Diary of Anne Marsh Caldwell (1791-1874) for 1808
(In 1808 Anne was 17 years old)
Common Place Book
10th October, 1808, Monday
Spent a long day at Liverpool, called at Miss Wallace's who shake of the hand convinced me that she was not one of those characters who forget past intimacies at Dr Branbreths &c.
11th October, 1808, Tuesday
Dined at Mr Martins. Mr and Mrs Hodson junior, Mr J Hodson, Mrs Hodson senior. Went to a miscellaneous concert. I was delighted beyond expression. It far exceeded my expectations and I really did not know how to express my feelings. Mrs Billington Harrison and Bartholomew, Lindley on the violin, cellow. Holmes on the bassoon, Yaniewicz on the violin [Sweet Bird?].
12th October, 1808, Wednesday
A selection in the morning. I as much delighted as ever "in sweetest Harmony" delightful by Mrs B. Returned home to dinner.
A party of eight gentlemen. Dr Wills, a rough Mr Duckworth: Shepherd Walker hood and two Cagleys, two Bayleys. A very nervy day, too much people are deceived in layout out for admiration attention in that case they certainly have but not what I should think flattering!
13th October, 1808, Thursday
Creation in the morning. I dined at Mr Bayleys and Concert in the afternoon. Very pleasant day.
14th October, 1808, Friday
Messiah dined at Miss Wallace's. Though still very much delighted with the music I think there is too much together. I do not find myself for these two last days entirely absorbed as at first. I can easily conceive Mary [her sister Mary Caldwell 1789-1813] to feel much more gratification than myself but I felt more than Mary and Hannah I think.
15th October, 1808, Saturday
All the party except myself to Mr Yate's and Concert. It was with very little regret that I stayed at home. I had more music in my head than I could well hold.
16th October, 1808, Sunday
At Mr Shepherd's. Saw a great many coins, a few of which only were interesting. * viz Spectator [pray is dimple spelt with two p's?]. Philip of Macedon and Lysmachus two very fine heads. As an illuminated manuscript of Poggio Bracciolini.
18th October, 1808, Tuesday
To Mr Roscoes to tea and supper. A most delightful evening pour moi jetais parfaitement heureus dans une maison pleine de tous les productions de beaux arts et parlent avec un homme que je trouve bien agreeable sur le subject que j'aime le mieux, la poesie. Saw a fine head by Leonardo de Vince and several beautiful pictures but I do not yet understand painting enough to receive all the pleasure I otherwise should do.
20th October, 1808, Thursday
The Brandreths and Roscoes long argument against Wordsworth. Mr W Roscoe thinks him a finer poet than Southey or Scott. Conversation with Dr P. Brandreth, another display which misfired its aim.
21st October, 1808, Friday
Called at Allerton. N. Roscoe walked to Eton with us. Mrs Lawrence and the Dodsons &c. Mrs Lawrence very literary in her closet but too modest to bring any learning into conversation where she has the air of a very fine lady who knows nothing at all.
22nd October, 1808, Saturday
Went to Mrs Wallaces to stay a few days.
23rd 1808, Sunday
To Mr Yates Chapel. Mrs Martin, Mr N Yates drank tea with us.
24th October, 1808, Monday
Hodsons, Mr Littledale, Wallace, W Roscoe, J Fletcher, Miss Corris to supper, very pleasant evening. Saw a cable manufacture in the morning.
26th October, 1808, Wednesday
The Roscoes shewed us the exchange lent to a jewelers shop, thimbles and pieds, Mr Coniage
27th October, 1808, Thursday
Returned to Eton [home of their relative Peter Crompton]
28th October, 1808, Friday
Mr W Roscoe, Dr P Brandreth called. Party to Mr Pools.
29th October, 1808, Saturday
Yates and Croppers dined. Papa to Eton.
30th October, 1808, Sunday
W Roscoe dined with us.
31st October, 1808, Monday
Returned home, never was so sorry to leave a place in my life. Found Ed Crompton at Linley [Edward Crompton son of Peter Crompton].
2nd November 1808, Wednesday
Mr A Yates came.
3rd November 1808, Thursday
Newcastle Assembly. Enjoyed myself beyond expression, clapped my [wigs? Rings?] and enjoyed my liberty one [proof, providing?] was that every partner was agreeable.
4th November 1808, Friday
Mr A Yates went. Mr Butt and Blunt dined here.
Forwardness joined to any one defect makes it most intolerable truly! He who stands in the light should be spotless. Backwardness is [vers?] almost all, he who is in the shade must have then very glaring to be perceived. A.L.
5th November 1808, Saturday
JSC went to Edinburgh.
7th November 1808, Monday
H. Holland came.
9th November 1808, Wednesday
H. Holland went. During his stay conversation has certainly been more instructive than usual. Hannah Stamford, HSC, MC to Maer and Dorlaston.
Without the smile from partial beauty say what were man a world without a sun - Campbells Pleasures of Hope.
Transcription - ibid
There lies a lass of heaven directed mein,
Of cultured soul and sapient eye serene
Who hails thee man! the Pilgrim of a day
Spouse of the worm and brother of the clay
Frail as the leaf in Autumns yellow bower
Dust in the wind or dew upon the flower
A friendless child a slave without a sire
Whose mortal life and momentary fire
Lights to the grave his chance directed form
As ocean wrecks illuminate the storm
And when the guns tremendous flash is over
To night and silence sink for ever more
Ibid [Thomas Campbell]
Ah me the laurelled wreath that murder rears
Blood nursed and watered by the widows tears
Seems not so foul so tainted and so dread
As waves the night shade over the sceptic head!
Ibid [Thomas Campbell]
And beauty's tears are lovelier than her smiles
So listen they the reed of Thalaba
While his skilled fingers modulate
The low sweet soothing melancholy tones
Or if he strung the pearls of poetry
Singing with agitated face
And eloquent arms and sighs that reach the heart
A tale of love and woe
[The Vision by Moon-light]
Then if the brightening moon that lit his face
In darkness favoured hoes
Oh! Even with such a look as fallesery
The mother Ostrich fixes on her egg
Till that intense operation
Kindles its light of life
Even in such deep and breathless tenderness
Oneizer's soul is centered on the youth
So motionless with such an ardent gaze
Save when from her full eyes
Quickly she wipes away the gushing tears
That dime his image there.
She called him brother, was it sister's love
That made the silver rings
Round her smooth ankles and her loving arms
Shine daily brightened for a brother's eye
Here her long fingers stained
As when she trimmed the lamp
And through the veins and delicate skin
The light shone rosy! That the darkended lids
Gaze still a softer luster to her eye
By the tomb lay Thalaba
In the light of the setting sun
The sun the wind the rain
Had rusted his raven locks
His cheeks were fallen in
His face bone prominent
By the tomb he lay along
And his lean fingers played
Unwitting with the grass that grew beside
A night of storms, the wind
Swept through the moonless sky
And moaned among the pillared sepulchers
And in the hauses of its sweep
They heard the heavy rain
Beat on the monument above
On Thalaba the maid
Twined the dark luster of her angel eyes
Madoc hearing the songs of his own country recalling his misfortunes, other thoughts arose, as on the fate of all his gallant house, mournful he mused oppressive memory
His bosom over his fixed eye balls swam
The tears dim luster and the loud toned hosp
Rising on his ear in vain its silence -
Roused him from dreams of days that were no more
A Field of Battle the day after the Engagement
Anon the fatal field the sight the fire on my memory still, for all was done for horse and horseman side by side in death lay on the bloody plain, a host of men and not one living soul and not one sound, one human sound, only the ravens sing which rose before my coming and the neigh of wounded horses and ring over the plain
She chose her lover for his sparkling eyes
Expressions warm and love inspiring lies
Ah no a shepherd of a different stock
And far unlike him feeds his little flock
A jovial youth who thinks his Sunday task
Is all that God or man can fairly ask
The rest he gives to loves and labours light
To fields the morning and to feasts the night
A sports man keen he hunts through all the day
And skilled in whist he wastes the nights in play
And while such honors bloom about his head
Shall he sit sadly by the sick mans bed
And the dull wheel hums doleful through this day
The very honey of earthly joy
Does of all meats the soonest cloy
All this worlds noise appears to me
A dull ill acted comedy
15th November 1808,
The girls and my Aunt returned home.
16th November 1808, Wednesday
Mr, Mrs Jos and Mr Wedgwood and Miss Janny Byerly dined Linley Wood. Mr N returned at night.
17th November 1808, Thursday
Mrs Wood dined.
18th November 1808, Friday
The Wedgwoods and Miss B left us. Edward Crompton left us.
Transcription - Edward Young's Night Thoughts 
[Ivid?] natures sweet restorer balmy sleep
He like the world his ready visit pays
Where fortune smiles the wretched he forsakes
Swift on his downey pinion flies from vae
And rests on lids unsullied by a tear
Young's Night Thoughts
Guard well thy thoughts our thoughts are heard in heaven
Is heaven tremendous in its frowns I most sure
And in its favours formidable too
Its favours here are trials not rewards
A call to duty not discharge from care
And should alarm us full as mush as war.
Judgment consists in having nice lines as the exact line between distance and familiarity &c for there is an exact line in everything and it is those people who hit these lines that pass through the world to the surprise of everybody with the approbation of everybody
Talent is steam, judgment is the power that regulates the steam and makes is useful
But he who really deserves the name of a poet must add to a greater promptness to think and feel and a greater power in expressing such thoughts and feelings, livelier sensibilities and greater enthusiasm and tenderness, another faculty we scarcely know how to name it that kind of fancy whim to wit which glancing from heaven to earth from earth to heaven pervading as it were the whole world of nature and of art snatches from each its beauteous images combines, adapts arranges them by a magic force of its own peoples with it its new creation and at length pours forth in one striking brilliant and harmonious whole. Ann Nevin
Mr Wordsworth doubtless possesses a reflective mind and a feeling heart but nature seems to have bestowed on him little of the fancy of a poet and a foolish theory deters him from displaying that little. In addition to this he appears to us to starve his mind in solitude. Hence the undue importance he attaches to trivial incidents and the unfortunate habit he has contracted of attaching exquisite emotions to objects that excite none in any other human breast
He consiglio d'uosn sauo amoe ricive
French transcription, whole page and two blank pages
Description of Marie Antoinette
By Edmund Bourke 1790
It is now sixteen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness at Versailles and surely never lighted on this orb which she scarcely touched a more delightful vision. I saw here just above the horizon decorating and cheering the elevated spheres she just began to move in, glittering like the morning star full of life and splendour joy. Oh! What a revolution and what a heart must I have to contain plate without emotion that elevation and full. Little did I dream that when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic distant respectful love she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in her bosom, little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have lept from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult but the age of chivalry is past. That of sophistors, recconomists and calculators has succeeded and the glory of Europe is languished for ever. Never, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart which kept alive even in servitude itself the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace of freedom. The cheap defence of nations, the [reverse?] of manly sentiment and heroic sentiment is gone! It is gone that sensibility of principle that chastity of honour which [left?] a stain like a wound which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity, which enobled whatever it touched and under which vice itself loses half its evil by losing half it grossness.
