Marquis de la Rivière[70] has with a degree of superabundant loyal zeal, vexed me. At dinner here he overheard me telling Calonne the story of the Cte. d’Artois asking Pitt why a man like Tierney was not shut up. He straight went and asked Monsieur if it was true; he, of course, said no, and contradicted it plump. This contradiction Rivière believes implicitly, and wrote me a formal denial of the charge. This provokes me, as I hate being made a party in a tracasserie, and still more hate having named any person. However, the thing is of no importance, because I certainly credit Tierney’s statement in preference to Monsieur’s asseveration to the contrary.
I was childish enough last night to go and see the new play; it was almost my first sortie from my couch, but I am not punished for the imprudence, as I have been perfectly well all day. I found Lewis in my box; he is the only person I give leave to enter at all times. He was just returned from Cambridge, where he had heard Ld. Henry Petty deliver a declamation, composed in the very best taste, full of feeling and ingenuity.
I have been reading Le Brun’s journey to Persepolis in 1704, the ruins of which (Persepolis) seem equal to anything of antiquity in point of solidity, size, and extent.
In future times when this little island shall have fallen into its natural insignificancy, by being no longer possessed of a fictitious power founded upon commerce, distant colonies, and other artificial sources of wealth, how puzzled will the curious antiquary be when seeking amidst the ruins of London vestiges of its past grandeur? Acres now covered by high, thin walls of brick, making streets tirés à cordon, divided into miserable, straitened, scanty houses, will, when decayed, crumble into a vast heap of brick-dust. No proud arch to survive the records of history, no aqueduct to prove how much the public was considered by ye Governt., no lofty temples, no public works! St. Paul’s anywhere would be a grand edifice; finer as a ruin than in its present state, disfigured with casements, whitewashed walls, pews, etc. The bridges alone would strike the eye as fine remains; they are magnificent. The reason of the meanness of everything throughout England proceeds from two causes. One is the scantiness of materials for great works, viz., stone and marble; second is, that commerce begets independence, from whence springs selfishness and the wish to enjoy what you acquire. Hence there is no ambition, no desire of perpetuating by great works fame to posterity.
THE HUMANITARIANS
Hobhouse,[71] who dined here last week for the first time, is a leading man among the Dissenters. He and Mr. Wm. Smith have written controversial books, and he has distinguished his own sect by the denomination of Humanitarians, not to be confounded with Unitarians. Priestley, in fact, is the founder of their doctrines, which doctrines they say are drawn from the New Testament in conformity with the primitive practice of Christianity. They assert that most points of faith in the Established Church proceed from the corruptions of Christianity. Christ they believe to have been the son of Joseph and Mary, but that he became inspired by a divine gift. They deny the Trinity, original sin, and the soul; their paradise is composed of material objects, not admitting the separation of soul and body. The Bible they hold to be an historical chronicle, Moses merely a legislator, the Prophets inspired darkly announcing Christ.
Sheridan by chance dined here on Friday, with a whole troop of Frenchmen. I was afraid he would be annoyed, as he does not speak French (which is the strangest thing imaginable for a man in his situation), but he, on the contrary, was pleased with his party. The company were ye Archevêque de Bordeaux, Calonne, Rivière, and Mr. Lattin. He was diverted at seeing the Archevêque laugh heartily at some sallies which might have shocked a bigot or a prude.
Crébillon Père, when upon his deathbed, sent for his son. ‘Ah! mon fils, est-ce donc bien vrai que vous soyez un de ces philosophes à la mode, qui veulent le bouleversement de la religion?’ He drew from behind his pillow a crucifix, and pointing to it, ‘Vous voulez donc détruire ce qu’il lui a tant coûté pour établir?’ This story Condorcet used to be very fond of telling.
Lady Ann Hatton speculates upon marrying Lord Abercorn. Lady Bessborough, who is all credulity, believes de bonne foi that this marriage will take place; even I, who am incredulous, have doubts in his favour, provided what I am told is true, such as, that Ld. A. has taken his daughters to visit their future mother. Beauclerk thinks Ly. Ann dreams, and imparts the vision to Lady B. for facts. Ld. Morpeth behaves admirably, but has wisely not given in a contre projet to the project upon the tapis. For a moment I thought the marriage story with Ld. A. was a scheme to obtain a real one from him, but nous verrons. Tho’ I do not particularly like Ly. Ann, I shall be glad to see her rescued from the humiliating state she is in; neglect, poverty, and discredit are horrid sufferances. If she closes her career with one of the greatest matches in the kingdom, I don’t know how young women will credit wise precepts of ‘virtue alone is rewarded,’ etc. She is 36, her appearance is so youthful that no one guesses her to be above 24, if so much. Her figure is light, airy, and graceful; Hare says she has a sort of vivacity that raises your expectations, but what she says is so flat that it damps curiosity.
Bonaparte allows of the return of the emigrants; I almost fear he extends that indulgence too far. Once restored to their possessions they will long for their titles, and a King will be the fountain of honour. The Duc de Liancourt has obtained all his estates which were not sold, and those of the Duc de la Rochefoucauld; this makes him among the number of the richest individuals in Europe.[72]