clothe the hungry and feed the naked-(she begged my pardon, she meant clothe the naked and feed the hungry)-could do justice to her virtues. Nothing so unselfish, nothing so amiable as Mrs. Herbert!"

Must I not have had a heart of adamant to resist this wellmerited eulogy of my dear sister? I began to discover that, if not an elegant, Lady Farrington was a warm-hearted, sensible woman. What mattered her over-fine gown and tawdry bonnet, since she knew how to render justice to Armine! But a falling off soon followed.

"She had so long wished to make my acquaintance! Mrs. Herbert had talked me over with her so often; she seemed to know me as well, and to be as au fait of my affairs, as if we had been friends from childhood. She knew, in fact, more of me than I could suppose." And, in uttering the hint, she assumed a significant smile, which, were 1 less acquainted with my sister's delicacy, would have led me to suppose that Armine had really been betraying my confidences to a stranger!

But Lady Farrington soon disclosed herself. Perceiving how favourable an impression she had made by her thapsodies concerning "dear Mrs. Herbert," she proceeded to panegyrize the husband with equal fervour. "She did not know what they should do in Bedfordshire without dear Mr. Herbert: Mr. Herbert was such a good neighbour, such an agreeable companion, such an active magistrate, such a sensible man;-such an excellent husband, such a kind father, such a valuable friend, such an indulgent landlord, such a liberal patron. Mr. Herbert had done wonders in improving the breed of cattle in his parish, and the roads in his district. But, above all, which was a great comfort to herself and Sir John, Mr. Herbert was of the right side in politics."

I longed to inquire the whereabout of the right side of a circle; but was apprehensive of doing or saying any thing to prolong her visit. I had really no patience to hear my cross, arbitrary brother-in-law so overlauded. Luckily, she came prepared to eulogize all and sundry unto myself appertaining; and, having now praised my sister, her husband, and children, my house, my furniture, and even Azim, who was dozing on the rug, she considered my very neighbours entitled to their share of commendation.

"She had the pleasure of knowing the Gresham Ronshams; -charming family,-so agreeable, so accomplished, so much people of the world! Daughters pretty,-sons handsome, parents highly intellectual. She had heard a great deal of me from the Gresham Ronshams."

I assured her, as civilly as I could, that I had not the honour of their acquaintance.

"No! she was aware of that. But they heard me singing, through the wall, and heard my little dog bark, and often fancied they could even distinguish my voice. Then they saw

me go out in the carriage (they were quite in love with my carriage!) and come home on horseback (the girls thought my mare the handsomest in London). In short, they were extremely interested in all my pursuits!"

1 had no time to retort upon my neighbours; for, just then, Mr. Penrhyn made his appearance; and I have no doubt Lady Farrington has by this time called upon the Herberts, to ascertain the name of the tall, dark gentleman, so very intimate with dear Mrs. Delaval, that even her lapdog jumps on his knees without invitation!

To-day, I have determined to dine and pass the evening at home, alone; for to-morrow I must be dressed by eleven o'clock, to be ready for Epsom; then return to dinner at Lady Clackmannan's; and at night, two balls I-What a laborious day of pleasure!

Ten o'clock-Heigho! only four hours alone, and obliged to take to my journal for society! Intending to read away the evening, I fancied Ebers had amply provided me with the de quoi; but how few new books will bear being read in the midst of the excitements of the season! If grave, that which passed last night in the House, and was discussed this morning in the Times, is ten times more important;-if light, all that I heard on Wednesday at Almack's, all that I saw this morning in the Park, ten times more amusing.

Since I came to town, several women have been shown me in society as the femmes auteurs of the day; and, with Edgeworth and Burney, De Stael, De Souza, and Cottin in my memory, I rashly sent for a whole library of their works. What an ocean of milk and water! False sentiment, tawdry style, and a total absence of either sense or sensibility!

