Lord Melville is talked of as Prime Minister.

_January 18, 1828._

Mary lent me her carriage. Saw Sarah dressed and walking about her room, not looking particularly ill, quite forgetting her plaintive manner. She told me Mr. Huskisson[282] had consented to take office under the Duke, for which she abused him in her old eager manner. Saw Lord G.o.derich, looking like the poor wretch he is.

_January 30, 1828._

Dined at Lady Charlotte Greville's. Met the F. Levesons, the Duke of Devonshire, Lord Morpeth, Lord Ashley[283] and Mr. Talbot. A pleasant dinner. The Duke told me he had been very sorry to resign and he was furious with Lord G.o.derich, that the King told him that the day Lord G.o.derich resigned one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber, knowing nothing of what had pa.s.sed, asked Lord G.o.derich to give him a lift to town; that the King had the curiosity to ask him on his return what he thought of Lord G.o.derich, and that the gentleman said he thought him very pleasant: he had joked and laughed till they came to Hounslow, and then fell asleep, and this immediately after having resigned--not only for himself, but for all his colleagues without their consent.

_February 14, 1828._

Got two places at the House of Commons, asked Theresa to go with me. Mr.

Hobhouse moved a vote of thanks to Sir E. Codrington,[284] and made a good speech, Mr. B. a very tiresome one, Sir J. Mackintosh rather a learned one; and Mr. Peel not a bad one, during which we came away, almost starved to death. Dined at 11.

_February 15, 1828._

Had a place at the House of Commons again. Borrowed Lady Bath's carriage and went to see her first. Found Lady Francis Leveson at the House. We were both very anxious for the explanation that was expected from Mr.

Huskisson. Mr. Peel[285] made a good speech on Finance, and proposed the Finance Committee. Mr. Baring proposed that Mr. Huskisson's name should be added to it. Mr. Brougham[286] said a few words in the same sense; then there came a silence, every one expecting Mr. Huskisson would speak, and that somebody would ask him to explain. But n.o.body got up, and Mr. Goulburn[287] moved an Adjournment which was received with a shout of laughter, and they all rushed out. We were all horribly disappointed, n.o.body found their carriages ready. Mrs. Horton's carriage took seven of us, and left me in Grosvenor Place.

_March 11, 1828._

Went out with Lady Harriet Baring upon trial to see if I liked her. Do not know now. Bought a bonnet at Madame Carsan's (not paid for).

_March 12, 1828._

Dined at Mrs. A. Baring's,--what she calls my dinner, one she gives every year to which I am supposed to ask the company. The B. Barings, H.

Mildmays, Theresa, H. Villiers, Mr. Labouchere,[288] Mr. Luttrell, Mr.

A. Greville, Mr. Ponsonby and F. Baring. Went on to Devonshire House, where George and f.a.n.n.y had dined.

_Miss Eden to Miss Villiers._

LANGLEY, _Sat.u.r.day, January 5, 1828_.

DEAREST THERESA, I have been trying by the help of the newspaper to form the slightest guess of your movements, but I cannot make them out.

Sarah's reform lasted nearly three days, and she is now herself again, in the most finished perfection. Her hatred to Blackheath and her violent love of Downing Street prove to me that she sees the time is near when they must leave the latter abode, and the only thing makes me doubt that he is going out, is her avowed wish that he should leave office.[289] Her indifference about her baby, after all the fuss she made, is so in harmony with the rest of her cross-grained character, that I contemplate it with the fondest admiration.

I know no news to tell you. The laundry here was robbed on Tuesday, which seems to afford the children great amus.e.m.e.nt. I have experienced the pleasure of a robbed laundry before, and it does not amuse me now--much. I asked Wright if I had lost anything. "Only your best cap, and your two best frills, and your best worked habit-shirt, and your best lace,"--none of them having been better than their fellows till they were stolen. Ever your affectionate

E. E.

_Lady Campbell to Miss Eden._

ARMAGH, 1828.

