Of that part of our author’s life, which includes the last two years he spent in England before his going abroad, I am enabled to give the reader a more satisfactory account from his own papers. During almost the whole of this time, he kept a diary, and though this diary is not filled with great events, or striking reverses of fortune, it exhibits a perfect picture of the life, habits, and amusements of a literary man. It is my wish to bring the reader as nearly acquainted as I can with the subject of these memoirs; and I know no better way of doing this, than by exhibiting in his own words almost every thought or circumstance which passed through his mind during the above period. From hence we may form some notion of the rest. This diary will occupy a very disproportionate space to the rest of the work; but if it should be found tedious, I shall have erred grievouslyin judgment. There are some personalities in the original which are omitted; and others which may still be thought improper. But I believe no greater liberties are taken with the names of living characters, than are to be found in Boswell’s Life of Johnson, and other sources of literary anecdote.
Mr Holcroft began his Diary in June, 1798.—It is as follows.
‘I have long felt a desire to keep memorandums of the common occurrences of life, and have now made a determination which I think will not easily be shaken, to keep a
June22nd.—Called on Mr Armstrong, relative to my disease; advises me to take oil of almonds, and rhubarb. Called on Mr Shield, saw him—On Mr and Mrs. Opie, both ill.—Wrote to Mr Reynolds, bookseller, to settle the account—Wrote to Mr Colman, who called when I was out.—Went to Debrett’s: the opinion of Mr Weld is, that the force sent over by government will be sufficient to quell the Irish insurrectionfor the present: believes Dundas averse to the coercion used in that country, and to the Beresfords, &c. R. Ad—says Windham, out of the house rails at the Irish system, that Lord Fitz—the D— D— &c. are averse to it; that the D— P— is for it, as well as that part of the cabinet, called the King’s friends. Professor Porson dined with me: made as usual numerous amusing quotations, and among the rest cited the following passage from Middleton’s preface, as one of the most manly, beautiful, and full of genius that he had ever read. “I persuade myself that the life and faculties of man, at the best but short and limited, cannot be employed more rationally or laudably than in the search of knowledge; and especially of that sort which relates to our duty, and conduces to our happiness. In these inquiries, therefore, wherever I perceive any glimmering of truth before me, I readily pursue and endeavour to trace it to its source, without any reserve or caution of pushing the discovery too far, or opening too great a glare of it to the public. I look upon the discovery of any thing which is true, as a valuable acquisition to society; which cannot possibly hurt or obstruct the good effect of any other truth whatsoever: for they all partake of one common essence, and necessarily coincide with each other; and like the drops of rain, which fall separately into the river, mix themselves at once with the stream, and strengthen the general current.”—It is indeed a noble and admirable passage.—Porson maintained that women are by nature and of necessity inferior to men; and that whipping is beneficial to youth: on both which points, I to a veryconsiderable degree, differed with him—But we rather declared an opinion, than argued a question. Having drunk about a pint of wine, he refused any more; which determination I was pleased to see. Mentioned the letters to Travis, and the orgies of Bacchus. Quoted Foote (Smirk in the Minor) and spoke of him, as he well deserves, with rapture—Went in the evening to the billiard table, but did not play. I go for exercise, because I find that walking without a motive wearies, not recruits the spirits: but my rule is never to play for more than a shilling, and never to bet, as I hold gaming to be a detestable vice. I am obliged to play for something in compliance with the custom. Returned and read a few pages of Pennant’s tour in Scotland, which I began this day.
23rd.—Wrote a scene in “Old Clothesman”; walked to see Mr Godwin; conversed of my disease; he wished me to consult Carlisle—Returned; wrote a letter to Mrs. Jordan, in behalf of Mr Watts—Conversed with Mr Webb at Debrett’s, on the moral progress of mankind—Returned and saw Mr Colman, from whom I now first learnt that the prologue and epilogue to the Inquisitor, advertised without my knowledge, and to be played this very night, were written by the prompter, Mr Waldron—Accompanied Fanny two lessons, and went to billiards, played about a dozen games; felt internal pains that warned me; felt my pulse, and found it extremely quick; left off immediately, applied my thoughts to calm the arterial action, walked gently home; giddy, and considerably affected: took medicine, and went to bed. Soon after received accounts, that the Inquisitor was in part highly disapproved of, and ridiculed. Mr —— was of opinion that the story, notwithstanding, made a considerable impression upon the audience, which he considered as an impartial one; and that, on the whole, the feelings of the people were more for than against the play. In the course of the day, read more of Pennant; the facts he collects are useful, and some of them curious; but his manner is disjointed, confused, and therefore dull.
24th.—Worked about an hour at my opera, [Old Clothesman]—Read Pennant—Went to Colman, who seems fearful I should wish him to play the Inquisitor to his own disadvantage. Agreed to omit certain passages the next night: when he first read the play, his opinion was warmly in its favor, he then thought it perfectly safe. The ludicrous reception it met with from the audience has changed his opinion. I have found the same effect produced on others, on various occasions. My opinion is, that it was not the play which occasioned the laughter, but the manner of performing it, aided by the gratification which the flippancy of criticism finds in flattering its own discrimination and superiority. The play will be printed with the passages retained(except one, which is trifling) that the reader of it may judge how far it was in itself calculated to produce, or to deserve laughter. Our theatres at present, (and from its smallness this theatre in particular) are half filled with prostitutes and their paramours: they disturb the rest of the audience; and the author and common sense, are the sport of their caprice and profligacy. Met Perry for the first time since his release from Newgate; then Dr. Moore, who shewed me the list of the special jury, summoned to try Cuthell, or Johnson, for publishing Wakefield’s pamphlet.—Dined, Godwin and R—ce present. Godwin mentioned a Mr —— whom he and Mr Fawcett,[16]on a pedestrian ramble, went to visit at Ipswich: Godwin saying, that perhaps he would give them beds; if not, he would ask them to supper, and besides they should have the pleasure of seeing the beautiful Cicely, his daughter. They went, stayed some time, but received no invitation. When they came away, Mr Fawcett said he had three questions to ask Mr Godwin—How he liked his supper, how he liked his bed, and how he liked Miss Cicely (who had not appeared)? This occasioned me to remark, that the fault was probably not in the host, but in the hypocrisy of our manners; and that they ought to have freely said they wanted a supper, beds, and to see Miss Cicely. Spoke to Mr R—ce on the morality of eating animal food: he said we had no right to kill animals, and diminish the quantity of sensation. I answered that the quantity of sensation was greatly increased; for that the number of living animals was increased, perhaps ten, perhaps a hundred fold, by the care which man bestowed on them; and that as I saw no reason to suppose they meditated on, or had any fore-knowledge of death, the pain of dying to them is scarcely worth mentioning. Iought however to have added, that the habit of putting them to death, probably injures that class of men (butchers) whose office it is, and that they communicate the injury in part to society. This evil I think might be greatly remedied. Ritson joined our party in the evening.
25th.—Took my medicine as usual. Sent orders to Marshall, and others. Read the papers at Debrett’s: they were uniform in decrying the Inquisitor. One critic, whom I believe to be a man of taste and candor, accused it of fustian, and various other vile defects.—Went to Tattersall’s—the usual group there of horse-dealers, jockeys, and gentlemen: played three games at billiards, in Sharrard-Street—Saw Mr S——, who thought but indifferently of the Inquisitor; alleging, however, that he could not hear, &c.—Went to Colman at the theatre, the Inquisitor then performing to the satisfaction of the audience; he therefore agreed to play it the next night; but was anxious, if the house was thin, that it should be laid aside. We agreed to wait the event, and confer on Wednesday. Returned. Mr S——, came to me from the play-house, to inform me, that the piece had on this second performance, been well received; that the actors, who played vilely the first night, were greatly improved, and that his opinion of it was very much changed.