Even of the professional writers, how few possess the art of of arresting attention, amid the tumults of the busy world, as Scott and Byron used to do, when I sat from midnight till daydawn, engrossed by their last new works. I don't care about **** Before I open his book, I know that it will be bright, pure, polished, correct; but it is Carrara marble, employed in the manufacture of an elegant chimney-piece, not in the composition of a breathing piece of sculpture. I don't care for ***—his heroes are wooden, his stories lumbering; or for *****, whose soul seems always star-seeking in the celestial spheres. Of living poets, Wordsworth, the inspired, writes no longer; Moore writes prose, and Campbell travels; and of travels, I have vowed a vow to read no more, till they come to be written by cherubim, having only heads and wings. A traveller with an appetite, is as great a nuisance as Dando; and Fanny Kemble's hot suppers are almost as bad as Mrs. Trollope's 'cuteness. India, by the way, is the only land really fortunate in its tourists,-Heber, Jacquemont, Mundy, Miss Roberts; while, as to poor America, since the conquest of Peru, no country was ever so barbarously harassed by

foreigners. Were it not by a few biographies, and the little green-paper-covered common-sensical volumes of miscellanies, put forth in edification of the dunces of the rising generation, we, of the generation risen, should rarely find a new book to occupy our attention of an idle evening.

All

Now I am in process of commination, I must take leave to denounce a few things more. The little pictures, and little prints, and little poems, and little ballads of the day, are my utter abhorrence. A sickliness is beginning to degrade our taste in the arts, which cries aloud for reformation. is namby-pamby, all Tilburina in white satin, all H *** B***, all Paris, all fiddle-faddle! Every artist, poet, painter, or musician, seizes some spun-sugar idea, wraps it up in snipped paper, with a pretty little motto, as a pretty cadeau for pretty little ladies. When shall we again erect our worship to the noble, the stern, the simple, the vast? When will savage Rosa dash, or learned Poussin draw? When will Haydn or Handel revive-a Vandyke impart meaning to the human face divine—a Goldsmith or an Inchbald cheat one of genuine tears -or a Hogarth preach upon canvass a moral worth a thousand homilies? So weary am I of the embroidered-cambrichandkerchief school, that the sight of a table covered with tabby fied Annuals, is to me more nauseating than an apothecary's shop. The Fine Arts, viewed through the wrong end of the telescope, can be made as infiniment petits as any thing else; and an eternal diamond edition of the human understanding wearies the mind, as much as the eyes. Ah! here is a volume of "Poems, by the Howitts," and I am secure of a pleasant and profitable hour.

May 25th.-Four days since I wrote a line; what infidelity to my Diary!-and now the pen is in my hands, I feel too idle and good-for-nothing to bid it speed. To exhilarate the spirits, amusement, like champagne, should be taken in moderate quantities: excess renders one stupid. Epsom,—balls, —two delightful dinners, and a petit souper at Merioneth House last night, after the opera; yet, to-day, to borrow the comparison of Beatrice, I am as dull as a great thaw. The truth is, that the society of Lady Clackmannan and her daughter is extremely wearying; the former, because she excites one too much,—the latter, too little. Lady Clackmannan is full of fire and intelligence; subdued, indeed, by the high breeding of exclusivism; but your attention is not kept the less painfully on the stretch, because her eloquence is couched in a voice as low in tone as one of Breguet's dumb repeaters; nor does her glittering eye hold you less potently enthralled, because it is one that fixes only her intimates, and never wanders over the crowd. To pass a day with her is looking on a piece of intricate clock-work; you feel sure that, while the automaton performs its functions with measure and deliberation, wheel within wheel, and flyer upon flyer, are

labouring prestissimo within. As to Lady Alicia, her childish simplicity is a perpetual gather of primroses-an insipid scentless flower, not worth stooping for!

I wonder who was the rather sallow-looking, silent, but certainly distinguished man whom George Hanton brought with him to help us through our sandwiches at Epsom, and whom Lady Clackmannan appeared so anxious to engross? While she engaged him in an eager conversation on her side the carriage, Hanton whispered to me, with a glance at our small silver sandwich-box and bottle of sherry, "If one were not afraid to be seen in their society, there are people to be found at Epsom, who, instead of coming to see their bets decided, with a sandwich or two in the carriage, to avoid being too hungry for dinner, make a regular party of pleasure of the Derby, and bring down huge baskets from Gunter's;— pâtés de volaille and iced champagne,-quite a diner de campagne. To see them gormandizing in some of the carriages, you would suppose a famine at hand. I am convinced certain persons come to Epsom only to eat!"-And, having swallowed the remaining anchovy sandwich in the box, away went Mr. Hanton; and I actually saw him afterwards talking to the Ronsham Greshams, and devouring a plateful of tongue and chicken on the step of the family coach.

