FOOTNOTES
[1] These words were in the first edition very needlessly changed everywhere into ‘your son.’ Lord Stanhope, in the supplementary volume of Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, has made provision for a corrected text in the future, and also for the restoration of many hitherto omitted passages, by the aid of the original copies of these letters, which I was able to place in his hands.—Ed.
[2] I know not what may have become of the pictures. The cup I have now in my possession.—Ed.
[3] Lord Chesterfield’s letter, of date April 27, 1745, quite bears out this account. Dr. Chenevix was supposed, though erroneously, to have written political pamphlets against the administration, which made the King personally hostile to his appointment.—Ed.
[4] See Lord Chesterfield’s letter of date Dec. 19, 1771.—Ed.
[5] At the battle of Blenheim. He had quitted France on the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, had entered the English service, and was major of the 2nd Carabineers at the time when he fell.—Ed.
[6] These exertions of the Bishop are several times alluded to in Lord Chesterfield’s letters to him. Thus, in one of date Nov. 21, 1769:—‘The Archbishop of Cashel tells me that by your indefatigable endeavours you have recovered near twenty thousand pounds for the several defrauded charities.’—Ed.
[7] This journal does not exist among the papers which came into my hands.—Ed.
[8] This was a name given among his friends to Edward Tighe, well known in Ireland for works of active beneficence, when they were not so common as they are now.—Ed.
[9] Baron Breteuil, born in 1733, was employed by Louis XV. in important diplomatic services, in Russia and elsewhere; and at a later day was Minister of Home Affairs. He opposed the calling together of the States-General, and headed for a moment a reactionary ministry after the brief retirement of Neckar. He left France in 1790, and after residing in Hamburg for some years, was allowed to return in 1802. He died at Paris, in 1807.—Ed.
[10] This passage, in inverted commas, is evidently an extract from a letter.—Ed.
[11] Count Münster is well known in England, having been for many years, during the connexion between Hanover and England, the minister for Hanoverian affairs at the Court of London.—Ed.
[12] I extract from some observations by my Mother on the Princess of Bayreuth’s Memoirs, a later portrait, from recollection, of the Dowager Duchess. ‘The Duchess of Brunswick was one of the most accomplished and brilliant women of her time. To a late period of life, beyond her eightieth year, she possessed an incomparable understanding, and the most amiable cheerfulness. Time had respected not only her faculties, but her exterior; and while it had worn her form to a sort of etherial transparency, had left her perfect symmetry, lively eyes, and an expressive delicate countenance. She appeared like a model of agreeable old age turned in ivory, and was said to be a softened resemblance of Frederic the Great, whose agrémens of appearance and manner have been so well described by Mirabeau.’—Ed.
[13] We now know pretty intimately the whole Court of Brunswick, as Lord Malmesbury found it on occasion of his mission to seek there a wife for the Prince of Wales, some five years before the above was written.—(See his Diaries and Correspondence, vol. iii.) I have been interested to observe the almost exact coincidence of his judgment in respect of all the persons who composed that Court with what is written here. It is true that, having actually to transact important business with the Duke, he saw the real weakness and vacillation of his character, as a woman with no such opportunities was not likely to do. But of the Duchess Dowager he writes, ‘Nothing can be so open, so frank, and so unreserved as her manner; nor so perfectly good-natured and unaffected’ (vol. iii. p. 155). In another place, ‘The Hereditary Prince and Princess vastly friendly; she a most admirable character, all sense and judgment; he little of either, but very harmless and good-natured’ (p. 188). The Princess Augusta, Abbess of Gandersheim, he describes as ‘clever in the Beatrix way’ (p. 159), ‘clever, artful, and rather coming’ (p. 165).—Ed.
[14] As Countess Lichtenau. The whole curious story is to be found in Vehse, Gesch. des Preuss. Hofs und Adel, part 5, p. 67 sqq.
[15] The Right Hon. Hugh Elliot, brother to the first Lord Minto. A few years later he proceeded to India as Governor of Madras, and died in London in the year 1822.—Ed.
[16] He and his two brothers, as is well known, strangled with their own hands Peter III., the husband of Catherine, and laid thus the foundations of their fortunes. But his name is branded with a crime of yet deeper dye, and of an almost incredible baseness. A young daughter of the Empress Elizabeth was living in extreme poverty and obscurity in Italy, whom Catherine, jealous of a possible pretender to the throne, desired to get within her power. Alexis Orloff found her out at Rome, married her, lured her away from her safe refuge in Italy, and delivered her to Catherine. She died in a Russian dungeon.—Ed.