26th.—Went to Paternoster-Row; conferred with Robinson on publishing the Inquisitor. He promised to consider the proposals I had made, concerning the sale of the whole of my copy-rights. Returned and sent the Inquisitor to press. Went to King’s sale—bought the bible in Welsh, Polish, Danish and Swedish: likewise Novelle di Salernitano (scarce) and other books. Saw D’Israeli there, and Rogers, the poet, but did not notice the first. Went to Debrett’s: numbers there, Lords Townshend, Thanet, &c. Messrs. Francis, St. John, &c. The expedition of Buonaparte, and the news of the defeat of the Irish at Wexford, the chief topics. The Irish, it was supposed, must for the present be quelled. Met Perry, and conversed with him on the Inquisitor; blamed by him for writing too fast. Called at Opie’s in the evening; sat near two hours.—Much difference of sentiment between us, but little or no ill humour.
27th.—Read Pennant, and Bower’s Life of Pope Alexander the Sixth. The general system of morals at that time in Italy must have been wretchedly depraved; or this pope, and his active, but wicked son, Cæsar Borgia, might have been admirable characters. They seem but to have excelled their contemporaries in wickedness. Saw Parson —— at Debrett’s, who described the sandy roads of the north of Germany as invariably heavy and bad. A nobleman, whotravelled post, was eighteen days in going to Vienna; a journey of little more than 400 English miles.—Praised the wines of Hungary as the best in the world: those of the common inns in Germany as very bad. I read the three gazettes relative to Irish affairs, the defeat of the Insurgents, the capture of Wexford, the haughty answer of Lake to the terms proposed, and the evacuation of part of St. Domingo by the British troops. Returned to meet Colman, who broke his appointment. Wrote to him. Accompanied Fanny in a lesson after dinner. Mr Geiseveiler played chess, and drank tea with us.
28th.—Considered my opera, but did not write. Read Middleton’s dedication and preface to Life of Cicero; a man of uncommonly sound head and heart. Walked to Debrett’s; nothing stirring. Colman came to me. The third night of the play under-charges: promises, if he can, to perform it again with the new farce, that is, if the farce brings money. Played a lesson with Fanny after dinner. Visited Mr Geiseveiler, and met there Dr. ——, chaplain to the Austrian Embassy, and Mr ——, an emigrant, native of Brussels. The Doctor had the most literature, but the emigrant the most logic. The Doctor is a chemist, known to Mr Nicholson, who, the Doctor says, has written the best chemical book in our language, meaning his “First Elements.” They both reasoned on the expedition of Buonaparte, and both seemed inclined to think him gone to the East-Indies, either up the Red Sea, and from thence across the Little Desert, and by sea to the Carnatic, or down the Euphrates into the Persian Gulph, &c. Both were convinced, it could be no such trifling object as the capture of Malta, or any Mediterranean Island. The blow, they supposed, was meditated against the whole of the power of England in India. The Doctor thinks with me, that Kant, who is at present so much admired in Germany, is little better than a jargonist. Returned; made some good notes for the character of Morgan [in “The Old Clothesman”], and went to bed; but my imagination being awakened, I could not get to sleep till nearly one o’clock.
29th.—Worked at my opera.—At Debrett’s,—Conjectures were made on Buonaparte’s expedition, and the difficulties attending it. Weld of opinion that he would cross the Great Desert as the least difficult. The transportation of artillery, ammunition, cavalry, &c. over this tract, supposed by Mr Godfrey to be impracticable. The march of Alexander was of a very different kind. Walked with the two Parrys, who were stopped by O’Bryan and Maxwell concerning Fenwick’s publication. The Bow-Street people, on a late trial, were affirmed to have perjured themselves. Ford was supposed byO’Bryan to have been exempt from this guilt. It was allowed he had behaved kindly to Arthur, but not uprightly in court. For my own part, I know nothing of these matters.
30th.—Went, after breakfast, to Mr Stodart, but did not go in. Met Opie on my return. Thought myself recovering strength and activity apace. Sent into the city for proofs of the play, which were brought back. Corrected them. Wrote notes for a short preface. Received 17l.16s.10d.for my mare, which was knocked down on Wednesday for nineteen guineas at Aldridge’s. In the course of this day’s business, about two o’clock, leaning the pit of my stomach hastily over the edge of a desk, I was again seized with excruciating pains in my stomach; cold sweats and debility immediately followed, though the fit was, I believe, the least violent of the four, that I have now had. When it was somewhat assuaged, I was under the necessity of writing my short preface, my second note to W., and of correcting more proof sheets.
July1st.—Read Boswell’s Life of Johnson: the writer weak, vain, a sycophant, overflowing with worldly cunning: yet, owing to the industry with which he collected his materials, the book abounds in facts, and is amusing.
2nd.—Went to Mr S——, paid him the hundred pound bill on Mr Harris at six months, and received the balance: all accounts clear between him and me. Worked at my opera. Wrote scene 8 and 9, as far as “Do you hear how lottery tickets sell?” Satisfied at present with my alterations in the character of Morgan. Read the last proof of the Inquisitor. Read Boswell after dinner. Visited by Messrs. Watts and B——, and Mrs. Revely. Music, Mozart and Haydn, till ten, Fanny the principal performer. I retired to rest in some pain, which increased in bed: dreamed that my body was severed above the hips, and again joined in a surprising manner; astonished to think I was alive; afraid of being struck or run against, lest the parts should be dissevered. Very angry at the thoughtlessness of a boy that gave me a blow, and again surprised that it had no ill consequences. This dream appears to be the result of the pain, and the waking thoughts I have had on the probabilities of life or death.
3rd.—Wrote to the Rev. G. Smith, under frank given me by Lord Thanet, containing two bank notes, value six pounds, for my father’s widow. Worked at my opera a very short time. Informed by Mr Weld that Dr. Pitcairne had been cured of my complaint. Characterised him as our ablest physician since the death of Warren. Related that the Doctor and Sir George Baker were present in Warren’s last moments; that Sir George wished Warren to take anopiate, which he refused. Sir George desired him to give his reasons, and Warren, turning to the Doctor, said, “Tell Baker why I ought not to take an opiate to-day.” Immediately after which he clapped his hand to his breast and exclaimed “it is come again,” then presently expired. Read the Reviews and Monthly Magazine. In the evening called at Opie’s: they not returned from Southgate! Sat with Mr Nicholson till ten. One game at chess: conversed of my disease; of the present vicious enunciation of thought, and its evils to society: of a universal character which Nicholson is persuaded must soon be invented, and come into general use: he himself inclined to execute the task, which he does not consider as very difficult: of Bramhead at Devonshire-House, and Arkwright: of Tooke, and the misapplication of his powers, the sacrifice of wisdom and virtue to the pitiful triumph of the moment.
4th.—Sent in Shepperson and Reynold’s account, the balance 24l.4s.in my favor. Worked an hour or better at my opera. No news at Debrett’s, except Buonaparte said to have taken Malta.
5th.—Reading Boswell’s Life of Johnson at breakfast, was highly gratified by the following assertion of Johnson: “I find myself under the necessity of observing that this learned and judicious writer (Lord Kaimes), has not accurately distinguished the deficiencies and demands of the different conditions of human life; which, from a degree of savageness and independence, in which all laws are vain,passes, or may pass, by innumerable gradations, to a state of reciprocal benignityin which laws shall be no longer necessary.” Visited C——, profuse in his display of chirurgical knowledge, an acute and thinking mind, disliking contradiction, tenacious of system, and generally systematizing: thought the mind ought not to endeavour to regulate disease, its influence being great, but, as he affirmed, prejudicial. Instanced, that people having wounds, by a close attention to their feelings in the affected part, increased its sensibility to a noxious degree; and that the bones which, he said (I think erroneously,) have themselves no feeling, had, by the attention of patients, fixed upon them when diseased, become entirely sensitive. He spoke of these as facts within his own knowledge. From my own experience I believe them to be true, and think with him, that the attention so fixed upon parts diseased, may be prejudicial; but from experiments made upon myself, if the attention be fixed with a tranquil, pacifying, and cheerful temper of mind, I am persuaded they highly benefit the sufferer. This I urged; but his opinion seemed fixed. Advised me to consult Pitcairne, but did not lead me to hope, either from himself or others, any degree of medical knowledge that should be efficient. What is called nature, that is, the changes that are continually taking place,is trusted to as the chief operator. Received the third volume of Ireland’s Hogarth Illustrated. Clementi dined with us.
