 504, 505 
 
 Gallery ii. 70, 355, 363, 385, 403, 404, 
 
 423, 442 
 
 Mrs. i. 201, 205, 225, 294, 312, 323 
 
 Death of i. 428 
 
 Illness of .... i. 294 
 
 Miss i. 136, 138, 192, 201, 227, 241, 
 
 243,293; ii. 24, 161, 407 
 
 Death of ii. 182 
 
 Flaxmans, The 1. 267, 309, 312, 473 ; ii. 16 
 
 Flaxman, Dr i. 495 
 
 Flemings, The . . . . i. 338 
 
 Fletcher ii. 176 
 
 Angus . . . . ii. 383 
 
 Mrs. . ii. 321, 331, 334, 383, 352 
 
 of Saltoun . . . i. 460 
 
 Fleury i. 290 
 
 Flood, Mr ii. 50 
 
 Florence .... ii. 132, 150, 249 
 Flower, Benjamin . . i. 20, 23, 37 
 
 E. F ii. 482 
 
 Mrs ii. 482 
 
 Fog, A . . . . . . ii. 437 
 
 Follen, Mrs ii. 391, 401 
 
 FoUower, A, of Christ . . . ii. 439 
 Fonblauque . . . . . ii. 167 
 Foutainebleau, The chateau at . i. 449 
 
 Foote i. 7 
 
 Anecdote of . . . , i. 221 
 
 Miss ii. 493 
 
 Forbes, Erskine . . . . ii. 355 
 Fordham, E. King . . i. 23, 146 
 
 xMrs. J i. 490 
 
 Fordhams, The . . i. 23, 40 ; ii. 332 
 
 ... i. 387 
 
 ii. 419 
 
 . ii. 212, 345, 355 
 
 i. 25 
 
 . i. 31 
 
 i. 355 
 
 . ii. 440,483 
 
 . ii. 9, 82, 440 
 
 . i. 366,369 
 
 . ii. 156 
 
 i. 39, 40, 146, 186, 187, 205, 270, 
 
 302, 405 
 
 George i. 197 
 
 W.J .... ii. 171 
 
 Foxhow . . . . . ii 383 
 
 Franchise, Enlargement of . . ii, .378 
 Francis (of Colchester) . i. 10, 12, 14, 317 
 Franciscan monks . . . ii. 148 
 Frankfort . . . . i. 46, 132, 391 
 Conductor at . . . . ii. 201 
 
 Journey to i. 394 
 
 Life in i. 49 
 
 Old friends at . . . . ii. 99 
 
 Franklin, General . . i. 241 ; ii. 73 
 
 Franklin, Sir John i. 202, 242 ; ii. 1, 5, 15 
 
 Marriage of . . . . i. 242 
 
 Mrs i.242; ii. 15 
 
 Fraser, Rev. Peter i. 187,188,218,222,303, 
 
 381, 387 ; ii. 296 
 
 Frederick, King of Prussia . i. 135, 139 
 
 Free, Dr 1355,356 
 
 Fortescue 
 Forthcomingness 
 Forster 
 Forum, The . 
 Foster, Ebenezer 
 Serjeant 
 
 Fo.ss 
 
 Fouque 
 Fourier 
 Fox, C. J 
 
 Edward 
 Henry 
 
 French, Mr i. 493 
 
 French antipathy towards the English i. 282 
 arms, Progress of . . . i. 153 
 Bar and solicitors . ii. 10, 11 
 
 comedy i. 290 
 
 courts of justice . . . i. 289 
 
 honesty i. 283 
 
 judges . . . . . ii. 10 
 
 law against seditious articles . ii. 80 
 poetry . . . . . i. 484 
 Revolution . . . i. 9, 10, 35 
 service, Italian officers in the . i. 163 
 The, at Frankfort . . . i. 47 
 The, at Hochheim . . . i 49 
 Frend, William . i. 239 ; ii. 259, 424, 472 
 
 Death of ii. 291 
 
 I Frere, Mr i. 177, 178 
 
 Serjeant . . . i. 413 ; ii. 355 
 
 Frere's " Aristophanes " . . i. 363 
 Friedland, Battle of . . . . i. 153 
 
 Friendship . . . . . . i. 275 
 
 Jeremy Taylor on . . . i. 280 
 Fries, Professor . i. 84, 85, 109, 137, 393 
 
 Frith ii. 30 
 
 Froriep, Professor . . . i. 367, 368 
 
 Froude ii. 303 
 
 Fry, Mrs i. 383 ; ii. 438 
 
 Fulton i. 146 
 
 Fuseli . i. 198, 205, 213, 275, 384 ; ii. 74 
 
 Anecdote of . . . . i. 196 
 
 Future state, A . . . . ii. 273 
 
 Gage, John ii. 181 
 
 Gainsborough . . . . ii. 94 
 
 Excursion to . . . . ii. 375 
 
 Gairdner, James . . Preface, xviii; 
 
 Galicia i. 182 
 
 Gall .... i. 140, 276; ii. 30 
 and Spurzheim . . . . i. 141 
 
 Gait, John i. 331 
 
 Game Law case . . . . i. 352 
 preserving . . . . ii. 186 
 
 Garcia i. 184 
 
 Garnham i. 63 
 
 Garrick i. 214, 215 
 
 Anecdote of . . . . i. 221 
 Garrison, W. L. . , . ii. 331 
 
 Garrow i. 18, 265 
 
 about himself . . . i. 483, 484 
 
 Garwood ii. 9 
 
 Gaskell, Mrs. Daniel . . . ii. 281 
 
 Mrs. W. . . . ii. 287, 390 
 
 Gay i.l39 
 
 Gazelee ii. 17 
 
 Geckhausen, Fraulein von i. 119, 134, 138 ; 
 
 ii. 112 
 
 Geddes, Dr i. 41, 73, 100 
 
 Gemmi, Echo upon the . . • i. 447 
 
 Geneva i. 448 
 
 Genius, A, among politicians . . ii. 44 
 Gentz, Frederick . . . . i. 73 
 Geramb, Baron . . . . ii. 13 
 German artists at the Exhibition (1851) 
 
 ii. 410 
 baronial court . . ii 102 
 
 ideas of religious freedom . . ii 197 
 life. Contemplated narrative of ii. 497 
 
 literature i 102 
 
 manners, Change in . . ii 414 
 
532 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 German students . . . . i. 95 
 thought not comprehended . ii. 226 
 war ii. 497 
 
 Germans and Italians . . . ii. 253 
 
 George IV ii. 109 
 
 his voyage to Scotland . . i. 477 
 
 Georges, Mademoiselle . . . i. 365 
 
 Gerstendorf, FrJiulein . . . i. 59, 60 
 
 Ghost stories i. 495 
 
 Gibbon and Schlegel compared . i. 430 
 
 Gibbs, Chief Justice . 
 
 Gibson (sculptor), Talk with 
 
 Thomas .... 
 
 T. F 
 
 Giessen 
 
 Gififord, Captain 
 
 i. 358, 
 
 400 1 
 
 . ii. 
 
 245 
 
 . ii. 
 
 466 
 
 . ii. 
 
 389 
 
 . i. 
 
 79 
 
 . ii. 
 
 IT 
 
 Lord i. 358, 361, 372, 384, 413 ; ii. 9 
 
 Gil, Don Padre i. 184 
 
 Gilbert, Davies . . . . ii. 87 
 Gilchrist . Preface, xiii. i. 192 ; ii. 24 
 
 Gilman . . . i. 334, 351, 364 ; ii. 358 
 
 Gilmans, The i. 486 
 
 Girt, Mrs. . . . . . i. 4 
 
 Gladstone . . . ii. 272, 278, 330, 332 
 
 on Church and State . . ii. 272 
 
 Gleig, Chaplain-General . ii. 424 
 
 Mademoiselle . . . ii. 115 
 
 Gleim i. 139 
 
 Glenelg, Lord ii. 377 
 
 Glover, Mrs i. 274, 328 
 
 Goddard . . . . i. 435 ; ii. 429 
 Accident to .... i. 438 
 
 Death of 1. 438 
 
 Sister of i. 439 
 
 Wordsworth's elegiac poem on . i. 438 
 
 Godfrey, Rev. Mr. . . . i. 405 
 
 Godwin, William i. 20, 23, 29, 30, 31, 33, 
 
 34, 191, 196, 208, 222, 227, 239, 269, 270, 
 
 315,351,369,404,494; ii. 375 
 
 Difficulties of . . . i. 492 
 
 on French politics . . . i. 314 
 
 Opinion of, on the war . . i. 314 
 
 on sepulchres . . . . ii. 407 
 
 and Wordsworth . . . i. 331 
 
 Godwin's, Company at . . . i. 381 
 
 Party at . . . . i. 408 
 
 Political Justice . . 1. 20, 117 
 
 Goethe i. 15, 45, 55, 58, 59, 71, 72, 73, 74, 
 
 75, 77, 83, 87, 102, 103, 108, 109, 120, 129, 
 
 133, 135, 138, 196, 201, 250, 254, 271, 334, 
 
 364, 366, 389, 391, 392, 393, 395, 470 ; 
 
 ii. 19, 67, 103, 108, 111, 116, 122, 131, 197, 
 
 198, 199, 200, 212, 214, 235, 302, 320, 369, 
 
 395, 413, 451, 465, 480 
 
 Autobiography of . . . i. 302 
 
 Botany of ii. 193 
 
 ** Briefwechsel mit einem Kinde " 
 of . . . . i. 133; ii. 201 
 
 and Burns ii. 105 
 
 Carnival at Rome, sketched from 
 
 nature by . . . ii. 106, 107 
 Conversations with . ii. 105, 106 
 Death of . . . ii. 170, 171, 172 
 Description of . . . ii. 105 
 
 Distich by i. 138 
 
 Epigrams by . . . i. 114 
 
 Five evenings with . . . ii- 110 
 Funeral of . . . ii 172 
 
 H. C. R. on . ii. 174 
 
 Goethe, Home life of . . . 
 
 House and rooms of . 
 
 and Klopstock 
 
 Last sight of . . 
 
 Medal presented by, to H. C. R. 
 
 Monument of, at Frankfort 
 
 Mother of ... . 
 
 on Byron . . . ii. 107, 108, 
 
 on Byron's " Vision of Judgment " 
 ii. 108, 
 
 on the church . . . . ii. 
 
 onH. C.R ii. 
 
 on Milton's " Samson Agonistes " 
 
 ii. 
 
 on Napoleon's taste . . . ii. 
 
 on optimism . . . . i. 
 
 on Ossian ii. 
 
 on Rome . . . . ii. 
 
 on Schiller ii. 
 
 on the students' quarrel with the 
 authorities . . . . i. 
 
 on " Venice Preserved " . i. 
 
 on Walter Scott . . . ii. 
 
 realist, a . . . . ii. 
 
 Reported death of . . . ii. 
 
 the greatest man of modem times 
 
 ii 
 
 Translating from . . . i. 
 
 Visits to ii. 
 
 Goethe's "Dichtung und Wahrheit " 
 i. 252, 491, 
 
 Dinner at i. 
 
 " Faust," Completion of . ii. 
 
 "Iphigenia" . . . . i. 
 
 " Natural Daughter " 
 
 son's album 
 
 son a Buonapartist 
 
 son, Death of 
 
 wife 
 
 works catalogued 
 
 zest in living . 
 Goethe, Fran Rathinn 
 Goldau . 
 Goldoni 
 Goldsmid 
 
 Sh- F. . 
 
 Miss . 
 
 Sir Lyon 
 
 Goldsmith 
 
 Anecdote of 
 
 Tradition of . 
 Golightly . 
 Gondolier chanting 
 Gooch, Dr. 
 Good and bad spirits 
 Good, Mason . 
 Gooden, Alexander 
 
 James . . ii. 89, 193, 
 
 Goodness and goodyness 
 Gordon 
 
 Sir — 
 
 Gores, The 
 Gbrres . 
 
 Gospel of progress . 
 Gossip about Germany 
 Gothic, Modern 
 Gottenburg . 
 Gotthard, St. . 
 Gottingen 
 
 i. 7! 
 
 . 1. 
 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 
 ii. 423, 
 
 ii. 
 
 . ii. 
 
 i. 
 
 . i 
 
 . n. 
 
 ii. 
 276, 
 
 ii. 
 . i. 
 
 ii. 
 296, 
 
 ii- 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 
 105 
 105 
 198 
 171 
 
 80 
 413 
 
 78 
 109 
 
 109 
 105 
 110 
 
 109 
 106 
 121 
 106 
 132 
 110 
 
 122 
 121 
 198 
 107 
 157 
 
 157 
 
 201 
 104 
 
 492 
 
 121 
 
 170 
 
 72 
 
 122 
 
 139 
 139 
 122 
 171 
 302 
 121 
 440 
 
 87 
 295 
 494 
 378 
 267 
 409 
 409 
 458 
 335 
 252 
 421 
 360 
 276 
 291 
 476 
 230 
 
 68 
 
 64 
 237 
 196 
 433 
 487 
 488 
 168 
 441 
 
 56 
 
INDEX. 
 
 533 
 
 Gottsched. . . . . .1.129 
 
 Gotzenberger . . . ii. 74, 131, 149 
 Goulburn, Commissioner . . ii. 356 
 Gould, Nathaniel . . . . i. 336 
 
 Gower, Lord Leveson . . . ii. 106 
 
 Gozzi i. 134 
 
 Gracious melancholy, A . . . ii. 3dl 
 
 Grafif i. 74 
 
 Graham, Baxon i. 302, 355,356, 430 ; ii. 86, 
 
 87,111 
 
 Sir James . . . ii. 423, 424 
 
 Grahame,Mr. . . i. 404, 405, 462 
 
 James i. 462 
 
 ''Sabbath" . . 1.404,432 
 
 Tom i. 463 
 
 Grandison, Sir Charles . . 1. 476 
 
 Granet i. 287 
 
 Grant, Sir W 1. 397 
 
 Granville, Dr ii. 447 
 
 Grattan Ii. 58, 61 
 
 Anecdote of . . . . i. 404 
 
 and the independence of Ireland ii. 50 
 
 Grave thoughts in old age . ii. 346, 347 
 
 Gravelli i. 421 
 
 Graves, Mr ii. 412 
 
 Gray i. 13, 73, 194 
 
 Gray's letters i. 433 
 
 Great rule of true criticism . . ii. 375 
 Greatest good of greatest number . ii. 418 
 
 Green, Dr ii. 383 
 
 J. H i. 360, 334 
 
 Hunterian oration by . ii. 354 
 
 Greens, The ii. 6 
 
 Gregoire, Abbe . . . i. 283, 333 
 -- *y,Lord . . 1.22,407; ii. 344 
 
 t>ries i. 101 
 
 Griesbach 1. 101, 128 
 
 Griesbach's widow . . . i. 393 
 
 Madame, Garden . . .1. 393 
 
 Grigby, Mr i. 21 
 
 Griilparzer . . . . .1. 392 
 Grimm ...... ii. 193 
 
 Baron . . . . . ii. 393 
 
 Jacob . . . . ii. 410 
 
 Grimma 1. 58, 68 
 
 Grote 1. 398 ; ii. 492 
 
 Grove on novelty . . . . ii. 481 
 Growing old, Rogers on . . ii. 308 
 Guide, The extortionate . . . i. 433 
 Guido's "Aurora" . . . ii. 121 
 Gunn, Mr. . . i. 294, 295; ii. 170 
 Gurney, Baron . . i. 302, 382, 399 
 
 ' Hudson . ii. 33, 34, 87, 89, 95 
 
 J.J ii. 33 
 
 Gurney's recollections . . . ii. 180 
 Guy on, Madame . . . . i. 197 
 
 H., Mr., Farce of . . . . 1. 148 
 Haarlem, Organ at . . . i. 321 
 
 Haldane, Mr ii. 284 
 
 Halford, Sir Henry ... I 401 
 
 Halked i. 34 
 
 HaU, Eev. Robert I. 23, 27, 30, 43, 213, 
 
 228, 230 
 Bonsmotsof. . . . ii. 203 
 
 Hallam ii. ^53 
 
 Haller, Von i. 132 
 
 Hallet.Mr. i. 326 
 
 HaUstadt ii. 254 
 
 Hallucination, Curious 
 Hamburg 
 Hamilton, Count 
 
 Mr. (bookseller) 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth 
 
 Sir W. 
 
 . i. 322 
 
 . 1. 45, 157, 158 
 
 . i. 139 
 
 . ii. 78 
 
 . i. 246 
 
 i. 462 
 
 Hamond, Elton i. 240, 250, 255, 259, 261, 
 
 276, 279, 288, 354, 372, 382, 388, 
 
 406, 417 
 
 Character and characteristics of i. 417, 
 
 419 
 
 Death of i. 417 
 
 Early life of . . . . i. 417 
 
 Friends of i. 418 
 
 Inquest on .... i. 420 
 papers and letters, Extracts from 
 
 his . . . . i. 423, 424, 425 
 Southey on . . . . i. 421 
 Story of, worthy of record . i. 422 
 
 Miss i. 328 
 
 Hamond's belief regarding himself, i, 418 
 
 Hampden, Dr. . . ii. 296, 335, 335 
 
 Consecration of . . . . ii. 337 
 
 Hampstead . . . . i. 255 ; ii. 487 
 
 ''Hamlet" ... . . . i. 48 
 
 i. 282 
 
 i. 176 
 . . . ii.lU 
 
 . ii. 476,478 
 
 . i. 170 ; ii. 281 
 
 ii. 220, 272, 275, 276 
 
 i. 355 
 
 . ii. 299 
 
 . i. 17, 26, 34 
 
 . i. 136 
 
 . ii. 279 
 
 i. 136, 187 ; 
 
 on the French stage 
 Hancock, Captain . 
 Handel .... 
 Hansard, Rev. S. 
 Hardcastle, Mr. . 
 Hardens, The . 
 Harding, George . 
 Hardwick .... 
 Hardy, Thomas . 
 Hare, Bishop . 
 