[17] Born 1756, died 1823. The Conversations-Lexicon says, ‘Sein. Clavierspiel war glänzend; auch improvisirte er glücklich.’—Ed.
[18] This is certainly a mistake. Field-Marshal Bellegarde was a very distinguished officer, who, whether serving under the Archduke Charles, as at Aspern, or holding independent military commands, which he often did, always acquitted himself excellently well; but there are not, I believe, the slightest grounds for the suggestion in the text.—Ed.
[19] The Duchess of Giovine, though married to a Neapolitan nobleman, was a German by birth. In Goethe’s Italiänische Reise (June 2, 1787), there is an interesting record of an evening spent at Naples with her. He rates her quite as highly as she is rated in the text; and, remarkably enough, he too notes the evident desire which she showed ‘auf die Töchter der höehstens Standes zu wirken.’—Ed.
[20] Füger was born in 1751, and died at Vienna in 1818. German critics in art speak very highly of his genius, especially as manifested in the design and composition of his pictures. His illustrations of Klopstock’s Messiah, spoken of in the text, are always considered his greatest work.—Ed.
[21] I am entirely perplexed who this Vendean heroine is. I can find no mention of her in any histories of the time. Nor is this the only perplexity. Louis the Sixteenth was born in 1754. This lady of about forty could scarcely have claimed him for her father; not to say that the purity of his domestic life would of itself have condemned her boast. Perhaps we should read ‘Fifteenth’ for ‘Sixteenth;’ but even then I cannot explain the entire silence of history about her. She may possibly have been an impostress, trading on the royalist sympathies of Germany.—Ed.
[22] Graff, born in 1736, is said to have left behind him at his death, in 1813, more than eleven hundred portraits. His pictures are still held in high esteem, but more those of men than of women.—Ed.
[23] Dinarbas, a Continuation of Rasselas, 1790.—Ed.
[24] Marcus Flaminius; or, Life of the Romans, 1795.—Ed.
[25] See Miss Cornelia Knight’s Autobiography, vol. i. p. 152, where one of these songs, beginning,
‘Britannia’s leader gives the dread command,’
is given.—Ed.
[26] Miss Cornelia Knight (Autobiography, vol. i. p. 148) gives testimony here to the perfect accuracy with which these little details are set down. ‘Before landing at Leghorn the Queen presented Lord Nelson with a medallion, on one side of which was a fine miniature of the King, and on the other her own cipher, round which ran a wreath of laurel, and two anchors were represented supporting the crown of the Two Sicilies. This device was executed in large diamonds.’—Ed.
[27] This account of Lady Hamilton has been considered by some readers to depreciate even her external advantages. It may be worth while to observe that Goethe’s judgment of her singing some fourteen years earlier (Italiänische Reise, May 27, 1787) quite agrees with that of the text: ‘Darf ich mir eine Bemerkung erlauben, die freilich ein wohlbehandelter Gast nicht wagen sollte, so muss ich gestehen dass mir unsere schöne Unterhaltende doch eigentlich als ein geistloses Wesen vorkommt, die wohl mit ihrer Gestalt bezahlen, aber durch keinen seelenvollen Ausdruck der Stimme, der Sprache sich geltend machen kann. Schon ihr Gesang ist nicht von zusagender Fülle.’—Ed.
[28] Mr. Elliot must have been a little too easily satisfied with his information; which under the circumstances is not very much to be wondered at. When Lord Nelson reached Hamburg there was no frigate waiting for him there, and he had to wait, I think, several days before one arrived.—Ed.
[29] It is sometimes curious and instructive to contrast the records of the same events. Here is the stately historical record of the sojourn at Dresden, as given in Pettigrew’s very serviceable Memoirs of Lord Nelson, vol. i. p. 388:—‘In two days he reached Dresden, where Mr. Elliot was British Minister. Prince Xavier, the brother of the Elector of Saxony, here visited Nelson. The celebrated Dresden Gallery was thrown open for his inspection and his friends’, and they remained eight days in the city, admiring its worthy beauties and receiving entertainments at the Court, and when they took their departure, gondolas magnificently fitted up were in readiness to convey them to Hamburg.’—Ed.
[30] There are various scandalous memoirs, both in French and German, of Prince Henry’s life at Rheinsberg, which I know only by name; one, printed at Paris, ascribed, but falsely, to Mirabeau. On a visit to Paris, in 1784, he was present at a sitting of the French Academy, and was hailed there by Marmontel as ‘la Vertu couronnée de gloire.’—Ed.