Is that a true sentiment
It is better to write than to read one brings out your own ideas and the other puts other people's in to your head. "The hunched headed worm that never dies"- Vanity
Les eunemens passent mais quand la volonte demeurs finne et invariable elle finit tourjours par en trouver unfavourable
Nat de M Cottin
Quand on n'a repondre qu'a soi le sentiment qui nous domine trouve mille moyens de nous engager aux actions qu'il desire, de nous pars n a der meme qu'elles n'ont rien de coupable; pour avoir un pin combattu on croit avoir beaucoup fait parce que a mesure bien plus le monte du combat sur ses douleurs que sure su duree mais quand il fait montrez a des regards etrangers et nos foibles efforts qui ne servant point juges sur la peine qu is nousant conte et notre entrainement si rapide qui ne serer print escuse por la fine qui le detormina quand enfin nous sommes sivis qu'on ne regardera que le resultat de notre conduite et nor les mourvements qui l'ont ordonmea alous . . .
French transcription continues
9th December 1808, Saturday
Burslem. Sent to fetch three little boys from Astbury, C Tollit, J Atkinson, C Wedgwood.
11 December 1808, Sunday
A charming day at Etruria where MC, MEC, LC and myself [watched?] from
12 December 1808, Monday
The little boys went.
17th December 1808, Saturday
Rode to Newcastle with JC. MC. MEC, it snowed on, ne croisoit pas l'emotion que je sentail en recognu la neige il me reppelait la neige de l'Aspenible et je retraicois tous les emotions de cette soiree. Qu'on doit reglar bien ses sentiments quand elles sont si ineffacables.
18th December 1808, Sunday
My Uncle came.
19th December 1808, Monday
Tollets Jas, Wedgwoods and Miss Heming dined and staid all night. Gay Hoo.
20th December 1808, Tuesday
I went to Maer with Mrs Jos, called at Etruria on my way thither.
25th December 1808, Sunday
Miss S Wedgwood came to Maer.
27th December 1808, Tuesday
Miss S Wedgwood returned home. I never had so much of her company before and never was so sensible of its value.
31st December 1808, Saturday
Returned home from a charming visit to a place where I have been leader of the revels to the sweetest children in the world. At first I was not quite at lose but in a short time I was able to enjoy the society of Mr and Mrs [W?] in full perfection for I became quite domesticated.
When was my friend I'd have past you in past
But roasted like coffee your quite to my taste
The blink of a bad eye they tell me to flee
Tis the glance of a blithe one that's danger to me
Anne Caldwell 'Eyes'
How much we're deceived when we judge you
To look at his face one should think the man wise
Recollect my fair lady so bright blithe and gay
That a flirt and a butterfly live but a day.
Play the part of a woman as well as you can
Still your manner and brains are those of a man
Without beauty or wit or fortune to tell
As a dormiere refrost once the girl comes out a belle.
Raise your eyes from the ground my fair dame [I desire]
You may safely look round they'll set no one on fire.
What pity those manners that grace and those parts
Are used but as baits to catch silly girls hearts.
That your hair is your own you've no wig in it stead
Need you always be proving by shaking your head
Your various charms t'is generous to display
The certain means to take their power away.
Your eyes they dazzle and don't charm my fair
Like summer rains they do not shine but glare
Linley Wood Jane 7 1809.
When girls first enter into life it is very natural that they should feel a preference for some one and it is a foolish and romantick notion that they are in love.
Le amoins je crois qu'on doit redouter un tel sentiment simple preference est bien dangerous sourtout pour une fille d'une Coeur ardent on ne s'en defie pas on ne resiste a ce dans sentiment qui s'impose de l'aime alors on est veritablement amorous et qu'importe de le cacher n'est ce pas meme muisible? Car des qu'on le croit amour on s'en epouvante on rouy it et on finit par le vainae.
Je me trouve a M, dans une situation nouvelle j'etais age c'etoit la premiere fois que j'avois ete absent sans une de ma famille ceci me contrary wit un pen et me rendent un peu plus gave quand - mais dans pen je m'accoutu mois a ma situation et j'etus aussi gai qu'a l'ordineire. C'est une chose bien utile pour une jeune personne que ditre san appui on a si rarement l'occasion dans une grandpa mille de juger entierement pour soi que j'aime sa caratese charmante qui n'est compose que de boute tout east bon en elle bon humour, bon natural &c. Chaque mot chague regard respent de cette bonte charmante inspirant la confiance et l'affection n'est ce pas une femme Presque parfaite cette douceur si gai si tenche qui parle dans ses charmante yeux qui sourit dans s'a joli bouche si occupy de ses enfans si desvieux de leur chagner la moinche peine et ses moeurs si simple, son Coeur qui comme son teins pasort avoit ete oublie par le templs et conserve toute la candeur de la jeauness EA. Ajoutex a tout ci a les qualites de fermete d'utilite de constance et vous voyez la feme la plus parfaite vous voyez ma mere.
What is it that renders my mother the most perfect of women. It is because she has every quality we look for in woman and she has no one in extreme! I cannot now recollect one single quality of which I think she has not just right, she has even to the little weaknesses so infinitely attractive in women but she has not one of them beyond just what is enough to render her charming. Is she faultless, no and merely because it is impossible and had I now the power by a word to mend a defect in her do I know one to cure. No surely there is not a single trait in her character that I would even wish to modify. And yet she is seen every day and people [rejoice?] not this excess of everything amiable as a prodigy, she is so made to be useful every day that one forgets how high in the scale of human beings she stands. But when for a moment I stand still to look at her actions to admire her qualities I am astonished how such an angel became my mother. And only I am so much happier than the rest of the world in the possession of such a friend.
I write more confusedly on this subject than upon any other, there is so much crowds upon my mind to express that I never know which deserves to be mentioned first.
She has the art of making masculine qualities feminine and appropriating them to herself.
I find it a very good habit to write down my thoughts as they occur for an idea often strikes me which by turning to some thing else I forget immediately but considering it even so much as is necessary to write it down makes me more acquainted with the subject and makes me thoughts my own. For want of some such plan I see people dreaming away their lives in inactivity of mind without forming any opinion of their own till from paying no attention to their thoughts they learn not to think at all.
Certainly the greatest pleasure on this side Heaven lies in an even and serene a calm composed and steady mind which is inwardly at rest and by consequence at leisure to enjoy all outward comforts: which hopes the best and is prepared for the worst enjoys the present and is not anxiously concerned for the future. Such a temper of mind is the greatest blessing God can bestow because it gives a relish to all other blessings and therefore the greatest folly a man can be guilty of is to part with it upon any account and to quit a certain tranquility now out of a vain fear of being robbed of it some time or other
French transcription. - La religion. . .
It is true our thanks are really as insignificant to God as any other return would be in themselves indeed they are worthey but his goodness hath put a value upon them he hath declared that he will accept them in hin of the vast debt we owe, and after which is fittest for us to dispute how they come to be [taken?] as an equivalent or to pay the.
Noble objects are to the mind what the sun beams are to a bud or flower, they open and unfold as it were the leaves of it put it upon exerting and spreading itself every way and call forth all those powers that he did and locked up in it
2nd January 1809, Monday
Newcastle Assembly. Crews Heathcotes the delicate and delightful pleasure of giving pleasure to those of ones own set that one most wishes to enjoy it.
6th January 1809, Friday
Mary, Mama and Emma went to Eton.
8th January 1809, Sunday
Mr W Bent dined here.
11th January 1809, Wednesday
JC to Macclesfield
13th January 1809, Friday
JC returned home.
15th January 1809, Sunday
Enoch Wood dined here.
19th January 1809, Thursday
The dear party returned home, why does one weep to see friends at only a fortnights absence? And why is one ashamed of ones tears? The first question answers the second. Sir W Jones says the four Vedahs or Indian scriptures completely confirm the mosaic account of the creation &c
On parent knees a naked new born child weeping thou satst while all around smiled. So live that sinking in thy last long sleep. Calm thou mayest smile while all around thee weep.
Sir Billy Jones
2nd February 1809
The Newcastle Assembly. Mr Ed Powys, Mrs Yates managers. A [?] agreeable.
Johnson addressed the plan of his dictionary to Lord Chesterfield but he took no notice of him till his dictionary was on the eve of publication when his lordship wrote two flattering papers in the bold [Word Anne!] this device however missed its aim upon which Johnson wrote the following letter-
To the Right Hon. The Earl of Chesterfield, 1795
I have been lately informed by the proprietor of the World that two papers in which my dictionary is recommended to the publick were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour which being little accustomed to receive favours from the great I know not well how to receive or in what manner to acknowledge.
Then upon some slight encouragement I first visited your Lordship I was over powered like the rest of mankind by the enchantment of your address and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself le vainqueur du vainqueur de la tone. That I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending, but I found my attendance so little encouraged that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your Lordship in Public I had exhausted all the art of pleasing that a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected be it ever so little.
Seven years my Lord have now past since I waited in your outward rooms or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work and have brought it at last to the verge of publication without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect for I never had a patron before. The Shepherd inn Virgil grew at last acquainted with love and found him a native of the rocks. Is not a patron my Lord one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water and when he has reached ground encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours had it been early had been kind, but it has been delayed till I am indifferent and cannot enjoy it till I am solitary and cannot impart it, till I am known and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a Patron, which providence has enabled me to do for myself. Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any favourer of learning I shall not be disappointed though I should conclude it less be possible with less; for I have been long awakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself.
On Bolingbroke [wohs?] and Pelham's death
The same sad morn, to Church and state
So to our sins was fixed by fate
A double stroke was given
Black as the whirlwinds of the north.
St Johns fell genius issued forth
And Pelham fled to Heaven.
Garrick on the loss of his wife.
I have ever since seemed to myself broken off from mankind, a kind of solitary wanderer in the wild of life without any direction or fixed point of view a gloomy gazer on a world to which I have little relation
Scheme of Life for Sunday
To rise early and in order to it to go to sleep early on Saturday
To use some extraordinary devotion in a morning
To examine the tenour of my life and particularly by the last week and to mark my advances in religion and recession from it.
To read the scriptures methodically with such helps as are at hand.
To go to Church twice.
To read books of divinity either speculative or practical.
To instruct my family.
To rear off by meditation any worldly rust contracted in the course of the week.
I know not anything more pleasant or more instructive than to compare experience with expectation or to register from time to time the difference between idea and reality it is by this kind of observation that we grow daily less liable to be disappointed. JC [James Caldwell?]