 Francis 
 
 Julius (Archdeacon) 
 
 ii. 19, 190, 224, 357, 365, 397, 398, 426, 
 
 428, 501 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. . . . i 136 
 
 Harley (actor) . ... . i. 326, 328 
 
 Mr. , of Yarmouth . . i. 27 
 
 Robert . . . . i. 374 
 
 Harness, Rev. W. ii. 295, 296,304, 377, 476 
 Harrison, Mr. . . . . ii. 384 
 
 Johnny . . . . ii. 390 
 
 Harrisons, The . . . . ii. 220 
 
 Harrowby, Lord . . . . i. 473 
 
 1 Hart, Mr. . i. 267, 304, 397 ; ii. 70, 339 
 
 i Hartley, David . . i. 73, 90, 91, 200 
 
 I M. P i. 323 
 
 i Harvey, Portrait of, by Fisher . ii. 492 
 I Harz Mountains . . . . i. 57 
 
 ' Hasted ii. 403 
 
 I Hastings, Warren . . . i. 385 
 I Hats, The wrong . . . . ii. 354 
 
 Hawkins ii. 30, 374 
 
 Haydon i. 264, 314, 384, 385, 431 ; ii. 15 
 Hay-s, W., Essay on Deformity . ii- 41 
 
 Hays, Mary i. 37, 41 
 
 Hayter .... i. 458', ii. 19 
 Hazlitt, John . . . . i. 41, 44 
 
 William i. 41, 192, 275. 278, 309, 
 
 313, 315, 325, 350, 383, 492 ; ii. 224 
 Evening with . . •. i- 208 
 Father and mother of , . i. 44 
 H. C. R.'s acquaintance with, 
 
 ends 1.352 
 
 at Lamb's i. 296 
 
534i 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Hazlitt, Lecture by, on Shakespeare and 
 
 JNlilton i. 380 
 
 on Cervantes . . . . i. 382 
 
 on the novehsts . . . i. 308 
 
 on NVordsworth . . * i. 382 
 
 Hazlitt's Buonjipartism . . . i. 306 
 
 '' Conversations of Northcote " ii. 167 
 
 compared with Boswell's 
 
 "Johnson" . . ii. 167 
 
 lectures . . . i. 236, 238, 244 
 
 Healing art, The . . . . ii. 99 
 
 Heart of Switzerland . . . i 440 
 
 Heavenly treasure in earthen vessels ii. 458 
 
 Heber ii. 8 
 
 Hedge School, A . . . . ii. 52 
 
 Hegel i. 83 ; ii. 84 
 
 Heidelberg, Castle of. Dinner at . ii. 100 
 Talks at . . . . 11. 199, 348 
 
 Visit to ii. 195 
 
 ^Heligoland . . . . . i. 45 
 Helwig, Frau von . . 1. 166, 187 
 
 Hemsterhusius ii. 199 
 
 Henderson, Dr 11. 94, 97 
 
 Henry, Mr. . . . . . 1. 6 
 
 Hensel . . . . . . Ii. 480 
 
 Herbert, J. R., R. A. . , . Ii. 470 
 
 . Lord 1. 190 
 
 Sidney ii. 424 
 
 Herder 1. 69, 73, 98, 99, 115, 127, 129, 
 
 135 ; 11. 7, 110, 198 
 
 Madame . . . . ii. 198 
 
 Hereditary Princess of Saxe- Weimar 1. 136 
 ** Hermann and Dorothea" . .11.182 
 
 Hern 11. 186 
 
 "Herodotus" 1. 469 
 
 Hervey . . . . • . 1. 172 
 
 Lord Arthur . . . .11. 434 
 
 Hessey 11. 9 
 
 Hexameters Ii. 384 
 
 Heyne, Christian Llbericht . i. 104, 108 
 Hey wood, James . 11. 283, 345, 358, 337 
 
 Hibbert, G i. 332 
 
 Hildebrand i. 61 
 
 Hill ii. 374 
 
 Tom ii. 89 
 
 Hill's, Mr. Joseph, H. C. R. clerk at 1. 24, 27 
 Hilton . . . . 1. 247 ; 11. 19 
 History, H. C. R. on . . . 1. 212 
 Hoare, Mrs., of Hampstead . . Ii. 443 
 Hobhouse . . . . . 1. 404 
 
 Hogarth i. 130, 217 
 
 Hogg . . . . . 1. 351 ; ii. 14 
 Hohenfels, Baron ... 1. 53, 317 
 Holcroft . . i. 20, 34, 35, 210 
 
 Holland, Dr i. 242 
 
 Lord . . . . 1. 414; ii. 84 
 
 Lord and Lady 1. 177, 178, 179 
 
 Stillness and seclusion of its in- 
 habitants i. 320 
 
 Hollanders 1. 321 
 
 Hollist, Mr. . • . . . . 1. 262 
 
 Holm Rook 1. 345 
 
 Holzschuher, Herr von . . 1. 129 
 Hone, William . . i. 358 ; 11. 23, 141 
 his first trial .... 1. 373 
 his defence . . . .1. 374 
 'his second trial . . . 1. 375 
 his third trial . . . i. 875, 376 
 Honorable infidelity ... 11. 215 
 
 I 'Hood, T il.298,.308 
 
 Hook, Theodore . i.- orw 
 
 I Hooker, Mrs. 
 
 ! Hooper . 
 
 I Hope, Mr. 
 
 j on for liberty . 
 
 j Hoper-s, Mr., H. C. R. clerk at 
 
 I Home . 
 
 j Horner, Leonard 
 
 I Horrocks 
 Miss 
 
 Hotham, Captain . 
 
 How evil reports arise and -spread 
 
 to receive a parental assault 
 Howard (artist) 
 
 Lord and Lady Edward 
 
 the philanthropist 
 Hlibner, Professor 
 "Hudibras" . 
 Hufeland 
 Hughes, T. 
 Humboldt and Napoleon 
 
 and Voigt . 
 Hume .... 
 
 David . . 1. J 
 
 Joseph 
 
 n. 
 . 11. 66 
 
 i. 358 
 205, 411 
 
 ii. 417 
 
 1. 24, 25 
 
 i. 384 
 
 . i. 26 
 
 Hundieby 
 
 . 1.437 
 
 1. 174 
 . ii. 40 
 
 ii. 263 
 . ii. 70 
 
 ii. 424 
 . 1.836 
 
 1. 62 
 . 1.188 
 110, 141 
 . ii. 476 
 
 1. 140 
 . 11. 288 
 
 1. 349 
 ,215,244; 11.26 
 ii. 14, 247, 423 
 
 Hunt 
 
 Leigh 
 
 Hunter 
 
 369, 373, 383, 397, 475, 470 ; 
 
 ii. 24 
 
 1. 267, 347, 350, 388, 404, 411 
 
 1.238,241,264,273,383,450, 
 
 492; ii. 176, 20a 
 
 ii. 387 
 
 1. 82 
 
 John . 
 Joseph . 
 
 Death of 
 Lord Mayor . 
 
 Huntingdon, Lady 
 Huntington, William 
 Huskisson 
 Hussites, The . 
 Hutchinson . 
 
 Junior . 
 
 Miss . 1.310,348 
 
 Hutchison, Miss 
 Hutton, Mr. . 
 
 Dr. . 
 
 Joseph 
 
 Miss 
 
 Richard 
 
 ,378 
 
 Hypochondria 
 
 Icanrenaud, Madame . 
 
 Iffland . . 
 
 Illuminati . . . 
 
 Illumination of St. Peter's 
 
 Imagination of the divine vision 
 
 Imagination, The truly poetical 
 
 Imhoff, Amelia von 
 
 Immortality, a parte ante 
 
 Incledon 
 
 Journey with 
 
 Son of . . . 
 
 Increase of fees . 
 
 of sympathies In age 
 
 Indian legend . 
 
 " Indicator," The . 
 
 Indolence defined 
 
 Influence of individualfl 
 
 486 
 
 ii. 304 
 ii. 475 
 ii. 4?3 
 ii. 314 
 
 i. 258 
 11. 185, 191 
 
 i. 64 
 
 i. 330 
 ii. 258 
 ii. 212 
 
 i. 3'^7 
 343,345 
 ii. 391 
 ii. 372 
 ii. 373 
 ii. 475 
 
 i. 322 
 
 ii. 295 
 104, 143 
 
 1.124 
 ii. 131 
 ii. 76 
 ii. 292 
 
 1. 165 
 
 1.411 
 210, 220 
 
 i. 221 
 Ii. 97 
 
 1. 410 
 11. 319 
 1.244 
 1. 450 
 11.395 
 11.396 
 
 I 
 
INDEX. 
 
 535 
 
 n. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 195, 
 . i. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Influence of national character on na- 
 tional destiny .... ii, 
 Inglis, Sir R. . . ii. 206, 330, 331, 
 
 Initials ii. 
 
 Insurance cause . . . . ii. 
 Insurrection in the. Legations . ii. 
 Interest in speculations . . . ii. 
 Interference of the State in rehgion ii. 
 Internal conviction . . . . ii. 
 
 evidence ii. 
 
 Intolerance, Is it inherent in Roman 
 Catholicism? 
 
 of Roman Catholicism 
 Intolerances .... 
 Invalid on the healthy- 
 Ireland, On .... 
 Iremonger, Mrs. 
 Irenics, not polemics . 
 Irish anecdotes . 
 Irish Bar .... 
 
 Catholics Bourbonites 
 
 Church .... 
 a casus belli . 
 the rock ahead . 
 
 heroes 
 
 hut 
 
 jollification 
 
 piper .... 
 
 poor .... 
 
 prescription . 
 Irving, Edward i. 491 ; ii. 5, 7, 10, 21, 
 
 Appearance of . . . i. 
 
 Belief of, in a shortly coming mil- 
 lennium . . . . ii. 
 
 Conversation of . . . . ii. 
 
 Doctrine of . . . • j- 
 
 Intolerance of . . . . ii. 
 
 on the eternity of future punish- 
 ment ii. 
 
 on intellectual and spiritual man i. 
 
 on repeal of Test Act . . ii. 
 
 Preaching of . i. 489, 490 ; ii. 
 
 reserves quiet for study . . i. 
 
 and Robert Hall . , . ii 
 
 Sermon of, on Catholic emancipa- 
 tion . . . . . ii, 
 on Christianity and Paganism i. 
 
 and Wordsworth on points of theo- 
 logical difficulty . . . ii. 
 Irving's "Argument of Judgment to 
 
 Come *' ii. 
 
 Irving, Washington . . . i. 
 
 Isaacs, Mrs. Thomas . . . i. 
 
 The i. 
 
 Isle of Man ii. 
 
 In the, with Wordsworth . ii. 
 Isola, Miss . . . ii. 169, 174, 
 Italian Confederation ... ii. 
 Italian drama, The . . . ii. 
 
 dramas generally turn on judicial 
 proceedings . . . . ii. 
 
 image-seller .... i. 
 
 picture, a favorite of Lamb's . ii. 
 
 pictures . . . . i. 
 
 politics ,. . . . . ii. 
 
 receptions . . . . ii. 
 
 schemes for the future . . ii. 
 Italy ..... ii.ll7, 
 
 OS a residence . . ii. 
 
 195 
 371 
 
 404 
 59 
 147 
 441 
 233 
 347 
 408 
 
 Jackson ii. 483 
 
 Jacobi, Frederick i. 109,198,257,271; 
 
 ii. 198 
 Jacquelein, Madame de la Roche . i. 345 
 Jaffmy . . . ii. 77, 213, 255, 286 
 
 ! Arthur, Death of . 
 
 I Mrs. . 
 
 Jaffrays, The . 
 Jagermann , Mademoiselle 
 James, Miss 
 (Dixon) of Rydal ii. 
 
 50 
 
 442 
 
 187 
 
 411 
 
 205 
 
 444 
 
 60 
 
 46 
 
 55 
 
 210 
 
 206 
 
 194 
 
 377 
 
 53 
 
 63 
 
 53 
 
 45 
 
 62 
 
 479 
 
 488 
 
 43 
 2 
 
 490 
 42 
 
 3 
 
 490 
 83 
 24 
 
 492 
 3 
 
 491 
 
 1 
 
 384 
 22 
 15 
 189 
 189 
 175 
 154 
 153 
 
 153 
 339 
 252 
 332 
 154 
 144 
 154 
 147 
 162 
 
 ii. 489 
 
 ii 183 
 
 . ii. 226 
 
 i. 74, 98, 392 
 
 . ii. 214 
 
 366, 386, 478, 
 
 484, 485 
 
 ii. 321,322 
 
 . ii. 322 
 
 Early history of . 
 favorite, the, of fortune 
 ! Jameson . i. 152, 237, 243, 335, 356, 397 
 
 I Mrs ii. 429 
 
 I Jansenists i. 369 
 
 I Jardine i. 408 
 
 I Jay ii. 373 
 
 ! Jeffrey . . . i. 195, 296 ; ii. 2, 209 
 Jeffrey's reconsideration of Words- 
 worth's poems . . . . ii. 257 
 Jeffrey, Lord . . . . ii. 323 
 Jeffreys, Judge . . . . i. 432 
 
 Jeffries, Mr ii. 334 
 
 Jefferson i. 287 
 
 Jekyll ...... i. 401 
 
 Joke of, on judicial changes . i 401 
 Jelf,Dr. . . . ; ii. 434, 437 
 
 Jena i. 75, 134, 390 
 
 Burschen . . . . i. 110 
 Changes at . . . . i. 136 
 and Knebel . . . . ii. 101 
 
 Leaving i. 142 
 
 Matriculation at the University of 
 
 i. 80 
 
 University, Second session at . i. 105 
 
 Jenyns, Soame . . i. 280 ; ii. 458 
 
 Jerdan, Mr. . . . . * . ii. 42 
 
 Jerningham. Mr i. 206 
 
 Jerrold, Douglas . . . . ii. 425 
 Jew and Christian, Anecdote of . ii. 17 
 
 Jocelyn, Mrs ii. 467 
 
 Joddrel, Mrs i. 324 
 
 Johannes v. Miiller . . . i. 118 
 
 Johnson i. 21, 37, 41, 82, 204, 224, 245, 383 
 
 Dr. . . i. 394 ; ii. 37, 94, 313 
 
 the publisher . . . i. 37 
 
 and Cowper's " Task " 
 
 i. 245 
 
 — Under-sheriff at Cork . . ii. 47 
 
 Dinner with ii. 47 
 Jones, Captain . . . . ii. 266 
 
 John Gale. . . i. 24, 147 
 
 Mr ii. 244 
 
 ii. 70 
 
 . . . ii. 492 
 
 i. 136, 138 
 
 i. 219, 366 ; ii. 275 
 
 25, 354 ; ii. 179, 465 
 
 . i. 64 
 
 i. 287 ; ii. 103 
 
 . i. 66 ; ii. 295 
 
 . i. 122 
 
 ii. 378 
 
 . i. 302 
 
 R. A. 
 
 Rev. Harry 
 
 Sir W. 
 
 Jonson, Ben 
 Jordan, Mrs. 
 Joseph, Emperor 
 Josephine, Empress 
 Judaism .... 
 
 and Christianity 
 
 not an exclusive religion 
 Judges, Anecdotes of 
 Judicial examination of the accused in 
 France i. 289 
 
 changes i. 401 
 
536 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Julius, Dr i. 191 
 
 Jung, Hofrath . i. 395, 496 ; ii. 99, 199 
 
 Kalb, Frau von . . . . i. 112 
 
 Kant i. 59, 83, 103, 114, 146, 195, 201, 244, 
 
 249, 334, 350 ; ii. 8, 197, 225 
 
 A disciple of . . . . i. 882 
 
 Philosophy of . . i. 89, 90, 91-93 
 
 Kasper Hauser . . . . ii. 199 
 
 Kastner .... i. 279, 281, 293 
 
 Kastner . . . . ii. 118, 120 
 
 Kaufmann i. 159 
 
 Kaulbach ii. 255 
 
 Kaye i. 400 
 
 Kean, Edmund i. 299, 324, 325, 374, 384, 
 
 456 
 
 as Brutus i. 403 
 
 as Lear i. 430 
 
 as Macbeth . . . . i. 297 
 as Mortimer . . . . i. 351 
 
 as Othello i. 276 
 
 as Sir Giles Overreach . . i. 328 
 
 as Richard III i. 273 
 
 in " The Beggar's Bush " . i. 325 
 
 in " The Iron Chest " . . i. asi 
 
 in society . . . . i. 328 
 
 Keats . . . . i. 453 ; ii. 243 
 
 Keller i. 438 
 
 Kelly u. 367 
 
 Miss . i. 208, 217, 452, 458 ; ii. 79 
 
 Dramatic recollections of ii. 179 
 
 Kemble, Charles . i. 323, 388 ; ii. 197 
 
 on his brother and sister . ii. 432 
 
 Fanny ii. 446 
 
 John i. 53, 71, 242, 247, 274, 284, 
 
 297, 304, 384 ; ii. 21 
 
 in " Coriolanus " . . . i 147 
 
 in^'Pizarro" . . . . i. 38 
 
 Kemble's sale . . . . i. 456 
 
 Kemp ii. 403 
 
 Kennedy, Captain . . . i. 176 
 
 Colonel i. 178 
 
 Dr ii. 446 
 
 Mrs i. 176 
 
 Kenny ii. 335 
 
 Kenrick, John . . 1. 409 ; ii. 345, 409 
 
 Kents, The i. 388 
 
 Kenyon, John i. 452 ; ii. 227, 266, 280, 294, 
 
 304, 364, 425, 440, 451, 453, 480 
 
 Character and tastes of. ii. 456, 457 
 
 Death of ii. 456 
 
 Kenyon's disposal of property ii. 456, 457 
 "Rhymed Plea for Tolerance" 
 
 ii.464 
 Kenyon, Lord . . . i. 52, 386, 484 
 Keppel, A.dmiral .... i. 2 
 Ker, Bellenden . . . . ii. 171 
 Keswick . . . i. 339, 346 ; ii. 64 
 Key, Professor i . . . • ii. 437 
 
 Kilian i. 101 
 
 Killarney, Lakes of . . . ii. 50, 51 
 Kilmallock, Labor Market at . ii. 57 
 Kindness known by the voice . . ii. 294 
 King, Dr. ii. 408, 419, 429, 430, 431, 
 
 439 
 King's, Dr., speculations on moral evil 
 
 ii. 435 
 King of Sweden, Unpopularity of i. 166 
 Kinnaird ..... i 388 
 
 Kippis, Dr 1.243 
 
 Kirkconnel Lea . . . . i. 465 
 Kirkland, Mrs. . . . . i. 439 
 
 Kiss ii. 410 
 
 Kitchener, Dr ii. 42 
 
 — Mrs i. 322 
 
 Miss i. 41 
 
 Klopstock . i. 55, 73, 217, 253 ; ii. Ill 
 
 Knebel, Major von i. 126, 127, 128, 129, 
 
 134, 137, 139, 140, 142, 390, 393, 395 ; 
 
 ii. 81, 103, 170, 451 
 
 Early life of his wife . . . ii. 103 
 
 Family of .... i. 128 
 
 Family history of . . . ii. 103 
 
 H. C. R.'s attachment to . i. 394 
 
 Intimacy with . . . . i. 127 
 
 and Voigt . . . . i. 150 
 
 Bernard . . . ii. 101, 102 
 
 Madame von . . i. 390 ; ii. 102 
 
 Knebel's son Charles, Visit to . . ii. 102 
 
 Kneipe, The ii. 122 
 
 Knigge, Baron i. 125 
 
 Knights electing the Grand Assize ii. 33, 34 
 
 Knott, Rev. H ii. 451 
 
 Koe i. 279 
 
 Kohl, Madame ... . . . i. 56 
 
 Kblle . . . i. 75, 84 ; ii. 119, 121 
 
 Kdnigstein i. 63 
 
 Kotzebue i. 41,74,103,104,133,172,191; ii. 87 
 Krahl leaving Rome . . . . ii. 129 
 Kunigunda Savigny . . . ii. 411 
 
 Ladies' College . . . ii. 501 
 
 La Fayette .... i. 284, 314 
 on America . . . . i. 286 
 Anticipations of . . . i. 286 
 Buonaparte, relation to . i. 285 
 on the slave trade . . i, 284 
 
 La Harpe i. 365 
 
 Laing, David . . . . i. 461, 462 
 
 Lake Como ii. 250 
 
 Garda ii. 251 
 
 of Iseo ii. 251 
 
 poets and C. Lamb . . . ii. 357 
 Lakes, English and Scotch, compared 
 
 with those of Killarney . . ii. 400 
 "LallaRookh" . , . . i. 363 
 Lamb, Charles i. 20, 41, 114, 170, 172, 192, 
 193, 195, 197, 207, 208, 219, 229, 231, 237, 
 238, 242, 246, 260, 296, 299, 308, 309, 310, 
 311, 313, 315, 324. 329, 350. 377, 383, 384, 
 432 ; ii. 14, 15, 17, 23, 36, 74, 96, 109, 
 114, 158, 159, 257, 362, 465, 481, 494 
 
 The Aikins on . 
 
 . i.242 
 
 Album verses of . . . 
 
 ii. 182 
 
 " Ancient Dramatists," his 
 
 . ii. 480 
 
 Art, his love for . 
 
 i.404 
 
 and Mrs. Barbauld • 
 
 . ii. 6 
 
 Blue-coat School influence on 
 
 ii.224 
 
 Book borrowed from . 
 
 . ii. 41 
 
 at Cambridge .... 
 
 i. 4a3 
 
 Childlikeness of . 
 
 . i.334 
 
 at Coleridge's 
 
 ii. 6 
 
 Death of . . . 
 
 . ii.204 
 
 at Enfield ... 
 
 ii. 78 
 
 Epitaph on . . . 
 
 . ii. 214 
 
 Funeral of ... . 
 
 ii. 204 
 
 Genius of . 
 
 . ii.357 
 
 Grave of . . . . 
 