[31] Beurnonville, born in 1752, distinguished himself at Valmy and Gemappes. Being sent by the Convention to arrest Dumouriez, he, with the four Commissioners who accompanied him, was by him arrested and delivered to the Austrians. Recovering his liberty by an exchange, he was, in 1800, sent as Minister or Ambassador to Berlin. Having taken service with the Bourbons at the first Restoration, he adhered to them during the Hundred Days, and for this fidelity was largely rewarded. He died in 1817, a Marquis and a Marshal of France.
[32] Gentz’s able political writings in the early part of this century, and his discreditable connexion with Fanny Elssler in his old age, have made him too well known to need any notice here.—Ed.
[33] Antony, Count Rivarol, was born in 1753, and made literature his profession. His discourse On the Causes of the Universality of the French Language was crowned by the Berlin Academy in 1784, and still keeps its place as a valuable contribution to the history of the French language. He fled from the Revolution, first to Hamburg and then to Berlin, where he died rather suddenly in 1801, aged 47. A sketch of his life and character, by M. Berville, prefixed to his Mémoires, Paris, 1824, exactly bears out this account of him.—Ed.
[34] Mary Leadbeater, a member of the Society of Friends, resided at Ballitore, a village in the county of Kildare, in great part a colony of Friends; and like so many other spots in Ireland where they dwelt in large numbers, a centre of order and civilization to all the county round. Zealous in all good works, and the mistress of a graceful and ready pen, she exerted herself to the best interest of the Irish people. Her Cottage Dialogues, the most useful and popular of her works, still maintain their place. She died in 1826, aged sixty-eight.—Ed.
[35] Annals of Ballitore, referred to already, p. 132.—Ed.
[36] Among a few memoranda made by my father during his detention in France, I have found one of a somewhat later date, expressing exactly the same conviction of the effects which the Revolution had exercised on the moral character of the people. ‘We have observed continually amongst the middle and lower orders of the French, that those who have been educated since the Revolution have a degree of illiberality in all their transactions, accompanied with an insatiable desire of present gain, even at the expense of permanent advantage, and a want of urbanity in their manners, which are by no means to be found in those of a generation before. We have often seen the mother rebuked, at least in looks, when by a direct and honest answer she has cut short the hesitating, over-reaching prevarication of the daughter. I might make a similar observation on the difference between men and women; and I have so often smarted in addressing myself to youth and the female sex in their magasins, that I now, when I wish to avoid being cheated, apply to the men in preference to the women, and even to the old in preference to the young. “La jeunesse veut gagner,” or in other words, “tromper” seems to be their motto.’—Ed.
[37] Born, 1756; died, 1815. There is a full and carefully-written account of her in the Biographie Universelle.—Ed.
[38] This, no doubt, is Captain Wright, whose mysterious death in the Temple has never been cleared up.—Ed.
[39] Delille was born in 1738. He must have been, therefore, nearly sixty-six at this time.—Ed.
[40] I have found the passage in his poem, L’Imagination, chant 5. Not to be compared with Goethe’s portraiture of Ariosto in his Torquato Tasso, it yet possesses a merit of its own, such as is ascribed to it here.—Ed.
[41] At this time only some wretchedly edited fragments of St. Simon’s great work had seen the light,—three volumes in 1788, and four somewhat later. It was not till 1829 that these memoirs were published with anything approaching to completeness.—Ed.
[42] Isabey, born in 1770, a pupil of David’s, stands, and I believe deservedly, in the first rank of miniature painters. He lived in familiar intercourse with Napoleon; and some of the best portraits of the Emperor existing are by his hand.—Ed.
[43] His barber it should be.—Ed.
[44] These must be, no doubt, Mrs. Grant of Laggan’s Letters from the Mountains.—Ed.
[45] The only book of this name which I know is The Microcosm, by Gregory Griffin, Windsor, 1788, a collection of slight essays, very pale imitations of The Spectator.—Ed.
[46] This letter was returned to the writer, with the seal unbroken. Mad. de la Gardie died before it reached her.—Ed.
[47] John Woolman was a Quaker, who wrote Serious Considerations on Various Subjects of Importance, London, 1773, with other works. He did good service in his time in helping to awake the sleeping conscience of England to the iniquity of the slave trade and of slavery.—Ed.