6th.—Read Hogarth, J. Ireland, vol. 3. Some valuable information, but wretchedly put together. Hogarth too irascible, and pushing his favourite points to extremes: a man of uncommon genius, and though highly admired by some, most unjustly treated by others. If it be true, which I doubt, that he did not excel in the higher parts of his art, i.e. in the beautiful and sublime, what he has written, and what he has done, sufficiently prove, it was not want of power, but want of practice. He felt his wrongs too indignantly, and, in resenting them, wanted liberality. Manners are undergoing a great change; and though just at present, an intolerant and acrimonious spirit prevails, yet there is much less ruggedness, asperity, and undisguised insult, than there was in his time. Saw B—— at Debrett’s; the health of Porson precarious. Called at Opie’s; he gone to see Hogarth’s March to Finchley.
7th.—Gillies, B—ll, S——, called before dinner. Worked nearly one hour at the opera; the scene of Frank and Morgan for and against speculation; but as I grew warm with the subject, felt a pain similar to preceding sensations, which warned me to desist.—Read Middleton’s Life of Cicero, and the pain went. Reports of the day, that Buonaparte and four or five sail of the line are taken: but disbelieved at Lloyd’s: and that the insurgents in Wicklow have surprised and totally cut off the Ancient Britons, a corps hated by the Irish for the mischief done them. Affairs of Boyd and Benfield deranged; both, it is said, from mean beginnings, had attained the utmost splendour of wealth. Boyd had been successively the chief money dealer in France at the commencement of the Revolution; then in England, and for the Emperor: something like the cashier of Europe; compared to Law for enterprise and capacity, and for proving the facility of an impossible scheme. Read Boswell’s Life of Johnson after dinner.
8th.—My spirits more cheerful, and my strength increasing. Read Boswell’s Life of Johnson; practised a little music. Purcel, a flowing, impassioned composer—his harmonies original, yet natural; and his melodies the best of his day. Is it true, as Boswell affirms, that Corelli came to England to visit him, and that Purcel being dead, Corelli immediately returned? Mr Foulkes, before dinner, gave me an account of Coigley, as well previous to his trial, as when sentence was passed, and at the place of execution: his sentiments generous, his mind undaunted, and his behaviour heroic. Mr Godwin’s conversation, as usual, was acute, and his ideas comprehensive.
9th.—Read Boswell. Wrote notes for the opera, with song,“Old Clothes to sell,” and other alterations and additions to the first exit of Morgan. Dined with Phillips (Monthly Magazine). Present F. the Cambridge man, Signor Damiani, Dr. Geddes, Pinkerton (Heron’s Letters), and S——; the three last, Scotchmen. S—— rattled, but had read and remembered. Pinkerton said little. The Doctor rather fond of dull stories; a man of information, irascible, and pertinacious. Maintained that a gentleman who, following the common path through an orchard, plucked apples, put them in his pocket, and left a shilling for them at the house of the owner, committed so heinous an offence, that he might justly have been shot as a robber. He scoffed at the argument and possibility of the apples being more necessary to the happiness of the man who took them, than of the legal owner. The argument is indeed hypothetical, and should be cautiously admitted. He treated the plea of benevolence, in the depredator’s behalf, with equal contempt; and affirmed, he did not argue as a lawyer, but from principles of indubitable justice. I was his chief opponent, and for a moment caught some of his heat and obstinacy. One of his stories was of a Romish priest, who sent up to town to Coghlan, a Catholic bookseller, for three hundred asparagus, which the man mistook for Asperges, an instrument used to sprinkle holy water with. The joke was the bookseller’s distress at not being able to procure more than forty or fifty in the time, and promising the rest. I forgot to mention Mr B——, a teacher, who informed us the wife of Petion remains still persuaded that her husband is not dead, and that he will again appear as soon as he can with safety. I related that Petion, when in England, had once dined with me, that he was so full of his own oratory, as to turn his back to the mantel-piece, as soon as he came in, and make a speech, which lasted till the dinner was on table; that as soon as eating gave him leave, he again harangued, and would with difficulty suffer himself to be interrupted, till he took his leave; and that, for my own part, I saw no marks of a man of great abilities, to which B—— assented. George Dyer came in after dinner. Except myself, I have reason to believe, that all the persons at table have been occasional writers for the Monthly Magazine. I walked slowly, and fed cautiously. The foolish question of whether the next century will begin the first of January, 1800, or 1801, was mentioned by F. with as much pleasure as his imagination seems capable of; for he had been present at two sumptuous dinners, and was likely to enjoy several others. He revelled in the idea of disputes which produced wagers of eating and drinking, said they were very proper, and the more uncertain and confused the better. He, as a mathematician, had been appealed to, and had decided in favour of the year 1800. Geddes remarked,that there were pamphlets which shewed the same question was agitated at the beginning of the last century. To be sure, said F., it always will be a question, and it is fit it should be. Geddes was still more incomprehensible; for if I understood him, the century begins with the year 99. I asked him to explain: he said he could only do it by a diagram; but added, that after Christ was born, the year 1 was not completed till he was one year old; to which I answered, this I believed nobody would dispute. As I found they either did not understand themselves, or at least were unintelligible to me, I dropped the question.
10th.—Left my card for C.—Mr B. called. Has adopted the cant which from Germany has spread to England, of affirming Mozart to be a greater man than Haydn. In Germany, his theatrical pieces have given Mozart his great popularity: he was undoubtedly a man of uncommon genius, but not a Haydn. His life indeed was too short. Stoddart left his translation of Don Carlos. He has executed his task reputably: the fourth and fifth acts of the play are greatly confused. The first interview of Philip II. and the Marquis of Posa, is a masterly scene. The whole is unequal; in some parts, feeble; in others, tedious: and yet a performance of which none but a man of genius could be capable. It reminds the reader of Hamlet and Othello, and of various passages in Shakespeare.
11th.—Read Boswell. Handel returned from the binders. Wrote Act I of the opera, but had some notes. Heard at Debrett’s that when Pitt went to the levee, after his illness and duel, the king shook him by the hand, a thing unprecedented, and violating etiquette.
