o bear in mind that I was a hard
student, and at severe studies for all the rest of my time; and certainly
I had a right occasionally to relaxations as well as other people. These,
however, I allowed myself but seldom.

The late Duke of --- used to say, "Next Friday, by the blessing of
heaven, I purpose to be drunk;" and in like manner I used to fix
beforehand how often within a given time, and when, I would commit a
debauch of opium. This was seldom more than once in three weeks, for at
that time I could not have ventured to call every day, as I did
afterwards, for "_a glass of laudanum negus, warm, and without sugar_."
No, as I have said, I seldom drank laudanum, at that time, more than once
in three weeks: This was usually on a Tuesday or a Saturday night; my
reason for which was this. In those days Grassini sang at the Opera, and
her voice was delightful to me beyond all that I had ever heard. I know
not what may be the state of the Opera-house now, having never been
within its walls for seven or eight years, but at that time it was by
much the most pleasant place of public resort in London for passing an
evening. Five shillings admitted one to the gallery, which was subject
to far less annoyance than the pit of the theatres; the orchestra was
distinguished by its sweet and melodious grandeur from all English
orchestras, the composition of which, I confess, is not acceptable to my
ear, from the predominance of the clamorous instruments and the absolute
tyranny of the violin. The choruses were divine to hear, and when
Grassini appeared in some interlude, as she often did, and poured forth
her passionate soul as Andromache at the tomb of Hector, &c., I question
whether any Turk, of all that ever entered the Paradise of Opium-eaters,
can have had half the pleasure I had. But, indeed, I honour the
barbarians too much by supposing them capable of any pleasures
approaching to the intellectual ones of an Englishman. For music is an
intellectual or a sensual pleasure according to the temperament of him
who hears it. And, by-the-bye, with the exception of the fine
extravaganza on that subject in "Twelfth Night," I do not recollect more
than one thing said adequately on the subject of music in all literature;
it is a passage in the _Religio Medici_ {14} of Sir T. Brown, and though
chiefly remarkable for its sublimity, has also a philosophic value,
inasmuch as it points to the true theory of musical effects. The mista