Hope is in itself a species of happiness and perhaps the chief happiness which this world afford but like all other pleasures immoderately enjoyed the excesses of hope must be expiated by pain. JC.
It is always easy to be on the negative side if a man denied there was salt upon this table, you could not reduce him to an absurdity. JC.
He can have no dependence upon that instinctive that constitutional goodness which is not founded upon principle.
Your levelers would level down as far as themselves, but they cannot bear leveling up to themselves, they would have some people under them, why not some above them.
In polished society a duel must be fought upon an affront as men have agreed to banish from their society one who puts up with an affront without fighting, it s never unlawful to fight in self defence. He who fights a duel does not fight from passion against his antagonist, but out of self defence to avert the stigma of the world and to prevent himself from being driven out of society. I could wish there was not that superfluity of enjoyment but while such notions prevail no doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel.
Vivacity is much an art and depends greatly on habit.
A man should be careful never to tell tales of himself to his own disadvantage. People may be amused and laugh at the time but they will be remembered and thought out against him at some subsequent period.
17th February 1809
Mr W Bent and Papa went to Liverpool. Mama HEC, MC and myself went to call at Basford, a pleasant morning but spoiled by my own want of resolution in coming away.
20th February 1809
JC and WB from Liverpool.
1st March 1809, Wednesday
Went to book sale.
2nd March 1809, Thursday
Chetwodes and Jos Wedgwood dined here.
3rd March 1809, Friday
4th March 1809, Saturday
6th March 1809, Monday
Mama, Papa, HB, MC, JSC to [Ballerton?]
Captain B returned. A fillip to gaiety.
7th March 1809, Tuesday
They returned home.
8th March 1809, Wednesday
Miss Fletchers, Miss S Wedgwood came.
9th March 1809, Thursday
Mr Butt came.
10th March 1809, Friday
Mr Butt went.
11th March 1809, Saturday
13th March 1809, Monday
J's went a pleasant ten days I have spent. Captain Bent, Mr Rawson called, the pleasure of recalling past scenes in present faces.
17th March 1809, Friday
Mr Slater came. Captain Bent, Mr Rawson dined and staid all night. O me felice.
18th March 1809, Saturday
A pleasant sociable long walk, the gents went. Mr Slater went.
19th March 1809, Sunday
MR Wood dined here.
Mr P L died 1766.
The circumstances of Mr Peregrine Langton were these, he had an annuity for life of 2,000 per annum. He resided in a village in Lincolnshre, the rent of his house with two or three small fields was £28. The county he lived in was not more than moderately cheap, his family consisted of his sister who paid him annually £18 for her board and a niece. The servants were two maids and two men in livery. His common way of living at his table was 3 or 4 dishes, the appurtenances to his table were neat and handsome. He frequently entertained company to dinner and then his table was well served with as many dishes as were usual at the tables of the other gentlemen in the neighbourhood. His own appearance as to clothes was generally neat and plain. He had always a post chaise and kept three horses.
Such with the resources I have mentioned was his way of living which he did not suffer to employ his whole income for he had always a sum of money laying by him for any extraordinary expenses that might arise. Some money he put in the stocks. At his death the sum he had there amounted to 150L. He purchased out of his income his household furniture and linen, of which latter he had a very ample store and as I am assured by those who had ample means of judging, not less than the 10th of his income was set apart to charity. At the time of his death 25 pounds was found with a direction to be employed in such uses.
He had laid down a plan of living proportioned to his income, and did not practice any extraordinary degree of parsimony but endeavoured that in his family there should be plenty without waste as an instance that this was his endeavour it may be worth while to mention a method he took in regulating a proper allowance of malt liquor to be drunk in the family that there might not be a [deficiency?] or any intemperate profusion. On a complaint made that his allowance of a hogs head a month was not enough for his own family he ordered the quantity of a hogs head to be put into bottles, had it corked up from the servants, and distributed out every day at one hogs head in a month and told his servants that if it did not suffice he would allow them more but by this method it appeared at once that the allowance was much more than sufficient for the family, this proved a clear conviction that could not be answered and saved all future disputes. He was in general very diligently and punctually obeyed by his servants; he was very considerate as to the injunctions he gave and explained them distinctly and at their first coming into his service steadily exacted a close compliance with them without any remission, and the servants finding this to be the case soon grew habitually accustomed to the practice of their business and then very little further attention was necessary. On extraordinary instances of good behaviour or diligent service, he was not wanting in particular encouragements and presents above their wages; it is remarkable that he would permit their relations to visit them and stay at his house two or three days at a time. The wonder, with most that hear an account of his [acconomy?] will be how he was able with such an income to do so much especially
29th March 1809
My dear Mrs Wedgwood, Bob and [Tessie?] came here to stay a fortnight, how improving to be so long with a model of excellence.
3rd April 1809, Monday
My Aunts from Nantwich.
5th April 1809, Wednesday
Mama and Anne Bent came, a kind heart hides many wants.
8th April 1809, Saturday
The girls went, what satisfaction in our last conversation.
11th April 1809, Tuesday
Dear Mrs W and her sweet little chits left us.
17th April 1809, Monday
The girls went to Liverpool. Mama and Aunt B took them to Knutsford.
18th April 1809
Mama and Aunt B returned bringing Mrs Holland, Mary and Henry. How I longed to roughen by rubbing the wrong way or contradicting, moving a dish of skimmed milk.
20th April 1809
The Hollands went.
22nd April 1809
My Aunts went taking Emma and Louisa.
25th April 1809
Mr Blunt and son dined here.
26th April 1809
My Aunt and I set off for Bostock.
28th April 1809
Left Bostock for Chorley.
29th April 1809
Took a walk to a curious house called Astley [Bees?] in the inside of a thee - To Preston with Mr [N?] Yates, Ellen C and my Aunt. What an ill humour, a hot sun, a dull [place? Beau?] a dirty dusty lane. Miss Noble.
30th April 1809
More Yates's came. Miss Yates and Miss Pool at Chorley.
1st May 1809, Monday
To the play.
2nd May 1809, Tuesday
Miss Yates and P left us.
3rd May 1809, Wednesday
Mr, Mrs France came.
4th May 1809, Thursday
Mr, Mrs F went.
9th May 1809, Tuesday
Came to a deserted home.
10th May 1809, Wednesday
Papa returned and my dear girls from Liverpool.
11th May 1809, Thursday
Mama, MEC, EC from Nantwich.
Every moment of time that is spent in meditations on sin increases the power of the dangerous object that has possessed our imagination.
Haller's Letters to his Daughter.
15th May 1809, Monday
HEC went to Etruria, the Trury.
16th May 1809, Tuesday
James Stamford Caldwell [JSC] returned home from Edinburgh.
17th May 1809, Wednesday
Mr Coombe and party, impudence and vanity.
18th May 1809, Thursday
Mrs Bent and Mr Forest, John Bull and Pawncy. Mr F sang us some Scotch airs in the true stile.
19th May 1809, Friday
HEC [Hannah Caldwell] returned.
20th May 1809, Saturday
Mr Boughey called.
21st May 1809, Sunday
Mr Cahusac[?], JSC, Mama breakfasted at Etruria.
22nd May 1809, Monday
Called at Basford.
23rd May 1809, Tuesday
Set of with Mama HS, MC to London. To Stowe 15 miles, to Wolseley Bridge, fine rich country, to Lichfield, met the Cromptons, saw the Cathedral, beautiful, painted glass from Lille, the effect of the rich colouring exceedingly fine. Why do colours that would be called gaudy elsewhere produce a grand, even sublime effect here? To Shipley Heath. To Coventry, old curious town, the church, the finest spire in the Kingdom.
24th May 1809, Wednesday
To Dunchurch, avenue of trees, great part of the way to Daintry, to Towcester, To Stony Stratford, to Bridhill, to Dunstable the counties of Warwick, Northampton and Buckingham bear a great resemblance, Warwick is very luxuriant and woody and Northampton Downs, few hedges and trees. Buckingham is hilly but they are all highly cultivated. It is astonishing how all the ground is turned to advantage, but the cottages are indeed thinly scattered.
25th May 1809, Thursday
To St Albans, a fine Church which belonged to the oldest convent in England. It is part Saxon and part Gothic, I know not whether the gloomy plainness of Saxon or the impressive majesty and beauty of the Gothic struck me most. The impressions made by immensity and durability and simplicity are perhaps the most forcible but the gloom is not so suitable to the character of our religion. The Saxon depresses one to look at the [year?] the Gothic elevates to the glorious resurrection beyond it, the two emotions of gloomy are, and warm exaltation, are felt very strongly in this magnificent building. Entered town, to Norfolk St which did not at all suit any of our tastes.
Craigney les passions et sachez chaque jour, resister au plaisir, et combattre l'amour.
27th May 1809, Saturday
Went to see Pidiochs, to play with my friends. Henriade.
28th May 1809, Sunday
Went to the foundling.
29th May 1809, Monday
An expedition by sea into the into the east end of the town.
30th May 1809, Tuesday
Drank tea with Mrs Newham.
31st May 1809, Wednesday
Went into Oxford Street and Bond Street.
1st June 1809, Thursday
Mount St and Grosvenor Square.
2nd June 1809, Friday
Mr Adams called.
3rd June 1809, Saturday
Called upon Miss Dales in Gloucester St, Portman Square. To the exhibition. Miss Linwoods. After dinner to Southwark and a ride through the city. The opulence and splendour of the public buildings contrasts strikingly with the meanness and closeness of the streets.
Great fortunes are wasted not by one great expense but by the frequent recurrence of smaller ones.
Time is lost not by a waste of years and months but by a careless profusion of minutes and hours.
Tempers are soured not by one great vexation but by the repetition of small mortifications.
A vicious character is formed not by smiting one great error but by the frequent indulgence in little faults.
The power of habit is as a small thread, finer than the silkworms web winding gradually round and round you till the silken net becomes too strong for force to break or art to unravel. H. Haughton.
Surely in a sermon it is right by eloquent and poetal painting to awaken a sense of delight for memory ever retains what pleasure notes down. M
We do not sufficiently recollect that every indulgence in one fault makes us more liable to commit another. WH.
The mixture of affection, gratitude and esteem which constitutes the greater part of the passion of love in the breast of a woman is a sentiment increased by absence and fostered by imagination in the bosom of retirement. Hamilton
Since the events of life are placed beyond our reach, since it is so seldom in our power to regulate them to our wishes it is the wisest path we can pursue to regulate our desires in such a manner as may prevent our becoming the prey of discontent and losing the enjoyment of the blessings that are let us in perverse and a torture murmurs at inevitable destiny. Hamilton.
4th June 1809, Sunday
To Essex, St. Chapel and to the Magdalen. Mr Baldock called.
6th June 1809, Tuesday
Fanny Heathcote called, a long walk, drowned with rain. Mr Dannison dined with us.
