224

CHAP. IX. 1805.

Act of superstition.

Return to Bury.

moment; and on arriving at Bury, between twelve and one at night, I ran down to my brother's house to see whether by accident any one of the family was still up. As this was not the case, I went back to the Greyhound to sleep. In my walk I was uncomfortably impressed with the lowness and smallness of the Bury houses. And now I will confess to having indulged myself in a little act of superstition. I had not heard of my brother for some months; and as a charm against any calamity to him or his family, I enumerated all possible misfortunes, with the feeling which I have had through life, that all calamities come unexpectedly; and so I tried to ensure a happy meeting by thinking of "all the ills that flesh is heir to."

AFTER my long absence in Germany, it was a great pleasure to see my English friends; and for some weeks I spent most of my time with them. To those who lived in the country I paid visits.

*

bauld.

In December I formed a new acquaintance, of which I Mrs. Barwas reasonably proud, and in the recollection of which I still rejoice. At Hackney I saw repeatedly Miss Wakefield, a charming girl. And one day at a party, when Mrs. Barbauld had been the subject of conversation, and I had spoken of her in enthusiastic terms, Miss Wakefield came to me and said, "Would you like to know Mrs. Barbauld?" I exclaimed, "You might as well ask me whether I should like to know the angel Gabriel."—" Mrs. Barbauld is, however, much more accessible. I will introduce you to her nephew." She then called to Charles Aikin, whom she soon after married. And he said, "I dine every Sunday with my uncle and aunt at Stoke Newington, and I am expected always to bring a friend with me. Two knives and forks are laid for me. Will you go with me next Sunday?" Gladly acceding to the proposal, I had the good fortune to make myself agreeable, and soon became intimate in the house.

VOL. I.

The daughter of Gilbert Wakefield.

Q

226

bauld.

Mrs. Barbauld.

СНАР. Х. Mr. Barbauld had a slim figure, a weazen face, and a 1805-1806. shrill voice. He talked a great deal, and was fond of Mr. Bar- dwelling on controversial points in religion. He was by no means destitute of ability, though the afflictive disease was lurking in him, which in a few years broke out, and, as is well known, caused a sad termination to his life.

Mrs. Barbauld.

Mrs. Barbauld bore the remains of great personal beauty. She had a brilliant complexion, light hair, blue eyes, a small elegant figure, and her manners were very agreeable, with something of the generation then departing. She received me very kindly, spoke very civilly of my aunt Zachary Crabb, and said she had herself once slept at my father's house. Mrs. Barbauld is so well known by her prose writings that it is needless for me to attempt to characterize her here. Her excellence lay in the soundness and acuteness of her understanding, and in the perfection of her taste. In the estimation of Wordsworth she was the first of our literary women, and he was not bribed to this judgment by any especial congeniality of feeling, or by concurrence in speculative opinions. I may here relate an anecdote connecting Mrs. Bar- her and Wordsworth, though out of its proper time by many, many years; but it is so good that it ought to be preserved from oblivion. It was after her death that Lucy Aikin published Mrs. Barbauld's collected works, of which I gave a copy to Miss Wordsworth. Among the poems is a stanza on Life, written in extreme old age. It had delighted my sister, to whom I repeated it on her deathbed. It was long after I gave these works to Miss Wordsworth that her brother said, "Repeat me

Wordsworth and

bauld.

Literary Work.

227

that stanza by Mrs. Barbauld."

I did so. He made CHAP. X.

me repeat it again. And so he learned it by heart. 1805-1806.

He was at the time walking in his sitting-room at Rydal with his hands behind him; and I heard him mutter to himself, “I am not in the habit of grudging people their good things, but I wish I had written those lines."

"Life! we've been long together,

Through pleasant and through cloudy weather:

'Tis hard to part when friends are dear,

Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear :

Then steal away, give little warning,

Choose thine own time;

Say not good night, but in some brighter clime

Bid me good morning."

lier.

My friend Collier had taken up his residence in a 7. D. Colsmall house in Little Smith Street, to the west of the Westminster School. A bedroom was offered me, and here I was glad to take refuge while I was equally without a home, and without an employment. The most important of his engagements-important also to me eventually—was that of reporter to the Times, under the management of John Walter, then the junior.*

When the round of my acquaintance had been run through, I set about finding some literary occupation, for I found myself unable to live with comfort on my small income, though with my economical habits I needed only a small addition.

My first engagement was to translate a political work against Buonaparte, for which a bookseller named Tipper, of Fenchurch Street, gave me a guinea and a half per sheet. My friend King Fordham thought some diplomatic post abroad would be suitable to me, and

* The father of the recent M.P. for Berkshire.

1806. Engage

ment in translat

ing.

228

1806.

Plans of Work.

CHAP. X. exerted himself in my behalf. C. J. Fox wrote that he thought it probable he should soon have occasion for the services of a person of my description. I went so far as to offer myself to Mr. Fox, but nothing came of it. And it is well, for I am not conscious of possessing the kind of talent required for the position of a diplomatist. Another thought was that I might be engaged as travelling companion to some young man. And there was at one time some prospect of my going to America in this capacity. George Dyer suggested my name to a gentleman, whose sons or nephews were desirous of visiting the New World; and I had several interviews with the celebrated American mechanist Fulton, who invented the Catenarian and Torpedo, and offered to Buonaparte to destroy the whole English fleet by means of explosives. Dining with him one day, I spoke of the "Perpetual Peace" of Kant. Fulton said, "I believe in the 'Perpetual Peace;"" and on my expressing surprise, he added, "I have no doubt war will be put an end to by being rendered so murderous that by common consent it will be abandoned. I could myself make a machine by means of which I could in a few minutes destroy a hundred thousand men." After some time I was informed that the visit to America was postponed, and I heard no more of it.*

Fulton.

It was natural that, after having been away six years,

* At this time Mr. Robinson had in contemplation a work on Kant's Philosophy. Friends advised him not to translate any of Kant's works, but under some original form to introduce a considerable portion of translated matter. He accordingly proceeded so far as to fix on the following title: "Locke and Kant; or, a Review of the Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century as respects the Origin and Extent of Human Knowledge, by H. C. R." But the work was never completed.