Bursledon Lodge, Dec. 20, 1813.
What meanness of mind it shows to fasten upon the plain person of a woman of genius, the imprudence of a wit, or the dulness of a beauty. I am very much displeased with the constant remarks on Mad. de Staël’s exterior. However, it consoles many for the thought that she will be admired when we are all forgotten. As to Canning’s conversation giving her more emotion than pleasure, it is easiest to be understood by supposing her to like him in some nuance of loverly feeling. In this light there is great honesty in the confession. All eloquence creates emotion, but that emotion is pleasure; while the emotion created by the conversation of a lover may be of every shade from Stygian darkness to the most dazzling brilliancy. I am surprised that Mad. de Staël, herself the wife of a diplomat, and having lived in good company at Paris, should have questioned the Regent. As you say, it is a breach of royal prerogative. But I think royalty itself readily forgives failures in etiquette, though its satellites are most indignant on the occasion. When poor Mel walked out before all the princesses of the German Empire, it almost threw some of the vieux routiers into convulsions; but the persons concerned looked on it as it was, a pardonable forgetfulness, and distinguished her just as kindly after as before.
I passed a pleasant day at Mrs. ——’s. We were nearly a female party; and the only blot on the conversation was the little, mean, detracting gossip against Lady —— (who has taken Mr. Baring’s for the honeymoon) and Mrs. ——, a ci-devant London belle come to settle for a time at Southampton. They do not forgive the former for having a ducal coronet in prospect, nor the latter her fading advantages of person and manner, and her grown-up daughters, fine girls whom she has brought to the overstocked balls at Southampton. Lady R—— is ‘very sorry for Miss B——,’ and says so as if she could Roast her. She cannot yet bring herself to call her Lady ——. It appears they were intimates at Bath.
TO MRS. LEADBEATER.
Bursledon Lodge, Dec. 23, 1813.
I am a little angry with the lady who might have introduced me to your friends at Bath; but do you know I am the less surprised in proportion to the years I have passed in the world; for generally speaking, people have a strange dislike to introducing their friends to each other. This is very common, and, according to Hannah More, ‘much too common to be right.’ I suspect it proceeds from the consciousness of endeavouring to be, not in the best sense of the words, ‘all things to all men,’ of acting somewhat a part, and of appearing to different friends rather what the actor thinks will please, than what he really is.... All this is pitiful: how different is my dear Mrs. Leadbeater, who is uneasy till all her friends know and like each other. What a gem is simplicity of character, and how careful in educating ought we to be to weed out all finesse and management. I know children so educated will often fail in politeness, till their knowledge of what gives pain or pleasure becomes extensive; but their sincerity is often amusing, even when at the expense of civility. ‘——, my dear, pray read to yourself.’ ‘Yes, mamma, and I wish you would sing to yourself.’ There are many whom I hear, to whom I should make use of this phrase, if I were not restrained by feelings he cannot understand.
The following poems certainly do not belong to the later period of the writer’s life, and I therefore insert them here.
How quickly life forgets the dead!