12th.—Called on C—. He supposes electricity and the human will to be the same; gave high praise to Count Rumford’s experiments on heat. His imagination luxuriant, incautious, and daring. Dalrymple and the most scientific geographers, whom he met at the house of Sir Joseph Banks, are convinced of the practicability of conveying armies to India, by the way of Cairo, Suez, &c. This supposed scheme of the French still continues to be the common-place gossip of the day. Revised and copied part of Scene 18. Dr. Black said at Debrett’s, that Father le Roche was hanged twice, the rope breaking when he was half strangled, and that he cursed and swore violently at being so treated. Met G—— and O—— at Geiseveiller’s. G—— characterised Laudohn as a practical rather than theoretical general; and Lacy as the reverse. Said, Laudohn was a severe and despotic disciplinarian; instanced a Colonel, at the attack of Novi, whose regiment was engaged, and he behind. Laudohn coming up, asked him if that was his proper place, andcommanded him immediately to hasten and head his regiment. The Colonel obeyed. Laudohn, however, passing the same regiment some time after, again found the Colonel in the rear; and not waiting for any court-martial, or form of trial, shot him through the head. On another occasion, during the war with the Turks, he sent orders to General Clairfait, who commanded a corps about thirty miles distant, to attack the enemy. Clairfait, a man of skill and courage, considered the superior numbers of the enemy, and their strong position, and disobeyed: but immediately dispatched a letter stating his reasons. Laudohn read the letter in presence of the officer who brought it; then tore it, and threw it on the ground. The officer asked with some surprise, what answer he was to take back. Laudohn replied, “You have witnessed my answer.” The officer returned, related what had passed, and Clairfait immediately attacked the Turks, whom he routed. Laudohn when not in the field, nor employed in military duties, lived silent, reserved, and penuriously. At the beginning of the Turkish war, Lacy and others were employed; and the Emperor, according to G——, lost the greatest part of an army composed of 200,000 men. Laudohn was at length sent as commander in chief; and the moment he was thus employed, he became cheerful, pleasant, and generous; and in about a year, so frequently triumphed over the Turks, that he compelled them to make peace. During the public rejoicings for one of these victories, at Vienna, his name was emblazoned and repeated in a variety of ways; and the Emperor Joseph II. walking with Marshal Lacy to see the illuminations, said to the Marshal, “My dear Marshal, they don’t mention a word of you or me.” After the peace of Teschen, Frederick II., Joseph, and the Generals in Chief, dined together; and it was remarked, that whenever Frederick addressed Lacy, or the other Austrian Field Marshals, he never gave them that title, but said Monsieur Lacy, &c.; and when he addressed Laudohn, who had not been honoured with that rank, he always called him Field Marshal Laudohn. The Emperor understood the reproof; and a few weeks afterwards, created him a Field Marshal. These particulars were told by G——. I do not know whether they are common stories; but they agree with the character of Laudohn, and are probably true. When G—— went, I conversed with O—— on Shakspeare, of whom he had no great opinion. Corneille, Racine, Crebillon, and Voltaire, he supposed the most perfect writers of tragedy. He held verse, that is, rhyme, to be essential to the French theatre; and urged the hexameters of Greece and Rome, and English blank verse. He was unwilling to allow it was much more probable, when the tone of passion is raised, for men to speak in hexameters than in rhyme, or inalexandrines. I affirmed, they might still more easily speak in the blank verse of Shakspeare, which in reality is only an harmonious and measured prose. P. at Debrett’s, when he had done with Lords and M.P.’s spoke to me. Cornfactors are beginning to speculate on a bad harvest. After dinner, sat half an hour at Opie’s. G. Dyer there.
14th.—Saw in the newspaper another of Garat’s speeches at the court of Naples. Read one yesterday, which, for its pedantry and foppery, was highly ridiculous. Garat compares France to the ancient republics; and says she imitates them in sending out her philosophy and philosophers (himself one) to kings and states, and subjugated lands. There is something extremely offensive in the vapouring of this great nation, or, rather, of the persons who take upon them to govern and be the mouthpiece of the nation, which certainly has the character of grandeur, both of virtue and vice; but which yet has a strange propensity, in certain points of view, to render itself contemptible.
15th.—Sir William B——, with his young son, called: he was lately knighted. Speaks best on painting, the subject on which we chiefly conversed: said that a notion prevailed in Italy, that pictures having a brown tone, had most the hue of Titian, and that the picture-dealers of Italy smeared them over with some substance, which communicates this tone; and added, that my Castiglione landscape had been so smeared. Of this I doubt. Repeated a conversation, at which he was present, when Burke endeavoured to persuade Sir Joshua Reynolds to alter his picture of the dying Cardinal, by taking away the devil, which Burke said was an absurd and ridiculous incident, and a disgrace to the artist. Sir Joshua replied, that if Mr Burke thought proper, he could argue as wellper contra; and Burke asked if he supposed him so unprincipled as to speak from any thing but conviction? No, said Sir Joshua, but had you happened to take the other side, you could have spoken with equal force. Burke again urged him to obliterate this blemish, saying, Sir Joshua had heard his arguments (which B—— did not repeat), and desired to know if he could answer them. Sir Joshua replied, it was a thought he had conceived and executed to the satisfaction of himself and many others; and having placed the devil there, there he should remain. B—— praised my portrait, painted by Opie; but said the colouring was too foxy; allowed Opie great merit, especially in his picture of crowning Henry VI. at Paris; agreed with me that he had a bold and determined mind, and that he nearest approached the fine colouring of Rembrandt. Spoke in high terms of a picture by Fuseli for Comus, the subject (if I understood him) the entranceof the brothers to the release of the lady: and also of a landscape now painting by Sir F. Bourgeois. Played chess with Mr Du Val. Conceived three scenes for the opera, and sketched two of them: one was suggested by hearing a man and woman wrangle.
16th.—Mr P—— called, wishes me to read a manuscript tragedy written by himself. Wolcott lodges near him at Hampstead. P—— formerly attacked Steevens in his Heron’s Letters, therefore they are not acquainted. Steevens quarrelled with the Hampstead Stage several years ago for not having kept him a place, declared he would not ride in it again, has kept his word, and daily walks to town at seven in the morning, and returns to dinner at three in the afternoon; keeps no company, except that he has an annual miser’s dinner, that is, a very sumptuous one. P—— is now forty, reads much at the British Museum, which is four miles, all but a quarter, from his house, and is an hour, all but five minutes, regularly in walking that distance. Nothing at Debrett’s. Mr Godwin returned the first act of the opera with remarks, dictated evidently by the fear, that ill-success will attend me in future, as it has in some late attempts. The strongest minds cannot shake off the influence which the opinion of a multitude produces. Louisa Merrier dined with us. Read Boswell. Still the same loquacious parasite: to whom we are highly indebted for the facts he has preserved relative to Johnson, and I had almost said for the laughter he has excited at himself. He is indeed, a most solemn, pompous, and important coxcomb. I never was in his company, but have frequently seen him in the streets. His grave strut and elevated head, with a peculiar self-important set of his face, entirely corresponded with the character he unintentionally draws of himself in his writings.
17th.—Read Boswell. The French at Turin: their thirst of dominion insatiable. It is a duty to calculate what will be the moral consequences of their vicious actions. I am sorry I have not the time (most men have more or less the abilities) for such calculations. Met Mr Marshal, who did not much like the Inquisitor on the stage. Told me Robinson lamented, in a friendly manner, that I was not more careful of my fame. Perhaps I am mistaken, but though the Inquisitor was certainly no more than a trifling effort, I still do not think it a contemptible one. The audience, Marshal says, were but little attentive to the story. Surely this was the fault of the performers. But the piece is printed, and if I am partial, will detect my folly. The topic at Debrett’s was the two Sheares’s, who have been executed for treason in Dublin. They were brothers, both in the law, but had little practice, because of their open and passionate declarations against government: were in Paris during some epoch ofgreat conflict, mounted guard, wore the red cap, &c. as many or most other of the English did for their own safety, and are the sons of a wealthy banker, who I hear once was member for the city of Cork. In the course of the day I walked to Mr Godwin’s, King’s, Covent Garden, Debrett’s, and (after three games of chess in the evening), up Oxford Road and back to the billiard-table with Mr Geiseveiller, in all nine or ten miles, after which I played sixteen games at billiards. I imagine I confided too much in my strength, and took an excess of exercise, for I awoke between two and three in the morning, after getting to sleep with great difficulty, and found my sensations, or spirits, as they are called, considerably in a flutter, and my pulse very quick. I rose, threw up the window, and walked in the stream of air; a short time after which I again went to bed and slept, but had very vivid dreams; in one of them I was riding a race horse full speed over dangerous and steep places. This and other experiments seem to confirm the opinion of Dr. Parry, that there is an undue action of the arterial system. Sketched a short scene between Frank and Clara, and considered the arrangement of the second act of the opera.
18th.—Corrected and transcribed the first scene, and wrote the duet Act 2. Met Brown of Norwich, and promised him a letter of recommendation to Hamburg. Parry, jun. at Debrett’s, told him that the Emperor had issued a decree, by which persons having money in the bank of Vienna were required to advance 30 per cent. as a loan, for which the whole, bearing at present four per cent., should be advanced to five; but that persons refusing the further loan of 30 per cent. should receive no interest for the money already in the bank. Went to Hampstead, rode about a mile and a half. Pinkerton pleasant in manner, and apparently not ill-tempered. Professes to avoid metaphysical inquiry—his memory tolerably retentive of historical facts and biographical anecdotes.