Epsom certainly presents a brilliant spectacle. Such an effusion of animal spirits in man and beast-such movementsuch excitement! Every one eager to be the last seen in town, and the soonest on the course; running the seventeen miles as if it were a heat. Then so many pretty dresses-so many pretty women, combined with fresh air, sunshine, and the sudden outburst into the country from the thraldom of town, render the day of the Derby an universal fête. The money to be made,-the money to be lost,-not only on the event of the race, but by the use and abuse of horses and carriages, finery and feeding, sets all the world in motion. The widely spreading course, variegated with colours of every hue, the sight of joyous faces,-the sound of

Ladies' laughter coming through the air;

the freshness of the crushed grass,-the springiness of the whole scene,-fill one with cheerful thoughts. Above all, the rare assemblage of fine horses, which start with the fine gentlemen (placing the fine gentlemen, in sporting term, second), to meet the running horses at Tottenham Corner! Altogether, what an air of prosperity,-what excess of luxury, -and what a contrast to the state of things I have, of late years, been compelled to witness! Yet, if the truth were told, there is six times as much spirit of enjoyment in the ragged regiment of spectators, gracing similar scenes, in Ireland; and if they sometimes close in strife and disorder, it is that the contrast afforded by such rare occasions of diversion

to the humiliations of daily life, proves too exciting for the reason of the unreasoning.

I wonder whether foreigners are as much impressed as I was by the coup d'œil of the Epsom course. No other occasion presents the English populace (aristocratic and plebeian) to their view, under so vivacious an aspect; thrice vivacious to me, who, for so many years, have inhabited a half-populated district, and written myself down, an ennuyée.

It was odd enough, by the way, that Lady Clackmannan should not introduce to me her sallow friend; for she has been * kind enough to present me to her whole acquaintance. But this one man, whom, by her manner of addressing him, she evidently values, she keeps to herself. I saw him again, for a moment, at Lady Bruce's ball, looking, as before, dry and discontented, though courted by all the finest of the fine ladies; and he was opposite to me at supper at Merioneth @House, where it was impossible to inquire his name, as he must have overheard the question. Lady Maria De Rawdon sat next him, flirting in her usual detestable style; and I fancied he looked as disgusted with her as unconscious of me. Why should one feel offended when a stranger passes several hours in close propinquity, without honouring one with a smile, a word, or even a look? Those were good old-fashioned times when people had an excuse for at least a civil gesture to their neighbours at table, in helping the dish before them, or inviting them to take wine.

Sir Jenison Delaval, who has just called, cannot assist my conjectures concerning Lady Clackmannan's sallow friend. He certainly is one of the stupidest and most unobservant men in Europe! He asked me as many questions about the Derby as if he had not read a dozen different accounts of the race in the newspapers; whereas, I saw no more of the running, than if I had passed the day in the vaults of St. Faith's. We arrived late, got a bad place; and I am not sportswoman enough to climb to a barouche-box, and grill myself an hour in the sun, for the enjoyment of so brief a pleasure. Mrs. Crowhurst, by the way, was seated, outshining Phœbus, on the highest box of a carriage, on the least prominent place of which I should have been sorry to be seen.

But this supper, I cannot dismiss from my mind the supper at Merioneth House. The duke was in high spirits, and eminently agreeable; my little crooked friend, Lady William Bately, gayer and more brilliant than I ever saw her, fully meriting her title of La Lucciola; and every one in his best mood and temper, except the strange man. It is one of the happy privileges of persons so great as the Duke of Mthat they never see people out of humour, or flowers out of bloom. The gardener takes care that the plants exhibited in their conservatory shall be in fullest blossom; and the guests who come to admire them, spread their butterfly wings, and