told, for I have never read them.  She must have been beautiful, and is still well-looked.  She is the mother of the handsome Count de Flahault, and had a very well-looking daughter with her, besides a son or two.  She was very agreeable.  We are to meet again.  The day becoming decidedly rainy, we returned along the Boulevards by the Bridge of Austerlitz, but the weather was so indifferent as to spoil the fine show.

We dined at the Ambassador’s—­Lord Granville, formerly Lord Leveson Gower.  He inhabits the same splendid house which Lord Castlereagh had in 1815, namely, Numero 30, Rue du Fauxbourg St. Honore.  It once belonged to Pauline Borghese, and if its walls could speak, they might tell us mighty curious stories.  Without their having any tongue, they spoke to my feelings “with most miraculous organ."[387] In these halls I had often seen and conversed familiarly with many of the great and powerful, who won the world by their swords, and divided it by their counsel.

Here I saw very much of poor Lord Castlereagh—­a man of sense, presence of mind, courage, and fortitude, which carried him through many an affair of critical moment, when finer talents might have stuck in the mire.  He had been, I think, indifferently educated, and his mode of speaking being far from logical or correct, he was sometimes in danger of becoming almost ridiculous, in spite of his lofty presence, which had all the grace of the Seymours, and his determined courage.[388] But then he was always up to the occasion, and upon important matters was an orator to convince, if not to delight, his hearers.  He is gone, and my friend Stanhope also, whose kindness this town so strongly recalls.  It is remarkable they were the only persons of sense and credibility who both attested supernatural appearances on their own evidence, and both died in the same melancholy manner.  I shall always tremble when any friend of mine becomes visionary.[389]

I have seen in these rooms the Emperor Alexander, Platoff, Schwarzenberg, old Blucher, Fouche, and many a marechal whose truncheon had guided armies—­all now at peace, without subjects, without dominion, and where their past life, perhaps, seems but the recollection of a feverish dream.  What a group would this band have made in the gloomy regions described in the Odyssey!  But to lesser things.  We were most kindly received by Lord and Lady Granville, and met many friends, some of them having been guests at Abbotsford; among these were Lords Ashley and Morpeth—­there were also Charles Ellis (Lord Seaford now), cum plurimis aliis.  Anne saw for the first time an entertainment a la mode de France, where the gentlemen left the parlour with the ladies.  In diplomatic houses it is a good way of preventing political discussion, which John Bull is always apt to introduce with the second bottle.  We left early, and came home at ten, much pleased with Lord and Lady Granville’s kindness, though it was to be expected, as our recommendations came from Windsor.