On Sunday C. breakfasted with me, and we went to Bedford Chapel to hear S. Smith preach; Mrs. H. C. saw us in the aisle, and took us into her pew. We had an excellent sermon, but, entre nous, I saw C. nearly asleep several times. She said she liked the sermon exceedingly, but I am sure she did not hear some fine parts. (There’s Ella Roberts taking off a little dog howling or barking, so like nature that I have been calling her a little howling puppy; the noise a dog makes when his toe is trodden upon is most admirable. * * * * She has now exhausted herself so much with the fatigues of her canine madness, as she calls it, that she is quiet, and I stand a chance of finishing my letter in peace.)
My levée on Sunday was rather splendid, consisting of twenty-seven persons, who (men excepted) chiefly came in carriages. These carriages succeeded each other so quickly, that the servants asked my servant what was to be seen at No. 11; and when he said “a lady,” they answered, “what, is she ill?” My cousin came first, and told me his brother had been in town, and had often talked of visiting me, and when he returns I am to see him.
The next day I took a coach, and came to Mitcham! a sad arrival! But, as you may suppose, the freshness of grief was all mine, and it became my duty to conquer the expression of it as soon as possible; but I am only now in my usual spirits. * * * We are very comfortable together; there is too, here, the nicest set of children; we had them all in last night, and we played at magical music, and I made myself hoarse with singing through a comb.
Upon my word I shall be very savage if I don’t hear from you, and of the romans, alias romances or novels, in Pottergate Street and St. Helen’s. * * * Of all things in the world, truth and ingenuousness, the foundation of all virtue, are the rarest. Farewell! till Saturday.
A. Opie.
Tuesday, 31st of May, 1814.
I begin my letter to-day, my dear father, as I shall probably be hurried to-morrow. * * * On Sunday Tom went with me to hear S. Smith at Baker Street chapel; and luckily a friend of Tom’s, hearing him say I was coming, secured a place for me with a friend of his. This gentleman went home with us, and I was amused by his account of Spurzheim, the lecturer on Craniology, whom I am going to meet at Dr. Busk’s. * * * * I had a very pleasant morning, for my court, as L. M. calls it, was full and agreeable. Rollis, Busks, Mr. Blair, Hamiltons, a new acquaintance they brought, a Mr. Bainbridge, Mr. Kingston, Mrs. C. Hanbury and her daughter, &c. At dinner I met Lady Cork, Professor Spurzheim, Tenant, Dr. Rogier, or Roget, (I forget which it is) and a young surgeon who is craniology mad. Tenant talked all dinner, and in no way was the philosopher called out. I thought this very rude and English, and so did Lady Cork; therefore when the gentlemen joined us, she seated herself by Mr. Spurzheim, and began to talk to him of his art. I joined them; and he was explaining to me his ideas of the brain, when my ideas were distracted, and my brain rendered woolgathering, by the arrival, not of a very large importation of clever men and women, but of Dr. Brown, the Dr. Brown, professor and lecturer on moral philosophy, the successor of Dugald Stuart, the Edinburgh Reviewer, and the recondite reviewer of Mrs. Opie, in the first number of that celebrated work. He came with the L. M.s, and was soon presented to me. I recollected L. M.’s character of him, that he liked faire le galant, vis-à-vis des dames, better than to converse in society, therefore I expected what I found, a flattering Scotchman, and I could have broken my silly head, because I felt fluttered while talking to him; however, I recovered myself at last, and, as I told Mr. Blair I would do, I contrived to be civil in my turn, though he (Mr. Blair) assured me he thought the philosopher quite conceited enough already. I must leave off, I am grie * * * Wednesday, 1st June. Grieved for Henry Burrell I meant to say, but if I had, I should have mourned foolishly, he being yesterday alive and better: this is to me incomprehensible, unless, which I hope cannot be the case, W. Burrell himself is ill. * *
To resume my Journal. I did contrive to say civil things to Dr. Brown; but the wonder of the crowd, and the persons who sucked us all in turn into their vortex, were Professor Spurzheim and Lady M. Shepherd. Her ladyship fairly threw down the gauntlet, and was as luminous, as deep, as clever in her observations and questions, and her display of previous knowledge of Gall’s theory and Hartley’s, as any professor could have been, and convinced me, at least, that when Mr. Tierney said, of Lady Mary, she was almost the best metaphysician he ever knew, and the most logical woman, by far, he ever met with, he was probably right. The professor looked alarmed, and put on his pins; and Lady Mary began her dialogue at ten, and it was not over at a little past twelve.
Dr. Brown listened occasionally, and with an anatomizing eye, for he does not like literary women; therefore a woman, entering his own arena, must have called forth all his reviewer bitterness. L. M. had assured Dr. B. our parties were mixed ones, and nothing like science or learning displayed; and on his first introduction he meets with a scene like this!
On the 11th I dine at L. M.’s to meet Dr. Brown and Lord Erskine, &c. When S. Smith breakfasts with me I mean to ask Dr. B. also. Farewell! I must conclude.