7th June 1809, Wednesday
Went to the Lyceum "Grievings a Folly" and "The Critic." Dirton, Matthews, Elliston and Bannister all comic actors with strikingly different powers and geniuses.
8th June 1809, Thursday
To a water colour exhibition in Spring Gardens, Payne and Glover the best in landscape. The first makes the most beautiful and the latter the most natural pictures. Pray Miss Anne what picture can be beautiful which is not watercolour? This seems a contradiction but the tangled brushwood and plants in Glovers are so exactly what one finds in a common hedge that they give an air of nature unequalled though perhaps they are not sufficiently beautiful not to give an air of commonness which both in poetry and painting is, I think, praised often unworthily on account of its being natural. Heaphy's figures are uncommonly fine, I could not have believed that such a body of colouring could have been given in water colour drawing.
Mill's animal pictures natural yet fine and strikingly beautiful.
Pacocks sea pieces have a wateriness that I cannot ever be tired of admiring my brother among the rest, Nidson, Pienagle and Turner were the most numerous, the first has produced some fine things. To the Opera. Mr Baldock joined our party, a concert first heard, sweet Billington Siboni, Viganoni and Walsh. The Opera of Perir [Pern?], in which there was little but shew and really it seemed almost pantomimical, the dresses too were glaringly gaudy, Le Caliphe de Bagdad was the Ballet where the divine de Hayes, the Bold Angiolini, the puppy Westhis and the amazing Mouan and the pretty Lupino display their various powers. It is delightful to be sure that gaiety and beauty of the scene rendered by the dancing and music so animated. Wicksell[?] led the band in which as he, Holmes, Lindley &c performed. The operation to me is more in good taste than any decorations I ever saw. The simple light and graceful effect of the painting intended to represent Bassorilivo is beautiful. It was not a crowded night, the Princess of Wales was there who at a distance looks a fine handsome woman.
9th June 1809, Friday
Mrs Baldock and Baker called. We went to the Haymarket, met Mr Baldock there. "Five Miles off" "Music Mad" and "A Tale of Mystery" Matthews the chief allurement, he acted charmingly, the house is poor, dirty and till fitted up and ill filled.
10th June 1809, Saturday
Went into Holborn with my Aunt.
11th June 1809, Sunday
Went to Prince's St Chapel, came home through St James's Park and the Stableyard. Called on Miss Fanny Heathcote.
12th June 1809, Monday
Went to Kensington Gravel pits, then to Hammersmith to see Lee and Kennedy's garden, the ride through Hyde Park is beautiful indeed.
13th June 1809, Tuesday
Mrs Heathcote and Fanny called. Miss Dales. FH, Messrs Carpendale, Baldock and Delmar spent the evening. The firm is in alphabetical order. Messrs B,C,D & Co. The whole disappointed though one feature of Raphael's was more beautiful than imagination could have conceived. Some of Tibeans, one of Gaia, Carlo Morath very fine. The Durchone[?] very natural but too common in their subjects to please my [sense??]. Saw "The Invisible Girl" which would have puzzled my wits till I had lost them had I not known how it was. Explain! Friend! An Albine, these kind of people I have since read in Robertson are common in part of the isthmus of Darien[?] but they have a white down on the [shir?] this girl had none, she is an English woman. Maillards exhibition of mechanicks very wonderful, very childish, very unsatisfactory. Went in the evening to Islington and took Mrs Newham with us. Saw her [hon?] melancholy, the lives of old maids grow.
15th June 1809, Thursday
Mr Naughton and his little girl spent the day with us, went to the British Museum, saw some most beautiful statues, a Torso of Hercules, another of Venus, two statues of Venus and several others that come up new to my ideas of the really beautiful, than any thing I ever saw before. I think they are all fine illustrations of Hogarths Analysis but what I particularly admire is the exactness with which they copy the real from the arm for instance in medione[?] figures is one continued [swell?] beginning at the wrist and ending at the elbow beautifully round but not the arm that nature made, these antiques have the flatness that all real wrists have and the swell not beginning so immediately, in short they are perfect nature. I saw some beautiful specimens of native gold which to my surprise is often found in a perfectly pure state, a fine emerald in the form of an oblong wedge of the brightest green but encrusted, and agate filled with water, a very large amethyst, the room of minerals was very interesting. The animals not very much so. That of the different manufactures from the four quarters of the globe is very much so. A fine mantle formed of feathers and several specimens of carving attracted my attention.
16th June 1809, Friday
We went to see the London Docks which disappointed me rather. They are not so strikingly large as I expected. In the evening to Vauxhall with Mr Adams.
18th June 1809, Sunday
To Essex St Chapel and then to Kensington Gardens which delighted me much. Called on Mrs Heathcote. Mr Baldock and Delmar drank tea with us.
20th June 1809, Tuesday
Went with Mr Delmar to the British Gallery, some beautiful landscapes by Payne.
21st June 1809, Wednesday
Saw Du Bourg's Cork models, very much pleased with the amphitheatre of Florence. In the evening went to Astley's where I was deserted [desirted?] but I must say these amusements are too childish to please me taste long. Horses, boats, camels and fairies are not [diversions, murisions?] upon which the mind dwells with satisfaction, it is but what we see every day or what [words crossed out] exists, the charm that really pleases exists not here. [Ricker, Bicker?] on the tight rope pleased me very much.
22nd June 1809, Thursday
Called on the Miss Dales and sat some time with Fanny Heathcote.
23rd June 1809, Friday
Set off home, slept at Dunchurch.
24th June 1809, Saturday
Arrived at dearest Linley Wood.
29th June 1809, Thursday
Mrs Jas Wedgwood dined with us.
3rd July 1809, Monday
A party went to Swinnerton. Maria and John Bent drank tea with us.
5th July 1809, Wednesday
Mrs John Wedgwood and Sally dined with us and staid all night. Mr Wedgwood came in the evening.
6th July 1809, Thursday
They all left us.
9th July 1809, Sunday
I went with JSC [Stamford] to Nantwich
10th July 1809, Monday
12th July 1809, Tuesday
A party dined at Betley.
15th July 1809, Saturday
My Uncle, Mr Collinson and W Pentering[?] dined here. Mr Harry [Aston?] and Mary came in the evening.
17th July 1809, Monday
My Uncle went.
18th July 1809, Tuesday
The Bents, Nouthens and John Wedgwoods dined here, the latter staid all night.
20th July 1809, Thursday
Papa to Stafford.
22nd July 1809, Saturday
My Aunt and Mary to Tenby, Eliza to Etruria.
23rd July 1809, Sunday
JSC to Etruria.
27th July 1809, Thursday
Went with Eliza to Betley Armstead.
28th July 1809, Friday
JSC [Stamford] dined at Betley, Mr Tollet in the evening.
29th July 1809, Saturday
JSC went. Taught dancing.
30th July 1809, Sunday
To Church. Mrs Pennington.
31st July 1809, Monday
Home after dinner.
The last impression in a visit is always the impression that remains. We should be careful then to make that a good one.
5th August 1809, Saturday
To Nantwich with Mama and Mr Houghton[?]
6th August 1809, Sunday
To Chapel and then home with Mama.
8th August 1809, Tuesday
To the Races Course and Ball, crowded and very agreeable. Mr J Crewe Whiddon, R Griffin, Macdonald.
9th August 1809, Wednesday
Course and play "Times a Tell Tale" and "Modern Antiques", the play stupid beyond all names of stupidity, the company very agreeable.
10th August 1809, Thursday
To the Course, Bents &c. and home. JSC to the Moors MEC CLC to Maer.
12th August 1809, Friday
HEC to Sandbach, Yates's, Mr Houghton returned.
13th August 1809, Saturday
Mr Gorton dined at Linley Wood.
14th August 1809, Sunday
Miss Turnivall and HEC [Hannah Caldwell] came to Linley Wood. JSC [Stamford] home and thence to Buxton. We went to the play "Honey Moon" and "Weathercock." Much amused.
15th August 1809, Monday
HEC [Hannah] and Miss F to Sandbach.
17th August 1809, Wednesday
HEC returned home.
17th August 1809
[all crossed out - JSC returned from Buxton. Mr Houghton went.]
18th August 1809, Thursday
We all went to Burslem. H. Holland came.
19th August 1809, Friday
JSC returned. Mr Houghton went. H.Holland to Etruria and home at night.
21st August 1809, Monday
JSC to Buxton and back. H Holland went. To the play "Heir at Law" "Ways and Means" Bannister, Dr Pangloss and Sir David Dunder met the Wedgwoods and Emma and Louisa, Eliza went on to Darlaston.
22nd August 1809, Tuesday
Mama, Papa and Mary Houghton to Maer. JSC and myself to Darlaston. Party Iteatettes Yates's, Mr John Turner, John Wedgwood staid all night.
23rd August 1809, Wednesday
Wedgwoods and JSC [Stamford Caldwell] to Maer.
25th August 1809, Friday
26th August 1809, Saturday
Miss Fletchers, Miss Powys, Mr Boughey and Miss and Mr Armisted came to Linley Wood.
27th August 1809, Sunday
Mr B and A went.
28th August 1809, Monday
The ladies left us.
29th August 1809, Tuesday
Lord and Lady Stafford called. Miss Bents called. JSC to Nantwich.
A man of sense who loves home, and lives at home requires a wife who can and will be at half the expense of mind necessary for keeping up the cheerful animated elegant intercourse which forms so great a part of the bond of union between intellectual and well bred persons. - Coslebs by Mrs H Moore.
She must be elegant or I could not love her, sensible or I should not respect her, prudent or I could not confide in her, well informed or she could not educate my children, well bred or she could not entertain my friends, pious or I should not be happy with her.
If a girl with £1,000 rivals in her dress one with £10,000 is it not obvious that not only all her time but all her money must be devoted to this one object.
She who eagerly grasps at every provincial dissipation would with increased alacrity have plunged into the more alluring gaieties of the metropolis if in her power.
31st August 1809, Thursday
Mr Tollet and Charles dined here.
2nd September 1809, Saturday
Mama, Papa, HEC, JSC dined at Trentham. Staid alone with M Haughton.
3rd September 1809, Sunday
I went to Maer with Eliza in the evening.
4th September 1809, Monday
I came home with Emma and Louisa and walked from Newcastle.
5th September 1809, Wednesday
Mr Jones came to Linley Wood.
6th September 1809, Thursday
Walked to the Tunnel mouth. Mr Jones went.
Le Secret des moindres plaisois de la nature pape ler reason.
L'estime s'use comme l'amour.
Les maxims des homes decelent leur unique cela est vrai!
Nous queullons les malheuresent pour nous dispenser de les plaindre.
Il ne pasait pas que la nature vit fait les homes pour etre lines pour se sous chose a la foueon a ete oblige de se soumettre a la justice. La justice ou la force il a falln opter entre ces duex matires.
