All of a sudden the Princess sent out cards for a dinner party; all the persons she invited were of the opposition. I dare say it will be said that she lives entirely with these persons, and low company; the latter, alas ! is but too true.

To-day, I dined at Connaught House; the Princess Charlotte was there; she was in her most gracious mood, but appeared low-spirited. The Princess Sophia of Gloucester was also of the party; they left Connaught House early, and none of the royal party seemed pleased with one another.

-I came to town Thursday, 24th February. I never leave home without regret; life is so short, so uncertain, that it seems to me as if all voluntary absence from what we love most, is folly. I dined with my aunt, and went in the evening to Miss [-]. I made acquaintance with a Monsieur D'Erfeuil. He has a clever-looking countenance, but with a cast of the eye, not unlike that of the Duke of Orléans, and his expression implies insincerity. I heard that it is thought Mr. Robinson, Lord Grantham's brother, has brought over dispatches which are of a nature to force our government to make peace with Bonaparte. I am sorry for these poor deceived Bourbons, but not sorry for the peace which is talked of.

Friday. I dined at Lord F-] C-}'s. It is melancholy to see one of a distinguished family reduced to living in so little and mean a house; and the more so as he is thus reduced from a mistaken notion that he is acting rightly. And what is yet more grievous to his friends is, that it is impossible to be of any service to him, because his heart only half opens, and before one can get a place in it, it closes again. We played at dull cards. I escaped as soon as I could. I went to Mrs. Villiers, and

from Mrs. Villiers to Madame de Staël. At Mrs. Villiers's, I saw Mr. Arbuthnot and his bride; she is very pretty, but it is what is vulgarly called Pig Beauty, in English; in French La Beauté du Diable, i.e., Youth. He is all fire and flames and love, selon son ordinaire, and so very proud of her! It is rather agreeable to see any person so completely happy. There was, standing close by him, a person whom, twenty years ago, he had been madly in love with. She had, it was said, behaved remarkably well, but yet there was such a melancholy in seeing

The object alter'd, the desire the same

it was such a perfect illustration of the instability of all human affections, that I stood and philosophised on my own heart, and that of the rest of mankind, despising alike the one and the other. But this anger against myself never lasts long on se racommode si facilement avec ce que l'on aime!

From Mrs. Villiers I proceeded to Madame de Staël's. I saw there Monsieur de la Garde, Monsieur D'Erfeuil, Messrs. Gell, Craven, and Mercer, Monsieur de Merfelt, the Austrian ambassador, and I know not who besides. The latter has very ugly features, but a pleasing countenance. I made acquaintance with a Lady W[—], just come from Paris, who has brought a packet to Lady Hertford from the ci-devant Empress Josephine, which packet made much noise, and raised much conjecture; for persons inimical to the Regent were glad to catch hold of it as a subject of abuse. Whether the story I heard concerning the presents was true or not, I cannot say ; but it is curious. Lady W[-] praised Paris, its fashions, and its society; which latter, she says, is peculiarly agreeable to women.

Saturday. I dined with Madame de Staël; there were no ladies except Miss B[-] and Madame de Vaudreuil,

It is always delightful to be in Madame de Staël's society; even those persons who have been most inimical to her, have generally been subjugated by her sincerity, her kindness, and the charm of her conversation-which, unlike that of any other person, male or female, in giving out her own ideas, awakens those of her hearers, and draws them, as it were in despite of themselves, to a reciprocity of communication. Thus it was that Madame de Staël acquired a knowledge of mankind, which superseded all that books can ever teach.

From Madame de Staël's I proceeded to Lady Salisbury's. I met there my old friend Lord D[-]; he is not particularly amusing, but he has been my friend for twenty years, without ever evincing a shade less of kindness towards me during that long period. It is pleasant to have such a friend, and fully compensates for want of superior talent. Lady Salisbury's was a brilliant assembly. Lady Melbourne introduced me to a Monsieur de Neumann, an Austrian, who seems very agreeable. I like the society just now in London; there are many foreigners. Mademoiselle de Staël is very clever and agreeable en tête-à-tête, Lady [——] tells me, but she is shy and reserved in general society; one looks at her with interest, as being Madame de Staël's daughter.