 U.258 
 
 II 
 
INDEX 
 
 537 
 
 Lamb, Charles, Hazlitt's portrait of 1. 236 
 Hoax and confession by . ii. 92, 93 
 India House left by . . ii. 19, 22 
 *' The Intruding Widow " by ii. 86 
 and Irving . . . . ii. 9 
 and Laudor . . . . ii 175 
 Letter to H. C. R. by . . i. 193 
 Letter to Southey by . . i. 492 
 Letters, new volume of his . ii. 359 
 Letters of, to AVordsworth . ii. 219 
 Letters to Wordsworth by . ii. 2J9 
 Library of . . . . ii. 1, 96 
 and Mary Lamb try the water sys- 
 tem i. 203 
 
 at Monkhouse's with Wordsworth, 
 
 Coleridge, Moore, and Rogers i, 485 
 
 Lamb's account of the dinner . . i. 486 
 
 Lamb on Blake . . . . ii. 27 
 
 on Blake's Catalogue . . ii. 75 
 
 on Coleridge . . i. 219, 238, 481 
 
 on Dignum and Mrs. Bland . i. 209 
 
 on the " Excursion " . . i. 296 
 
 on H. C. R.-s *' Great First Cause " 
 
 1.324 
 
 on Keats 1. 454 
 
 on "King John" . . . i. 224 
 on Lady Macbeth . . . i. 224 
 on his friend Manning . . ii. 7 
 on Paris sights . . . , i. 477 
 on ^' Peter Bell" . . . i. 251 
 on two poems by Wordsworth . ii. 464 
 on puns . . . . i. 214, 349 
 on punsters . . . . i. 216 
 on " Reynard the Fox '' . i. 211 
 on "Richard II." . . . i. 224 
 on Shakespeare . . . i. 224 
 on Southey "s " Kehama " . i. 204 
 
 on " Titus Andronicus" . i. 198 
 on the " Two Angry Women of 
 
 Abingdon "... ii. 297 
 on wit . . . . . i. 34.J 
 on Wordsworth and Coleridge i- 204 
 
 Piety of ii. 4 
 
 Portrait of . . . . ii. 465 
 portrait, sitting for . . . ii. 42 
 Prince Dorus, his story of . i. 211 
 Religiousness of . . . . i. 492 
 serious when tete-^-tete . i. 481 
 Talfourd introduced to Wordsworth 
 
 by i. 262 
 
 Talk with Talfourd about . . ii. 213 
 •' Triumph of the Whale "by i. 241 
 Two days with . . . ii. 9 > 
 Visit to, at Enfield . . ii. 79 
 
 and Wordsworth correspondence ii. 367 
 Wordsworth on . . . . ii. 214 
 Lamb's usual Christmas present of tur- 
 key from H. C. R. ... i. 377 
 Lamb, Mary i. 41, 197, 211, 224, 234, 298, 
 304, 328, 329, 352, 337, 396, 433, 476, 
 477 ; ii. 22, 79, 98, 204, 205, 214, 258. 
 282, 296, 307 
 Landor's opinion of " Mrs. Leices- 
 ter's School "by . . ii. 149 
 pension, her . , . . ii. 207 
 Funeral of . . . . ii. 355 
 Lambs, The i. 309, 404, 408, 452, 467 ; 
 ii. 14, 169, 217 
 their visit to France . . i. 476 
 
 23* 
 
 Lamb, The Honorable George . 
 
 . 1.404 
 
 The Honorable William . 
 
 i. 404 
 
 Lambert 
 
 . ii. 88 
 
 Lancaster, .Joseph . . i. 44, 
 
 227, 237 
 
 Landon, Miss .... 
 
 . ii. 42 
 
 Landor, W. S. ii. 19, 137, 138, 
 
 173, 175, 
 
 176, 194, 205, 229, 292, 
 
 456, 489 
 
 Attack on Wordsworth by . 
 
 ii. 234 
 
 Description of, in " Bleak House " 
 
 . 
 
 ii. 1.37 
 
 Dogmatism of , . . 
 
 ii. 139 
 
 History of . 
 
 . ii. 138 
 
 love for Lamb, his 
 
 ii. 162 
 
 on art . . . 
 
 . ii 139 
 
 on death of Coleridge and Goethe 
 
 
 ii. 194 
 
 on"Elia". 
 
 . ii. 162 
 
 on Flaxman .... 
 
 ii 174 
 
 on flowers . . . ii. 
 
 160, 257 
 
 on H. C. R. 
 
 . ii. 143 
 
 on the Italians 
 
 ii. 138 
 
 on the Lake poets 
 
 . ii. 162 
 
 on Mary Lamb 
 
 ii. 206 
 
 on " Mrs. Leicester's School " 
 
 . ii. 149 
 
 on pictures .... 
 
 ii. 227 
 
 on Schlegel 
 
 . ii. 178 
 
 Landor's dog Parigi . 
 
 ii. 150 
 
 Tuscan villa 
 
 . ii. 137 
 
 unlimited utterance, gift of . 
 
 ii. 137 
 
 Landseer, Sir Edwin 
 
 . i. 325 
 
 John, Lecture by 
 
 i. 325 
 
 Langhorne .... 
 
 . ii. 241 
 
 Languages, Foreign 
 
 i. 137 
 
 Lapse of memory . 
 
 . ii. 88 
 
 Lardner 
 
 ii. 237 
 
 Last Christmas day . 
 
 . ii. 501 
 
 continental journey 
 
 ii. 483 
 
 look at Rogers's house 
 
 . ii. 452 
 
 visit to the theatre 
 
 ii. 499 
 
 volume of the Diary begun 
 
 . ii. 494 
 
 Latitudinarian, A . . . 
 
 ii 376 
 
 clergyman, A . . . 
 
 . ii. 487 
 
 Latitudiuarianism 
 
 ii 445 
 
 La Trappe, walk to the monastery 
 
 . ii. 11 
 
 Laureate, The, commanded to Court ii 308 
 
 odes 
 
 . ii 309 
 
 The, at Court 
 
 ii 337 
 
 The, at home . 
 
 . i. 3iO 
 
 Laurie, Sir Peter .... 
 
 i. 488 
 
 Lavaggi i. 
 
 179, 186 
 
 H. C. R assists . 
 
 i. 182 
 
 Madame . i 179, 180, 
 
 184, 185 
 
 in London .... 
 
 i. 194 
 
 Lavalette 
 
 . i.330 
 
 Lavater i, 122 
 
 ; ii. 295 
 
 Laverna 
 
 . ii 248 
 
 Law, Anomalies of the . . ii. 353 
 
 as an instrument of oppression i. 329 
 
 of blasphemy . . . . i. 493 
 
 Lawrence, Archbishop . . . ii. 345 
 
 (schoolmaster) , . . i. 6 
 
 Sir T. . i. 215, 216, 220, 242, 387 ; 
 
 ii. 19, 20, 44, 70 
 
 W i. 452 
 
 Lawrence's picture of the Pattissons i, 220, 
 
 357 
 Lawyers bad judges on moral questions 
 
 ii asi 
 
 bad lawmakers . . . . ii. 265 
 
538 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Lawyers' dinner party . . . ii. 60 
 
 fees i. 400 
 
 Layard, A. H. . . . ii. 371, 400 
 as a boy . . . . ii. 422, 423 
 
 Lazzuroni ii. 1^6 
 
 Leach, Mr. T ii. 472, 476 
 
 Lease, Mr i. 3 
 
 Lease's, Mr. , school. . . . i. 6 
 Leblanc .... i. 353, 355 
 Le Breton, Rev. P. ii. 358, 468, 469, ^73 
 Lecture-room, Affair in . . i. 134 
 
 Leeds i. 348 
 
 Lees, Mr ii. 63 
 
 Legacy, Invaluable . . . . ii. 267 
 Legal subtlety, A . . . . i. 327 
 Legations in insurrection . . ii. 147 
 
 Legends ii. 248 
 
 Legitimation by subsequent marriage ii. 73 
 Le Grice, Valentine . . . , ii. 238 
 Anecdotes of . . . . ii. 239 
 Leibnitz . . . . i. 90, 200 ; ii. 23 
 Leipzig and Dresden . . . ii. 113 
 
 L. E. L ii. 42 
 
 Lennard, Mr ii. 43 
 
 Leonardo da Vinci . . . i. 333, 445 
 his celebrated picture . i. 445, 446 
 
 Leopardi ii. 154 
 
 Lepsius ii! 279 
 
 Le Sage i. 308 
 
 Leslie ii. 19 
 
 Lessing .... i. 66, 102, 172 
 
 bis " Nathan der Weise '' . i. 99 
 
 Letter from Arnold, Mrs., to H. C. R. ii. 356 
 
 Burney, Miss, to H. C. R. . . ii. 207 
 
 Byron, Lady, to H. C. R. ii. 431, 438, 
 
 443, 444, 445, 446, 448, 452, 454 
 
 Clarkson, Mrs., to H. C. R. . i. 223 ; 
 
 ii. 90, 190, 437 
 
 Coleridge to H C. R. I 231, 271, 362, 
 
 385 
 Denman, Miss, to H. C. R. . ii. 442 
 Dixon, .James, to H. C. R. . ii. 484 
 Donaldson to H. C. R. . . ii. 434 
 Estlin, Mr., to H. C. R. . ii. 361 
 
 Field, Barron, to H. C. R. ii. 326, 336 
 Hall, Robert, to II. C. R. . i. 30 
 Hamond to II. C. R. and others 
 
 i. 424, 427 
 
 Hamond to Coroner and Jury i. 427 
 
 H. C. R. to Benecke ii. 191, 209, 225 
 
 to Booth, James . ii. 297 
 
 to Clarkson, Mrs. i. 225, 226, 
 
 235 239 
 
 to Coleridge, H. N. . ii.' 232 
 
 to Collier, J. D. . i. 158 
 
 to Collier, Mrs. . . ii. 125 
 
 to Cookson, W. S. ii. 477, 491, 
 
 498, 501 
 
 to Fenwick, Miss ii. 304, 385, 
 
 399 
 
 to Field, E. W. . . ii. 492 
 
 to a Friend . . . ii. 337 
 
 to Hall, Rev. R. . i. 28 
 
 to Goethe . . . il. 80 
 
 to llabakkuk R. . i. 402 
 
 to Jones, Rev. H. . ii, 502 
 
 to Landor . . . ii. 234 
 
 to Masquerier ii. 187.215,289, 
 
 291 
 
 Letter from H. C. R. to Mottram, J., Junr. 
 
 ii. 459 
 
 to Pattisspn, W. ii. 127, 147, 
 
 154, 155 
 
 to Pattisson, Mrs. . i 280 
 
 to Paynter ii. 338, 379, 395, 
 
 . n Ml- 41^418,441,458 
 
 to Quilhnan . . . ji 313 
 
 to t^chunck, Mrs, . * ii 495 
 
 to Talfourd . . ij 375 
 
 to T. R. i. 12, 36, 38, 45, 46, 
 
 55, 72, 79, 86, 89, 92, 106, 
 
 128,136,150, 151, 168; 174 
 
 200, 230, 266, 376; ii. 144, 
 
 145, 149, 276, 290, 295, 302, 
 
 804,308,315,316, 319, 321, 
 
 333, 335, 343, 346, 349, 352 
 
 355,357,359, 360, 361, 362, 
 
 363,364,368,371, 372, 374 
 
 37S, 382, 384, 388, 392, 394 
 
 397, 399, 402, 403, 404, 406, 
 
 409, 418, 420, 421', 422, 424, 
 
 425,426,431,437, 439, 441, 
 
 455, 467 
 
 to Wordsworth i. 349: ii 91, 
 
 174, 212, 213, 239, 260, 265, 
 
 286, 293, 330, 331 
 
 to Wordsworth, Miss i. 202 ; 
 
 ii. 22, 35, 186 
 
 to Wordsworth, Mrs. ii. 317, 
 
 324, 327, 36(5, 3n9 
 
 King, Dr., to H. C. R. ii. 430, 432, 434, 
 
 435, 437, 440 
 
 Lamb, Charles, to H. C, R. i. 193 : 
 
 ii. 77, 92 
 Landor to H. C. R. ii. 149, 160, 162, 
 178, 194, 2.56 
 Lofft, Capel, to H. C. R. . . i. 234 
 Naylor, S, Junr., to H. C. R. ii. 170 
 Paynter to H. C. R. . . . ii. 430 
 Quillinan to II. C. R. ii. 308, 309, 315, 
 318, 322, 323, 376, 384, 387, 390, 391, 
 
 407 
 
 Savigny to II. C. R. . . i. 87 
 
 Southey to H. C. R i. 379, 421, 481 
 
 Southey to Hamond . . . i. 425 
 
 Talfourd to H. C. R. . . ii. 204 
 
 T. R. to H. C. R. . . 1. 51, 68 
 
 Voigt to II. C. R. . . . ii. 171 
 
 Wordsworth to II. C. R. i. 457 : ii. 94, 
 
 180, 211, 260, 264, 268, 281, 285. 287, 
 
 323 331 
 
 Wordsworth, Miss i. 192. 471 ; ii'. 163 
 
 Wordsworth, Mrs. , to II. C. R. ii. 405 
 
 Wurm, Dr., to H. C. R. . . ii. 84 
 
 L'Encios, Ninon de . . . i. 54 
 
 Lettsom, Dr ii. 9 
 
 Levesque ii. 284 
 
 Miss ii. 378 
 
 Levezow i. 159 
 
 Lewes, G. H.'s, **Life of Goethe" . i. 75 
 
 Lewis i. 328 
 
 Miss i. 363 
 
 "Monk" .... i. 72 
 
 Libel case, A ii. 40 
 
 Libel by II. C. R. in the Times . i. 415 
 Liberal enemies to liberty . . i. 483 
 expectations respecting the United 
 States ii. 308 
 
INDEX. 
 
 539 
 
 ii. 385 
 i. 79 
 i. 95 
 ii. 319 
 ii. 229 
 i. 64 
 i. 137 
 
 Liberal expectations respecting the 
 
 French Revolution . . ii. 368 
 
 Liberales, serviles . . . . ii. 349 
 Liberty endangered by the sincerely 
 
 religious ... 
 Liebig 
 
 Lieflander and Curlander 
 " Life in the Sick Room "' 
 Ligbtfoot 
 Ligne, Prince de 
 Liilo . . 
 Limitation to endowments for opinions 
 
 ii. 333 
 Lincoln, President, Assassination of ii 491 
 
 on slavery . . . . ii. 490, 491 
 Bishop of . . . . ii. 80 
 
 Cathedral V- ?^'^ 
 
 Lincolne, Mr. . . . . i. 5, 9 
 
 Lindiey, Dr ii. 193 
 
 Lindleys, The . . . . ii. 280 
 
 Lindsey, Theophilus . . . i. 246 
 Ling, Mrs. . . . . . i. 4 
 
 Linnaean Society, Dinner with , ii. 88 
 
 Linnaeus i. 215 
 
 Linnell, Mr ii. 24, 28, 76 
 
 Lister, Mrs. Daniel . . . ii. 259 
 Liston . i. 205, 209, 259, 373, 387, 388, 393, 
 415, 458 5 ii. 17, 42, 227 
 " Literary Gazette " . . . ii. 42 
 Literary work .... i. 231 
 
 Literati asleep i. 452 
 
 Littledale, Edward, i. 239, 377, 475; ii. 15, 
 
 Liverpool, Lord . . i. 378 ; ii. 20, 227 
 Lloyd, Gamaliel . . . i. 26, 191 
 
 William Horton . . i. 26 
 
 Locke . i. 14, 33, 70, 73, 82, 83, 89, 90, 
 107, 200 ; ii. 27, 29 
 
 Mr ii. 20 
 
 Lobo . . . . . . i. 186 
 
 Loder i. 82 
 
 Lockhart . . . . i. 313 ; ii. 284 
 Lofft, Capel . i. 18, 21, 26, 41, 234, 275, 
 
 315 ; ii. 349 
 Lombardy and the Austrian dominions 
 
 ii. 252 
 London University . . ii. 81,213 
 Londoners and bad French . . ii. 349 
 Long . . . i. 316, 326 ; ii. 30, 475 
 Longman's, Dinner at . . . i. 242 
 Lonsdale, Lord .... i. 267 
 Lord Mayor's dinner . . . i. 467 
 Lords, The, throw out the Reform Bill ii. 158 
 
 O'Connel counsel before the 
 
 . ii. 158 
 
 Loring, C. G., on Webster . 
 
 ii. 429 
 
 Lorraine, Claude 
 
 . i. 72 
 
 Loss of memory .... 
 
 ii. 419 
 
 Loughborough, Lord 
 
 . i. 216 
 
 Louis Philippe .... 
 
 i. 403 
 
 abdicates . 
 
 . ii. 339 
 
 Louis XVL . . . , . 
 
 i. 42, 149 
 
 Louise, Grand Duchess . 
 
 . ii. 112 
 
 Lover ii 
 
 207, 474 
 
 Lovere, Voyage to . . 
 
 . ii. 251 
 
 Lovegrove 
 
 i. 217 
 
 Lovell 
 
 . i.233 
 
 Mrs 
 
 i. 340 
 
 " Love's Labor 's Lost " . 
 
 . ii. 486 
 
 Love me, lore my book 
 
 ii. 407 
 
 Lovett i. 397 
 
 " Lucretius " . . . . i. 127 
 " Lucy Gray " . . . . i. 342 
 
 Luff, Mrs ii. 299 
 
 Lugano, Lake of . . . . i. 441 
 Lui worth Cove, At . . . ii. 477 
 
 Lushington ii. 335 
 
 Dr i. 250 
 
 Lutchens, Madame . . . i. 152, 154 
 Luther i. 61, 70, 80, 101, 221, 338, 374, 413 ; 
 
 ii. 10, 27 
 
 Anecdote of ... . i. .337 
 Luthei-an clergy . . . . i, 61 
 
 Luttrell ii 388 
 
 Lutwidge, Admiral . . . . i. 345 
 Lutwidges, The . . . . ii. 223 
 Lyell, Sir Charles . . . . i. 26 
 
 Lectures by . . . ii. 172, 304 
 
 Lyndhurst, Lord . i. 267 ; ii. 332, 458 
 
 A liberal freak of . . . ii. 424 
 Lyttelton, Lord . . . . i. 188 
 
 Macaulay, T. B. i. 385 ; ii. 283, 314, 330, 386, 
 
 402, 412, 458 
 Estimate of . . . . ii. 68 
 Macaulay 's criticism of Pope deprecated 
 
 ii. 310, 311 
 
 style ii. 312 
 
 Macdonald, G. . . . ii. 469, 495 
 
 Macdonald's writing . . . ii. 500 
 
 Mackenzie, Hon. Miss ii. 142, 143, 1-50, 194, 
 
 242,243,243,247 
 
 Wordsworth on . . ii. 285, 453 
 
 Mackenzie's, Miss, death . . ii. 285 
 
 Mackintosh, Sir James . i. 38, 313, 382, 492 ; 
 
 ii. 94, 213, 479 
 
 on the British constitution . i. 33 
 
 as a moralist ... ii. 213 
 
 Lady . . i. 251, 269, 270, 293 
 
 Miss ii. 408 
 
 Macmillan, Mr. . ii. 501 ; Preface, vi. 
 
 Macpherson ii 76 
 
 Macready i. 263, 264, 387, 433, 456 ; U. 229, 
 
 345 
 
 McSwiney, Mr ii. 51, 52 
 
 Madden, Mr ii. 89 
 
 Madge, Rev. T. . i. 279: ii. 298, 344, 345. 
 
