We went to Saint Cloud with my old friend Mr. Drummond, now at a pretty maison de campagne at Auteuil.  Saint Cloud, besides its unequalled views, is rich in remembrances.  I did not fail to revisit the Orangerie, out of which Bon. expelled the Council of [Five Hundred].  I thought I saw the scoundrels jumping the windows, with the bayonets at their rumps.  What a pity the house was not two stories high!  I asked the Swiss some questions on the locale, which he answered with becoming caution, saying, however, that “he was not present at the time.”  There are also new remembrances.  A separate garden, laid out as a playground for the royal children, is called Il Trocadero,[391] from the siege of Cadiz [1823].  But the Bourbons should not take military ground—­it is firing a pop-gun in answer to a battery of cannon.

All within the house is changed.  Every trace of Nap. or his reign totally done away, as if traced in sand over which the tide has passed.  Moreau and Pichegru’s portraits hang in the royal ante-chamber.  The former has a mean look; the latter has been a strong and stern-looking man.  I looked at him, and thought of his death-struggles.  In the guard-room were the heroes of La Vendee—­Charette with his white bonnet, the two La Rochejacqueleins, Lescure, in an attitude of prayer, Stofflet, the gamekeeper, with others.

We dined at Auteuil.  Mrs. Drummond, formerly the beautiful Cecilia Telfer, has lost her looks, but kept her kind heart.  On our return, went to the Italian opera, and saw Figaro.  Anne liked the music; to me it was all caviare.  A Mr. ------ dined with us; sensible, liberal in his politics, but well informed and candid.

November 3.—­Sat to Mad.  Mirbel—­Spencer at breakfast.  Went out and had a long interview with Marshal Macdonald, the purport of which I have put down elsewhere.  Visited Princess Galitzin, and also Cooper, the American novelist.  This man, who has shown so much genius, has a good deal of the manner, or want of manner, peculiar to his countrymen.[392] He proposed to me a mode of publishing in America by entering the book as [the] property of a citizen.  I will think of this.  Every little helps, as the tod says, when, etc.  At night at the Theatre de Madame, where we saw two petit pieces, Le Mariage de Raison, and Le plus beau jour de ma vie—­both excellently played.  Afterwards at Lady Granville’s rout, which was as splendid as any I ever saw—­and I have seen beaucoup dans ce genre.  A great number of ladies of the first rank were present, and if honeyed words from pretty lips could surfeit, I had enough of them.  One can swallow a great deal of whipped cream, to be sure, and it does not hurt an old stomach.

November 4.—–­ Anne goes to sit to Mad.  Mirbel.  I called after ten, Mr. Cooper and Gallois having breakfasted with me.  The former seems quite serious in desiring the American attempt.  I must, however, take care not to give such a monopoly as to prevent the American public from receiving the works at the prices they are accustomed to.  I think I may as well try if the thing can be done.