[48] Alluding to the sentiments of the wise and venerable Lady Hutchinson.
[49] History of the Reign of James II., by the Right Honᵇˡᵉ C. J. Fox. London. 1808.—Ed.
[50] A mistake; these letters were by the late Edward Sterling, Esq.—Ed.
[51] See p. 103.
[52] Mr. Lefanu was for many years the editor of The Farmer’s Journal, and in various ways actively engaged in promoting the moral and material prosperity of Ireland.—Ed.
[53] The statement above is not perfectly accurate. Miss Seward bequeathed her Poems to Sir Walter Scott, who published them, with only a few of her earlier letters, in 1810. The twelve volumes of her Letters she left to Constable, and it was he who reduced these to six, which he published in 1811.—Ed.
[54] The two or three concluding words of this letter are lost.
[55] This same image reappears in a poem, too long to quote.
‘Yes, in the boundless hopes of dawning love
A foretaste of eternal bliss we prove;
Like him whose steps have gained an Alpine height;
The lower world has faded from his sight.
In gay confusion a bright veil of clouds
Her towers, her temples, and her pomp enshrouds.
He still advances to the illumined skies,
And feels new hope, a new existence rise;
Sublimely placed on his aërial throne,
All earth beneath, above him heaven alone.’
[56] Hesiod; or, The Rise of Woman, is properly the name of this poem.—Ed.
‘Verschmerzen werd’ ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich;
Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch!’—Ed.
[58] I quote concerning Mr. Marsh the following extract from Earl Stanhope’s Historical Essays, 1849, p. 242; and have permission to state that Sir Robert Peel was ‘the living statesman’ who made the observation, and who instanced Mr. Marsh in proof.—‘We have heard a most eminent living statesman observe how very erroneous an idea as to the comparative estimation of our public characters would be formed by a foreigner, who was unacquainted with our history, and who judged only from Hansard’s Debates. Who, for instance, now remembers the name of Mr. Charles Marsh? Yet one of the most pointed and vigorous philippics which we have read in any language stands in the name of Mr. Marsh, under the date of the 1st of July, 1813.’—Ed.
[59] A pocket-book for 1819, in the title-page of which these words are written.—Ed.
[60] The lines referred to are those beginning—
‘But man is born to suffer.’
In proof that not a word is said here more than was absolutely felt, I may quote a few sentences, apparently unfinished, and not meant I suppose for any eye, in which, three or four years later, the writer seeks to account for the somewhat cold reception a poem of such grace and beauty found. ‘Mr. Rogers’ little bark of Human Life, made for blue skies and light breezes, was launched in the moment most unfavourable for its prosperous voyage. The world was in a high state of effervescence, moral, physical, literary, political, and social. We were drinking deep of that intoxicating cup held out by Childe Harold, which at that time still sparkled to the brim. We had seen stars just rise above the horizon, awakening all the hope attendant on novelty, which have since disappeared. We were dazzled by the splendour of the Northern Lights, and we had not tasted the sedative waters of St. Ronan’s Well. The political world was full of commotion, and fear and hope have since subsided into certainty, which then perplexed not monarchs alone, but all who thought and felt. We were all craving for excitement, and the demand was indeed plentifully supplied. At that moment Mr. Rogers had the courage to produce a poem founded on the best and kindliest feelings of human nature—those feelings depicted with a truth and delicacy which can only be fully appreciated when there exists something corresponding to it in the mind of the reader.’—Ed.
[61] This journal is one of the many which have never reached my hands.—Ed.
[62] Marks indicate that a page had here been pinned into the journal; this, which no doubt contained the conclusion of this lecture, has dropt out and been lost.—Ed.
[63] The Monody referred to was on the death of Grattan. The lady to whom this letter is addressed was a relation of his.—Ed.
[64] Fleury de Chaboulon, Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire de la Vie privée, du retour, et du règne de Napoléon en 1815. London. 1819, 1820.—Ed.
[65] Letters of Mrs. Delany to Mrs. Frances Hamilton. London. 1821.—Ed.
[66] Memoirs from 1754-1758. London. 1821.—Ed.
[67] This lady, wife of the Baron de Stierneld, Swedish Minister at the Court of London, was the daughter of Mad. Angeström, mentioned more than once in this volume, see pp. 118, 124. She died before the end of this year, see pp. 496, 497.—Ed.
[68] Dr. Gregory was a physician at Edinburgh. He wrote A Father’s Legacy to his Daughters. Edinburgh, 1788.—Ed.