 358,359,370,373,470,476 
 
 Madrid, Plan for going to . . i. 179 
 
 Magee, Dr. 
 Mahon, Lord . 
 Maiden, Professor . 
 Malibran . 
 Maling, Sarah Jane 
 Malkin, Dr. 
 Mallett . 
 Malmaison 
 Maltby, W. . 
 Mandeville, Bernard 
 
 . ii. 203 
 . ii. 371 
 
 . ii. 222 
 . ii. 183 
 
 i. 20, 27, 41, 42 
 
 i. 191 ; ii. 74 
 
 i. 186, 187 
 
 . i. 287 
 
 i. 216; ii. 170, 282 
 
 . i. 252 
 
 "Manfred" i. 363 
 
 The indomitable in . . . ii. 108 
 
 Mangerton ii. 51 
 
 Mankind were fallen angels . '. i 411 
 Man learning only by induction . ii. 435 
 Manning . . . . i. 224, 378 ; ii. 4 
 
 (Archdeacon) . . . ii. 357 
 
 ! Serjeant . . i. 202, 378 ; ii. 4, 486 
 
 I Death of . . ii. 498 
 
 1 Mansfield, Sir James . . i. 303, 400 
 
540 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Marburg i. 79 
 
 Marcet, Mrs ii. 191 
 
 Marlborough, Duke of . . . ii. 71 
 Marlowe's " Faust " . . . ii. 107 
 Marmor Homericum , . . ii. 491 
 
 Marquis of Westminster's pictures ii. 183 
 Marriage ofH.C.R.'S father and mother i. 2 
 Mars, Mademoiselle . i. 290, 395 ; ii. 465 
 
 Marsden i, 40»3 
 
 Marsh, Charles . . . i. 15, 312 
 
 Martin, Baron and Lady . . . ii. 466 
 
 Tom ii. 258 
 
 Martineau, Rev. James i. 81, 408 ; ii. 470, 
 
 475, 476, 477, 498 
 
 Martineau's sermons , ii. 315, 316, 412 
 
 Martineau, Miss ii. 191, 260, 271, 319, 343, 
 
 344, 372, 386, 455 
 
 Mrs. John . . . ii. 476, 482 
 
 Peter . . ii. 261, 475, 476, 484 
 
 Richard . . . ii. 391, 467 
 
 Death of . . . ii. 493 
 
 Russell . . . . ii. 476 
 
 Mary of Buttermere .... i. 346 
 
 Masquerier i. 369,385,412 ; ii. 14,215, 284, 
 
 378, 379, 399, 400, 408, 410 
 
 Masquerier's death . . . . ii. 447 
 
 Party at i 452 
 
 Masqueriers, The i. 322, 456 ; ii. 125, 235, 282 
 Mass at the Portuguese Chapel . i. 350 
 
 A grand i. 350 
 
 Massacre in Paris ii. 373 
 
 Massey i. 383 
 
 Massinger i. 328, 374 
 
 Material notions of heaven and hell ii. 334 
 
 Mather, Messrs ii. 70 
 
 Mathews i. 208, 209, 210, 259, 264, 304 ; 
 
 ii. 21 
 
 "at home" . . .1 383,474 
 
 C, Junior . . . . ii. 227 
 
 Maule, Fox ii. 330 
 
 Maundrel i. 7 
 
 Maurice, Rev. Frederick ii. 19, 281, 357, 
 430, 437, 475, 476, 486 
 
 Heresy of . . . . ii. 434, 435 
 
 on subscription . . . ii. 263 
 
 May i. 407 
 
 May, Mira i. 382 
 
 Mayer ii. 190, 318 
 
 Maximilian i. 125 
 
 Maxwell, Captain . . . . i. 389 
 
 Sir— ii. 64 
 
 Mechanical inspiration . . . ii. 434 
 Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Duke of 1. 160, 161 
 
 Medwin ii 176 
 
 Meeting, Committee . . . ii. 58 
 
 Great public . . . . ii. 58 
 
 Meiners i. 109 
 
 Melanchtbon . . i. 71, 101 ; ii. 845 
 
 Melbourne, Lord . . . i. 404 ; ii. 439 
 
 Mellish, Mr ' . i. 256 
 
 Mellon, Miss .... i. 395 
 
 MelviU .... ii. 281,282 
 
 Memorial projects . . . ii. 399 
 
 Memory and responsibility . . i. 409 
 
 of names . . . . ii. 469 
 
 Mendelssohn ii. 295 
 
 Moses . i. 66, 79, 102 ; ii. 201 
 
 Mengs, Rafael i 210 
 
 Mental ossification . . ii. 273 
 
 Mental phenomenon . . . 1. 85 
 Menzel's " Deutsche Literatur " . ii. 143 
 Mereau, Sophie . . . . i. 58 
 Meredith, Miss . . . . ii. 318 
 Merewether, Dr. .... ii. 365 
 Message, A touching . . . ii. 376 
 Methodist client, A . . . . i 356 
 preacher's brief . . . ii 40 
 
 Metternich ii 349 
 
 Meux i. 406 
 
 Meyer, Professor . . i. 71 ; ii. 42 
 
 Mrs i. 376 
 
 Michael Angelo . i. 205, 210 ; ii. 26, 27, 
 
 70,75 
 
 Michaelis i, 61 
 
 Middle age incapable of new loves ii. 224 
 
 course. The . . . . ii. 349 
 
 Temple, Entering the . . i. 172 
 
 Temple, Terms at . . . i. 190 
 
 Middle ton, Sir W. ... i. 21, 300 
 
 Milan i. 443, 444 
 
 Cathedral .... ii. 250 
 Objects of interest at . . . i. 445 
 sonnets, The three . . i. 444 
 
 to Como ii. 249 
 
 Mill, J. S. . . i. 278, 418 ; ii. 14, 169 
 
 Millard i. 317 
 
 Miller i. 250, 354 
 
 Milman, Dean . . ii. 262, 352, 398, 427 
 
 on plenary inspiration . . ii. 262 
 
 Milner, Rev. John . . . . ii. 50 
 
 . ii 209 
 
 . ii. 287, 295, a30 
 
 i. 11, 205,270,301, 313; ii. 28, 
 
 29, 68, 372 
 
 i. 482 
 
 .1.11,401 
 
 . ii. 173 
 
 i. 448 
 
 . i. 208 
 
 . ii. 222 
 
 . i. 459 
 
 . ii 237 
 
 . ii 149 
 
 i. 181 
 
 . ii. 15, 229 
 
 . ii. 100 
 
 . i. 283 
 
 i. 332 
 
 . ii. 457 
 
 . ii. 467 
 
 but Chris- 
 
 . ii. 448 
 
 Milne 
 
 Milnes 
 Milton 
 
 Mina .... 
 
 Mingay .... 
 
 Ministerial crisis 
 
 Minnets, The 
 
 Mirabeau .... 
 
 Miracles 
 
 Misanthropist, A, defined 
 
 Miser, A . . . 
 
 Miserere, The . 
 
 Mismanagement . 
 
 Mitford,Miss . 
 
 Mittermaier . 
 
 Mob applause . 
 
 opinion. Specimen of 
 
 Mocatta .... 
 
 Model carriage 
 
 Modern Jewish opinions all 
 tian .... 
 
 Moliere i. 380 
 
 Molo, The .... -ii. 126 
 
 Mona Statutes ii. 189 
 
 Monasteries, Visit to . . . ii. 135 
 
 Monk, artist. The . . . . ii 249 
 
 Monkhouse i. 378, 384, 385, 431, 432, 434, 
 455, 457, 467, 468, 470, 486 ; ii. 4, 65 
 
 Monkhouse's, Dinners at . . i. 377, 452 
 Dinner of the poets at . . i. 485 
 H. C. R.'s account of it . . i. 486 
 Lamb's account . . . i. 486 
 Moore's account . . . i. 485 
 
 Monkhouse, John . . . ii. 258 
 
 Montagu, Basil i. 238, 350, 409, 490: ii. 6, 
 
 21, 33, 43, 494 
 walking the circuit . . i. 313 
 
INDEX. 
 
 541 
 
 Montagu, Mrs. Basil 
 
 . ii. 43 
 
 Montague, Mrs .... 
 
 i. 252 
 
 Monteagle, Lady 
 
 . ii. 475 
 
 Montgomery . . .1, 246 
 
 ; ii. 63 
 
 " Monthly Register " 
 
 . i. 87 
 
 Moore, Sir John . . i. 177, 
 
 180, 185 
 
 Tom i. 267, 485, 486 ; ii. 
 
 107, 264 
 
 on the French 
 
 i. 484 
 
 Political satires of . 
 
 . i. 406 
 
 with Rogers .... 
 
 ii. 307 
 
 Moral sense, The 
 
 . ii. 381 
 
 Moi-Hvian establishment 
 
 i. 59 
 
 Moravians, The 
 
 . i. 59 
 
 More, Hannah .... 
 
 ii. 316 
 
 tragedy by . 
 
 . i. 323 
 
 Morgan, Sir Charles . 
 
 ii. 8 
 
 Lady .... 
 
 . ii. 8 
 
 Morgan . . i. 195, 249, 253, 
 
 329,335 
 
 Morgan's, Evening at . 
 
 i. 249 
 
 Morgans, The .... 
 
 . i. 227 
 
 Morghen, Raphael 
 
 i. 380 
 
 Mosaism 
 
 . ii. 448 
 
 Moses, Mr 
 
 i. 399 
 
 Mosquera, Madame . 
 
 . i. 177 
 
 Mosquera's, Party at . 
 
 i. 178 
 
 Mother, H. C. R."s . 
 
 . i. 6, 9 
 
 Death of .... 
 
 i. 13 
 
 Grave of . 
 
 . i. 44 
 
 Intluence of . 
 
 i. 4 
 
 A memory of the dearest . 
 
 . ii. 503 
 
 " Mountain named of God himself" i. 441 
 
 Mountains in winter . 
 
 ii. 246 
 
 Mountcashel .... 
 
 . ii. 332 
 
 Movement towards the Vatican 
 
 ii. 310 
 
 Moxhay 
 
 . ii. a56 
 
 Moxon . ii. 79, 96, 204, 207, 214, 240, 335, 
 343, a55, 364, 371, 388, 406 
 
 Mucewitz ii. Ill 
 
 MUller i. 62, 119 
 
 Prints by i. 354 
 
 MuUer-s engraving of the " Madonna 
 di S. Sisto •' . . . . . i. 355 
 
 Mulready ii 19 
 
 Munden . . i. 326, 328, 384 ; ii. 21 
 Munich artists . . . . ii. 255 
 
 Murat i. 275 
 
 Murch, Mr. Jerome . . . ii. 353 
 
 Charles ii. 453 
 
 Murder revenged, A . . . ii. 64 
 Murillo . . . . . . i. 332 
 
 Murphy i. 179 
 
 Murray (actor) i. 215 
 
 [publisher) . i. 259, 267, 269 
 
 Lady Augusta 
 
 Music in the air . 
 Musical party at Aders's 
 
 Muxel i. 287 i 
 
 Mylius, Herr . . . . i. 56, 444 
 
 Dinner with . . . . i. 450 ' 
 
 Mrs. H i. 448 
 
 Myliuses, The . . . . ii. 99 , 
 Mystery of colds . . . . ii. 493 ' 
 
 Mysticism i. 86 • 
 
 Mystics, The . . . . . ii. 372 ' 
 
 Napier, Sir Charles . . . ii. 424 \ 
 
 Naples ii. 124, 125 i 
 
 Napoleon i. 149, 150, 153, 161, 162, 177 ; i 
 
 ii. 38, X03 I 
 
 295 
 ii. 172 
 
 i. 486 
 
 i Nari.'^chkin, Prince . . . i. 354 
 j Narrow escape, A . . . .1. 142 
 
 I Nash ii 445 
 
 I Miss . . . . i. 324, 35-»5 
 
 I Miss Esther . . i. 367, 4-54 
 
 I The Misses ... i S^S 
 
 ] Mr. , Senior i. 228,311 ,323,359 ; ii. 30 
 
 ^Vedd . . i. 266 ; ii. 30. 32 
 
 William . i. 23, 27, 28, 32, 190 
 
 W. and T. (of Whittlesford) i 3i3 
 
 Nashes, The . . . i. 40, 473 ; ii. 3i 
 National Assembly, Conduct of busi- 
 ness in ii. 400, 4^1 
 
 " National Review •' . ii. 444, 448, 452 
 requirements of it . . . ii. 44:5 
 Natural conscience . . . ii. S^M) 
 sense of justice . . . . ii. SSO 
 Nature's waterworks at Tivoli ii 245 
 
 Naylor . . i. 351, 371, 404, 488 : ii. 3 
 
 Samuel, Junr. . i. 129, 211, 317 : 
 
 ii. 111,337 
 
 Thomas . . . . i. 317 
 
 Hare .... i. 172, 192 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. . . i. 138 
 
 Naylor-s, Dinner at . . . . ii. 78 
 Naylors, The . . . . i. 362 
 
 Neander ii. 19 
 
 Necessity and free-will , ii. 72, 199 
 
 Necker i. 116 
 
 Needham, J ii. 493 
 
 Neeff, Dr i. 106 
 
 Nelson ii. 69 
 
 Nephew's marriage . . . i. 4T9 
 
 Netherland voyage . . . i. 318 
 Netherlands, Places visited in the . i. 318 
 Netzel, the Swedish consul . . i. 160 
 New road to Germany . . ii. 263 
 
 Newman, F. W. ii 351, 352, 364, 367, 373, 
 
 389, 395, 477 
 
 John ii. 335 
 
 I Newport, Sir J ii. 59 
 
 ; Newspaper mis-reporting . . . ii. 63 
 I Newton, Sir Isaac i. 49, 195, 200 ; ii. 27 
 
 ; New year i. 110 
 
 I year's day ii. 502 
 
 I Niccolini on Catholic emancipation ii. 133 
 j Niccolini's " Nabucco " . . . ii. 133 
 
 '' Nicholson i. 240 
 
 ! Nicolai, Frederick . . i 102 ; ii. 118 
 I Nicolai's Satires . . . . i. 103 
 I Niebuhr . . . . ii. 19, 123, 357 
 
 I Niece ii. 40 
 
 Niese, Madame . . ii. 101, 196, 198 
 Ninetieth birthday . . ii. 491 
 
 ' Nismes . * ii. 141 
 
 Niven, Mr. . . . -n . ii. 64 
 
 ; Mi-s ii. 73 
 
 " No Crahb, no Christmas '' . ii. 390 
 
 ■ Non-con dinner . . . ii. 286, 345 
 
 Norfolk, Duke of . ^. . ii. 404 
 
 Norgate . . . . i. 15 
 
 ' Norris, Mr ii. 44 
 
 ! North, Lord i. 409 
 
 Northampton, Marquis of ii 121, 122, 374 
 ; Northcote . . . i. 196,240; ii. 19 
 
 j Northmore i. 239 
 
 I Norton, Hon. Mrs, . , ii. 335 
 
 Norwich ..,,}. 16,317,348 
 
 Bishop of , . . . ii. 374 
 
542 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 " Not at home " 
 Nugent, Lord, 
 Nuremberg 
 
 ii. 338 ( Owen . . 
 
 ii. 31 ! Oxberry 
 
 i. 77 I Oxford, Parties at 
 
 i.377 
 i. 328 
 ii. 335 
 
 O'Brien ii. 68 
 
 Smith, and Irish martyrdom . ii 376 
 O'Connell counsel before the Lords ii. 158 
 in court . . . • ?j- ^6 
 Derrynane, at . . . . ii. 51 
 Incidents by the way with . ii. 49 
 Family mansion of . . . ii. 54 
 H.C. R.'s coach journey with ii. 48 
 Reformation, on the . . ii. 55 
 
 Talk with .... ii. 48, 50 
 
 Visit to ii. 51 
 
 O'Connell's brother-in-law . . ii. 52 
 
 Dinner at !!• ^? 
 
 family chaplain . . . ii. 55 
 Legitim:icy principles . . ii. 55 
 mode of settling disputes . ii, 53 
 principles, are they justifiable . ii. 58 
 
 Speech ii. 58 
 
 tenantry ii. 53 
 
 great-uncle shot . . . ii. 49 
 O^Connell, Maurice . . . . ii 56 
 O'Connells, Cemetery of the . ii. 54 
 
 Oersted i. 107 
 
 Office of the magistrate in suppressing 
 religious error . . . ii. 233, 234 
 
 O'Grorman ii. 52 
 
 Old age ii. 290, 394 
 
 Extreme. . . . . ii. 52 
 musings . . . . . ii. 402 
 
 Old Bailey i. 353 
 
 Oldenburg . . . i. 257 ; ii. 255 
 
 Old letters ii. 487 
 
 O'Leary, Arthur . . . . ii. 50 
 
 0-Loghlen ii. 46 
 
 Old man's birthday, An . . ii. 439, 440 
 Old people stupid . . . i. 476 
 Old times compared with the present i. 411 
 Omnibuses . . . . . ii. 85 
 On criticism and partial insight . ii. 212 
 
 On Divine aid ii. 420 
 
 On eternity of future punishment ii. 444 
 One-mindedness amidst variety . ii. 44*3 
 One more play . . . ii. 492, 493 
 One-sidedness of genius . . . ii. 235 
 O'Neil, Miss . i. 299, 304, 310, 317, 323 
 On the imperial veto . . . ii. 145 
 " On the brink of being born " . ii. 494 
 On what convictions happiness rests 
 
 ii. 452 
 Open church government . . ii. 415 
 Opera, Pope's benefit at the • . i. 209 
 
 Opera and theatre at Berlin . . i. 104 
 Opie . . . . i. 210, 275 ; ii. 19, 94 
 
 Mrs. . ... i. 16;ii. 9, 33 
 
 Oppression in Saxony . . . ii. 417 
 Oratory, H. C. R. on . . . i. 211 
 Order preferred to freedom . . i. 483 
 Ordination, What sufficient for . ii. 352 
 Orleans, Duchess of . . . i. 42 
 
 Osborne ii. 65 
 
 Ossian i. 55 
 
 Our Lady of the Snow . . i. 439 
 
 Outline of Faber's religious theory . ii. 301 
 
 Ouvry, F ii. 476 
 
 Overbeck .... ii 122, 247 
 
 Paestum .... 
 Paganini . * . . 
 Paine, Thomas, Engraving of 
 Paley, Reading 
 Palgrave, Sir F. . 
 
 Lady . . . , 
 
 Palinode .... 
 Pretended . . . 
 
 Palmer 
 
 Dr 
 
 ii. 125 
 . ii. 166 
 
 i. 85 
 . i. 323 
 
 ii. 5 
 . ii. 5, 66 
 
 ii. 88 
 . ii. 93 
 
 ii. 335 
 . i. 243 
 
 Palmerston, Lord . . ii. 62, 89, 185, 411 
 Pamphlet Society, Proposed . . ii. 335 
 Panic of 1825 . . . . ii. 32 
 Papal aggression . . . . ii. 403 
 Government on the watch for libels 
 
 ii. 128 
 
 panic ii. 404 
 
 Parke, Dr i. 276 
 
 Parkes, Joseph . . . . ii. 483 
 
 Mrs. Joseph , . . ii 372 
 
 Parkin i. 224 
 
 Paris, Journey to . . . i. 367 
 
 At i. 337 
 
 Life in, during the Revolution i. 338 
 Review of trip to . . . i. 293 
 Six days at .... i. 395 
 
 taken i. 316 
 
 tour .... ii. 399, 400 
 under a Republic . . ii. 400, 401 
 Parodies, The, and Government prose- 
 cution of Hone . . i. 371 
 Parr, Dr. i. 39, 100, 189, 255 ; ii. 4, 17, 78, 
 121, 175, 432, 513, 518 
 Parry, editor of the ''Courier" . i. 36 
 
 Captain . . . i. 27 ; ii. 1 
 
 ofGrasmere .... ii. 223 
 
 Pascal, Saying of . . . . i. 98 
 Pascal's letters . . . i. 356 ; ii. 273 
 
 Pasley, Sir T 
 
 ii. 271 
 
 Pasquinades .... 
 
 . ii. 145 
 
 Passavant 
 
 i. 390 
 
 " Passing Jehovah unalarmed " 
 
 . ii. 376 
 
 Pasta 
 
 ii. 84 
 
 Patmore, Mr 
 
 . i. 10 
 
 Pattisson, Jacob, Senr. 
 
 i. 14, 15 
 
 Mrs. Jacob 
 
 . i 322 
 
 Jacob, Junr. i. 215, 220 ; ii. 176 
 
 Mr , of Maldon . . . i. 22 
 
 William, of Witham i. 16, 22, 26, 
 
 322,328; ii. 24, 42, 43, 336 
 
 Mrs. W. i. 215, 277, 280, 300, 322, 
 
 348, 357, 382 
 
 — WilUam, Junr. i. 215, 220 ; ii. 20, 
 
 21, 426 
 
 Fatal accident to, with his bride ii. 177 
 
 Pattissons, The . . . ii. 83, 203, 487 
 
 Lawrence's picture of the (William 
 
 and Jacob) i. 215, 220 ; ii. 178 
 
 Paul, Emperor of Russia . . i. 133 
 
 Jean . . i. 105, 196, 233, 253 
 
 Prince . . . . i. 390 
 
 Paul Pry ii. 42 
 
 The original . . . . ii. 89 
 Pauli . . . i. 149,156; ii. 115 
 Paulis, The i. 157 
 
INDEX. 
 