19th.—Debrett read a philippic by Francis, from his parliamentary debates, against Thurlow, delivered I think in 1784, on the India Bill. It had greater strength and a better style than I supposed Francis capable of. Went for the first time to the fruit-shop next door but one to Debrett’s, and eat an ice. A notorious gambler, billiard player, and thief, called the Diamond, after a thousand escapes, has been detected in stealing stockings; is taken, and will probably be transported for life. Should I hereafter find time, some of his pranks, as part of the history of the human mind, might be worth recording. Sastres, an Italian, mentioned by Boswell in his Life of Johnson, was at the fruit shop. I asked him if he knew Boswell. The name excited his indignation; hespoke of Boswell as a proud, pompous, and selfish blockhead, who obtruded himself upon every one, and by his impudent anxiety lost what would otherwise have been willingly granted. As an instance, Johnson did not once mention him in his will, after their pretended intimate and sincere friendship; while S—— himself had that honour. This account did but confirm the internal evidence of Boswell’s own book. Notwithstanding Johnson’s professions, which were but efforts to be kind to him, I think it impossible he should either feel esteem or affection for such a man. I drank one cup of strong tea, and another half water; to this I attribute a second restless night; I went to sleep with difficulty after twelve, awoke before three, as on the 17th, threw up the window, walked in the air, and went to bed. By an effort I had a doze of a few minutes, but was soon perfectly awake, and went into the library, where I sat undressed, pointing and correcting the opera till about five. I then went to bed and slept till nine, but it was not sound and healthful sleep. Johnson complains in one of his letters, Vol. iii. of Boswell’s Life, of having had but one sound night’s rest during twenty years. Johnson drank tea to excess. To some persons I have no doubt it is a wholesome beverage, to others I suspect it is highly pernicious.
20th.—Called on Foulkes and Robinson, neither at home. Mr Armstrong informs me that several persons have been afflicted like myself with hemorrhage, told me that in Ruspini’s cases of cures performed by his styptic, was one of a mathematical instrument-maker, of Dean-street, who really had, as Ruspini asserts, a hemorrhage of the nose stopped by the styptic, but who died ten days afterwards in an apoplectic fit. We both conjectured such discharges of blood were frequently beneficial. Read the papers at Debrett’s as usual, the same sanguinary measures and modes of revenge mutually practised in Ireland. Played chess and billiards with Geiseveiller: drank no tea, yet had another restless night little better than the last.
21st.—I daily but slowly proceed with my opera. Saw Banks of K. at Debrett’s, and M. the ——’s, member in the last parliament, who very characteristically told me, (somebody having sent him the translation of Schiller’s Don Carlos) that he accepted every thing which was given him. I looked, and he endeavoured to correct himself, by adding, if it did not exceed the value of an octavo volume. A great gossip with little understanding, and I am almost surprised that a look should excite in him a temporary feeling of his habitual selfishness. Played chess and billiards with Geiseveiller. The marker, a garrulous old Irishman; affirmed that Irish wafers were better than English: the reason he gave was, that after a letterwas sealed, you might open it, with an Irish wafer, but not with an English. He pretended to talk philosophy, said there was but one colour, and that the way to prove it was to produce total darkness, and then a brown dog would be white. The sun, he said, regulated the tides, and it is the moon, and not the sun, that is the cause of light. His own absurd manner of explaining his blunders is highly ludicrous.
22nd.—Wrote the chief part of scene 7, act ii. Called on Sir F. B—— to see a landscape he is painting. It is one of his best, the tone is admirable, the composition and execution spirited. After pointing out what I supposed to be its merits, I added, that the head of the cow in the fore-ground was in my opinion too large. The wide open mouth of a dog barking was overcharged: his clouds likewise, I said, were not sufficiently floating, too much in mass, and not tinted as clouds on such a day always are. We conversed of B—— who had made a favourable report to him of the reception I gave him, and of my pictures.
On the subject of standing in the royal presence, Sir F. said that Mr Kemble seemed to doubt that this was so severely exacted: for when he and Mrs Siddons were commanded to read a play to the Royal Family, and a splendid circle was assembled to hear them, the Lord Chamberlain came and informed them that they had permission to be seated. But this is a confirmation of the etiquette, and the exception may be accounted for in a variety of ways. He that does not fear to be invidious may begin. Sir F. told me, that in the new edition of Pilkington’s Dictionary of Painters, there is a life of Sir Joshua Reynolds, which some attribute to Dr. Wolcott, others, to Opie. Returned, read the life of Johnson. Isaac Read there mentioned as a man superior to all others, in his knowledge of English literature. I have heard Ritson say much the same; if so, it does not make him vain at least. His name, as a commentator on Shakspeare, is added to those of Johnson, Steevens, and Malone; yet I remember one day seeing him walk with seemingly great humility at the tail of the two latter; they attentive to each other, or perhaps, each to himself, and Read wholly overlooked. Boswell likewise prates (for I think the term appropriate) of Dr. Towers, who though a whig, is in his class of good writers. Let the works of Towers testify. As a man, when he is in a society where speeches are to be made, he is pragmatical, verbose, and overflowing with a vapid kind of rage. He too was the tail-piece and butt of the late Dr. Kippis, who, when called a man of moderate talents, is not injured.
23rd.—Read P——’s tragedy. Contains some poetry and passion, presents a picture of the manners of the distant age, in which the scene is laid, superior to any thing I remember to have read: butis occasionally verbose. Has not enough of soul, and is deficient in plot. Is much better, however, than many things which pass current; wrote the Mariners’ Glee, and the short scene 8, song excepted. Nothing at Debrett’s except Irish affairs, and contradiction of the reports which for some days have been floating, of the capture of Buonaparte, &c. Ate little meat at dinner, took half a pint of milk and bread between six and seven o’clock, which served for tea and supper, and slept soundly. Mr Birch came, and restored the chilled varnish of the pictures, by damping, then gently rubbing them dry with a cloth, and afterward with flannel.
24th.—Sketched scene 9 of opera. Attended picture-sale in the Haymarket: W. the auctioneer, late a bankrupt, paying eighteen-pence in the pound. The best pictures, all or most of them, the property of W——, a picture-dealer, notorious for practising the worst tricks of that tricking trade. He bought his own pictures at high prices, the auctioneer running them up as if he had a room full of bidders, when he had not one: which artifice, I imagine, was for the purpose of asserting to his customers, that each picture fetched such and such a sum, even at an auction. A man ought not to throw away his property, and a picture not fetching its worth, may be honestly bought in; but I do not imagine there was a hope of selling good pictures at this season of the year. No news at Debrett’s. Observed the same regimen at dinner and tea, with the same success.