Il est bon d'etre . . .
French transcription continues. - Couvenargues.
Accustomed to discriminate carefully whether it was not the animal only that was lovely and the man dull.
The inculcation of prudence, humility, temperance, self denial, this is education. These are tempers and habits which should be laid in early and followed up constantly as there is no day in life that will not call them into action and how can that be practiced which has never been acquired.
Women in their course of action describe a smaller circle than men but the perception of a circle consists not in its dimensions but in its correctness.
Exactness, punctuality and the other minor virtues contribute more than we are aware to promote and facilitate the exercise of higher qualities.
La mediocrite d'esprit et la massese font plus de philosophes que la reflexion.
2nd September 1809, Saturday
Papa, Mama, Eliza and Stamford dined at Trentham, met Mr Payne Knight.
9th September 1809, Sunday
I went with MC HS from Tenby. Papa dined at Newcastle.
10th September 1809, Monday
Dr Crompton and Henry came in the evening.
12th September 1809, Wednesday
The Dr and Henry left us. HS, MC and Mama called at Betley.
Nos actions ne sont ni si bonnes, ni si vi- que nos volontes.
French transcription continues.
Page 82 - 83
French transcription continues.
14th September 1809, Friday
We went to the play "The Best Indian" and "Plot and Countreplot" the play is a poor, illdrawn and worse than that, immoral.
Bents and Fletchers, a very pleasant evening.
15th September 1809, Saturday
JSC went to Etruria where Papa, Mama and HS have been since Thursday.
16th September 1809, Sunday
They returned. John, William and Anne Bent arrived.
This losse springs chiefly form our education.
Some till their ground but le weed moat their some [?]
Some smack [smash?] a partridge never their childs fashion.
Some ship them over and the thing is done
Surely this not make it thy great design
And if gods image more thee not let thine
Some great estates provide but do not [had?]
A mastering mind so both are lost thereby
Or else they heed them tender, make them new
All that they leave this is flat [vierty?]
For he that needs 5,000 pounds to live
Is full as poor as he who needs but five.
The way to make thy son rich is to fill
His mind with rest before his huske wilt kudes [??]
For wealth without contentment climbs
To feel those tempests that fly over ditches
Beset if they son can make ten pounds his measure
Then all thou addest may be called his treasure.
Lines by Mr George Herbert.
For as much as things done in publick view and sight of the sun have in them some thing that is forced and affected, something that is acted and personated so that from them tis the skin and in the heart but things a one far from witnesses and without any design of gaining reputation and consequently free from dissimulation and consequently without any mark or regard, these are they which indeed discors a man and shew his inside which to discern is exceeding profitable.
Life of Piereshins by Galander [?]
Surely woman, amiable woman is often made in vain! Too delicately formed for the rougher pursuits of ambition, too noble for the dirt of avarice and even too gentle for the rage of pleasure formed indeed for and highly susceptible of enjoyment and rapture but that enjoyment alas almost wholly at the mercy of the caprice malevolence stupidity or wickedness of an animal at all times comparatively unfeeling and often brutal.
I have no objection to prefer prodigality to avarice in some few instances but I appeal to your observation if you have not often met with the same hollow hearted insincerity and disintegeui, depravity of principle in [haihney'd?] victims of profusion as in the unfeeling children of parsimony, human existence in the most favourable situation does not abound with pleasures and has its inconveniences and ills capricious, foolish man mistakes these inconveniences and ills as if they were the peculiar property of his particular situation and hence that eternal pohliness[?] and love of change.
Barns Religion by Cromech.
Je vois que la vanite fait le fonds de tous les plaisois et tout le commerie du monde.
Ce n'est pas la pure nature qui est barbare, c'est tout ce qui s'eloigne hop de la belle nature et de la raison.
Seigneur ceut qui esperent en vous s'elevent sans peine au dessus du ces reflxions acublantes; Loisgne le Coeur, prepe sous le poids des affaires, commence a sentir la tristess, ilis se refugient dans vos bras oubliant leurs doulems ils paisent le courage et la pais a leur source bousles echauffley sous vos ailes et dans votre sein partimel vous faits briller a leurs yeux le flambean sacre de la foi l'entre n enter pas dans leur l'ambition ni le trouble opint l'injustice et la calimnie ni peurant pres meme l'aigeir.
French transcription continues.
24th September 1809.
W and Anne Bent went.
25th September 1809
HEC from Etruria, that horrible creature A.Yates came.
26th September 1809
J.Y went. I went to Basford. Girls and Dr T.B.
27th September 1809
I returned home.
28th September 1809
Mama and my Aunt Mary and I to Darlaston. Mr and Mrs W Sneyd, Mr and Mrs Jos Wedgwood.
30th September 1809
Mary and I went to Etruria.
1st October 1809.
Went to Hanley with Mrs Wedgwood in her gig, was overthrown by the shaft breaking and broke my arm and my rib. Mama and Eliza and Stamford came. The two last returned at night.
2nd October 1809
Stamford came to see me.
3rd October 1809
Miss S Wedgwood came to see me.
4th October 1809
Papa came to me.
6th October 1809
My Aunt and the girls came. Eliza staid.
10th October 1809, Tuesday
I let my bed.
12th October 1809, Thursday
My arm was set, the operation short but painful.
15th October 1809. Sunday
My arm was set again.
16th October 1809, Monday
Party at Etruria, violent pain all day.
18th October 1809, Wednesday
I went down stairs. The Bents called.
19th October 1809, Thursday
Mama left me.
23rd October 1809, Monday
25th October 1809, Wednesday
Mama came again.
26th October 1809, Thursday
The Bents came again.
27th October 1809, Friday
30th October 1809, Monday
HEC left Etruria.
3rd November 1809, Friday
Returned home. Mr Houghton and Mary at Linley Wood.
5th November 1809, Sunday
My Uncle came.
6th November 1809, Monday
My Uncle went.
7th November 1809, Tuesday
Mr H and Mary went.
14th November 1809
Mary, Mama and my Aunt went to London. My Uncle, Mr Skerret and Mr Jackson dined here.
20th November 1809
21st November 1809
Captain Bent and Edward Crompton dined and staid all night.
22nd November 1809
They left us.
26th November 1809
Edward Crompton came.
27th November 1809
Took my first lesson from Mr Strevins
28th November 1809
Went to Basford about my arm. Blunts dined here.
29th November 1809
30th November 1809
Went to Darlaston, met the Darwins.
1st December 1809
4th December 1809
Mrs Wedgwood and children and Miss S.W. came to us.
6th December 1809
11th December 1809
Mrs W &c went.
15th December 1809
HEC and myself to Darlaston, the Tollets and Yates's dined there. Mr and Mrs John Wedgwood and Mr W Dickenson.
16th December 1809
We went to Etruria with Mrs W.
18th December 1809
Newcastle Assembley. Mrs Powys and Dr Northen.
24th December 1809
Mr Bents dined here.
29th December 1809
My Aunts from Nantwich came.
30th December 1809
Mama, my Aunt and Mary returned from London.
Ah mes enfants ci qui interfere le Coeur et l'ame est dout dans tous les temps ce qui na flalle que l'orgenil ne nous revient que comme un vain songe dont on vous git d'avoir trop aimer l'erieur
Studious to please and ready to submit.
The subtile Gaul was born a parasite.
Still to his interest true in wherever he goes,
Wit, bravery worth his lavish tongue bestows
In every face a thousand graces shine
From every tongue flows harmony divine.
These arts in vain our rugged natives try
Strain out, with faltering diffidence a lie
And get a kick for awkward flattery.
Hast though not found at early dawn
Some soft idea steal away
If over sweet vale or flowery lawn
The sprite of dreams hath bid thee stray
Hast thou not some fair abject seen
And when the fleeting form was passed
Still on thy memory found its mien
And felt the fond idea last
End of 1809.
High-thoughted son of truth-directing
Thee with indissoluble chains perforce
Must I now revet to this savage rock
Where neither human voice, nor human form
Shall meet thine eye, but parching in the beams,
Unsheltered, of yon fervid sun, they bloom
Shall lose its grace, and make thee wish the approach
Of grateful evening mild, whose dusky stole
Spangled with gems shall veil his fiery heat;
And night upon the whitening ground breathe frore,
But soon to melt, touched by his orient ray
[Aeschylus, Prometheus Chained]
Ethereal air, and ye swift-winged winds,
Ye rivers springing from fresh founts, ye waves
That over the interminable ocean wreath
Your crisped smiles, thou all-producing Earth.
And thee, bright Sun, I call, whose flaming orb
Views the wide world beneath, see what, a god
I suffer from the gods.
How easy when the foot is not entangled
In misery's thorny maze, to give monitions
And precepts to the afflicted.
For thee I heave the heart-felt sigh
My bosom melting at thy woes;
For thee my tear-distilling eye
In streams of tender pity flows:
For Jove's imperious ruthless soul,
That scorns the power of mild control
Chastens with horrid torturing pain
Not known to gods before his iron reign.
I feel in every deed defining[?] roar
The firm earth rock, the thunder's flumes
Rolls with redoubled rage; the bickering flames
Flash thick; the eddying sands use whirled on high;
In dreadful opposition the wild winds
Rend the vexed air; the boisterous billows rise
Confounding sea and sky; the impetuous storm
Rolls all its terrible fury on my head
Seest thou this, aweful, Themis; and thou, Ether
Thro' whose pure azure floats the general stream
Of liquid light see you what wrongs I suffer!
Eschylus - Prometheus Chained.
Dwells in this land some auger near?
If these sad wailings reach his ear
Will he not deem the mournful note
Warbled from Philomela's throat,
Such time as from the falcons wing
She leaves her favourite haunt and spring,
And over her nest and over her young
Attunes her sweetest saddest song;
And in the melancholy strain
Laments the fate of Itys slain
In sullen rage the mother stands
And in the son's blood baths her hand.
Joves firm decree though wrapped in night
Beams midst the gloom a constant light
Mans fate obscure in darkness lies
Not to be pieced with mortal eyes
The just resolves of his high mind
A glorious consummation find;
Though in majestic state enthroned
Thick clouds and dark enclose him round.
Ah! never may malignant skies
Blast the fresh glories of your plains;
Nor pestilence with poisonous breath
Waste your thin towns with livid death
No wars stern power deface
The blooming flowers that youth's fair season grace.
How my frame trembles! Ah my father
With winged speed the ships arrive; between
No interval of time; my siffening limbs
Are chained with fear, and every hope of safety
If safety lies in flying far, is lost.
Forsake me not, ah, leave me not alone
A forsaken woman is very weak.
Ah that I could as smoke arise
That rolls its black wreaths through the air;
mixed with the clouds, that over the skies
show their light forms, and disappear:
or like the dust be tossed
by every sportive wind, till all be lost
Oh might I sit sublime in air,
Where watery clouds the freezing snows prepare!