 543 
 
 Paulus, Professor I. 99, 100, 101, 110, 131 ; 
 
 ii. 101, 198, 199 
 
 Payne (friend of C. Lamb) i. 477; ii 9, 71 
 
 Mrs ii 119 
 
 Paynter ii. 238, 309, 354, 393, 422, 443 
 
 Letter to, from H. C. R. . . ii. 417 
 on an Established Church . ii. 430 
 
 Peace, The i. 68 
 
 Illumination for . . . i. 324 
 Peacock, Dean of Ely . . . ii. 18 
 Peckwell, Miss . . . . i. 376 
 Pedestrians, Tour as ... i. 437 
 
 Peel, Sir Robert i. 386 ; ii. 17, 89. 170, 210, 
 
 344 
 Peile, Lessons of . . . . i. 46 
 
 Pele.v ii. 403 
 
 Penalties for not attending church i. 3o5 
 Penance by deputy . . . ii. 199 
 Penn, A descendant of William . i. 312 
 
 Granville . . . . ii. 6 
 
 Pennefather, Baron . . . . ii. 43 
 Penny post. The new . * . ii. 285 
 Pensioned letter writer, The . . ii 393 
 Pepina . . . . . Preface, xii. 
 Perceval, Assassination of . i. 248, 260 
 Percy's Reliques . . . . i. 167 
 Perplexing fears of change . . ii, 163 
 Persecution, On . . . . ii. 299 
 
 Personal talk i. 329 
 
 Perthes of Hamburg . . . i. 199 
 Pestalozzi , . . . . . i. 88 
 ''Peter Bell" . . . i. 405, 481 
 Peter the Great . . . . i. 321 
 
 Pr-ter Pindar . . . . i. 178, 210 
 
 Petrarch ii. 235, 241 
 
 Petrarch-s copy of Virgil seized by Na- 
 poleon i. 445 
 
 Pettigrew . . . . ii. 298, 345 
 
 Pett, Samuel ii. 439 
 
 Philips, Mark . ii. ^3), 3")8, 373, 483 
 
 Philips, R. N ii. 483 
 
 Phillips .... i. 456 
 
 r- R. A. i. 241, 311, 313 ; ii. 20, 70, 279 
 
 — Sir Richard . . i. 275, 404 
 
 Philosopher's, The, estimate of evil ii. 396 
 Philpotts, Dr. . . . ii. 89, 170, 173 
 
 Pickersgill ii. 206 
 
 Pickersgiirs portrait of Wordsworth ii. 183 
 Pickpocket, The . . . . i. 451 
 
 Pictet, Mr i. 448 
 
 IMetsch . . . . i. 154, 156, 157 
 
 Piggott . . . . . . i. 384 
 
 Pig language . . . . ii. 343 
 
 Pillnitz. i. 62 
 
 Pipiela i. 184 
 
 Piranesi (engraver) . i. 387, 404 ; ii. 120 
 Pi.strucci . . . . . ii. 8 
 
 Pitchford . . . . . . i. 15 
 
 Pitt, William i. 36, 50, 186, 187 ; ii. 34, 69 
 Pitt and Grenville Acts . . . i. 21 
 Pius VIII., Death of . . . ii. 141 
 
 Funeral of ii. 141 
 
 lying in state . . . . ii 141 
 
 Place, Mr i. 381 
 
 Places to have seen . . . ii 125 
 Plans for the future . . . . ii. 216 
 Planting trees . . . . ii. 203 
 
 Piatt, Mr i. 358 
 
 Playfellow of C. Lamb's . . ii. 362 
 
 Playford Hall i; 336 
 
 Pleading before the Lords . . i. 475 
 Plenary inspiration . . . . ii. 262 
 Plomer, Sir Thomas , . . ii. 311 
 
 Plumer, Mr ii. 362 
 
 Plumptre, Rev. E. ii. 330, ^32, 449, 475, 
 
 476 
 
 Mrs. . . , i 371 ; ii. 443 
 
 The Misses . . . i. 41 
 
 Anne i. 191 
 
 Plunkett ii. 61 
 
 " Pocket Book," the Old, no longer 
 
 published ii. 502 
 
 Poel, proprietor of the Alt ona Mercury 
 
 i. 149, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 410 
 
 Poel, Junr 
 
 i. 472 
 
 Madame 
 
 . i. 155 
 
 Poet of humanity. The 
 
 ii. 257 
 
 On a young . . . ii. 
 
 297,298 
 
 Poetic imagination 
 
 i. 342 
 
 Poetry an epidemic . 
 
 . i. 457 
 
 H. C. R. on . 
 
 i. 213 
 
 "Poet's eye. The" . 
 
 . i. 470 
 
 Poets need no prompter 
 
 i. 470 
 
 Poets, The, at a concert . 
 
 . i. 486 
 
 Poets, The, diverse love of music 
 
 i. 488 
 
 Point of union between High Church 
 
 and Nou-cons 
 
 . ii 305 
 
 Points of happiness compared . 
 
 ii. 421 
 
 Polemics in Prussia . 
 
 . ii. 129 
 
 Morbid effect of . 
 
 ii. 307 
 
 On 
 
 . ii. 3J3 
 
 Politics ii. 
 
 193, :^02 
 
 at Altona . . . . i. 
 
 151, 132 
 
 Bear and forbear in 
 
 i 331 
 
 French . . . . ii. 
 
 368, 3d9 
 
 Political crisis in Europe 
 
 ii. 368 
 
 expectations at Altona 
 
 . i.l52 
 
 talk 
 
 i. 246 
 
 unsettlement 
 
 . ii 141 
 
 Pollock, Chief Baron i. 354, 365, 419, 420, 
 491 ; ii. 19, 498, 499 
 
 Pompeii ii. 12a 
 
 Poole, the comic writer . i. 326 ; ii. 400 
 Poor man's doctor. The . . . ii. 438 
 Pope, Alexander i. 102, 239, 357, 362 ; 
 
 u. 32, 96, 104, 292 
 
 Enthusiasm for 
 Lessons learnt from 
 Macaulay's attack on 
 The aggressors on . 
 Pope's moral character . 
 
 place among the poets 
 
 ii. 310 
 ii. 311 
 ii. 312 
 ii. 311 
 ii. 312 
 ii. 313 
 i. 324 
 ii. 145 
 ii. 146 
 ii. 145 
 ii. 130 
 ii. 146 
 ii. 315 
 
 Pope (the actor) 
 Pope, Choice of a new . 
 
 Coronation of . 
 
 Election of . 
 
 Goethe on the . 
 
 proclaimed .... 
 
 at Rome better than at Oxford 
 
 The, at a fete . . . . ii. 129 
 Pope's, The " make up " . ii. 130 
 
 Popish practices of some who cry " No 
 
 Popery " ii. 43 
 
 Porden . . . i 202,241,294,295 
 
 Ellen . . i. 202, 242, 312 ; ii. 1 
 
 Porden's, Dinner at . . . i. 311 
 Pordens, The . . . . i. 267, 272 
 Porson, Professor . i. 35, 108 ; ii, 121 
 
544 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Porter, Miss Jane . i. 246, 248, 249 ; ii. 42 
 
 Portrait, A, by Lady Byron . . ii. 438 
 
 exhibition . . . . i. 432 
 
 Portraits by Sir Joshua . . . ii. 166 
 
 Portugal i. 491 
 
 Pothier i. 290 
 
 Power (the actor) . . . . ii 227 
 Power of the keys . . , . ii. 428 
 
 Praed ii. 160 
 
 Prague i. 66 
 
 Prati, Dr ii. 8, 22 
 
 Preaching, Open-air . . . i. 464 
 
 Predestination . . . ii. 210, 447 
 Predisposition to certain notions . ii. 347 
 Presbyterians retained the power of 
 
 change ii. 322 
 
 Presentiment, False . . . ii. 290 
 
 Preston i. 358. 381 
 
 Prevost, Abbe . . . . il 139 
 Priest, A vehement . . . . ii. 61 
 Priestley, Dr. i. 10, 22, 54, 82, 100, 138 . 
 
 ii. 279 
 
 Primeval question, The . . ii. 432 
 
 'Primitive powers inexplicable . . ii. 72 
 
 Primogeniture scriptural . . i. 328 
 
 Primrose, Mr. . . . . . ii. 56 
 
 Prince ^Albert at the Flaxman Graller}' 
 
 ii. 410 
 Prince, The Crown, of Weimar . i. 390 
 Princess Charlotte's marriage . . i. 330 
 death . . i. 370 
 Princess of Saxe-Weimar . . i. 136, 390 
 Princess, The Grand . . . i. 392 
 Prior . . . i. 139, 188, 278, 382 
 
 Prints and art criticism . . i. 456 
 Prints, A present of . . . . i. 354 
 Prison discipline . . . . ii. 379 
 Private theatricals . . . . ii. 337 
 Proby, Lady Charlotte. . . ii, 194 
 Procession in the City . . . i. 277 
 Proclamation and shooting down of 
 
 Catholics ii. 49 
 
 Procter, George . . . . ii. 33 
 
 Robert ii. 476 
 
 Procter, alias Barry Cornwall ii. 356, 494 
 Procureur du Roi, Office of . . i. 479 
 Profes.^ional income . . . i. 468 
 Professorship of mental philosophy ii. 498, 
 
 500 
 Progress of toleration among Catholics 
 
 ii. 234 
 Prohibition of milk in Lent . . ii 148 
 Projects for future work . ii. 496, 497 
 Property the creature of necessity . ii. 381 
 Prophet, A, without honor . . i 343 
 Prospects of old and young contrasted 
 
 ii. 472 
 Provisional Government in France ii. 369 
 
 Pryce ii. 345 
 
 Pry me, M. P. for Cambridge . i. 459 
 
 Public affairs i. 21 
 
 Public, The, guilty for not educating its 
 
 members . . . . ii. 381 
 
 Punishment for crime . . . ii, 380 
 
 Grounds for . . . ii. 380, 381 
 
 The nature of . . . ii. 382 
 
 Purcell i. 221 
 
 Putting papers in order . . ii. 487 
 Pyecroft i. 184 
 
 " Quadrupeds," Play of . 
 Quain .... 
 Quaker anecdote 
 
 scruples .... 
 Quakers, Scandal on 
 Quayle, W. . i. 190,266,307 
 
 Junr 
 
 Queen Caroline . 
 
 and the counsel 
 
 Coleridge on . 
 
 guilty or innocent ? . 
 
 popular feeling respecting 
 Queen Caroline's trial 
 
 visit to St. Paul's 
 
 Queen, The young . 
 I Queen's entry into the City . 
 Quiilinan ii. 94, 296, 359, 3 
 
 Death of . 
 , Liberal Romanism of . 
 on Dr. Chanuing 
 on Pope's writings 
 
 Mrs. (the first) 
 
 Mrs. (the second) 
 
 Illness and death of 
 ^ Miss .... 
 
 Quintet of poets 
 
 Quot homines tot sententiae 
 
 74 
 
 . i.217 
 
 ii. 423 
 
 . i. 228 
 
 i. 434 
 
 . i. 228 
 
 . 259, 337 
 
 . ii. 170 
 
 i. 441 
 
 . 151, 152 
 
 i. 453 
 
 . ii. 152 
 
 i 430 
 
 . i. 453 
 
 i 453 
 
 . ii 259 
 
 ii. 259 
 
 383, 386, 
 
 407 
 
 . ii. 416 
 
 ii. 310 
 
 . ii. 391 
 
 . 311, 312 
 
 . i. 465 
 
 . 292, 321 
 
 . 256, 358 
 
 ii. 238 
 
 . i. 485 
 
 ii. 347 
 
 Rabelais . . . . . i. 382 
 Rachel as Hermione . . . , ii. 401 
 Racket court . . . . ii. 506 
 
 Radcliffe, Mrs i. 304 
 
 Rae i. 430 ; ii. 474 
 
 Raffles, Sir Stamford . . . i. 418 
 Railway journey. First . . ii. 184 
 
 Rainville i. 154 
 
 Rammohun Roy . . . ii. 159, 170 
 Randall, Edward . . i. 380 ; ii. 341 
 Ranke . . . ii. 313, 316, 410, 412 
 
 Rankin, Miss ii. 481 
 
 Ranz des Vaches . . . . i. 441 
 Raphael i. 72, 80, 355, 393 ; ii. 26, 70, 75, 
 
 121, 235 
 Rapid travelling by stage-coach . ii. 216 
 Rationalists, The . . . . i. 61 
 
 Rauch ii. 122 
 
 Raumer, Herr von . . . ii. 226 
 Ravenglass . . . . . i. 345 
 
 Ray, Mr. and Mrs. John . . i. 365 
 Raymond . . . . . . ii. 345 
 
 Read the blotted page kindly . ii. 453 
 Reader . . . . i. 370 ; ii. 30 
 
 Recamier, Madame de . . i. 479 ; ii. 176 
 
 Reciter, or Improvisatore . . ii. 126 
 
 Recollection of boyhood . . ii. 363 
 
 of eighty years . . . . ii. 503 
 
 of the French war . . ii. 498 
 
 Redesdale, Lord . . i. 475; ii. 60 
 Rees, Dr. Abraham . i. 135, 242, 243 
 Reeve, Mrs. . . . i. 448 ; ii. 476 
 
 Reeves i. 374 
 
 Reform Bill . . ii. 158, 163, 164, 173 
 question. The . , . i. 414 
 Reforms after the Reform Bill . . ii. 210 
 Reformation, The . . . i. 70 
 
 Regent's Park, The . . i. 881: ii. 23 
 
 Reid i. 40 
 
 Mr. (of Hampstead) . i. 408 
 
INDEX. 
 
 545 
 
 Reid, Mrs. (of York Terrace) 
 
 11. 148 
 ii. 476 
 
 U. 425, 429, 
 ^ 495 
 
 Reimarus i. 149 
 
 Reinhardt, Miss . . . . i. 410 
 Relation of Judaism to Christianity ii. 427 
 
 Relics 
 
 Religio Laici .... 
 Religion, Family .... 
 
 Interest in, grows with age 
 
 Things connected with . 
 
 Talk on ... . 
 Religious belief .... 
 
 character of H. C. R.-s mother 
 
 Conservatism at Oxford 
 
 enthusiasts and religious thinkers 
 
 ii. 
 
 freedom ii. 
 
 unity . . . . ii. 458, 459 
 Relph, Mr. Cuthbert . . ii. 73, 86 
 Remedy for sectarianism . . ii. 432 
 Reminiscences, The . . . . ii. 418 
 Republic, A, without republicans i. 338 
 Resolution of Senate of University Col- 
 lege ii. 494 
 
 Rest in the character of Christ . ii. 448 
 Resurrection of Christ . . . ii. 454 
 Retreat of the English from Spain i. 179 
 Retribution not for us . , . ii. 382 
 Retrospect . i. 327, 416, 480 ; ii. 31, 456 
 Re very in old age . . . ii, 402 
 
 Revising " Excursion " . . . ii. 323 
 Revolution (French, 1830) . . ii 133 
 Revolutionary movements . . ii. 147 
 "Reynard the Fox'' . . 1.129,211 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua . i. 210 ; ii. 19, 94 
 Reynolds's portrait of Dr. Johnson ii. 166 
 Rheumatism, An attack of . . ii. 91 
 
 Rhine, The ii. 98 
 
 Rhone Valley i. 447 
 
 Rice, Spring . . . ii. 211, 261, 351 
 Richardson, Dr. . . . . ii 490 
 
 Lady . . . . . ii. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 259 
 290 
 
 5 
 299 
 322 
 
 9 
 226 
 
 459 
 197 
 
 lUchter, Jean Paul 
 
 Translation from 
 Rickman 
 Rie2ier 
 Ri'jce, Mr. 
 Ridley 
 
 Ri-i, The . . 
 Rioters tried 
 River Avon at Bristol 
 Kivett 
 Robertson, Reverend F. W. 
 
 428 
 
 472 
 
 i. 76 
 
 . i 231 
 
 i. 192, 205, 272 
 
 i. 121 ; ii. 480 
 
 i. 58, 59, 68 
 
 . i. 399 
 
 i. 437 
 
 . i. 334 
 
 . ii. 45 
 
 . i. 11 
 
 ii. 348, 351, 
 
 359, 330, 831, S70, 372, 374, 419, 420, 
 
 431, 432, 424, 439, 438 
 
 fear for his health . . . ii. 370 
 
 on the Essence of Magio 
 on Lidy Byron . 
 on the Life of Samuel . 
 on the temptation 
 Mr., Senr. 
 
 . ii. 438 
 . ii. 427 
 . ii. 370 
 . ii. 370 
 ii. 377, 379 
 Robertson's address to working men ii. 397 
 death . . . . ii. 429, 430 
 
 "Life" ii. 431 
 
 opinions . . . . ii. 407 
 preaching . . . . ii. 330, 331 
 self-disregard. . . . ii. 3*9 
 sermons . . . . ii. 332, 408 
 
 Robertson's theology 
 
 work , 
 Robespierre . 
 " Robin Hood Ballads 
 Robinson, Archdeacon 
 
 . ii. 430 
 
 . ii. 433 
 
 i. 117. 283, 367 
 
 . i. 474 
 
 . ii 337 
 
 Robinson, Anthony Preface, xvii. ; i. 24, 
 
 37, 41, 210, 230, 256, 258, 271, 276, 278, 
 
 294, 307, 311, 328, 419 ; ii. 23, 73, 77 
 
 Death of li. 73 
 
 — Mrs. . . . i. 271,^276; ii. 78 
 
 — Anthony, Junr. . . i. 304, 461 
 
 Habakkuk 
 
 Death of 
 H. C, A libel by 
 
 j Accident to, at Rydal 
 
 Antiquarian Society, Joins . 
 Athenaeum Club, Joins . 
 Autobiographical projects of 
 
 222, 402 
 
 . ii. 405 
 
 i. 415 
 
 . ii. 320 
 
 ii. 87 
 
 . ii. 7 
 
 ii. 221,- 
 
 302 
 
 Bar, Determines to study for the i. 229 
 Bar, Quits the . . . ii. 86 
 Bequests of . . . . ii. 506 
 
 Birth of i. 2 
 
 clerk at Colchester . . . i. 10 
 clerk at Mr. Hoper's . . i. 24 
 clerk at Mr. Joseph Hill's . . i. 24 
 cross-examines his old schoolmaster 
 
 i. 400 
 defending a man accused of murder 
 
 i. 268 
 edits Clarkson's " Strictures " ii. 269 
 Endowments by . . . ii. 504, 505 
 "Exposure "by . . . ii. 269 
 Family of . . . . . i. 1 
 Fresco memorial to . . ii. 507 
 Germany, Goes to i. 44, 389 ; ii. 98, 
 
 195 
 hustled and robbed in the Strand i. 451 
 knocked down by a cab 
 Memory of. 
 
 leader on the Norfolk Circuit 
 Littledale's pupil 
 " London Review," Writes for 
 on Dissenters' Chapels Bill ii. 
 on etymology of Mass . 
 on his mother . . . . ii, 502 
 on Jeffrey's criticism of Wordsworth 
 
 ii. 432 
 on Landor's attack on Wordsworth 
 
 ii. 234 
 on personal economy 
 on political reform 
 
 on Pope 
 
 on retirement from the Bar . 
 on Rogers and Wordsworth ii. 293, 294 
 on theological polemics . . ii 306 
 on theology . . . ii. 191, 192 
 on travelling expenses . . ii. 239 
 on Wordsworth's imputed plagia- 
 rism ii. 
 
 resitrns Vice-Presidentship of Sen- 
 
 ii. 494 
 ii. 142 
 ii. 117 
 i. 3 
 i. 5 
 t 8 
 i. 7 
 1.3,6 
 
 i'. 
 
 429 
 
 . ii. 
 
 511 
 
 ii 
 
 31 
 
 . i. 
 
 238 
 
 i. 
 
 189 
 
 331 
 
 332 
 
 ii 
 
 181 
 
 11. 239 
 ii 155 
 ii. 313 
 
 ii 466 
 
 235 
 
 ate .... 
 robbed in the street . 
 Rome, Goes to 
 at school at Mrs. Bard's . 
 at school at Mr. Blomfield's 
 at school at Mr Crabb's . 
 at school at Mr. Fenner's 
 at school at Mr. Lease's 
 
 II 
 
i46 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Robinson, H. C , studies at Jena i. 83 
 
 Times correspondent in Altona i. 148 
 
 Times correspondent in Corunna i. 183 
 
 Times, Foreign Editor of the i. 168 
 
 University College Council, mem- 
 ber of . . ii. 267, 509 
 Vice-President of Senate of ii. 363 
 
 works for Dissenters' Chapels Act ii. 328 
 Robinson's article in the Quarterly ii. 16 
 
 Bar, Call to the 
 
 Bar mess, First dinner with 
 
 Belgium and Holland, Tour in 
 
 birthday, 62d . 
 
 birthday, 70th 
 
 brother Habakkuk, Death of 
 
 brother Thomas, Death of . 
 
 chambers in King's Bench Walk 
 
 i. 413 
 
 change of residence 
 
 circuit. First 
 
 Commencement Day 
 
 conversation . 
 
 death 
 
 dinner-parties 
 
 earliest recollections 
 
 escape from Altona 
 
 examination for the Bar . 
 
 executors .... 
 
 experience of chloroform . 
 
 family gifts inter vivos 
 
 father's death ... 
 