Tuesday. I called on Mrs. W. Lock, to ask her how the Princess had received my excuse which I sent for Sunday last. Mrs. L[ock] said she was very gracious to her, and spoke kindly of me. Lady E. Whitbread, and Mrs. W[-], and Mrs. Beauclerck dined at Kensington that day. Mrs. L[ock] told me Lady E. Whitbread appeared shocked when she looked at the Princess's figure. Mrs. L[ock] ascribed this to the Princess's wearing extremely short petticoats; but I thought, with fear, that perhaps Lady E. Whitbread's disgust was occasioned by other ideas; although, considering the legs and feet which the

short petticoats display, there is more than enough to shock a woman like Lady E[lizabeth].

I dined with my aunt; she told me a curious anecdote she had heard about Caulincourt, who [she] had hitherto held in abhorrence, as the murderer of the unfortunate Duke D'Enghien. It is said that when he was sent to arrest him, he wished to save him, and, entering the room where the Duke was, he looked round, and then full at him, as at a person wholly unknown to him; then turning to his gens d'armes who attended him, he said-" You see the Duke is not here, we must seek him elsewhere ;-when a lady to whom the Duke D'Enghien was attached rushed into the room, and falling on her knees to Caulincourt, cried out, save him! save him! "Vous le voyez devant vous; vous n'aurez pas la cruauté de le perdre." At this imprudence, Caulincourt was obliged to execute the orders he had received, and he desired his men to seize their unfortunate victim. How far this story is a fabrication or not, in order to soften people's judgments against Caulincourt, rests with future times to discover.

Wednesday, 2d of March.—I am writing from the Priory; a far different scene of woe from that which I witnessed at Lady S[-]'s. Here every thing is to be as if no change had taken place. Poor Lord Abercorn! he wishes to forget those he has lost; but the remembrance of them will cling to him as long as life remains. He will not bend to the storm, but stands erect, and bids it defiance. I wish I could give him comfort, by advising him where to seek for it, where alone it is to be found; but his heart is hardened, and he will not believe.

To-day, I received a letter from the Princess of Wales :—

Extract

Of my health I have no right to complain, but the state of suspense and the ray of hope I had for some days past have

kept my mind in a constant state of perturbation; but this happy vision has vanished, and the monster is fast recovering again. Princess Charlotte I have now not seen for six weeks past. The only great news I can offer you, is Lady Charlotte Rawdon's extraordinary marriage with a lieutenant on halfpay, of the name of Fitzgerald; and the death of Sir John Douglas, which took place on the 5th of March, when exactly twelve months ago the division took place in Parliament upon his conduct. His burial was one of the most pompous ever seen, as if he had been the commander-in-chief himself, to the disgust and contempt of every body who saw that show passing; he has been buried at Charlton, to the great annoyance of the Perceval family and so much about nothing. I remain, for ever,

Your affectionate friend,

C. P.

I arrived at Worthing Tuesday evening. The weather was beautiful, but my mind was the reverse of serene; recollections of the past, and fears for the future, got the better of me. I dislike this place as a locale, yet it was by my own choice, I came to it. How unreasonable! Often when we say a thing is our own choice, it is the force of circumstances which drives us to the action; the will, in fact, is only in our minds; it frequently fails in the fulfilment, or is pleasing only on one side of the question, while it is abhorrent on the other. I tutored myself, however, to bear with better grace what I had determined to undergo; and, in the very endeavour to conquer ourselves, we lose some part of that irritable humour which mars our own comfort, as well as that of others.

I slept soundly the night of my arrival, and the next day the sun shone gaily, the sea looked grandly bright, and poor human nature was exhilarated. The power of employing one's faculties is the best gift of Heaven: I felt this power return in some small degree, and with it the enjoyment of existence.