may

• Midnight.

I have been reading Grimm's Correspondence. He repeats frequently, in speaking of a poet, or a 'man of genius in any department, even in music (Gretry, for instance), that he must have "une ame qui se tourmente, un esprit violent." How far this be true, I know not; but if it were, I should be a poet "per eccellenza;" for I have always had "une ame," which not only tormented itself but every body else in contact with it; and an "esprit 'violent," which has almost left me without any esprit" at all. As to defining what a poet should 'be, it is not worth while, for what are they worth? 'what have they done?

'Grimm, however, is an excellent critic and literary 'historian. His Correspondence form the annals of 'the literary part of that age of France, with much of 'her politics, and, still more, of her "way of life." 'He is as valuable, and far more entertaining than 'Muratori or Tiraboschi-I had almost said, than 'Ginguené-but there we should pause. However, ''tis a great man in its line.

'Monsieur St. Lambert has

'Et lorsqu'à ses regards la lumière est ravie,
Il n'a plus, en mourant, à perdre que la vie.'

This is, word for word, Thomson's

'And dying, all we can resign is breath,'

' without the smallest acknowledgment from the Lorrainer of a poet. M. St. Lambert is dead as a man, and (for anything I know to the contrary) damned, as a poet, by this time. However, his Seasons have good things, and, it may be, some of his own.

'February 2d, 1821.

'I have been considering what can be the reason

why I always wake, at a certain hour in the morning, and always in very bad spirits-I may say, in 'actual despair and despondency, in all respects' even of that which pleased me over night. In ' about an hour or two, this goes off, and I compose ' either to sleep again, or, at least, to quiet. In Eng'land, five years ago, I had the same kind of hypo'chondria, but accompanied with so violent a thirst 'that I have drank as many as fifteen bottles of soda'water in one night, after going to bed, and been still thirsty calculating, however, some lost from the 'bursting out and effervescence and overflowing of the soda-water, in drawing the corks, or striking off the necks of the bottles from mere thirsty impatience. 'At present, I have not the thirst; but the depression ' of spirits is no less violent.

I read in Edgeworth's Memoirs of something 'similar (except that his thirst expended itself on 'small beer) in the case of Sir F. B. Delaval;—but 'then he was, at least, twenty years older. What is it?-liver? In England, Le Man (the apothecary) 'cured me of the thirst in three days, and it had lasted as many years. I suppose that it is all hypo

'chondria.

'What I feel most growing upon me are laziness, ' and a disrelish more powerful than indifference. If I rouse, it is into fury. I presume that I shall end (if not earlier by accident, or some such termination) "like Swift-" dying at top." I confess I do not con' template this with so much horror as he apparently 'did for some years before it happened. But Swift had hardly begun life at the very period (thirty'three) when I feel quite an old sort of feel.

'Oh! there is an organ playing in the street-a

waltz, too! I must leave off to listen. They are playing a waltz which I have heard ten thousand times at the balls in London, between 1812 and 1815. Music is a strange thing*.

'February 5th, 1821. At last, "the kiln's in a low." The Germans are ' ordered to march, and Italy is, for the ten thousandth 'time, to become a field of battle. Last night the

'news came.

This afternoon-Count P. G. came to me to con'sult upon divers matters. We rode out together. They have sent off to the C. for orders. To-morrow 'the decision ought to arrive, and then something ' will be done. Returned-dined-read-went out'talked over matters. Made a purchase of some arms ⚫ for the new inrolled Americani, who are all on tiptoe to march. Gave orders for some harness and 'manteaus necessary for the horses.

port

'Read some of Bowles's dispute about Pope, with all the replies and rejoinders. Perceive that my 'name has been lugged into the controversy, but ' have not time to state what I know of the subject. "On some "piping day of peace" it is probable that I may resume it.

Before dinner wrote a little; also, before I rode ' out, Count P. G. called upon me, to let me know 'the result of the meeting of the C'. at F. and at B. ** returned late last night. Everything was com'bined under the idea that the Barbarians would pass

In this little incident of the music in the streets thus touching so suddenly upon the nerve of memory, and calling away his mind from its dark bodings to a recollection of years and scenes the happiest, perhaps, of his whole life, there is something that appears to me peculiarly affecting.

the Po on the 15th inst. Instead of this, from some previous information or otherwise, they have hastened their march and actually passed two days ago; so that all that can be done at present in Romagna is, 'to stand on the alert and wait for the advance of the Neapolitans. Every thing was ready, and the Neapolitans had sent on their own instructions and intentions, all calculated for the tenth and eleventh, on 'which days a general rising was to take place, under 'the supposition that the Barbarians could not advance before the 15th.

As it is, they have but fifty or sixty thousand troops, a number with which they might as well 'attempt to conquer the world as secure Italy in its present state. The artillery marches last, and alone, and there is an idea of an attempt to cut part of 'them off. All this will much depend upon the first 'steps of the Neapolitans. Here, the public spirit is excellent, provided it be kept up. This will be seen by the event.

It is probable that Italy will be delivered from the 'Barbarians if the Neapolitans will but stand firm, ' and are united among themselves. Here they ap· pear so.

Day passed as usual-nothing new. Barbarians 'still in march-not well equipped, and, of course, 'not well received on their route. There is some talk ' of a commotion at Paris.

Rode out between four and six-finished my letter 'to Murray on Bowles's pamphlets-added postscript. 'Passed the evening as usual-out till eleven-and subsequently at home.

'Wrote had a copy taken of an extract from PeWrote—had 'trarch's Letters, with reference to the conspiracy of 'the Doge, M. Faliero, containing the Poet's opinion of the matter. Heard a heavy firing of cannon towards Comacchio-the Barbarians rejoicing for 'their principal pig's birthday, which is to-morrow'or Saint day-I forget which. Received a ticket for 'the first ball to-morrow. Shall not go to the first, 'but intend going to the second, as also to the 'Veglioni.

'February 13th, 1821.

To-day read a little in Louis B's. Hollande, but have written nothing since the completion of the 'letter on the Pope controversy. Politics are quite 'misty for the present. The Barbarians still upon 'their march. It is not easy to divine what the 'Italians will now do.

'Was elected yesterday "Socio" of the Carnival 'ball society. This is the fifth carnival that I have 'passed. In the four former, I racketed a good deal. In the present, I have been as sober as Lady Grace ' herself.

February 14th, 1821. Much as usual. Wrote, before riding out, part of 'a scene of "Sardanapalus." The first act nearly 'finished. The rest of the day and evening as before '-partly without, in conversazione-partly at home.

'Heard the particulars of the late fray at Russi, a 'town not far from this. It is exactly the fact of 'Romeo and Giulietta-not Romeo, as the Barbarian 'writes it. Two families of Contadini (peasants) are ' at feud. At a ball, the younger part of the families

VOL. III.

K