 Flaxman Gallery, Interest in 
 
 France, Tour in . i. 282, 477 ; 
 
 Frankfort, Visit to . 
 
 Heidelberg, Visit to . * . 
 
 home i. 4 
 
 income 
 
 i. 265 
 i. 267 
 i. 317 
 ii. 245 
 ii. 337 
 ii. 405 
 ii. 471 
 
 . n. 283 
 
 i. 267 
 
 . ii. 486 
 
 ii. 510 
 
 . ii. 504 
 
 ii. 440, 475, 476 
 
 . i. 2, 3 
 
 i. 155 
 
 i. 262 
 
 ii. 229 
 
 ii. 392 
 
 ii. 506 
 
 i.307 
 
 ii 351 
 
 ii. 449 
 
 ii. 288 
 
 ii. 195 
 
 5,6,7 
 
 378 
 
 83 
 
 31 
 
 45 
 
 337 
 
 483 
 
 501 
 
 383 
 
 146 
 
 22 
 
 income (professional) 
 Ireland, Visit to . 
 Lakes, Tour to the . 
 last Continental journey 
 last speech in public 
 licentia loquendi . 
 literary work . 
 lodgings in London 
 memory for Wordsworth's poems ii- 464 
 mother's grave . . . . ii. 186 
 nephew's death . . . il 
 Normandy, Tour in . . . ii 
 occasional failure of mind . ii 
 Paris, Journey to . i. 337 ; ii 
 portrait . . . . ii. 14, 110 
 prophecy respecting European poli- 
 tics i. 274 
 
 religious opinions 
 " Robinsoniana " 
 Rydal, First Christmas at 
 Scotland, Tour to . 
 social powers 
 Southey, Journey with 
 speech at the Academical Society i. 211 
 speech in Ireland . . . ii. 59 
 speech in mitigation for Williams i. 372 
 speech in a Qui tam case . . i. 398 
 studies in religious philosophy ii. 199, 
 
 200 
 6witzerland and North Italy, Tour 
 
 to ii. 348 
 
 Times" engagement ceases . i. 187 
 
 290 
 10 
 
 483 
 400 
 
 i. 322 
 339, 340 
 ii. 217 
 i. 460 
 ii. 514 
 ii. 266 
 
 — James 
 
 — Marmaduke 
 
 — Robert, Rev. 
 
 Robinson's tombstone, Inscription on ii 504 
 Turner, Dawson, Visit to . ii. 66 
 University Hall, Interest in . ii. 351 
 unmusical ear . . . ii. 165 
 unsettled life in London . . i. 34 
 visit to Goethe . . . ii. 1U4 
 Wales, Tour in . ' . . . i. 42 
 will . . . . . ii. 506 
 Wordsworth, Italian tour with . ii. 240 
 Wordsworth, Scotch tour with ii 187 
 Wordsworth, Tour with, to West 
 
 of England . . . . ii. 258 
 Wordsworth, Tour with, to Switzer- 
 land i. 433 
 
 Robinson, Henry Hutchinson . ii. 451 
 
 Birthday of ii. 392 
 
 Death of . ii. 451 
 
 ii. 476 
 
 . ii. 240 
 
 i. 40, 101, 228, 259; 
 
 ii 338, 518, 519 
 
 Bons mots of — 
 
 A child's letter . U. 340, 341 
 Bottles and corks . ii. 340 
 Socratic method . ii. 341, 342 
 The accuser of the brethren 
 
 ii. 342 
 Things undreamt of . ii. 340 
 
 Thomas . . . . ii. 296 
 
 Death of . . . . ii. 471 
 his eighty-second birthday ii. 421 
 his funeral . . . ii. 471 
 
 Mrs. . . i. 229, 488 ; ii. 21 
 
 Death of . . . ii. 65 
 
 Mrs. Thomas, Junr. . ii. 501 
 
 T., Junr., his marriage i. 479 
 
 Robinsoniana . . . ii. 342, 343 
 Robison, Professor . . . . i- 124 
 Robson (the actor) . ii. 455, 469, 470 
 Roche, Madame de la , i. 73, 133, 140 
 
 Sophie de la . . . i. 48 
 
 Rogers, Samuel Preface, v , ix. ; i. 238, 
 268, 291, 293, 332, 365, 380, 485, 486 ; 
 ii. 282, 286, 307, 308, 311, 327, 377. 
 388, 398, 406, 467 
 
 Breakfast with 
 
 Death of. 
 
 Dinner with 
 
 and Flaxman 
 
 and Flaxman's works . 
 
 and Miss Rogers . 
 
 on Flaxman 
 
 on Gibson and Chantrey 
 
 on specific legacies 
 
 on Sydney Smith . 
 
 on the Poets 
 
 on Walter Scott 
 
 on Wordsworth . 
 
 Miss . 
 
 Rogers's house . 
 
 pictures after the Sale 
 
 Table-talk . 
 Rogets, The . 
 Roland, Madame 
 
 ii. 214, 257 
 
 ii. 450 
 
 206, aso 
 
 . i 490 
 
 ii. 363 
 
 406 
 
 334 
 
 164 
 
 288 
 
 336 
 
 214 
 
 491 
 
 u. aas, 
 . i. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 ii. 
 . ii. 
 
 *ii. 41 ; 294 
 . ii. 261 
 
 . ii. 452 
 
 . ii. 454 
 
 ii. 191, 288 
 
 i. 241 
 
 . ii. 239 
 
 Rolfe (Lord Cranworth) i. 250, 352 ; ii. 46, 
 
 71 
 Rolfe's, Dinner at . . . . ii. 209 
 RoUeston . . . • . ii. 422 
 Rolt, Sir John . . . . . ii. 344 
 
INDEX. 
 
 547 
 
 Roman Catholic piety . . . i. 77 
 Catholic Cathedral . . . ii. 67 
 Catholic meeting . . . ii. 57 
 Catholic tradition . . . ii. 148 
 Catholicism . . . . ii. 48 
 Police ii. 142 
 
 Romana, General . . . i. 177, 183 
 
 Rome ii. 118, 129 
 
 Friends in . . . . ii. 242 
 Interests at . . . . ii. 242 
 likened to Wapping . . ii. 121 
 and Naples . . . . ii. 314 
 
 On leaving ii. 150 
 
 Sights in ii. 121 
 
 Romilly, Sir Samuel i. 276, 397, 400 ; ii. 169 
 A Bar speech of . . . i. 384 
 and Burdett elected for Westmin- 
 ster i. 387 
 
 and Hunt . . . , i. 388 
 on Eldon . 
 
 Sir John 
 
 Roscoe 
 
 Junr. 
 
 Henry 
 
 . i.276 
 
 ii. 169, 267, 284 
 
 . i. 196, 246 
 
 i. 24G, 388 
 
 . i. 455 
 
 — Robert . . . i. 455; ii. 374 
 
 W. S ii.489 
 
 Rose, Stuart ii 190 
 
 Ross ii. 408, 446 
 
 Rossi i. 441 
 
 Rostock i. 160, 162 
 
 Royston i 323 
 
 book-club . . . . . i. 23 
 
 Walk to i. 190 
 
 Rough, Serjeant i. 192, 194, 201, 230, 238, 
 239,267,328,354 
 . i. 224,316 
 i. 214 
 . i. 202 
 1.234, 369; ii. 35, 216 
 . . . i. 139 
 . . . i. 21 
 i. 206, 387, 406 ; ii. 183 
 . ii. 165 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 Rough's, Dinner at 
 Roughs, The . 
 Rousseau 
 Rowe, Mrs. 
 Rowley, Sir W. . 
 Royal Academy 
 
 in pecuniary trouble 
 Royal marriage, A . . . . i. 330 
 
 Society, its dull doings . . ii. 87 
 Rubens ii. 75 
 
 " Daniel in the Lion's Den " . i. 464 
 
 Ruskin ii. 4C6, 469 
 
 Russell, Lord . . . . i. 178 
 
 Lord John . . . ii. 84, 330. 344 
 Russell Square (30) . . ii. 283, 488 
 Russia, Emperor of . . . . i 136 
 Russian Minister's dinner . ii. 123 
 
 Rutt, J. T. i. 22, 23, 24, 
 
 , 40, 190, 262, 
 332 
 . ii. 291 
 . i. 222 
 . i. 263, 382 
 ii. 355 
 . i. a56 
 . . ii. 334 
 
 Death of . . . 
 
 Mrs 
 
 Rachel . 
 
 Ryal 
 
 Ryan, Sir Edward . 
 
 Rydal . . 
 
 Christmas visit to ii. 299, 366, 382, 386, 
 
 405 
 
 Circle at ii. 386 
 
 excursionists . . . . ii 376 
 in mourning . . . . ii. 399 
 
 Leaving ii. 224 
 
 Lodgings at . . . . ii. 217 
 More sorrow at . . ii. 317, 318 
 
 Rydal mournings 
 
 Mount 
 
 Sale at . 
 
 society 
 
 Storm at 
 
 visit, Account of 
 
 Winter time at 
 Ryle. 
 
 . ii. 367 
 
 i. 338, 347; ii. 185, 366 
 
 . ii. 469 
 
 . ii. 343 
 
 . ii. 322 
 
 . ii. 276 
 
 ii. 291 
 
 . ii. 204 
 
 Saardam 
 Sabbatarianism 
 Sabbath, The 
 Sacerdotalism . 
 Sacramental theories . 
 Sac rati, Marchioness 
 Saint Marceau, Countess 
 " Sakontala" . 
 Salm .... 
 Salvage of life . 
 Salvation by belief 
 
 Salzkammergut, Honesty of the peas 
 
 ants in . . 
 Salzmann 
 
 " Samson Agonistes " 
 San Carlo Theatre 
 San Miniato 
 San Salvador 
 Sand 
 
 Sand, George 
 Sandon, Lord . 
 Santa Croce . 
 Satan's empire over matter 
 Savigny, Von 
 
 1.321 
 
 ii. 284 
 i. 462 
 ii. 305 
 ii. 301 
 ii. 151 
 ii. 176 
 i. 121 
 i. 167 
 ii. 456 
 ii. 452 
 
 ii. 253 
 
 i. 133, 134 
 
 . ii. 109 
 
 ii. 126 
 
 . ii 249 
 
 i. 442 
 
 . i. 441 
 
 478 ; ii. 401 
 
 . ii. 330 
 
 ii. 249 
 
 . ii. 29 
 
 55, 79, 80, 87, 135, 394 ; 
 ii. 412 
 on the art of teaching . . i. 87 
 
 Fran . . . . ii. 411 
 
 Savigny s, The ii. 410 
 
 Saul among the Prophets . . ii. 281 
 
 Saunders ii. 15 
 
 Saving grace i. 356 
 
 Savona ii. 242 
 
 Saxe-Gotha, Duke of . . . i. 125 
 Saxe- Weimar, Duke of . . . i. 126 
 
 Duchess of . . . i. 165 
 
 Saxon nobility i. 61 
 
 Saxon Switzerland . . .1. 63, 67 
 
 Saxony i. 58 
 
 Sayer i. 355 
 
 Sayers, Dr. . . . . . i. 15 
 
 Scargill ii. 42 
 
 Scarlett ii. 59 
 
 Scenes of childhood . . . ii. 467 
 
 Scbadow . . . . i. 70, 395; ii. 110 
 
 Schall, Herr von . . . . i. 65 
 
 Scharf, G. . Preface, xviii. ; ii. 476, 487 
 
 ' Schelling i. 57, 81, 82, 83, 84, 88, 95, 106, 
 
 i 110, 112, 115, 131, 195, 244, 249, 412 ; 
 
 I ii. 115, 116 
 
 ! on Bacon and Newton . . i. 107 
 
 i Schiller i. 73, 74, 75, 99, 102, 120, 123,127, 
 
 i 134, 135, 138, 198, 277, 392 ; ii. 7, 15, 
 
 66, 110, 171 
 Death of . . . . i. 137 
 Funeral of . . . . i. 138 
 and Goethe . . . . 1-114 
 
 Frau von . . . i. 392 
 
 Schiller's ^' Bride of Messina " . i. 98 
 
 " Maid of Orleans " . . . 1. 99 
 
 Wilhelm Tell 
 
 119 
 
548 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Schlaberndorf, Count . . i 337 
 
 Schlegel, A. W. i 73, 105, 113, 117, 121, 
 
 133, 205, 256, 261, 271, 291, 293, 352, 
 
 331, 493 ; ii 114, 170, 201 
 
 on Indian philosophy . .1. 294 
 
 SchlegeFs cosmical speculations . 1. 476 
 
 "Julius Caesar" . . . ii. 112 
 
 obligations to Gibbon . . i. 430 
 
 translation of " Twelfth Night " ii. 413 
 
 Schlegel, Friedrich . i. 79, 389; ii. 201 
 
 Madame von . • . ii. 201 
 
 Schlegels, The .... i. 55, 102 
 Schleiermacher . . ii. 19, 103, 415 
 Schleswig grievance . . • ii- 414 
 
 Schlosser, Friedrich and Christian . i. 84 
 
 F. . .1. 133, 339 ; ii. 193, 198 
 
 Frau von . . . ii. 101 
 
 Geheimerath . . . ii. 198 
 
 Hofrath . . . ii. 100, 101 
 
 Schlossers, The . . . i. 85 ; ii. 193 
 
 Schmeller ii. 110 
 
 Schmidt i. 140 
 
 Schnepfenthal, School-boys at .^ }/ ^^ 
 
 Schnorr . . . ^ ^n re . ij nnn 
 
 Schbnhaiiser . 
 School, Model . 
 
 plays 
 School-boy recollections 
 School-fellow, An old . 
 Schoolmaster, The ideal 
 Schulz, Professor 
 Schunck, Mr. . 
 Schuncks, The . 
 Schwarz, Kirchenrath . 
 Schwyz 
 Scotch Antinomianism . 
 
 girl . . . 
 
 journey ii. 188 
 
 law i. 405 
 
 Scotchman, The . . . . ii 284 
 Scotland, East of . . . ii. 187 
 Scots, Queen of . . . . i. 212 
 Scott, Walter i. 206, 210, 248, 311, 461 ; 
 
 ii. 64 
 
 Serviere, Charlotte and Paulina . i. 54 
 Servieres, The . . . . i. 56, 78 
 Sessions business . . . . i. 281 
 Seume . . . i. 69, 71, 72, 75 ; ii. 239 
 Severn ii. 244 
 
 i. 69, 75 ; ii. 239 
 . ii. 413 
 
 i. 133 
 . i. 6 
 
 ii. 47 
 
 ii. 47 
 . ii. 445 
 
 i. 120 
 , ii. 498 
 
 ii. 99 
 . ii. 470 
 
 i 440 
 . ii. 188 
 
 i. 464 
 
 Mrs. . 
 of Bromley 
 Br. . 
 John . 
 Professor . 
 
 PvUSSCU 
 
 Sir William 
 Minstrelsy 
 
 ii. 395, 396 
 
 Scott's 
 
 Sea-shell image, The 
 
 Seals used in Persia 
 
 Seceders, How to treat 
 
 Seclusion, The value of . 
 
 Second sight .... 
 
 Seelej, Professor . 
 
 Seller 
 
 Seizure, A . . . . 
 
 Self-depreciation .... 
 
 Selfishness of saints 
 Self-sacrifice . . . 
 Senate of University College . 
 Senior ...... 
 
 Sennhouse, Mr. 
 
 Separate education for Dissenters 
 
 Separation, the one heresy 
 
 i. 250 
 ii. 21 
 
 i. 409 
 i. 314 
 398, 439 
 ii. 489 
 i. 397 
 i. 219 
 ii. 240 
 i. 412 
 ii. 402 
 i. 321 
 i. 463 
 ii. 495 
 i. 53 
 ii. 501 
 ii. 458 
 ii. 215 
 ii. 420 
 ii. 3)3 
 ii.l3S 
 ii. 233 
 ii. 299 
 ii. 449 
 
 Shaftesbury 
 Shakespeare . 
 
 Anachronism of 
 Sharp (the engraver) 
 Sharpe, Conversation 
 
 Henry . 
 
 Samuel 
 
 Sutton 
 William 
 
 the 
 
 Sharpey, Professor . 
 " She dsvelt among 
 
 ways "... 
 " She Stoops to Conquer ' 
 Shee, Sir M. A. . 
 on Flaxman 
 Sheep and goats . 
 Sheep-shearing dinner . 
 Shelley, P. B. . i. 36J 
 Mrs. . . i 
 
 . i. 79, 100 
 
 i. 205, 331 ; ii. 35 
 
 i. 204 
 
 . i. 34, 35, 303 
 
 ii. 94 
 
 . ii. 406, 487 
 
 ii. 261, 350, 377, 388, 406, 
 
 418, 423, 427 
 
 i. 492 ; ii. 209 
 
 ii. 476 
 
 . ii. 495 
 
 untrodden 
 
 i. 343 
 
 Shelley's " Prometheus " 
 
 son 
 
 . i. 3.88 
 . i. 332 ; ii. 70 
 . ii. 30 
 ii. 396 
 . ii. 244 
 ; ii. 81, 121, 221 
 494; ii. 260, 279 
 ii. 79 
 . ii. 279 
 Shepherd, Attorney-General i. 359, 375 
 
 Dr ii. 17 
 
 Shell i. 238 ; ii. 227 
 
 A ride with . . . . ii. 61 
 
 and the Bishop of Exeter . ii. 206 
 
 Sheridan . . i. 172, 217, 258, 270 
 
 Sherwood i. 357 
 
 Shipley, Bishop . . . . i. 133 
 
 Shutt ii. 85 
 
 Sic transit ii. 146 
 
 Sicard and his deaf and dumb pupils i. 316 
 
 Sicily, Journey to . . . . ii. 127 
 
 Siddons, Mrs. i. 39, 72, 214, 220, 252, 266, 
 
 267,287,317 ; ii. 84, 179, 371, 401, 465, 499 
 
 as the Lady in " Com us " . i. 251 
 
 as Margaret of Anjou . . i. 209 
 
 as Mrs. Beverly . . . i. 244 
 
 in"Pizarro" . . . i. 38 
 
 as Queen Caroline . . . i. 247 
 
 Recollections of . . . ii. 79 
 
 Sidmouth, Lord . . . . i. 371 
 
 Sieveking, Madame . . . i. 149 
 
 William . . . i. 155, 453 
 
 Dr ii. 476 
 
 Sievekings, The . . . . i. 157 
 Sifting old letters . . . ii. 324 
 Simeon advising with the Non-con ii. 342 
 Sinclair i. 387 
 
 Sir James 
 
 Captain 
 
 Sismondi 
 Sisterly counsel 
 Six Acts, The 
 Skey, Dr. . 
 Slander 
 Slave-trade 
 Sleep-walking 
 Sleisch 
 
 Serviere, Charlotte Pref. xii. ; ii. 99, 170, 201 - 
 
 Smirke 
 Smith, Mr. . 
 - Adam 
 
 i. 461 
 
 . ii. 355 
 
 . i. 448; ii. 243 
 
 . i. 229 
 
 i. 414 
 
 . ii. 493 
 
 . ii. 23S 
 
 i. 337 ; ii. 323 
 
 i. 85 
 
 i 325 
 
 . * 11.475,* 476 
 
 . i. 203 
 
 . ii. 472 
 
 . 1. 51 
 
INDEX. 
 