25th.—Went with Geiseveiller to see the picture of the siege of Valenciennes, by Loutherbourg. He went to the scene of action accompanied by Gillray, a Scotchman, famous among the lovers of caricature; a man of talents, however, and uncommonly apt at sketching a hasty likeness. One of the merits of the picture is the portraits it contains, English and Austrian. The Duke of York is the principal figure as the supposed conqueror; and the Austrian General, who actually directed the siege, is placed in a group, where, far from attracting attention, he is but just seen. The picture has great merit,—the difference of costume, English and Austrian, Hulan, &c. is picturesque. The horse drawing a cart in the fore-ground has that faulty affected energy of the French school, which too often disgraces the works of Loutherbourg. Another picture by the same artist, as a companion to this, is the Victory of Lord Howe on the 1st of June: both were painted at the expense of Mechel, printseller at Basle, and of V. and R. Green, purposely for prints to be engraved from them. For the pictures they paid 500l.each, besides the expenses of Gillray’s journeys to Valenciennes, Portsmouth, &c. Saw Mr E—— at Debrett’s, who told me he had it from one of the treasury people, that the present King of Prussia,intending to celebrate his accession by a festival at Berlin, caused preparations to be made, and scaffolding to be raised, on which was a throne with an ascent of steps. This was noticed by the citizens, who gave the K. to understand, the steps were too numerous, and the throne too elevated. They afterwards thought further of the matter, and announced their opinion, that such a festival was unnecessary, on which the hint was taken, the preparations were discontinued, and the money set apart for that purpose, was distributed among the poor. It was observed by ——, the Quidnunc apothecary, that the Government of Spain exhibited tokens of dissolution, he referring to the loan and voluntary contributions at present petitioned for there. I remarked if this argument were true, there was but an ill augury for Austria, with its forced loan of the bank of Vienna. Lord Thanet came in, and was questioned concerning a prosecution which, it is said, government have instituted against him and others, for an attempt to rescue O’Connor in the Court at Maidstone. He answered he heard this prosecution was begun, but had yet received no official notice of it. The coachman of Judge Buller, he said, was knocked down in Court, and ready to swear he, the Earl, was the assailant, though he sat with the counsel, and was never out of the eye of the Judge. The company affirmed Buller’s faculties are decayed, (he has had a paralytic stroke.) As a proof, he tells different stories at different times concerning this riot. Another adduced by Thanet is, that, in summing up the evidence, instead of saying the second prisoner, to whom he was referring, he repeatedly said the second witness, till Garrow at length got up in a pet, and called, “You mean the second prisoner, my Lord.” M—— and Lady W——, with her boy, were at Debrett’s, the only persons when I first went. She talking her usual masculine rhodomontade concerning Fullarton’s abuse of the Queen, in his speech on the regency business, which M—— searched for in Debrett’s Parliamentary Register, but she could not point out the passage, or at least find the language which she had imputed to him. M——, anxious I should know he was so familiar with a lady of rank, three times repeated her title. I kept my eye on the paper I was reading. Was this malice, or a proper treatment of petty vanity? His being once in Parliament gave him an introduction to various persons whose rank he affects to despise, but whose notice he most spaniel-like courts. A part of his gossip is, always carefully to tell what lord informed him of this, and what baronet or lady made such and such a remark. He appears to live with true Scotch economy, except that he is a great feeder and drinker. He hunts for invitations to dinner. Drank tea with Geiseveiller. G——, F——, and Gessner;F—— a man of very confined intellect; being a Bavarian, he is so prejudiced as to imagine Bavaria superior to other countries in or out of Germany. Three other persons called after tea, two of them English continental traders: the third, a German from Frankfort, who has executed contracts for government, and is come to England to solicit payment, which, after three years petitioning and dunning, he is still unable to obtain. So G—— tells me, who has it, I suppose, from himself.
26th.—Read Boswell. Worked at the opera. Bought books at King’s. Went to Debrett’s. The news there, that Buonaparte and his whole fleet were taken: it was communicated by Lord H—— to the horse volunteers that were reviewing in Hyde Park; they immediately gave three huzzas, and it ran from mouth to mouth through the crowd. It was false. Such scenes are tragically ridiculous. An officer of note had arrived from Lord St. Vincent; conjecture immediately knew his business: Lords were the first to believe what conjecture affirmed, and men shouted and rejoiced at the imaginary destruction of their fellow beings. Buonaparte has thus been captured at least a dozen times. On one of these occasions Lord L——, as I hear, communicating the news to one of the B——’s, began his letter with three hurrahs.
27th.—Concluded corrections and additions to the second act of the opera. Read the papers at Debrett’s. The same sanguinary measures still pursued in Ireland. The prevailing party there seem to contemplate the temporary success of Robespierre, but not his catastrophe. Bought more books at King’s. Went with Geiseveiller to see a pretended picture by Correggio, and another by Paul Potter. The latter, I believe, is a true picture; the sky and trees excellent; the composition detestable: a view of some public walk in Holland, with cows and strait-lined railing, like St. James’s Park before the alterations. Of Correggio having perhaps never seen a picture, I cannot pretend to judge; but this sketch, for it is no more, produces too feeble an effect to be his, if we may decide from internal evidence. The owner modestly asks nine hundred guineas for it, or ninety-five paid down, and the same sum annually for nine years on good security. The wild expectations that men form to themselves are pitiably ridiculous.
28th.—Reconsidered the two first acts of the opera before proceeding with the third. Nothing at Debrett’s. Read the first act of “——” carefully, making pencil marks. Walked to Hampstead; dined with Pinkerton; and after some pleasant literary conversation, relating to the venerable Bede, &c., made my remarks to him on his tragedy. He received them with great candour, but wasmuch more desirous that I should correct than that he should. Requested me to take the tragedy back, and go through the four succeeding acts with the same freedom of criticism used in the first. I have promised to perform the task within three weeks. My sleep remarkably sound after my exercise. P—— told me that when he was at Edinburgh during the American war, the Governor of the Castle received despatches. Lady ——, his friend, in the French sense of the word, was with him, and he was half drunk. Unfit for the task himself, he gave her the despatches to read. The lady has a warm imagination, and is delighted by a grand display; something that she read inflamed her fancy, and she exclaimed, “Governor, here is great news; you must order the castle guns to be fired directly.” The Governor took her word for it, and gave orders accordingly: but the great news, like the capture of Buonaparte in Hyde Park on Thursday, was wholly ideal. The guns were fired, the city was alarmed, crowds came running to know the reason, and the maudlin governor was disgraced and laughed at.
29th.—Monsieur Julien, the assistant of Colnaghi, the print-seller, came with Geiseveiller to see my pictures. He formerly was an auctioneer in Paris; where he sold some famous collections. He praised quite enough; but the French and Italians think that is what politeness requires. Wrote additional verses to songs in the first act of the opera. Clementi and Geiseveiller to dinner. Conversed on health: I maintaining that exercise and moderate feeding were absolutely necessary for people of and after middle age.
30th.—Third act still under consideration. Nothing at Debrett’s, but the respite of Bond in Dublin. The papers state Farmer’s library to have sold for ——, and his pictures for 500l.—King, the auctioneer, informs me the first sum is accurate, but the pictures brought only 50l.I saw them. They were select rubbish: unauthenticated portraits by unknown painters. The sale of Farmer’s library astonished every body. His rule was not to exceed three shillings for any book; except once, when he paid three and six-pence for a pamphlet, which brought fifteen guineas in the sale. This anecdote I understood to be on the authority of Dr. Gosset, who is the most constant attendant at book sales of any man in England, booksellers not excepted.—Farmer collected all old pamphlets and black letter books, whenever he could pick them up cheap, and these were resold at enormous prices, not for the value of the information they conveyed, but their scarcity. I viewed them as they lay in the auction-room, and books and pictures seemed to be the very refuse of the stalls.
31st.—Finished Boswell’s Life of Johnson: the author still continuinga pompous egotist, servile, selfish, and cunning; as is evident from the documents and pictures he gives of himself; and defending and condemning, not according to any principles which his own experience and observation had taught, but in conformity to those opinions, whatever they might be, right or wrong, which might most probably ingratiate him with the powerful. As a piece of biography, it is a vile performance; but as a collection of materials, it is a mine. Called on B——. The head of Kemble painted by him for Desenfans is a fine likeness, and a good picture. Saw a pair of his landscapes, but indifferent performances. At one time he copied the old masters. One of these copies after Berghem, but in the style of Wouvermans, is a good imitation, penciled with great labour and exactness, but not with the freedom of an original. The subject, a man on a white Galloway, bird-catching; but the copy was not finished, nor the nets inserted.—Wilson, he says, was indolent, and, in his latter time, used to make several attempts at each touch, before his hand reached the precise place. In this manner a picture would remain several days on the easel, with but little apparent progress. If B—— be accurate, the colours on Wilson’s palette did not exceed four, and his common menstruum was linseed oil, instead of other oils eight or ten times as dear. He had much comic humour, would turn from his easel to the window, make whimsical remarks on the passengers, pause to recollect himself, and begin painting again. He was addicted to liquor, by which his nose became enlarged, and so irritable, that the handkerchief was frequently applied to it, and kept in his bosom for that purpose. Glad of every opportunity to escape from labour to his favourite indulgence, he would say to any acquaintance who happened to call, “Come, let us go and take a drop of something. I have painted enough for one day.” Farrington and Hodges were his pupils, and many of the pictures that pass for Wilson’s were painted by them, but retouched by himself. Thus the same picture became multiplied. He would even buy copies made from his pictures, work upon them and sell them as his own. To a certain degree they were such, but the practice was dishonest; for an unskilful eye could not detect the inferior parts. Arts like these are the ruin of honest and well-earned fame. Wilson, however, was a man of uncommon genius, of which he has left sufficient and undoubted proofs. He and Sir Joshua had conceived some ill-founded prejudices against each other. Under their influence, Sir Joshua once said, at the Academy, Gainsborough was the best English landscape-painter. Wilson, happening to be unperceived at his elbow, replied, “You mean the best English portrait-painter.” If it was not Opie, I forget who gave me this anecdote.
