8th.—Began to consider my new comedy, which I am very desirous of enriching with numerous incidents.
9th.—Debrett blames Robinson for publishing another translation of the voyage of Perouse; that already published by Johnson, being complete, the size octavo. R.’s edition is to be quarto, the plates in a grander style. Debrett’s phrase was, he would burn his fingers. Meditated on the comedy. Conceived two incidents arising from the poverty of my characters, of a pawnbroker’s shop, and an antique ring. Dined with Geiseveiller, and G——. His German friends came after dinner. F—— displayed some knowledge in Grammar; but was laughed at by me and G——, for being a disciple of Kant.
10th.—Rose at seven, in good spirits, and apparently excellent health; persuaded, as I had been for some time, that my disease was gone, and my constitution improved. While eating my breakfast, soon after eight, was seized with a fifth fit of hemorrhoidal colic. The pain as on former occasions excruciating, yet resisted with so much determination by me, that I am persuaded its violence was considerably abated. I continued very ill through the day. In the night my dreams were extremely vivid, often disagreeable, but not always. I read and composed poetry, that never had any other existence; engaged in metaphysical disputes; and busied myself with the plot of a comic opera. I conceived a nobleman and his servant, Spaniards, to have arrived at a castle with immense walls and turrets; and that the first thing the nobleman said, must be to tell his servant, that they were now come to the place of action, and must make their way into that castle. The various obstacles and incidents which this would afford, delighted me, while dreaming. A few years ago, having a slight fever, and lying awake in the night, I found I could speak extempore verses on any given subject, (for I proposed two or three to myself) many of them approaching excellence, and the others full of high sounding words, and such as would be thought excellent by some. Fear of increasing the fever, made me rather endeavour to calm and appease my mind, than either to proceed, or try to remember those I had made, which might amount to above thirty lines in number, as I believe. Have found nearly the same facility occasionally, when actually writing poetry, after having considered my subject a certain time, and made a certain number of verses, or rather, after rouzing the faculties. In my sleep I have read many a page of poetry, that never was written. Others have told me they have done the same. Mr N—— says he has several times gone to bed with his mind wearied by considering a question of science which he could not resolve, has slept or dozed, and the resolution has intruded so forcibly upon his thoughts, that it has awaked him.
11th.—Sent for Dr. Pitcairne. After he was gone, the pain rather increased till I rose, half an hour after, when I experienced some relief. Was induced to examine the nature of pain, and found that it is not, and from the nature of the human frame, cannot be, incessant. Could it be so, it must soon destroy the patient. Sensations are impelled upon us. Trifles, the tickling of a hair, the trains of ideas which pain itself begets, divert the attention. These intervals appear to be short in proportion to the intensity of the pain. Played a game at chess, with Geiseveiller: at the beginning with great brilliancy; at the end, with great stupidity. Received a well written letter from Mrs. B——, and the opera from Harris.
12th.—Harris firmly of opinion the opera will be a good afterpiece, but a dangerous first-piece, I obliged to yield, the slave of my circumstances. He agreed to give me two hundred and fifty pounds for the piece, and the copy-right; and, should it run twenty nights, to make the sum three hundred. Urged me to proceed with my comedy, which I promised, if possible, to send at the close of November. Underwood, a young artist, called to see my pictures. He was full of admiration, but he is a youth. Godwin called to enquire after my health, and Mrs. Foulkes.
13th.—Pitcairne called, behaved very kindly, and refused his fee. I could not visit Mr G——, who had invited me. The Parrys, Colonel B——, Mrs. F——, and Geiseveiller called. Yesterday and to-day, amidst the pain, I reduced the opera, but not completely.
14th.—Mrs. F—— called: and Geiseveiller before and after seeing the Road to Ruin for the first time at the Haymarket. This perhaps is the only theatre in the three kingdoms, Drury-Lane and the Opera-House excepted, at which it has not been acted more probably fifty times than once. The custom of the theatres prevents its being performed in London, except at Covent-Garden, where it first appeared.
15th.—Wrote to Harris and Robinson. Went to Mrs. B——, who requested my advice and aid, concerning a novel. A lively woman, upwards of sixty; widow of Dr. B——. From a printer’s mark in the margin, there is reason to suspect her novel has been clandestinely printed. If not, it certainly was in preparation for the press. Completed the reduction of the opera; and proceeded, as the day before, with reading Middleton’s Cicero, and correcting P——’s tragedy.
16th.—Visited by Dr. Pitcairne, to whom I had sent. Received his fee, is to call on Saturday. Smith, the surgeon, Mrs. F——, Samuel S——, visitors. Read Wild Oats, (having this day received O’Keefe’s works) a farce, but one in which much invention and feeling are displayed. Wrote an air to Dan Cupid, in Old Clothesman.
17th.—Went to Debrett’s, after taking the warm sea-bath. Col. B—— and others praised the Cheltenham waters, as excellent for bilious affections. Walked home, not in the least fatigued.