 549 
 
 Smith, Grafton . . . ii. 117 
 
 James and Horace . . i 258 
 
 Sir James . . . . i. 311 
 
 Patty i, 223 
 
 Dr. Pye, on Solomon's Song ii. 262 
 
 Sydney ii. 186, 228, 262, 287, 294, 
 
 388, 450, 476 
 
 : — W.,M. P. for Norwich i. 348, a57, 
 
 407, 413 
 Soane, Sir John . i. 264 ; ii. 69, 70, 71 
 Soane's house and museum . . ii. 70, 71 
 Society of Antiquarians . . ii. 87, 181 
 Soldier, Adventure with a . . i. 291 
 
 Solger i. 366 
 
 Solitude in cultivated country . ii. 258 
 
 Somers, Lord . i. 374 
 
 Sommariva, Count . . . i. 152 
 Sonnets and Sonneteers . . ii. 390 
 
 Sortaine . ii. 361, 362. 378, 379, 443 
 Sotheby . . . . . ' . . i. 266 
 Soult's, Marshal, pictures . . i, 478 
 South's sermon on Man the Image of 
 
 God i. 350 
 
 Southcott, Joanna . . i. 303 ; ii. 314 
 
 Southern . . . . . ii. 14 
 
 Southey i. 35, 41, 186, 206, 207, 208, 233, 
 
 237, 250, 311, 312, 334, a39, 340, 344, 
 
 345, 377, 378, 419 ; ii. 185, 186, 194, 
 
 230, 235, 233, 238, 240, 272, 274, 277, 
 
 289, 307, 357 
 
 Anti-popular views of. . . ii. 238 
 
 asks H. C. R. to write for the 
 
 Quarterly Review . i. 494; ii. 16 
 books, his love of . . . ii. 274 
 civil war, his dread of . . i. 346 
 H. C. R."s tour to France with ii. 266 
 Jeu d'esprit by . . . . ii. 289 
 Letter from, to Hamond . i. 425 
 hkeness between him and Shelley 
 
 i. 369 
 on Blake . . . . i. 217 
 on Blanco White . . . i. 218 
 on Brougham . . . ii. 186 
 on the C intra Convention . . i. 483 
 on Lord Egremont . . ii. 186 
 on English and French courts of 
 
 justice . . . . i. 288 
 on the eternity of future punishment 
 
 ii. 33 
 on Ferdinand of Spain . . i. 340 
 on forms of government . . i. 217 
 on German rule in Italy . i. 482 
 
 on Goethe ii. Ill 
 
 on Hamond . . . . i. 421 
 on Hamond's papers . . , i. 423 
 on imported forms of representa- 
 tive government . . . i. 4^3 
 on non-interference . . i. 482 
 on the old regimes . . . i. 482 
 on politics . . i. 169, 340, 346 
 on politics and morals . . ii, 185 
 on the prospects of England i. 340 
 on his " Wat Tyler " . . i. 357 
 
 The Radicals on . . . ii. 18 
 Verses for children by . . ii. 289 
 Wordsworth's epitaph on . ii. 319 
 letter to his daughter from Paris ii. 267 
 
 Mrs i. 340 
 
 — : — Guthbert . . . . ii. 266 
 
 Southey '3 ♦* Cid " . . i. 363 
 
 "Doctor" .... ii. 272 
 
 justification of his history of the 
 
 Spanish War . . . . i. 481 
 " Kehama," Lamb on . . i. 204 
 refusal to eelit the Times . . i. 379 
 Spa-Fields rioters . . . . i. 3-58 
 Spain, civil wars of . . . . i. 482 
 H. C. R.'s journey to . . i. 173 
 H. C. R.'s love of . . . i. 203 
 Political feeling in . . i. 173 
 
 Spanish ladies i. 180 
 
 language . . . i. 180, 181 
 political agents . . . . i. 186 
 tea-party . . . . i. 178 
 
 Spalding, Mr i. 159 
 
 Spat, Major von . . i. 154, 155, 159 
 SperAator newspaper . . . ii. 489 
 
 Spedding ii. 335 
 
 Spelman, Sir Henry . . . ii. 67 
 
 Spence ii. 140, 471 
 
 Spencer, Lord . . . . ii. 71, 72 
 Spenser . . . . . i. 79 
 Spinoza . . i. 31, 257, 268 ; ii. 22, 198 
 Spirit of persecution . . . ii. 59 
 
 Spittler i. 88 
 
 Spohr with the Non-cons . . ii. 358 
 Sponsors of opposing creeds . . ii. 412 
 Spurrell .... . i. 408 
 
 Spurzheim, Dr. . . . . i. 276 
 
 Squintum, Dr i. 7 
 
 St. Albans, Duke of . . . . ii. 112 
 St. Asupb, Dean of . . . i. 136 
 St. Bride's Church . . . . ii. 24 
 St. Francis d'Assisi . . . ii. 246 
 St. Hilaire, Geofifrey . . . ii. 172 
 
 St. Maurice, Count . . . i. 287 
 St. Peter's chains , . . . ii. 148 
 St. Simonism . . . . ii. 155 
 
 St. Simonites ii. 156 
 
 Church service of . . . ii. 156 
 
 Conference of . . . . ii. 157 
 
 Stachelberg, Ilerr von . . ii. 113 
 
 Stael, Madame de i. 19, 64, 109, 112, 113, 
 
 115, 116, 117, 119, 121, 122, 201,286, 270, 
 
 284, 290, 305, 429, 479 ; ii. 8, 176, 455, 510 
 
 Anecdote of . . . . i. 479 
 
 StaePs, Madame de, Dinner at . i. 269 
 
 "Germany" . . . . i. 271 
 
 " Ten Years- Exile " . . i. 466 
 
 Stafford i. 360 
 
 Marquis of . . . ii. 20 
 
 Stage-coach journey to Belfast . ii. 63 
 
 Stammbuch, Goethe's son's . i. 95 
 
 Stammerers . . . . . i. 316 
 Stanhope, Lord .... i. 40 
 
 Earl of, on H. C. R. . . ii. 507 
 
 Stanley, Bishop . . . ii. 85, 330 
 
 Mrs ii. 85 
 
 Stanley (Dean) . . ii. 85, 397, 496 
 
 Lord ii. 89 
 
 (Earl Derby) . . ii. 185 
 
 Sir T ii. 189 
 
 Stansfeld, Mr., Senr i. 348 
 
 G. i. 150, 152, 154, 156, 163, 348 
 
 H i. 454 
 
 James, M. P. . . ii. 475, 476 
 
 and Mazzini . . ii. 486 
 T i. 387. 408 
 
550 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Stansfelds, The Miss . 
 Starting-point for controversy 
 State trials .... 
 
 of Watson and others 
 Statue, Ancient . 
 Staunton, Sir G. 
 Stavely. Captain . 
 Steffens .... 
 Stephen .... 
 
 Senr. 
 
 Sir James . ii. 21, 68, 
 
 Stephens . . 
 
 'Miss .... 
 
 Listen, and Farren 
 Stephenson, Mr. . 
 Sterling . 
 Sterne . 
 Sterry, Anthony 
 Steward, Dr. 
 Stewart, Dr. 
 
 Dugald 
 
 Lord 
 
 Stiles, Lieutenant 
 
 Stilling . 
 
 Stillingfleet . 
 
 Stock 
 
 Stockholm, beauty of situation 
 
 Voyage to . 
 Stoddart, Dr. 
 Stokes 
 
 Charles 
 
 Stolherg . 
 The Counts 
 
 i. 47, 188 
 
 433, 472, 480 
 
 i. 274 
 
 i.337 
 
 i. 415 
 
 . ii. 231 
 
 i. 333, 331 
 
 " ii. 114 
 
 ii. 31 
 
 ii. 67 
 
 Stone .... 
 
 Frank 
 
 Stonehenge 
 
 Storks i. 267,281; ii. 8, 19 
 
 Storms at Rydal 
 Stowe, Mrs. H. B. 
 Stratford-on-Avon . 
 Strauss .... 
 
 Strayed Poet, The . 
 Street, G., A.R.A. ii. 468, 475 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 *' Strictures," Publication of the 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson on ' 
 Strutt .... 
 
 Ben . 
 
 (Lord Belper) 
 
 Student (Swiss) . 
 Students . 
 
 Russian, at Jena 
 Students' duels 
 
 festivals 
 
 life at Jena 
 
 quarrels with town authorities 
 
 trick on a landlord 
 Studies, German 
 
 Review of 
 Study of Italian 
 
 of science 
 Sturch, Mrs. 
 
 Miss . 
 
 Sturges, Rev. J. 
 Sturm . 
 Summons from King Dan 
 Sunday labor 
 
 1.205 
 ii. 48 
 i. 17 
 
 i. 359 
 i. 458 
 ii. 88 
 i 
 
 294 
 i. 352 
 ii. 168 
 i. 270 
 
 418 
 i. 384 
 i. 175 
 i. 395 
 i.200 
 ii. 453 
 i. 165 
 i. 163 
 
 Sunday, Weariness of , . . i. 6 
 Superstition, Act of . . i. 144 
 
 Supper-party, A . . . . ii. 63 
 Surpassing enjoyments . . i. 443 
 Sussex, Duke of . . i. 295;H. 83 
 
 Suwarrow i. 69 
 
 Swabey i. 335 
 
 Swanwicks, The Miss . , . ii. 483 
 Sweden, Journey in . . . . i. 167 
 Swedenborg . . . ii. 28, 30, 33, 74 
 Swedish hospitality . . . . i. 164 
 people. Civility and honesty of i. 167 
 politics . . . . i. 133, 167 
 
 Swift i. 11, 3S2 ; ii. 60 
 
 Swindler, A, and H. C. R. . . ii. 442 
 Sydenham . . . . i. 833, 331 
 
 Sykes, Godfrey i. 872 
 
 Sylvester, Mot of . . . . ii. 837 
 Symbolism of ornament . . . i. £95 
 Symonds, John . . . . i. 19 
 
 Syntax, Dr i. 188 
 
 System of checks a desideratum . ii. 155 
 
 333 ; ii. 320 
 
 ii. 20, 88 
 
 . ii. 70 
 
 . i. 254 
 
 i. 107 
 
 . ii. 238 
 
 . ii. 458 
 
 . i. 474 
 
 , 30, 71, 360, 
 
 367 
 
 ii. 273, 275 
 
 . ii. 429 
 
 . ii. 482 
 
 ii. 354 
 
 . ii. 252 
 
 476, 484. 498 
 
 ii. 484, 498 
 
 ii. 265 
 
 the ii. 233 
 
 i.336 
 
 1. 13, 14, 15, 350 
 
 . ii. 207 
 
 i. 4il 
 
 . j.126 
 
 i. 95 
 
 i. 95, 96, 97 
 
 i. 94 
 
 i. 82, 93 
 
 i. 110, 
 
 111 
 
 i. 129 
 
 . i. 172 
 
 i. Ill 
 
 . ii. 87 
 
 . ii. 131 
 
 . ii. 437 
 
 ii. 495, 501 
 
 . ii. 50 
 
 393 
 
 1 
 
 ii. 57 
 i. 450 
 
 Tagart, Rev. E. 
 
 Talfourd, Sir T. N. 
 310, 313, 349, 
 476,491,492 
 257,260,264, 
 a Judge 
 about Lamb . 
 Junr. . 
 
 Talfourd's, At 
 
 call to the Bar 
 "Ion" . 
 "Lamb" 
 
 . ii. 423,428 
 
 22,246,232,238,264, 
 
 364, 378, 383, 404, 411, 
 
 ; ii. 27, 91, 204, 219, 
 
 345, 355, 359, 337, 439 
 
 . ii. 887 
 
 . ii. 213 
 
 . ii. 337 
 
 . ii. 15 
 
 . i. 456 
 
 . ii. 229 
 
 . ii. 375 
 
 marriage . . . . i. 479 
 
 rise in the world . . . ii. 227 
 
 Talleyrand . . . . i. 284; ii. 170 
 
 Bon mot of . .1. 479 ; ii. 455 
 
 Talma . . . i. 290, 334, 335, 383 
 
 Tamerlane . . . . . i. 324 
 
 Tasso i. 55, 101 
 
 Tate, Canon ii. 316 
 
 Tayler, Rev. J. J. Preface, xvi. ; ii. 419, 
 444, 465, 470, 475, 476, 477, 49f 
 
 Taylor i. 314 
 
 Adam i. 229 
 
 Edgar . i. 455 ; ii. 17, 358, 482 
 
 — Emily . 
 
 — Henry 
 
 — Henry, Mrs. . 
 
 — Isaac . 
 
 on aberration of mind 
 
 — J. E. . 
 
 ii. 476, 482, 500 
 
 ii. 6, 7, 138, 475 
 
 . ii. 359 
 
 . ii. 273, 278 
 
 . ii. 278 
 
 . ii. 358 
 
 . ii. 2, 4, 63 
 
 i. 311, 312 
 . ii. 63 
 
 Jeremy . 
 
 John (author) . 
 
 John (Dr.) . 
 
 John (Mining Engineer) ii. 230, 3j4, 
 
 373, 437, 450, 476 
 
 —Mrs. Meadows . . . ii. 280 
 
 Richard i. 26, 314 ; ii. 17, 270, 423 
 
 Sydney il. 279 
 
 WilUam i. 15, 13, 27, 72, 74, 420, 
 
 421,481 
 
 Taylor's ** Natural History of Enthusi- 
 asm " ii. 278 
 
 "Physical Theory of Another 
 
 Life" . . . . . . ii. 278 
 
 " Spiritual Dttspotism" . ii. 278 
 
INDEX. 
 
 651 
 
 Taylors, The, of Diss . . . ii. 280 
 
 The, of Norwich i. 16, 314 ; ii. 476 
 
 Tempest, Lady Frances Vane . . 1.384 
 
 Temple 1. 213 
 
 Lord i. 53 
 
 Tennemann . . . . . i. 110 
 Tenterden, Lord . . .1- 373, 410 
 Tennyson . . . . ii. 335, 385 
 
 Teplitz i. 64 
 
 Terni ii. 247 
 
 Term-keeping i. 190 
 
 Terry, Miss Kate . . . . ii. 493 
 
 Tertulias i. 175 
 
 Test-Act dinner . . . . ii. 84 
 Test and Corporation Act, Repeal of ii. 79 
 Testa, Countess . . . . ii. 134 
 Thackeray's " Esmond " . . . ii. 426 
 ** Thalaba ■' and " Castle of Indolence " 
 
 i. 218 
 Thanksgiving of an octogenarian . ii. 464 
 "The Kitten and the Falhng Leaves" 
 
 i.342 
 "Leech-gatherer" . . i.342 
 " Oak and the Broom " . . i. 342 
 Poet worshipped, not the politician 
 
 ii. 344 
 
 Slaves of nature are atheists . ii. 39 
 
 Theatre, Covent Garden i. 205, 240, 244 
 
 Thelwall i. 17, 42, 43, 217, 239, 244, 283, 
 
 303, 315, 316, 325, 395 
 
 married i. 359 
 
 Mrs i. 303 
 
 Thelwall's, At i. 210 
 
 —Mrs., death . . . 1.353 
 
 Theological speculation . . .1. 411 
 Theology, Schemes of . . . ii. 209 
 Thibaut . . . . i. 135 ; ii. 100 
 Things too wonderful for us ii. 441, 442 
 Thirst for knowledge leads beyond our 
 
 depth ii. 441 
 
 Thistlethwaite . . . . i. 358 
 
 Tholuck ii. 449 
 
 Thompson, Dr. . . . i. 348 ; ii. 247 
 
 Dr. A. Todd . . . .11. 364 
 
 Dr. Seth .... 11. 120 
 
 Miss ii. 119 
 
 R. A i. 69, 70 
 
 Thomson i. 218 
 
 Rev— . . . i. 461, 462 
 
 the Edinburgh publisher . ii. 284 
 
 Thornton 1. 153, 154, 370, 371 ; ii. 32 
 
 Thorold, Sir John . . . i. 268 
 Thorwaldsen . . . . ii. 120, 141 
 and scandal . . , . ii. 150 
 Thorwaldsen's studio . . , ii. 246 
 Thoughts in sickness . . . ii. 393 
 
 Three friends ii, 465 
 
 Threescore years and ten . . ii. 402 
 Three sermons in one day . . ii, 382 
 Thurlow, Lord .... 1. 216 
 
 on the Athanasian Creed . .1. 487 
 and the Estabhshed Church . 1. 243 
 Thurlow's, Lord, advice how to annoy 
 parsons . . . . . .1. 487 
 
 Churchism . . . . i. 487 
 
 Thwaites 11. 46 
 
 Tiarks, Dr. . . i. 278, 293, 807 ; 11. 87 
 
 Ticknor ii, 243 
 
 Ticknors, The . . . . 11. 249 
 
 Tieck, Ludwig i. 55, 102, 121, 196, 291, 
 
 352, 351, 362, 363, 334 ; ii. 113, 115, 
 
 116, 195, 410, 413, 480 
 
 on Catholicism . . . .1. 354 
 
 on English classics . . ii. 114 
 
 on English poets . . .1. 336 
 
 on Wordsworth . . . ii. 174 
 
 Tieck's, Dinner at . . . . ii. 113 
 
 opinion of English poetry . 1. 356 
 
 prologue to " Faust " . .11. 113 
 
 readings . . . . ii. 115 
 
 " November the 15th " . .11. 115 
 
 " NVassermensch " . .11. 231 
 
 Tiedemann, Professor . . . 1. 79 
 
 Tiedge, author of " Urania" . ii. 114 
 
 Tiofurth .... 1. 393 
 
 Tillbrook, Mr. . 1. 338, 339, 378 ; ii. 65 
 
 Times, Connection with . . . i. 169 
 
 dinner-party . . i. 333, 381 
 
 H. C. R. writer for the . . 1. 168 
 
 The 1.218 
 
 The, now and in former days . ii. 320 
 
 Writers in the . . . i. 187 
 
 Timidity of old Reformers . . ii. 155 
 
 Tindal, Lord Chief Justice . . 1. 264 
 
 Tipper i. 146, 188 
 
 Tite 1.359, 397 
 
 Titian . . . . i. 236 ; 11. 75 
 Tivoli . . . . . .11. 245 
 
 Tobin 1. 251 
 
 Tode ...... 1.165 
 
 Tooke 1.267 
 
 ^ Home i. 39. 53, 90, 210, 274 ; ii. 288 
 
 and his school-boy philosophy 1. 356 
 "Russia" . . . . 1.242 
 
 Senr., and Mrs. Tooke . .1. 216 
 
 William . . .11. 81, 267, 412 
 
 Topfer 1.58,59 
 
 Topping . . . • . i. 372 
 Torlonia . . i. 337, 338, 339, 341, 350 
 Torlonia's short memory . . ii. 118 
 Torrens, Justice . . . . 11. 46 
 Tralee, Journey to . . . . ii. 56 
 Translating, Engagement in . 1. 146 
 Translation from Richter . . 1. 231 
 
 Transubstantiation and consubstantia- 
 
 tion ii. 302 
 
 Trappists, Visit to . . . ii. 11 
 Travelling companions i. 292, 318 ; ii. 266 
 
 Travers, Miss ii. 472 
 
 Treason trials . . 1. 358, 350, 361 
 
 Tree, Miss Ellen . . 1. 263 ; ii. 229 
 
 Trelawney ii. 237 
 
 Trial of agricultural rioters . . 1.334 
 
 of Hardy, Tooke, and Thelwall i. 17 
 
 of Hone .... i. 373-376 
 
 of Sir T. More . . . i. 416 
 
 Triquetti's Marmor Homericum . ii. 492 
 
 Trotter . . . 1.435,438,439,448 
 
 ii. 50 
 
 . ii. 300 
 
 ii. 6 
 
 . 11 442 
 
 ii. 316 
 
 ii. 44, 70 
 
 . 11. 68 
 
 Troy, Dr. . 
 True Catholic Church 
 Truro, Lord 
 Truth, A, to be had 
 
 in popular error 
 Tulk, Mr. 
 
 the Misses 
 
 Tuthill, Dr i. 202 
 
 Turner, Dawson . . . ii. 5, 19, 66 
 
 Visit to ii. 66 
 
552 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Turner's (Dawson) autographs . ii. 66 
 collection of MSS. . . ii. 68 
 
 house ii. 66 
 
 Mr. and Mrs., hospitality . ii. 68 
 
 Turner, Mrs ii. 66 
 
 Miss . * . . . ii. 67 
 
 J.M. W., R. A. . i. 245, 247, 406 
 
 and other landscape painters 
 
 compared . . . . ii. 20 
 Turner's landscapes . . . i. 387 
 Turner, Sharon . . . i. 242, 312 
 Turrets guarded by San Salvador . i. 442 
 Twiss, Horace . i. 186, 213, 258,267, 281, 
 
 288; ii. 213 
 " Two Angry Women of Abingdon" ii. 297 
 Tyndall, Professor . . . i. 97, 107 
 Tyrtaeus i. 140 
 
 Uhlmann 
 
 Uncle, H. C. R.'s, death . 
 Underlying truths . 
 Unitarian preaching . 
 University studies . 
 College 
 
 and Flaxman's works 
 
 order of Fellows created 
 
 pro.spects . 
 