Here I am _translated_ to Armagh. I got through the journey and all the bother wonderfully by Georgina St. Quintin's[290] help. I parted with her in Dublin, where I spent five days, and where I found Lady Glengall, Mr. Villiers, Lord Forbes, Lady Erroll.[291] But I was glad to leave Dublin; even in those few days I saw so much _traca.s.serie_ and fuss about nothing, that I would not live there on any account if I could help it. Emmy, I find that I am totally unfit for what is called the world, or anything like it. I have forgotten its ways and its language,--in short, I have seen too much sorrow to be up to it. I thought Dublin itself beautiful, and Lady Glengall was most good-natured,--crammed me into one of her own Hats and sent me to a ball at the Castle which was beautiful. I dined with all the military people, and came away nothing loth. The tyranny of the Few over the Many does not strike the eye so much here, although I believe this to be the very heart of it--the positive _pips_ of the orange.

I have seen my new General. They say he is very gentlemanlike and good-natured. He seems to me stupid and vulgar, but pray _double-lock_ this, for we cannot afford to quarrel with another General. We are nearly ruined by this last move, that is one of the things that makes me low. I am not at all sure that we shall not be obliged to _sell out_ now, from money difficulties. So much sickness, and a move has thrown us back horribly, so you must bear with me now and then, my own Emmy. When I do not write it is because I am fretted and full of care. I keep up my spirits wonderfully, and am quite well as to health, and Sir Guy, too, fights on manfully. He means to try all he can before he sells, but if he cannot manage, we _must_ sell and say no more about the matter; but only think how much better off we are than others in the world. Write to me, my dear Emmy, for your letters do me good and cheer me. I was quite glad to talk about you to Mr. Villiers.[292] He seemed to think it was _extraordinary_ how much you loved me, and I began to think it oddish myself, for certainly _je ne vaux pas grand chose_, when I come to consider.

_May 27, 1828._

Will you make another attempt to find Abby, he resorts much to that Mulligatawny fount frequented by Turtle, and on the banks of which curry grows spontaneous,--the Oriental Club?

I do not much like this place, but we have many negative blessings--a quiet peaceable General, an Adjutant-General full of abstruse erudition.

Talking of this man, by the bye, I want to know whether the Committee of useful knowledge know that there are gangs of half-informed science-mongers, who are going about quoting the information they plunder out of the library, and bringing it out as their own topics, without giving notice of where they have taken them. This said Colonel Moore (nephew to Sir Graham[293]) is a nefarious pilferer, and tried to cram the information of the Duke's[294] Bill down my throat as his own discovery.

Emily, the day is at hand when we shall sigh for a plain fool and the sight of a natural will be good for sore eyes. We shall, it is hardly doubted, have a row here, for our Orangemen are frantic, and _will_ walk and _will_ play their horrid tunes. We had a man killed in a fray a week ago about a drum.

_Lady Campbell to Miss Eden._

_June 2, 1828._

MY DEAR EMMY, You are right, there is nothing like answering directly, but my dear child, I have nothing to tell you. Here one day certifieth the other, and I see no one, nothing happens--lessons and walks and eating--and now and then a bore drops in by way of a change. And the people speak so as to be tolerably understood, and their rags are sufficient to cover them, and there is not that variety of dislocation among the limbs of the beggars, which now and then accorded us a topic in the south. You might as well expect a letter from a silkworm out of the very heart of its coc.o.o.n....

I like my house although it has only its snugness and a cheerful view to recommend it; but the people as yet rather bore me. In short, my dear Emmy, I return to the old song:--I don't care _that_--for acquaintances.

I had rather have my hedge of life with its gaps and rents, than patch it up with rubbish; and if the goodly cedars are laid low, the place that knew them shall at least remain void, and show that such things were. I really feel this more and more every day. I love my friends better than ever, but making an acquaintance is positively disagreeable.

Your letters are such gleams to me. That alliance of Car[295] and her pretty little hands with Moloch Mostyn did enchant me.