Or on a rock whose threatening brow
The aerial vulture's unreached seat,
In solitary state
Frowns ruinous over the affrighted waste below;
Rolled headlong down its rugged side,
A mangled carcass let me lie,
Ere dragged a pale reluctant bride
Victim to sad necessity;
And my indignant heart
Feel the keen wounds of sorrows torturing dart.
Oh thou assigned the wretches friend
To bid his miseries end
And in oblivions balm to steep his woe;
Come, gentle death, ere that sad hour
Which drags me to the nuptial bed;
And let me find in thy soft power
A refuge from the force I dread
Oh spread thy sable cloud
And in its unpierced gloom our sorrows shroud
Nor, queen of love, shall our mellifluous lays
Be silent in they praise:
For thou, next heaven's imperial queen
In highest grace with Jove art seen,
And mighty deeds declare they power:
The passions hear thy soft control;
They sweet voice melts the willing soul
Enchanted with thy honeyed lore.
Woe, Woe intolerable woe!
Fierce from the camps the hosts advance,
Before their march with thundering tread
Proud over the plain their fiery coursers prance,
And hither bend their footsteps dread:
Yon cloud of dust that chokes the air,
A true though tongueless messenger,
Marks plain the progress of the foe
And now the horrid clash of arms,
That, like the torrent, whose impetuous tide
Roars down the mountains shaggy side,
Shakes the wide fields with fierce alarms,
With nearer terrors strikes our souls,
And through our chaste recesses rolls.
Nor in misfortune nor in dear success
Be woman my associate: if her power
Bears sway, her insolence exceeds all bounds
But if she fears, woe to that house and city.
I would obey thee; but my breast
Yet pants with fear, and knows not rest:
And as the trembling dove, whose tears
Keep watch in her uneasy bower,
Thinks in such rustling leaf she hears
The serpent gliding to devour,
I tremble at each sullen sound
Of clashing arms, that roars around:
Assert your glory on the foe
Pour rout and havoc and dismay
Confusion wild soul withering woe
And flight that flings his arms away
From house to house from street to street
The crashing flumes roar round and meet
Each way the fiery deluge preys
And girds us with the circling blaze
The brave, that midst these dire alarms
For their lost country greatly dare,
And fired with vengeance rush to arms,
Fall victims to the bloodstained spear
The bleeding babe with innocent cries,
Drops from his mother's breast, and dies.
See rapine rushes, bent on prey;
His hasty step brooks no delay.
For his generous soul wishes to be,
Not to appear, the best;
And from the culture of his modest worth
Bears the rich fruit of great and glorious deeds.
Aeschylus Seven Chiefs against Thebes.
Oh thou that sits supreme above,
Whatever name thou deigns to hear,
Unblamed may I pronounce thee Jove!
Immersed in deep and holy thought,
If rightly I conjecture ought,
Thy power I must revere:
But since the inevitable ill will come,
Much knowledge to much misery is allied;
Why strive we then to anticipate the doom,
Which happiness and wisdom wish to hide?
To Ilions towers in wanton state
With speed she wings her easy way;
Soft gales obedient round her wait,
And pant on the delighted sea.
Attendant on her side
The richest ornaments of splendid pride
The darts, whose golden points inspire,
Shot from her eyes, the flames of soft desire;
The youthful bloom of rosy love'
That fills with ecstasy the willing soul;
With duteous zeal obey her sweet control.
Vindictive round her nuptial bed,
With threatening mien and footstep dread,
Rushes, to Priam and his state severe
To rend the bleeding heart his stern delight,
And from the bridal eye to force the tear,
Erinny's rising from the realms of night.
Some there are who form themselves
to seem more than to be
Transgressing honesty: to him that feels
Misfortunes rugged hand full many a tongue
Shall drop condolence though the unfeeling heart
Knows not the touch of sorrow there again.
In fortunes summer gale with the like art
Shall dress in fixed smiles the unwilling
Few have the fortitude of mind to honour
A friends success without a touch of envy
For that malignant passions to the few
Cleaves close and with a double burden load
The man infected with it first helped[?]
In all their weight his own calamities
Then sighs to see the happiness of others
And this I know that many who in public
Have born the semblance of my firmest friends
Are but the flattering image of a shadow
Reflected on a mirror all save Wlighes[?].
Ah me what hope! This mortal state
Nothing but wind change can know
Should cheerful health our [wigions?] steps await
Enkindling all her roseate glow
Disease creeps on with silent pace
And withers every blooming grace
Proud sails the bark the fresh gales breathe
And dash her on the rocks beneath
In the rich house the treasures plenty pours
Comes sloth and from her well posed shiny
Scatters the piled up stores.
Woe woe oh Earth Apollo oh Apollo
Chorus. Why with that voice of woe invoke Apollo.
Page 112 - 5
Transcription of Aeschylus Agamemnon continues.
Sensuality has a specific effect upon the mind. The heart is rendered unsusceptible of religious impressions, incapable of a serious regard to religion and this effect belongs to sins of sensuality more than to other sins.
Practical Christianity may be defined in three words, devotion, self government, and benevolence. The love of God in the heart is a fountain from which these three streams of virtue will not fail to issue.
Merely controlling the actions will not do in point of a fact it is never successful without purifying the thoughts.
There are two topics of exhortation which together comprise the whole Christian life and one of which belongs to every man living and these are conversion and improvement.
Where less may be blamed in our lives much may remain to be set right in our hearts our tempers and dispositions. Let our affections grow more and more holy, our hearts more and more lifted up to God and loosened from this present world not from its duties but from its passions, its temptations, its over anxieties and great selfishness.
It is not slight work to bring our tempers to what they should be patient, plaiable, compassionate, slow to be offended, soon to be appeased, free from envy, from busts of anger, from aversions to particular persons, to rejoice with those whose joiie, and weeping when we can do no more with those that weep, in a word to put on charity with all those qualities with which St Paul has clothed it for H which send for that purpose.
I must not think of having to myself alone nor devote that time to imitate the employment of anger, that was given me for the service of men.
Have I not indulged a nice fancy in taking some disgust against those I conceive with which trifling as it may seem may in time alienate our minds from one another? A disagreeable look or manner too often gives a prejudice against persons the most deserving. Let me be upon my guard against such prejudices.
People who are always innocently cheerful and good humoured are very useful in the world. They maintain peace and happiness.
Politeness represses the ambition of shining alone and increases the desire of being mutually agreeable. It takes the edge of raillery and gives delicacy to wit.
Accomodableness is the art of setting so loose from our own humours and designs that the mere having expected or intended or wished a thing to be otherwise than it is shall not for a moment discour upon us.
In short the life of society is the life of constant unremitting mortification and self denial. To keep the mind in right frame amid ten thousand interruptions to be regular diligent without the possibility of a settled plan. To spread cheerfulness when one is not pleased to support it in ones self when others are dejected.
Selfishness therefore should be continually overcome, it is the bane of affection usefulness and happiness.
Let but your whole behaviour flow from one fixed principle of duty and you may always secure. Be therefore equally affable to all kinds of people, study to please even those who are far from pleasing you, make yourself agreeable to those whose praise you are sure you do not seek. Study to oblige the heavy, the low, the tedious and in whatever company you are never aim at shining.
We had need often to recollect what are our duties and our dangers that we may avoid the one and fulfil the other.
Dwelling much in our thoughts on other persons unreasonableness is a sort of revenge that like all other revenge hurts ourselves more than them.
It is mere cheating ones self to take things easily and patiently at the time and then refine[?] and complain in looking back upon them. This is to enjoy all the pride and self applause of patience and all the indulgence of impatience.
Miss Talbots Works.
He calls on his friends, his friends are gone
And in the field of death Wallace stands alone.
Not all the joys that gild our span
The bright extremes of human bliss
Can pay the beast of mortal man
For such an hour as this
When the hero lends his spirit high
And trembling own humanity
And when his stubborn heart must low
Beneath the scorpion lash of woe.
And he marks each cherished phantom fly
And his breast swells with hopes last sigh
Tis then from false illusion freed
He tastes the fallen hero's meed
Wallace of the Battle of Falkirk
The flesh of Merimarra[?]
Crept on her bones with terror and her knees
Trembled with their trembling weight
Soul struck she rushed away
She fled the place of tombs
She cast herself upon the earth
All agony and tumult and despair
And in that wild and desperate agony
Sure marinurra had died the utter death
If aught of evil had been possible
On this mysterious night
For this was that most holy night
When all created things know and adore
The hand that made them insects, beasts and birds
The water dwellers, herbs and trees and stones
Yea earth and ocean and the infinite heaven
With all its worlds.
Therefore on mamuina the elements
Shed healing, every breath she breathed was balm
Was not a flower but sent in incense up
Its richest odours, and the sorry affair
How like the music of the Seraphim
Entered her soul, and now
Made silence woeful by their sudden pause
It seemed as if the quite moon
Poured quietness, its lovely light
Was like the smile of reconciling heaven
Is it the dew of night
That down her glorious cheek
Shines in the moon beam? Oh! She weeps she 0-
And the good angel that abandoned her
At her [Hetl?] baptism by her tears drawn down
Resumes his charge.
For Hamlet and the trifling of his favours
Hold it a fashion a toy
A violet in the youth of princy[?] nature
Toward not permanent sweet, not lasting
The perfume and suppliance of a minute
But look the moon in russet mantle clad
Walks over the dew of yon high eastern hill
Me del sen della madre empia Fortuna
Pargolello drielse, ah di que'baci
Oh ella bagno di lagrinie dolente
Italian? Transcription continues - Tasso.
Directions for cleaning Britania White Metal goods
For tea and coffee pots &c
Take a soft brush, with a little soft soap, and warm water, brush them well, wipe them quite dry with a linen cloth, set them near the fire to warm, and wipe them with a wash leather skin and whiting. If not very dirty rubbing them with soft leather will be sufficient.
Candle sticks, bottle stands &c to be rubbed only with dry leather and if very dirty a little spirits of wine.
Page 135 [from back of book in other direction]
Books read 1808
"Thalaba" by Southey. This Poem caught my fancy exceedingly, there is something rich and wild in Arabian scenery and Arabian superstitions that particularly pleases me and I think Southey's genius seems particularly calculated for it. He possesses in a moment, a great variety of fancy and the touching scenes of affection to all the wildness and horror of enchantments and witches, his descriptions are very well and mightily coloured without being gaudy. The notes display a very superior share[?] of information.
Madoc by Southey founded on the tradition of some witch[?] founding a colony in America long before the time of Columbus, the scene is laid half in Wales, half in Ascland or Mexico. The poem did not please me quite so much as Thalaba. I think the latter part particularly rather tedious and there is an affectation, I think, of loud and long names which destroy the harmony of the verse, neither of the poems are written in rhyme and harmony, indeed there appears to be none but I understand that Southey says read in a portion[?], if I may so express it.