 Racket court 
 
 — education 
 
 degrees 
 
 Hall . . . . 
 
 Dinner of the founders of 
 
 First stone of . 
 
 fund ... ii. 
 
 opened . . . . 
 
 open to all religions 
 
 scheme of, set afloat 
 
 Usher, J 
 
 Usury case . . . . 
 
 . ii. 197 
 
 i. 27 
 
 . ii. 221 
 
 ii. 262 
 
 81, 82, 83 
 
 ii. 82, 500 
 
 . ii.364 
 
 ii. 423 
 
 . ii. 422 
 
 ii. 486 
 
 . u. 441 
 
 ii. 465 
 
 . ii. 354 
 
 ii. 373 
 
 . ii. 373 
 
 504, 505, 506 
 
 . ii. 391 
 
 ii. 373 
 
 ii. 358, 367 
 
 ii. 214 
 
 . i. 397 
 
 . ii. 247 
 ii. 135 
 
 466 
 
 Val d'Arno . . . . . ii 
 
 "Vallombrosa . . . . ii 
 
 Valpy, Dr. . i. 262, 263, 307 ; ii 
 
 Value of recorded gossip . . ii. 398 
 
 Vardill, Mrs ii. 73 
 
 Miss i. 298,466 
 
 Varese ii. 446 
 
 Vatican, Visit to, with Gibson . ii. 244 
 
 Vaucluse ii. 241 
 
 Vaughan i. 401 
 
 Veit, the famous preacher . . ii. 116 
 
 the painter . . . ii. 201 
 
 Venice ii. 117 
 
 from the tower of St. Mark's ii 252 
 
 Veraguas, Duke of . . . . i. 177 
 
 Verbal inspiration . . . ii. 409 
 
 Vere, Aubrey de . . . . ii. 402 
 
 Vernet, Horace, his facility at work ii. 148 
 
 H. C. R.'s misconception of . ii. 149 
 
 Vernet's, Soiree at . . . ii. 148 
 
 Veronese, Paul i. 332 
 
 Vespers at the inn in the Tyrol . ii. 253 
 
 " Vestiges of Creation " . . ii. 323 
 Vestris, Madame . . .1. 428, 454, 473 
 
 Vesuvius ii. 126 
 
 Vico ii. 22 
 
 Vienna ii. 116 
 
 Villa d'Este ii. 246 
 
 Villers, Charles . Preface, xv. ; i. 150 
 
 Vincennes i. 283 
 
 Vinter ii. 4i 
 
 Virgil . i. 55, 205 
 
 Voigt, Geheimerath . . i. 80, 81 
 
 Professor i. 123, 142 ; ii. 104, 106, 
 
 111, 170, 288 
 Voltaire i. 69,99,200,222,324 ; ii. 39,284, 
 
 285 
 
 Bust of . 
 
 on Shakespeare 
 Voltaire's mission 
 Von Arnims, The . 
 Von Hofer . 
 Von Leonhardi 
 Von Stein, Baron 
 Voss, Professor 
 Voss's " Louisa " 
 
 ii. 263 
 
 . i. 380 
 
 ii. 34 
 
 . ii. 413 
 
 ii. 410 
 
 . ii. 99 
 
 ii. 101 
 
 107, 108. 136, 364 
 
 i. 108, 109 
 
 Protestantism . . . . i. 107 
 
 Voyage from Hamburg to England i. 144 
 
 down the Thames . . . i. 477 
 
 to the North Pole . . i. 242 
 
 to Sweden . . . . i. 163 
 
 Voysey, The Rev. . . . ii. 487 
 
 Waddington i. 52 
 
 Miss ii. 120 
 
 Wade, Joshua . . . . i. 384 
 Wager of battle, Last . . . i. 370 
 
 Waggett ii. 48 
 
 Wagner, Dr. . . . Preface, xviii 
 
 Wake, Kyd i. 21 
 
 Wakefield, Gilbert i. 22, 35, 36, 39, 40, 
 127, 144, 278, 279, 459 
 
 m prison 
 
 — Mrs. 
 
 — Miss 
 
 Waldegrave, Captain 
 Mr. . 
 
 Waldron, Mr. 
 Walduck the Quaker 
 Wall, Anton 
 
 Walter, Mr. i. 148, 168, 169, 
 
 189, 218, 241, 264, 303, 337, 338, 350, 362, 
 
 379, 405, 407, 415 ; ii. 32, 216, 350 
 
 Death-bed of . . . ii. 357 
 
 42 
 
 . i. 39, 42 
 
 . i. 144 
 
 i. 336 
 
 . i.6,9 
 
 ii. 205 
 
 . i. 434 
 
 i. 60, 104, 231 
 
 173, 187, 188, 
 
 Mrs. 
 
 at Bearwood 
 John . 
 John, Junr. 
 
 i. 212; 
 
 Walpole, Horace 
 
 Walton 
 
 Waltzing 
 
 Wanr<ey 
 
 Warburton 
 
 Ward .... 
 
 Plumer 
 
 Waring, Major Scott . 
 Wartburg, Castle of 
 Warton , Joseph . 
 
 T. 
 
 " Wat Tyler," Southey's 
 
 Waterland 
 
 Waterloo, Battle of . 
 
 Field of . 
 
 Tour to 
 
 Bridge opened . 
 Watkins 
 Watson, Trial of 
 
 Sculptor . 
 
 i Watson's statue of Flaxman 
 
 ii. a50 
 
 ii. 388 
 
 . i. 146 
 
 ii. 349, 353 
 
 ii. 293, a54 
 
 i. 322, 369, 879 
 
 . i. 49 
 
 n. »» 
 ii. 213, 278 
 ii. 20 
 ii. 294 
 i. 385 
 i. 80 
 ii. 311 
 i.278 
 i. 857 
 i. 225 
 i. 315 
 i. 319 
 i. 318 
 i 332 
 i. 318 
 i. 358, 360, 361, 362 
 ii 356 
 ii. 405 
 
INDEX. 
 
 553 
 
 Watts, Dr i. 160 
 
 " Waverley," First appearance of . i. 304 
 «* We are SeTen " . . . ii. 222 
 
 Weber i. 246 
 
 Webster, D ii. 280 
 
 Wed(i, George . . . . i. 190 
 
 Mr i. 190,323 
 
 Wedgwood ii. 479 
 
 Weimar . . . . i. 69 ; ii. Ill 
 Court at . . i. 119, 127, 390, 391 
 Leave-taking at . . . i. 142 
 
 Party at . . . . i. 138 
 
 Town of i. 75 
 
 Theatre. . . i. 73, 74, 98, 392 
 Weimar, Duke of . i. 113, 115, 275, 392 
 
 Crown Prince of . . i. 390 
 
 Duchess Dowager of . .1. 126 
 
 Grand Duchess of . . i. 391 
 
 Regent of . . . . i. 126 
 
 Weishaupt, Adam . . i. 124, 126 
 
 Writings of . . . . i. 126 
 
 Wellesley, Marquis of . . i. 169, 265 
 Wellesleys, The . . . i. 333, 381 
 Wellington, Duke of i. 283, 318, 362 ; ii. 80, 
 
 334 
 
 and Marlborough . . . i, 432 
 
 Welshman at Chemnitz . . 1. 60 
 
 Werner i. 137, 389 
 
 Wesley, John . i. 12, 248 ; ii. 314, 316 
 
 Miss .... i. 248,249 
 
 Samuel . . . . i. 248 
 
 Wesleyan's, A, notion of grace . i. 357 
 West, Benjamin . . i. 278, 384 ; ii. 258 
 
 Mr 1.332 
 
 Mrs. W i. 430 
 
 Westall . . . . i. 276 ; ii. 183 
 
 Junior . . . . i. 340 
 
 Westminster, Dean of . . . ii. 85 
 election. . . . . 1.389 
 
 Westmoreland, Lord . . . ii. 413 
 Weston, Miss . . ii. 320, 443, 453 
 Westphal . . . . . . ii. 122 
 
 WethereU, Sir C. . . i. 359, 360, 361 
 
 Wetzlar . . . • . . i. 56 
 
 Whately ii. 315 
 
 Whewell, Dr ii. 397 
 
 Universality of his pursuits . ii. 287 
 
 Whist club "-31 
 
 Whi taker, Seigeant . . . i. 355 
 Whitbread . . . i. 258, 267, 335 
 Whitbread's death . . . i. 317 
 
 White, Blanco 1. 218 
 
 • Mr. (soUcitor) . . .1. 23, 313 
 
 Whitgift, Archbishop . . . i. 327 
 Whittington . . . . 1 298 
 
 '•Who's Who?" . . . .1.326 
 Why Eve was made of a man's rib ii. 202 
 Why are morals so difficult? . . ii. 434 
 Why time flies in old age . . ii. 458 
 
 Wicksteed, Rev. C ii. 224 
 
 Wide-world religion . . ii. 449 
 
 Wieland i. 48, 55, 67, 69, 70, 71, 75, 79, 99, 
 
 108, 112, 117, 127, 128, 135, 139, 
 
 140,142,393; ii. 112 
 
 Bust of . . i. 395 ; ii. 110 
 
 on Schiller's poetry . . 1. 138 
 
 Wieland's " Musarion " . . . 1.139 
 
 Wiesbaden 1. 50 
 
 Wigan ii. 493 
 
 24 
 
 Wightman . . . . . 11. 19 
 Wilberforce i. 223, 276, 407, 489 ; ii. 215, 
 
 306,480 
 and Clarkson controversy ii. 268, 269, 
 
 270 
 
 Archdeacon . . . , ii. 305 
 
 Bishop of Oxford 11. 269, 270, 427 
 
 Henry Ii. 402 
 
 Wilde, Serjeant . . . . 11. 5 
 
 Wildwood 11. 428 
 
 Wilkes, John . 1. 61, 192, 474 : ii. 238 
 
 Wilkie, D ii. i84, 194 
 
 Wilkinson 1 229 
 
 Dr. J. G. . 11. 372, 377, 476, 491 
 
 Tate i. 474 
 
 Willes, Justice 1. 302 
 
 Williams 1. 318 
 
 (bookseller) . . . 1.371,375 
 
 Helen Maria . . . 1. 367 
 
 Williams's, Dr., hbrary . . .11. 478 
 
 Willis, N. P 11. 207 
 
 Wilmott, Rev, Mr., his sermon . 11. 388 
 
 Wilson, Sir R 1. 330 
 
 Dr ii. 168 
 
 Professor . . . 11. 220, 312 
 
 Winckelmann . . . . 1. 57, 76 
 Windham . . . . i. 16, 188, 198 
 
 Windischmann, Dr ii. 99 
 
 Winter walk in the mountains . Ii. 276 
 
 Wirgmann 1. 382 
 
 Wismar, Companions at . . i. 161 
 
 Witham, At 1. 458 
 
 Wolcott, Dr. . . . i. 210,211 
 
 Wolf . . . i. 108, 109 ; 11. 22, 480 
 WoUstonecraft, Mary . . . i. 37, 134 
 Wolzogen, Frau von 1. 134. 392 ; 11. 104 
 Women, Against strong-minded . 1.234 
 
 Wood ii. 19 
 
 Baron, working for a non-suit 1. 352 
 
 John . . . . 1. 468 ; ii. 17 
 
 Wooden bridges at Lucerne . . 1. 436 
 Woolman, John . . . . 11. 7, 33 
 Woolman's Journal . . . Ii. 1 
 
 Words have as many, interpretations as 
 
 readers ii. 327 
 
 Wordsworth, Preface, vl., xvi., 1. 20, 35, 40, 
 
 41, 79, 107, 167, 169, 170, 189, 207, 228, 
 
 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 251, 253, 
 
 263, 278, 297, 299, 301, 304, 306, 309, 310, 
 
 312, 316, 330, 331, 338, 339, 340, 341, 342, 
 
 343, 346, 348, 351, 369, 451, 452,467, 485, 
 
 486, 489, 490 ; ii. 5, 7, 19, 26, 27, 30, 36, 
 
 38, 40, 65, 74, 94, 103, 124, 188, 191, 204, 
 
 206, 207, 214, 216, 218, 219, 221, 229, 239, 
 
 242, 253, 257, 260, 265, 272, 273,274, 290, 
 
 295, 296, 297, 298, 308, 309, 319, 321, 333, 
 
 355, 356, 359, 366, 367, 371, 376, 382, 383, 
 
 aS5, 386, 390, 399, 453, 494, 516, 517 
 
 an alarmist . . . . 11. 169 
 
 at a Cumberland auction . i. 345 
 
 at Charles Aikin's . . .1. 246 
 
 at the grave of H. C. R.'s mother 
 
 ii. 290 
 at home . . . . i. 338 
 at St. Peter's . . . . ii. 242 
 careless of relics . . . ii. 242 
 Characteristic incident of . .11. 252 
 and Coleridge, Misunderstanding 
 between i 260 
 
654 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Wordsworth, composing . . i. 471 
 
 Day with i. 484 
 
 and Faber . . . . ii. 302 
 and Godwin . . . . i. 331 
 Hazlitt's attack on . . i. 313 
 II. C. R.'s tour with . . . ii. 187 
 immortal fame . . . ii. 397 
 Human interests uppermost with 
 
 ii. 241 
 introduced to Bunsen . . ii. 243 
 Italian tours with i. 434 ; ii. 187, 240, 
 
 ^ 268 
 
 and Lamb i. 431 
 
 Last visit to . . . - }}- 384 
 meeting about a monument to ii. 397 
 and Moore . . • • .?• 484 
 not intolerant .... ii. 233 
 on the *' Ancient Mariner " ii. 222 
 
 on Arnold ii- 323 
 
 on Byron . . . . ii. 481 
 on Chatterton . . . . ii. 293 
 on " Death and Dr. Hornbook " i. 249 
 on Ebenezer Elliott . . . ii. 223 
 on English copyright in America ii. 260 
 on good Churchmen . . ii. 490 
 
 onHallam , . . . ii. 353 
 on his critics . . . . ii. 211 
 on his domestic poems . . ii. 294 
 on his home treasures . . ii. 95 
 on his own childhood . . ii. 224 
 on his own poems . . i. 245, 250 
 on Landor's satire . . ii. 240 
 on Milton . . . . . ii. 220 
 on Milton's Satan . . ii. 221 
 
 on naturalistic poets . . ii. 272 
 on Norway . . . . ii. 94 
 on old-age travelling . . ii. 94 
 on other poets . . . ii. 223 
 on the penny post . . . ii. 285 
 on the poets . . . . ii. 292 
 on politics ..... i. 250 
 on Talfourd's copyright efforts ii. 264 
 on'*TamO'Shanter" . . i. 249 
 on the Reform Bill . . ii. 180 
 on the sonnet . . . . ii. 223 
 on " We are Seven " . . i. 251 
 
 Pantheism ascribed to 
 
 . i.30O 
 
 revisits Como 
 
 ii. 250 
 
 Rogers on . 
 
 . ii. 41 
 
 Sight-seeing with . 
 
 ii. 244 
 
 Study of . 
 
 . ii. 459 
 
 suggests H. C. R.'s autobiography 
 
 ii. 302 
 Swiss tour with . . . i. 433 
 Talk about . . . . i. 299 
 Talk with . . . . i. 245 
 
 Talk with, about Dissenters' Chapels 
 
 Bill ii. 333 
 
 the English Goethe . . ii. 461 
 the Poet of Common Things . i. 309 
 Tiock on .... ii. 461 
 
 in town i. 373 
 
 Walk with . . . . i. 247 
 Wet walk with . . . . i. 341 
 With, up Nab Scar . . i. 347 
 Wordsworth's alterations in his poems 
 
 i.309 
 attachment to his friends . . ii. 286 
 "Brownie" . . . i. 463 
 
 275 
 268 
 473 
 
 i. 470 
 ii. 462 
 ii. 406 
 ii. 37 
 i. 470 
 ii.344 
 ii. 277 
 ii. 460 
 ii. 37 
 
 Wordsworth's Chartist sympathies .ii. 369 
 conversation . . . . ii. 302 
 conversation and poems . . i. 341 
 death . • . . . ii. 397 
 dedication to H. C. R. . . ii. 256 
 Elegiac poem on Goddard . i. 438 
 ''Excursion" . . . i. 279, 296 
 *' Eclectic " review of . i. 300 
 " Edinburgh " review of . i. 301 
 
 father i. 344 
 
 funeral ii. 397 
 
 habit of thought . . . ii. 293 
 High-Churchism . . . ii. 3U3 
 Highland tour . . . . ii. 164 
 house and family . . . i. 339 
 Human Life poems . . . ii. 37 
 influence on Byron . . ii. 459 
 interest in men . . . . ii. 
 Italian sonnets . . . ii. 
 "Memorials" . . . . i. 
 Memorials of a Tour on the Conti- 
 nent i. 
 
 Memorials of Tours 
 
 monument 
 
 nature poems 
 
 new poems, On . 
 
 open-air study 
 
 opinion of Gladstone's work 
 
 own appreciation of his works 
 
 poems. Classification of 
 
 Poems especially characteristic of 
 
 ii. 461 
 poems, first love, then study them 
 
 ii. 463 
 poems, Order in which they should 
 
 be read ii. 460 
 
 poems of The Age . . . ii. 37 
 poems of Humanity . . . ii. 212 
 poems, Origin and purpose of sev- 
 eral of . . . . . . i. 342 
 
 poems, Wisdom of, if reduced to 
 prose ... . . . ii. 462 
 
 poetry ii. 412 
 
 political pamphlets . . . ii. 276 
 politics . . . . . i. 331 
 political poems n?7 after 1814 
 portrait by Pickersgill 
 railway sonnets . 
 religious comprehensiveness 
 religious poems 
 sonnets . 
 
 talk about his boyhood 
 
 " Waggoner" . 
 
 want of vulgar intelligibility 
 
 " White Doe of Rylstone " 
 
 wishes about a memoir 
 
 "Yew Trees" . . . . i. 309 
 
 University honors . . ii. 268 
 
 Wordsworth, Mrs. i. 308, 311 ; ii. 95, 218, 
 
 322,366,384,385,390,397, 
 
 401,405,416,435,436 437 
 
 Continental journal of . . i. 493 
 
 Death of . . . . . ii. 468 
 
 Miss i. 145, 192, 309, 432 ; ii. 31, 64, 
 
 117, 185, 190, 217, 319, 385 
 
 Dora . . i. 193 : ii. 163, 218 
 
 Dr. C. . i. 458 ; U. 230, 397, 401 
 
 Jane .... ii. 436, 437 
 
 John . . ii 451 
 
 180 
 338 
 462 
 38 
 461 
 385 
 ii. 387 
 i. 311 
 i. 311 
 ii. 397 
 
INDEX. 
 
 555 
 
 Wordsworth, William 
 W., the third 
 
 . ii. 486, 488 
 ii. 475 
 
 Worldly texts ii. 67 
 
 Worship, Mr ii. 66 
 
 Worsiey, P. . ii. 475, 476, 477, 484, 493 
 Would persecution be right if effect- 
 ual ? ii. 232 
 
 Wraxail,SirN. W i. 323 
 
 Wren, Mr ii. 491 
 
 Wright ii. 445 
 
 Walter . . i. 18, 19, 21, 230 
 
 Written and extempore discourses ii. 362 
 Wrong judgment from mere words ii 43i) 
 Wurzburg, Visit to . . . i. 129 
 
 Wynn, Mr i. 407 : ii. 43 
 
 Wyon .... ii. 355,410 
 
 Wyse and O'Coxmell , . . ii 57 
 
 ; WyviU i. 26 
 
 ! 
 
 i Yarmouth Church . . . . ii. 67 
 Yates, James . . . ii. 358, 423 
 
 : Yonge i. 386 
 
 ; York, Archbishop of . . . ii. 80 
 
 : Young, Dr ii. 95 
 
 j Charles i. 25, 240, 244, 323, 384 : 
 
 I ii. 105, 19 J, 318 
 
 I and Kemble . . . . i. 240 
 j in " The Stranger " . . i. 304 
 
 George . . ii. 183, 187, 263, 402 
 
 Young's, Dinner at ... 1. 276 
 
 Zelter 
 Zenobio 
 
 ii. 110, 199, 295, 480 
 . ii. 101 
 
 THE END 
 
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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