Do you know, Mrs. Vansittart's consent ought to be more known. It is the longest step emanc.i.p.ation has made this age.[296] You see, Emmy, she was quite right about the girl's beauty, and you quite wrong.

I wish you could see my shaved head. I look like a Greek pipe-bearer, or Haggai himself, or something very much out of the way. But all my hair was really coming out. They say I shall have a good crop in six months, and be able to turn it up in a year.

We are in doubts still about our finances. I do not well know what is to become of us, but I try not to fret. I wish you would make a friendship with the Downshires, that would conduce to your coming to the North country.

Do you think Lord Auckland is to be moved this way? What people do you see most of? Which of my deputies is filling up my place? Is it your Bath or Maria Copley? What is become of Miss Villiers, and how is poor Lady Grantham?... How are you yourself? Good-bye, Dearest. Ever your own

PAMELA CAMPBELL.

_Miss Eden to Miss Villiers._

EASTCOMBE, _August 31, 1828_.

I suppose my genius is to be cramped into this single sheet, which is very unpleasant.

I was very glad to get your letter, as well to hear something about you, so as to know where to write.[297] It is an excellent plan your writing a few times at different places. Your letter amused me particularly. You have done adventures enough now for some time, and may pursue your way safely without any danger of shocking me with the want of incident.

No, I am not fastidious, because I _dis_like very few people (those might be called enemies); and I like a great many for their good qualities without liking their society (those are my acquaintances); and then I like a great many more for good qualities, or agreeableness, or their affection for me (those are my friends); and amongst those are a chosen few particularly _perfect_, combining the three advantages, and those are my intimate friends. And unless I can be with either of the two last cla.s.ses, I have not a sufficient love of society not to prefer being alone. But I do not at all despise or dislike those I do not wish to be with,--quite the contrary. I respect them to the greatest degree, only I do not care about them, and I cannot praise them as I do the others. Your system of general praise would bring you by degrees to think it equally pleasant to meet Sir Gore Ouseley and Mr. Luttrell, Mr.

Lushington[298] and Lord Alvanley, and you would like me to say Harriet Baring is as pleasant an incident at a dinner as yourself. No thank you; I prefer my distinctions. The dark shadows of _bore_ bring out the lights of agreeableness, and I like to _perceive_ a difference, even if I do not act upon it. However, do not let us argue by letter; there is no room for it.

My dear, my Irish journey is defunct, dead, deceased, annihilated, and I shall follow its example if things go on so. You may, if your English papers follow you, have seen that a man of the name of Austin[299] has _defaulted_ from Greenwich Hospital, after having cheated it to a great amount. It is not worth telling you the story, besides, I have thought of nothing else till I am sick of it; but it has worried and annoyed George, who is Auditor of the Accounts, to a degree that I cannot express. Austin has been taken at Limerick, but that does very little good, and only gives the additional trouble of arranging the manner of prosecuting him, which will be a difficult business, as our laws, according to the accurate observations I have made on them for many years, are calculated chiefly for the protection and encouragement of crime; and besides encouraging husbands to kill their wives, and masters their apprentices, have had an eye to the safety of Austin, and all the thousands of pounds that were found in his trunk cannot be touched. I do not precisely see the justice of his taking our Irish journey, and leaving us to settle his accounts, but I suppose it is all right. The investigation of the whole business has been put into George's hands, and there is so much that is disagreeable in it, besides confining him to the neighbourhood of Greenwich, that he has been very low, poor fellow! But like a sensible man, he sent for me to keep up his spirits; and we have been here the last three weeks, and shall be here a fortnight longer, and then I fear we shall have to go to London.

Well, I hold it wrong to grumble, but I do not love London at any time, and above all, not in September; and I grudge the loss of his shooting, and I hate to see him so bothered.

I went to town last Tuesday, as I heard of a large covey of friends that might be shot flying, and I saw Maria [Copley] just come from Tunbridge, looking better but not well. Lady Grantham, looking ill, from Tunbridge also; Coppy, freshly imported from Dieppe in great spirits; Lady C.

Greville pa.s.sing on to Dublin; and various other acquaintances.