There is another fault too, I think, in all the modern poets, their style is too diffuse. Southey, however, certainly had the fancy and the feeling of a true poet and in conversation the knowledge and elegance of a gentleman. In Thalaba Miss SW says that what I called fancy is only information as all that he describes is found in the notes, but the feeling, I think, cannot be disputed him.
"Poems" by Wordsworth. One of them, 'The Female Vagrant,' I much admire, some few others I rather liked, for the rest are not worth wasting words upon.
Campbell's 'Pleasures of Hope[?]'. I do not much like such subjects as this poem. They do not sufficiently command my attention and they require a very superior beauty in the poetry to please me. Campbell is, however, sweet and tender and some passages are indeed of very superior beauty.
Pope's "Homers Iliad." This poem pleased me exceedingly, the intense beauty of it is such that in prose the Iliad must be delightful. The variety of characters all so well supported. The ideas and allusions so various yet so rich and the tenderness of some scenes so exquisite. All these suffer little in the translation but when we come to the battles which in the original must be so truly beautiful the diffuseness with which the translation is obliged to relate them is tedious, and one is apt to hurry[?] them over the variety of deaths in the original, shortness would be one of its greatest beauties but I can not help thinking Pope has sacrificed their exactness of the translation in these and the attitudes so peculiarly admired in Homer to the rhyme upon the whole. We ladies are so very much obliged to Pope for making us acquainted with such a poet that gratitude ought to forbid criticism.
Crabbes Poems - Consisting of "The Village," "Village Register," "Sir Eustace" and a few others. Crabb's descriptions are true and nervous but they do not exactly please me. His subject is too familiar, the description of a village like Butt Lane to those who know the thing can only recall unpleasant images and to those who do not as they cannot compare the beauty of the description which consists in it justness is lost, yet when he comes to character the delicacy with which some and the strength with which others are drawn, shows great ability. His lines are not harmonious, there is a kind of break[?] in the tune which to me is very unpleasant. 'Sir Eustace' is in general much admired, perhaps the description of madness may be fine, of this I am no judge, but there are some exceedingly weak lines.
"A Glorious Girl" is certainly a poor epithet.
Goldsmith's poems. "Deserted Village" and "Traveller Related." To me Goldsmith is the most pleasing of our minor poets, there is such a bewitching sweetness runs through every line, so much feeling, tenderness and delicacy in all his descriptions, his colouring so vivid in some places, so soft in others. His descriptions are not true ones of English villages yet the separate patterns[?] may be found in all though the reunion[?] of them in none to attempt to notice particular beauties[?] is endless, are not his poems a collection of them! Though there are no very superior ones, except "In Retolliation[?]" where he seems to have arrived at the perfection of the art of few words to ideas, every line particularly in his "Edmund Borke" might be made the concluding one, in an epigram so much point and idea in all.
"Zadig" by Voltaire. There is a great deal of point in this story. I remarked a little insinuation against the [wille?] just slipped in as it were, because Voltaire could not write without jisting at the expense of religion. This man has great power of amusing, interesting and pleasing but when I consider the principles upon which these powers were used my whole soul rises up against him and his books fill my heart with detestation.
"History of the Savage of Aveyron" An interesting account of this poor little boy. It seems to me that the arguments of this writer rather tend against it, religion though, he does not mention it. I think the proof here given that man without education is little more than a brute proves that according to our scriptures divine revelation must first have been employed to supply the want of it in Adam and Eve.
Threbaults "Memoirs of Frederick the Second." The most amusing book I ever read and internal evidence is strongly in favour of its being true. The characters are all so different, the anecdotes related of them so true to nature and to the characters. I seemed to become acquainted with every one of them.
Maxal's "Memoirs." An account of the Polish and German courts under Stanislaus. Count Pousentowski[?] and Maria Theresa interesting and giving one a good idea of what men and women sovereigns are in their own courts.
Webers "Memoirs of Marie Antionette." Partial it must be for if he is true for once an angel came down from heaven to fill the throne of France. His account of the causes of the French Revolution very clear and comprehensive.
"Conversation" a poem. A little light pointed epai. There little jeu d'epir are so rarely good for anything that this appears shining among its brother ephemerae.
Two more volumes of harmontits contes huraux, in which I vainly looked for the wit, the luxuriance of imagination. Of the first it is true in some of them, the embers of his expiring genius seemed to emit a little transient flame, a strong wit now and then like Marmontel, but what is that after reading tales in which every line flashes with brilliancy or [envious?] better luxuriance. M de Norlis in "La Beillee" and "Les Solitaries de Murcie" and "Les Dejeunis du Village" abound the most with strokes a Marmontel.
Clarkson's "History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade" not quite so interesting as I expected. Parliamentary debates make up too much of the book.
Boswell's "Life of Johnson" a book the most entertaining, instructive and delightful that I know combining the ridicule of Boswell and the sense of Johnson in a way that puts one in perfect good humour till the end when Boswell becomes too ridiculous to be put up with. This plan of writing biography pleases me exceedingly, next to being personally acquainted with a person surely to have his opinions, his conversations &c in the very words in which he delivered them is the best.
Beatties' "Essays," amusing light things upon poetry, music and the ludicrous. His ideas are good, his style clear and light and interesting [smiting, writing?] well the subject that he undertakes.
Dryden's "Fables of Absolom" and "Achitophel" &c. This poetry is sterling and unaffected, sometimes to too much simplicity, his ideas clearly painted and brilliantly coloured without artifice in the words, or composition to comical. Scantiness of matter his fables abound with strokes of wit, and the point is very prevalent in his lines yet fairly to speak the truth I was not enchanted by is poetry to that degree which I expected. They are sudden flashes of description, sudden burst of passion or vehemence of distress that strike to transport me. I have not in Dryden [much, met?] with any of these captivating lines but greater knowledge of them may correct this judgment from which I ought to except the ode "St Cecilias Day" which delights me beyond the power of expression, when reading Johnson's "London," witty short and nervous like Johnson's observations.
Langhormes poems. They are rather sweet than strong, mellifluous, though I hate the term, and like honey, cloying. They fatigue the [reader's?] eye by giving nothing but bright colours and those with little variety, for change his subject as he will, the picture, the imagination is always the same.
Campbell's "Gertrude of Wyoming." This is trifling in many places and Campbell has not the uniform dignity necessary to carry him through so long a poem, for this is generally disapproved and yet Ontahpis song which may be considered as a piece to itself, can anything be [prier? Prettier?]? To me Campbell does not appear to possess variety of genius, his tender descriptions are weak and his speeches untouching, but in scenes of war, death and dread, he is grand, wild and terrific, for instance Lochiel, Broken Linden &c.
Plam [Plain?] translated from the German by [Sotherby?]. To me the least qualification of a poem, the story, is here new and interesting, an excellent foundation upon which they have raised a poor trifling superstructure. This book is adorned by some of the wretchedest things the poor pencil of Fuzili ever produced.
Denons "Travels" amused me much as everything written in character does. This is a French book in every line, much is let out unawares of French vanity, presumption and cruelty which is to be sure, strongly against them. I was much struck with a trait of character where the French generals after the Battle of the [Hill?] which deprived them of all hopes of provisions or escape amused themselves with ridiculing the sailors for being beat at sea and talking of Marad Beg's white camel. Denon's remarks upon the antiquities are ingenious but not satisfactory. I am surprised to find how little of what is really wonderful thee is to be found in this land of wonders.
Robertson's "History of America." A very amusing and instructive book which opened a completely new world of information to me, his account of Columbus is really affecting and his style is wonderfully attractive, but I do think him partial in his account of the tale of the Americans. I do not think he is warranted in his deductions by the facts he relates, he could make those almost Brutis[?] whose arts and ingenuity might be admired by civilized men. I do think it is as much an argument of their ingenuity forming without tools and tame animals the [rock work?]] and structures that they formed as it is of their barbarism not to have invented tools or tames animals.
Townsend's "Spain." This book is more an account of manufactures natural productions and political occonomy than of men and manners and therefore less interesting to women but it contains much useful information and gives one a good general idea of this country, so much now the theme of conversation and theatre of action. From his account superstition and tyranny and false policy have defaced and clouded one of the finest countries upon which the sun ever shone, particularly Valencia and Marcia. The women enjoy much freedom in one town, some promises of a wife swears her husband has ill treated her, he is confined in prison and if she swears he has beaten her his confinement lasts several years.
Johnson's "Vanity of Human Wishes," a nervous and excellent satire in sterling good poetry.
Moore's "Tales of the Passion," "Revenge." I do not like the structure of this tale. The wicked man who has ruined Lucy Wilson and Montalbert ungrateful hard-hearted and designing as he is represented is not a character to reform into the affectionate tender and charming husband, the two characters are not the same, the man who had the meanness to receive every species of obligation from Montalbert and then seduce his wife must have a fonds of wickedness that no change could cure, he who could seduce and have so innocent, so gentle, so feminine a girl must have a strong heart that no change would soften, then surely not a continuance in the [fictifying?] ways of vice. "Lucy Wilson" has a tender soft disposition, circumstances are represented to change this into all that is diabolical in revenge burning hatred take possession of her mind.
Such a tender heart could have been broken but could not by circumstances have become silent. Had her disposition in her days of innocent been virtuous ardent and generous ardour of virtue would change for ardour in vice and generous spirit into a violent one. Tenderness may sink into madness, it never can rise to uncontrolled vehemence in any change of situation. Perfect purity of conduct is represented as so impossible a thing that it is vain to expect it from a young man whether the thing be false or not. Books should represent nature as it ought to be in characters destined for imitation and is there a greater sanction for vice than to say virtue is impossible. The style of language in many parts is wild and horrible with a good deal of that force and verse that I love.
Godwin's "Fleetwood." The tale is taken from that of M. de Valimise in Les Veillees du Chateau, but worked up with sentiments in circumstances and notions so wild, horrible and appearing to proceed from such a dreadful and depraved mind that I never could love the man who wrote such a book where all is dark, the mind from which it proceeds must have its affections black as Erebus.
Gassenders "Life of Pouskins." A philosopher of the time of Henry the fourth of France, he appears to have possessed a very clear and penetrating understanding and very able in conjecture, a kind of ability much favoured by the study of antiquities, his principle pursuit, his steady opposition to superstitions of onery witches &c so prevalent in those times.
I was struck too by his theory of the comet which appeared in his time with a tail stretching along an 8th of the heavens, which everybody considered as a portent of the disastrous times which followed. He supposed at [present?] visible rarely on account of the immense distance it travelled. Galileo first used telescopes astronomically and discerned Jupiter's moons. He was a friend of [pierishins?]. This old book is written in a simple yet nervous style, it is strange but the farther back we go the more like children men write, the style of this book is Emma's, Louisa's or mine four years ago.
