The indissolubility of marriage, so often urged as an additional cause for aggravating the sense of annoyance experienced by those wedded but unsuited to each other, is, in my opinion, one of the strongest motives for using every endeavour to render the union supportable, if not agreeable.  If a dwelling known to be unalienable has some defect which makes it unsuited to the taste of its owner, he either ameliorates it, or, if that be impracticable, he adopts the resolution of supporting its inconvenience with patience; so should a philosophical mind bear all that displeases in a union in which even the most fortunate find “something to pity or forgive.”  It is unfortunate that this same philosophy, considered so excellent a panacea for enabling us to bear ills, should be so rarely used that people can seldom judge of its efficacy when required!

Saw la Gazza Ladra last night, in which Malibran enacted “Ninetta,” and added new laurels to the wreath accorded her by public opinion.  Her singing in the duo, in the prison scene, was one of the most touching performances I ever heard; and her acting gave a fearful reality to the picture.

I have been reading the Calamities of Authors all the morning, and find I like the book even better on a second perusal—­no mean praise, for the first greatly pleased me.  So it is with all the works of Mr. D’Israeli, who writes con amore; and not only with a profound knowledge of his subjects, but with a deep sympathy, which peeps forth at every line, for the literary men whose troubles or peculiarities he describes.

His must be a fine nature—­a contemplative mind imbued with a true love of literature, and a kindness of heart that melts and makes those of others melt, for the evils to which its votaries are exposed.

How much are those who like reading, but are too idle for research, indebted to Mr. D’Israeli, who has given them the precious result of a long life of study, so admirably digested and beautifully conveyed that in a few volumes are condensed a mass of the most valuable information!  I never peruse a production of his without longing to be personally acquainted with him; and, though we never met, I entertain a regard and respect for him, induced by the many pleasant hours his works have afforded me.

Met the Princesse de Talleyrand last night at Madame C——­’s.  I felt curious to see this lady, of whom I had heard such various reports; and, as usual, found her very different to the descriptions I had received.

She came en princesse, attended by two dames de compagnie, and a gentleman who acted as chambellan.  Though her embonpoint has not only destroyed her shape but has also deteriorated her face, the small features of which seem imbued in a mask much too fleshy for their proportions, it is easy to see that in her youth she must have been handsome.  Her complexion is fair; her hair, judging from the eye-brows and eye-lashes, must have been very light; her eyes are blue; her nose, retrousse; her mouth small, with full lips; and the expression of her countenance is agreeable, though not intellectual.