August1st.—Proceed with Middleton’s Life of Cicero. It is full of information. Wrote a song to-day, “Dan Cupid, &c.” and a glee yesterday, of “Bitter pangs,” &c. for the opera. At Debrett’s, Mr Bouverie shewed me the Cambridge paper. Flower, the editor, is a zealot of a bold but honest character. By his paper, he must necessarily have made himself extremely obnoxious to persons in power. He unsparingly assails all whose creed or moral conduct he thinks reproachable. Godwin has been several times attacked in his paper, and probably myself. A letter, written from Ireland by a Colonel in the Guards, asserts, that the two O’Connors, Bond, and another, whose name I have forgotten, have consented to inform against the insurgents, and transport themselves from Ireland, on condition that the life of Bond be spared. Lord Thanet said, he had betted fifty guineas to half a crown, that this was a false assertion. I think myself certain he will win. A. O’Connor is a noble-minded man, or I am wretchedly mistaken, and it is said his brother Roger is even his superior. Met Mr G——, whom I informed that the comedy of “He’s Much to Blame” was written by me. He testified great satisfaction at the shame its success brought on my persecutors, and that the King, not knowing the author, had commanded it twice. Mentioned its great popularity among the country theatres; invited me to Turnham-Green, and I promised to dine there next Sunday se’nnight.
2nd.—Read Middleton. Wrote a song “The Fiat of Fate,” Act 3. Went to Debrett’s, read a high-flown complimentary letter, from some city volunteers, to Colonel ——, a bankrupt, persuading him to continue in their command, and describing him as an unfortunate man, but of exemplary worth. A—— remarked that the aristocrats of the corps, had thus stirred in his behalf, because he had gone through thick and thin to serve persons in power. Walked down Constitution-Hill, and wrote Clara’s two songs of the third act in the Park. Just as I finished, with my pencil in my hand, I saw I was observed by General F——. We know each other personally, but are not acquainted. Acquaintance indeed among persons of rank, I have very few. My feelings will not suffer me to be forward; and such persons are known only to the obtruding, or those who minister to their immediate pleasures and vices. Men of literature lay claim to honors, to which men of rank have but seldom any good pretensions; and both seem jealous of their individual prerogatives.
3rd.—Wrote Duet, Act 3. Worked at the opera. Asked Weld at Debrett’s if he knew Boswell. He had met him at coffee-houses, etc. where B—— used to drink hard and sit late. It was his custom during the sessions, to dine daily with the Judges, invitedor not. He obtruded himself every where. Lowe (mentioned by him in his life of Johnson) once gave me a humourous picture of him. Lowe had requested Johnson to write him a letter, which Johnson did, and Boswell came in, while it was writing. His attention was immediately fixed, Lowe took the letter, retired, and was followed by Boswell. “Nothing,” said Lowe, “could surprise me more. Till that moment he had so entirely overlooked me, that I did not imagine he knew there was such a creature in existence; and he now accosted me with the most overstrained and insinuating compliments possible.” “How do you do, Mr Lowe? I hope you are very well, Mr Lowe. Pardon my freedom, Mr Lowe, but I think I saw my dear friend, Dr. Johnson, writing a letter for you”—“Yes, Sir”—“I hope you will not think me rude, but if it would not be too great a favor, you would infinitely oblige me, if you would just let me have a sight of it. Every thing from that hand, you know, is so inestimable.”—“Sir, it is on my own private affairs, but”—“I would not pry into a person’s affairs, my dear Mr Lowe; by any means. I am sure you would not accuse me of such a thing, only if it were no particular secret”—“Sir, you are welcome to read the letter.”—“I thank you, my dear Mr Lowe, you are very obliging, I take it exceedingly kind.” (having read) “It is nothing, I believe, Mr Lowe, that you would be ashamed of”—“Certainly not”—“Why then, my dear Sir, if you would do me another favour, you would make the obligation eternal. If you would but step to Peele’s coffee-house with me, and just suffer me to take a copy of it, I would do any thing in my power to oblige you.”—“I was overcome,” said Lowe, “by this sudden familiarity and condescension, accompanied with bows and grimaces. I had no power to refuse; we went to the coffee-house, my letter was presently transcribed, and as soon as he had put his document in his pocket, Mr Boswell walked away, as erect and as proud as he was half an hour before, and I ever afterward was unnoticed. Nay, I am not certain,” added he, sarcastically, “whether the Scotchman did not leave me, poor as he knew I was, to pay for my own dish of coffee.”
4th.—Continued the opera through scene 9, Act 3. Colonel Barry at Debrett’s, returned from Ireland: rejoiced to see each other. Spoke of Ireland as subdued by the divisions which government had found the means to create, and chiefly by the aid of the native yeomanry. Read reviews and magazines.
5th.—Corrected scene 10. Wrote song for Florid. Called on N——, who had been sent for by the Duchess of D——; she broke her appointment, made another, and broke that, with a note apologising, and desiring he would come again, and bring a copy of hisvery excellent journal. This a good deal resembles scenes I had with her in 1783, except that I made application toher(for recommendatory letters to our ambassador at Paris) which Mr N—— did not. Pinkerton, Godwin, Stoddart, and J Parry, to dinner. Stoddart, as usual, acute, but pertinacious and verbose. Godwin clear, and concise.
6th.—Proceeded with the opera. Walked an hour. Returned and finished it. Nothing at Debrett’s. Have read Monthly Magazine and Review for some days. Individually, the numbers of such works appear dull: collectively, they afterwards become highly amusing.
7th.—Read and sent the opera to Mr Harris, with a letter. Walked to Godwin. He proceeds with his novel. Gave a favourable account of Fenwick’s pamphlet on Coigley.
8th.—Began to consider my new comedy, which I am very desirous of enriching with numerous incidents.
9th.—Debrett blames Robinson for publishing another translation of the voyage of Perouse; that already published by Johnson, being complete, the size octavo. R.’s edition is to be quarto, the plates in a grander style. Debrett’s phrase was, he would burn his fingers. Meditated on the comedy. Conceived two incidents arising from the poverty of my characters, of a pawnbroker’s shop, and an antique ring. Dined with Geiseveiller, and G——. His German friends came after dinner. F—— displayed some knowledge in Grammar; but was laughed at by me and G——, for being a disciple of Kant.