"Sir Charles Grundison" by Richardson. This novel is very tedious, some few good scenes, but in general it is not human nature but the ladies and gentlemen of -17 that are represented.
"Amelia" by Fielding. How different was my mind affected by these two books. Amelia bears the date of no time, it is nature as it was and ever will be.
Stedman's "Surinam." Very amusing if one were but sure it was true.
Burn's works. I admire his letters beyond everything, there is a force of expression, a depth of thought, a power of imagination in his letters that to me shews more true genius than all the pretty rhimes in the world. After reading these [pretty, fourth?] compositions I was rather disappointed in his muse. There is a want of impetuous genius in her song that rather surprised me. "The Cotters Saturday night wandering," "Billie and the Mill Mill 0" are tender and beautiful.
"Ida of Athens" by Miss Ovenson. This book has much of the enrapturing dangerous charm of French novels, it is a book of genius, wild luxuriant and if properly pruned would be beautiful.
"The Man of [Tuling, Faling?]" - Mackenzie. The character of the man himself is written by one who knew too well the little [-] but numberless wounds that a nervous, sensitive mind receives unpitied and un[-]ed but the general story I was disappointed in, there was an imitation of Sterne which I cannot admire. Old Edwards is beautiful.
"Schillers "History of the German 30 Years War." He has made a most interesting story of this wonderful period when [huves?] rose and fell like flowers in bright succession. Gustave's Adophus a truly Christian hero.
Wallenstein ambitious designing yet his plans those of a great and powerful mind dark and vengeful. Yet he the greatest general of his age a prey to superstition and guided by the stars. Bernard Duke of Sasebeimar
Mansfield Silly, the two first leading their own armies through the empire, soldiers of fortune. The last, the [ferent, perverse?] general of the Duke of Bavaria. Banner and several great generals still supported the glory of the Swedish arms after the Battle of Lutzer. This war was occasioned by the disputes of the Catholic and Protestants and by it was established the balance of Europe which remained till the French Revolution. James 1st, Charles 1st reigned in England. Louis 13th in France, Ferdinand the 2nd in Germany, till the latter end of the war concluded by the Peace of Westphalia. H in 1748 or near it.
Books read in 1810
Nightingales "History of Methodism" Vol 1 ed. A curious account of the internal occonomy of this curious sect, a church existing among us governed by laws and supported by taxes of which we know little or nothing. It was first established by John, and Charles Wesley when they went to college in somewhere about the year 1715. They were only much more regular and methodical than other men, more strict in their principles and virtuous in their practice. It was the Moravians who gave then shortly afterwards their wild enthusiastic doctrines. They have a regular establishment of Band meetings, class meetings, prayer meetings, love feasts &c. These are chiefly for the purpose of collecting money, hearing confessions, preaching and praying.
It is curious to observe how all their doctrines are good exaggerated into evil and when this is the case how plausible they appear, the little of good sanctifies the whole lump they are difficult to controvert, the good pleads too strongly and they are easily implanted, thus their confessing all their sins in band meetings proceeds from the desire of making them think over their lives. The doctrine of sudden conversion, from the idea of one good impression [being?] the beginning of grace which encreased lasts us through life. The doctrine of Faith and not works is only an exaggeration of the idea that a good action done for the love of god is the only truly virtuous.
Potter's "Aeschylus" 2 volumes. I could not have believed that the simple plot of the ancient tragedy could so powerfully have affected me. I was more struck by Agamemnon than by any thing of the kind I ever read, Shakespeare alone excepted and even he, nature's darling child, never roused my feeling more completely than Aeschylus in the scene where Cassandra prophecies to the Chorus her own death and that of Agamemnon. It is sublime, pathetic and so truly what one should expect from her noble soul that I never was more delighted. Prometheus Chained is the portrait of a noble daring spirit unbroken by misery and scorning the injustice by which it suffers. The [Greeks?] know well what Spirit was. The Chorus's are beautiful, some truly Miltomi sweet plaintive melting, then bursting into dazzling flame and are striking thunder. In short I am bewitched when I think of them. Potter must have done great justice to the original but what must Aeschylus be in Greek?!
Beattie's "Minstrel." The first book enchanted me. I have felt here some of the feelings he describes so truly and his descriptions of sunshine and shade and wood and wild &c are so true to nature, not too gaudy or too dashing but England and Scotland as they are. The Stanzas where he exhorts to enjoy the country inspired me more to throw off the shackles of the world then anything I ever read.
The second book falls off and it is perhaps well for Beattie that he never finished it.
Vaughan's "Seige of Saragozza." An interesting account of what true patriotism can do. And a proof of what Spain might have done had they all been patriots.
Niales account of the expedition under Sir John Moore 1 volume. The book amused me much as giving an account of what is generally kept back in military histories, the private life of the army. But I dislike the man who appears superficial and judges and blames any hero in an underhand, mean way. [N Jly?] found fault with one of the finest specimens of art.
"The Star in the East" a sermon by Buchanan, pamphlet an interesting account of the conversions and increase in Christianity in Asia. He say there are thousands, hundreds of thousands of Christians in that continent, primitive Christians many of them. That there are traces of our religion and the history of Christ to be found among the superstitions of the natives. Percival in his history of Ceylon I recollect mentions one or two of these particularly an image the history of which to the wound in the side and crucifixion agreed with that of our saviour. Buchanan supposes much of this to have been carried by the wise men of the East back into their own country. This is a curious proof of Christianity if any were wanting. I do not think him right in his idea that the doctrine of the Trinity is adopted in some of the Hindoo superstitions. Three different persons intended to represent the different attributes in one is a common idea in many different religions existing long before Christ, as Hecate, Dianna and [blank] I forget her other name applied to Dianna. Pluto, Neptune and Jove. In the Persian mythology the same is discernable. The creator, preserver and saviour being 3 different ideas of one.
The story of Abdullah and Sandib one of whom suffered martyrdom and who were both converted by merely reading the scriptures is to me a most delightful one. Upon the whole this book inclined me much to the missionary but one is apt to go with the last studied opinion.
"Tales of Fashionable Life" by Miss Edgworth, 3 volumes duo. As with all Miss Edgworth's books I was exceedingly amused and interested by these. "Ennui" is the best, I think. The character of Lord Glenthorn and his whole Irish adventures are excellent, indeed whenever she gets upon Irish ground she is truly admirable. Lady Geraldine is new and I think very true to nature. But throughout this and all the other stories there is a vein of pedantry that is quite ridiculous, all her allusions are to books. Nature seems quite forgotten and I should imagine that any romantick fondness of that kind is as much out of her head as mineralogy is out of mine. In general the conclusion of her stories is very unsatisfactory and unworthy of the beginning, she seems to arrive at the point that amuses her self and then the winding up is sketched in haste as if it were a great bore.
The works of Catherine Talbot, vol 8 vo consists of essays, reflections, tales and a little poetry. Her kind of religion pleases me exceedingly, it is that which not only inculcates it as a duty to be good and kind but to be cheerful, useful, and agreeable. That sort of religion which makes us tranquil cheerful and contented, which allows the enjoyment of life and insures against the disgusts and mortifications, it is rational and persuasive, it appears to have regulated all her actions and increased all her pleasures. In the essays there are several good things though in general they want force as is the case in general with all the publications of the women. Some of them I much admired, "On Politeness, Consistency, the Pleasures of Social Life." Her poetry is nothing, her tales &c next to nothing, the whole edited by a dull prosing man who by the ill judged praises inserted in his stupid notes would incline me to find fault. Were there any pretension in Miss Talbot to justify it.
"Don Sabastian" by Miss Anna Maria Porter, 4 volumes bt. Of this novel [futile?] need I say for it is one of that kind that never influences the heart, only strikes the imagination, plays there for a moment and vanishes forever, even this it does but feebly, the story is well conceived, but tediously executed and surely of all faults in a novel tediousness condemns it most completely.
Historie Chevaleresque des Manses es Grenade par Gines pese de Hita Iraduite par A.M. Lune 2 vol d 8t.
J'ai trouve cette hoie bein anusante ces sujets plaisant a mon imagination, je suis bien etonne a trouver que les femmes mauses jouessaient d'une liberte plus grande meme que plusiuers chretiennes la belle Grenade pisqu'a a jour fatal ou Bradillen massacre les alenurrages au cour di lions jouissart d'une succession continnelle des fetes destournois &c. peu de temp après ce jour fatal les factions ddetruisoient cette belle ville que jusqu'a a la moment avoit resiste aux efforts de tant des ennenus, les manses etaient divise on des tribus a peu pres a ce que me semble comme les clans Ecosais. On dit que ce hire etoit ecrite premis- par un mause, mais il me parrit si fervorable aux chretiens que je ne puis p a peine le croire.
'Wallace on the Battle of Falkirk" by Miss Holford 1 vol quartro. The latter end of this volume interested me very much with all the faults and even ridiculousness of a very young lady's composition I found passages that made me heart swell and brought tears to my eyes.
Opie's "Life and Lectures" 1 vol quartro. The life by Mrs Opie very affectedly written, the lectures very interesting, but between the reading them and the writing this I have nearly forgotten them all. They must be reread.
Paley's "Sermons" 1 vol 8t. After so long looking upon Paley as a cool headed sensible reasoner I could not but be surprised to find these sermons abounding with evangelical, not to say, Methodistical sentiments if I may judge of their general effect by what I myself witnessed and experienced, it must be a very bad one.
Memoirs de Mlle de Montpensier" 4 vols. Ces memoirs sont interresans le dedans de la evar et les sentimens des grands du'amuse beancoup. Cette femme a ete bien mal traite pendent toute sa vie qu'elle paissoit par une felle passion pour un homme ingrat qui termipoit toute sa glorie.
"Life of Barry" 2 vol 8 quarto. The life of the ill used Barry and some criticisms upon the buildings &c that he saw in Italy to which place he was sent by the Burkes. His passion for the antique and his superiority to all necessary views in painting to which he was guided by a passionate love of his art. He sacrificed fortune to a desire of raising the right style of British art from the picturesque to real classical, elegant and beauty. He made the sacrifice of his life and his works, the principal of which are now at the Adelphi in the rooms of the Society of Arts, seem much overlooked in the present day. Many letters from Edmund and William Burke are found in this book which do infinite credit to their hearts and would add another [bray?] to both glory of Burke but his sun is too bright to profit by the addition.
Duppa's "Life of Michael Angelo" 1 vol 4to. The great, the amiable, the virtuous Michael Angelo who rises as much as he must ever do in real noble design and drawing. What a regret must one every feel that ten years of the life of this noble sculptor were spent in heaving marble from a quarry and preparing a road to convey to the sea side by the orders of Leo tenth.
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