10th.—Rose at seven, in good spirits, and apparently excellent health; persuaded, as I had been for some time, that my disease was gone, and my constitution improved. While eating my breakfast, soon after eight, was seized with a fifth fit of hemorrhoidal colic. The pain as on former occasions excruciating, yet resisted with so much determination by me, that I am persuaded its violence was considerably abated. I continued very ill through the day. In the night my dreams were extremely vivid, often disagreeable, but not always. I read and composed poetry, that never had any other existence; engaged in metaphysical disputes; and busied myself with the plot of a comic opera. I conceived a nobleman and his servant, Spaniards, to have arrived at a castle with immense walls and turrets; and that the first thing the nobleman said, must be to tell his servant, that they were now come to the place of action, and must make their way into that castle. The various obstacles and incidents which this would afford, delighted me, while dreaming. A few years ago, having a slight fever, and lying awake in the night, I found I could speak extempore verses on any given subject, (for I proposed two or three to myself) many of them approaching excellence, and the othersfull of high sounding words, and such as would be thought excellent by some. Fear of increasing the fever, made me rather endeavour to calm and appease my mind, than either to proceed, or try to remember those I had made, which might amount to above thirty lines in number, as I believe. Have found nearly the same facility occasionally, when actually writing poetry, after having considered my subject a certain time, and made a certain number of verses, or rather, after rouzing the faculties. In my sleep I have read many a page of poetry, that never was written. Others have told me they have done the same. Mr N—— says he has several times gone to bed with his mind wearied by considering a question of science which he could not resolve, has slept or dozed, and the resolution has intruded so forcibly upon his thoughts, that it has awaked him.
11th.—Sent for Dr. Pitcairne. After he was gone, the pain rather increased till I rose, half an hour after, when I experienced some relief. Was induced to examine the nature of pain, and found that it is not, and from the nature of the human frame, cannot be, incessant. Could it be so, it must soon destroy the patient. Sensations are impelled upon us. Trifles, the tickling of a hair, the trains of ideas which pain itself begets, divert the attention. These intervals appear to be short in proportion to the intensity of the pain. Played a game at chess, with Geiseveiller: at the beginning with great brilliancy; at the end, with great stupidity. Received a well written letter from Mrs. B——, and the opera from Harris.
12th.—Harris firmly of opinion the opera will be a good afterpiece, but a dangerous first-piece, I obliged to yield, the slave of my circumstances. He agreed to give me two hundred and fifty pounds for the piece, and the copy-right; and, should it run twenty nights, to make the sum three hundred. Urged me to proceed with my comedy, which I promised, if possible, to send at the close of November. Underwood, a young artist, called to see my pictures. He was full of admiration, but he is a youth. Godwin called to enquire after my health, and Mrs. Foulkes.
13th.—Pitcairne called, behaved very kindly, and refused his fee. I could not visit Mr G——, who had invited me. The Parrys, Colonel B——, Mrs. F——, and Geiseveiller called. Yesterday and to-day, amidst the pain, I reduced the opera, but not completely.
14th.—Mrs. F—— called: and Geiseveiller before and after seeing the Road to Ruin for the first time at the Haymarket. This perhaps is the only theatre in the three kingdoms, Drury-Lane and the Opera-House excepted, at which it has not been acted more probably fifty times than once. The custom of the theatres preventsits being performed in London, except at Covent-Garden, where it first appeared.
15th.—Wrote to Harris and Robinson. Went to Mrs. B——, who requested my advice and aid, concerning a novel. A lively woman, upwards of sixty; widow of Dr. B——. From a printer’s mark in the margin, there is reason to suspect her novel has been clandestinely printed. If not, it certainly was in preparation for the press. Completed the reduction of the opera; and proceeded, as the day before, with reading Middleton’s Cicero, and correcting P——’s tragedy.
16th.—Visited by Dr. Pitcairne, to whom I had sent. Received his fee, is to call on Saturday. Smith, the surgeon, Mrs. F——, Samuel S——, visitors. Read Wild Oats, (having this day received O’Keefe’s works) a farce, but one in which much invention and feeling are displayed. Wrote an air to Dan Cupid, in Old Clothesman.
17th.—Went to Debrett’s, after taking the warm sea-bath. Col. B—— and others praised the Cheltenham waters, as excellent for bilious affections. Walked home, not in the least fatigued.
18th.—Visited by Dr. Pitcairne. Corrected tragedy.
19th.—Walked into the Park, but overpowered with fatigue and heat, took rest in Whitehall chapel: was too giddy to pay much attention to the paintings of Rubens.
20th.—Pitcairne called, thinks I ought to eat meat, refused his fee. Hugh Trevor, and Road to Ruin, sent to Geiseveiller.
21st.—Mr Ramsey, who had acted as a clergyman and physician in the West Indies, returning, was one of the first promoters, by various pamphlets, of the enquiry into the slave-trade. An agent of the planters wrote against him, accusing him of want of humanity in his treatment of the sick slaves. He was advanced in years, and much agitated; the weather was hot, he made a journey, and wrote to contradict the calumny. This brought on an inward hemorrhage, of which he died. Mr Armstrong gave me the above account; adding, that there scarcely could be a more humane man than Mr Ramsey. In the present state of my disorder, I am equally afraid of eating and fasting. Debility threatens me on one hand with the loss of power to repel the disease: and not improbably another fit, every mouthful I swallow. Patience and cheerfulness, experience tells me, are my best aids. I am patient, but cannot sufficiently recollect myself, so as to assume that constant cheerfulness which pain so frequently disturbs. This should be a temper of mind inculcated from infancy.
22nd.—The perseverance with which I endeavour to notice, andremember my own sensations has occasioned Mr Armstrong to accuse me of being subject to violent and false alarms. He is mistaken. The consciousness I have of serenity, is too firm and permanent to be a deception; but I am persuaded my cure must depend on a still stricter attention to facts. Dr. Pitcairne came, prescribed, and again refused his fee. Mr Godwin called, and Captain Johnson, an intelligent Scotch seaman, trading to Bremen and Hamburg; says the Dutch are nearly as good sailors as the English: as a proof, they, like the English, will navigate a small trader with six hands, for which the French would require twelve, and the Spaniards twenty; yet the navigation and work, are best done on board the English and Dutch. Geiseveiller, Mrs. Shield, and T. and B. Mercier, called.
October3rd.—I now mean to recommence my diary, which has been interrupted by the disease so often before mentioned, on its coming to a crisis, which was all but mortal.
Went to Debrett’s. Met B—— and Parry. Saw Emery and Mrs. Mills in second and third acts of the Road to Ruin. Both have merit. Emery the most. Second illumination night for Nelson’s victory. Passed through the mean streets leading to the Seven Dials. The poor did not illuminate. I was in a coach, being too weak to walk.
4th.—Called on Carlisle. Visited P—— and bride; a woman of pleasing manners and intelligent countenance. On return met J. Bannister and Wathen. Dined at Kensington Gore with Mr and Mrs. B—— and J. Parry.
5th.—Mr Attwood came by appointment, and received from me the score of “When sharp is the frost, &c.” composed by me, but corrected by Mr Shield for the opera of the Old Clothesman. Sent back the manuscript by him to the theatre. Called on by J. Bannister.
6th.—Six pints of sweet wine given me by J. Bannister.
7th.—Music. Haydn. Fanny accompanied by Messrs. Watts and Mackenzie. Mr Henry present. Dined at Turnham Green by invitation. Complaint of the G—— family of the want of rational society. The villas of the place having become the country houses of wealthy but ignorant town tradesmen. Butchers, tailors, tallow-chandlers, &c. who make these their holiday and Sunday seats. Message to N—— from G——, inviting communication, as well as to dine, and further intercourse. Whimsical disputes of half-drunken passengers in the coach, on my return, concerning, and descriptive of Nelson’s victory. Each man, according to his own account, minutely acquainted with all the occurrences.
8th.—Called on N—— to deliver the message from G——. Apothecary at Debrett’s affirms there are letters in town of Buonaparte taken with his dispatches; particularly one to his wife, accusing the Directory of having purposely betrayed him into an irretrievable situation of danger. I learnt from Mr N——’s common-place book that it was on the 11th of March, 1796, that he, Arthur O’Connor, Dr. Parr, (Bellendenus) Godwin, Mackintosh, Opie, Powel (a young Oxonian brought by Parr), and Col. B——, dined with me. I consider the meeting of so many celebrated as well as extraordinary men, as an occurrence worthy of being remembered.