McGregor, who looks very pretty this evening, and talks so doucely in her simplicity, that she quite takes me. On my right is Mrs. Senior, a good soul, apparently deserving her name better than her husband, but, without being at all coarse or impertinent, decidedly vulgar. And, indeed, so were the whole set except Mr. Grant and the McGregors. Still, I like them all except Bowring, whose outre cuidance and forwardness are insufferable. Mrs. Senior was cracking jokes at the expense of her friend, Mrs. Hume, who had never been abroad before, whereas Mrs. Senior (as she took occasion to let me know) had been in Paris once upon a time. "Oh! we have taken her to such strange places, and it was so amusing to observe the impression they made on her." Strange places, said I; may I be permitted to inquire what these curiosities are! "Oh, to Cafés and Restaurans." Indeed, I reply, I don't wonder at her sensations then, for I own I never feel at home in one of them. She misinterprets this, and fends off by saying, "the Mar-chio-ness (Marchesa) Accomati goes to them, and if she can, I'm sure I may." This answers the double purpose of justifying her conduct and letting me know she knows that very amiable young lady, whom I met with some time ago at Lady C. Fitzgerald's. After dinner I have a long talk with Senior, who is a very intelligent and unobtrusive person. He asks me to breakfast, but I tell him if it is before 12 it is impossible,-for I never go out earlier. Then he tells me he will send me two publications in which he has had a hand,—the Complete Reader of the Whig Ministry, and some Report on the Poor Laws.

In the evening to Mrs. Freke's, where there is a small party. Count Plater tells me he has called repeatedly to ask me a singular though great favor,-which is to let him use as a pretext for declining an invitation to a patriotic banquet, to be given by subscription to-morrow, that he is engaged to dine with me. I tell him certainly, and it shall be the truth, if he pleases; so I invite him, with Lenowski and another young Pole, to dine tomorrow. Having done so, I make my escape very early, and go to bed at half-past 11.

24th Sept. On coming down, my servant asks me if I am going to St. Gudule to-day to assist, with the king, at the mass of the dead of September. I tell him no. Afterwards he comes in, and informs me the coachman had mentioned to him that the rest of the corps were there. This throws me into the greatest consternation. I expect to have all the newspapers out upon me, for my guilty conscience suggests that it is a happy deliverance from the scene that I fancy is to take place after the mass, at the Place des Martyrs. There never lived a biped that holds all that sort of mummery more in horror and detesta

tion than I do. So, without a moment's delay, I write a note to Seton begging him to excuse me to His Majesty,-alleging that I had had no invitation, etc., etc., and understood Sir R. Adair to say, yesterday, that he did not intend to go. I wrote also to Mr. Livingston, in case the papers should notice it, justifying my absence completely. But before I sent my letters, I thought it as well to call on Sir Robert. On being shown up to the drawing-room, I find Dr. Bowring in the act of telling him what a sensation the absence of the whole corps diplomatique had created; for, it seems, none of them had gone, until about halfpast 12, at the instance of the king himself, (dit-on,) who suspected some omission on the part of the ministry, messengers were dispatched post-haste to beg us to go, if possible, though but for a moment,-on which Hamilton and Crampton did present themselves at the Place des Martyrs; the messengers had not found my house, it seems, and I was greatly relieved by the information, and immediately call, according to appointment yesterday, on the little Freke, to whom I address as many compliments as my special affection for her warm-hearted and pretty little person prompted, and those were very, very many.

Dine at 6. My Poles engage in a political conversation with one another, which they keep up with the greatest animation until past 10 o'clock,-I occasionally dipping in, but not enough to prevent my being mortally ennuied, for I was waited for during the last hour and a half. The principal interlocuteurs were M. Plater and a young gentleman, just returned from a mad expedition to Poland, where he escaped by miracle, but some of his companions suffered death, after the cruellest torture. This young man raves like a maniac when he speaks of the retrograde system of the "11 Mars", and prophecies the downfal of Louis Philippe. Count Plater talked very much like a man of sense, and, being a Pole, like a philosopher. I threw out occasional doubts about the guilt of the "Juste Milieu", and begged to understand distinctly what were the several charges alleged against it by the Movement Party.

Invited to dine at the palace to-morrow.

24th Sept. Before I come down, Mr. Burns of New-York, and Mr. Stevenson of Albany, call. The latter sends me up two letters of introduction,-from Mr. Van Buren and Mr. Walter Patterson. I have a talk with them; invite them to dine on Friday. Decline; going on that day.

At 12, go to the race and take my place in the royal loge. The scene was a very animated one,-the running no great things; but the race of indigenous horses (that is, English horses bred in Belgium) is far better than I had any idea it was. Count Duval showed some very fine beasts; and, what struck

me, entered, avowedly, three of his own for one prize. A jockey of a man, of the name of Salter, got thrown and miserably hurt. An accident happened to another, run by Lord Wm. Paget, a wretched poney, which was easily distanced. Sir R. A., who felt a chill, did not get out of his carriage, but sent me word he would be glad I would fetch Mr. Grant back to town,-which I accordingly did. I was charmed with the good sense and simple manners of this person. As I passed the Park and the Place Royale, saw such a crowd, that one who had not been at the populous race course would have thought all Brussels was there. The balloon was expected to be going up, but it was no go.

Dine at Court; about seventy covers. Before I go Sir Robert sends for me. I go and find him in bed, in a perspiration. He begs me to excuse him to the king, and to do another commission for him; above all, to let it be known he is not very ill, but has taken to his bed by way of precaution. The portrait of- is at his side, in bed; and he dreads should the cursed newspapers get hold of his indisposition, that both she and his sister will hurry to Brussels at the risk of their own health. Poor old gentleman: I know how to sympathise with him in this deep and natural feeling, which the world calls folly, and which, perhaps, is so.

From Court, home to rest a little. Then to a ball, given by subscription, in the Salle de Grand Concert, where I find their Majesties when I go in. The number of people not so great as at the military ball some time ago. The queen danced four times, and she dances perfectly well: twice with officers of the garde civique, managers of the ball. Lady Morgan is there and her husband and nieces. So is Hume; who remarks that they have two things here which they want very much in England, economy and morality.

26th Sept. Grand Review, which I don't see. Go out en voiture, and find it difficult to make my way to the post-office on account of the troops, and back to the Place Royale, on account of the crowd that had been to see them. Call on Messrs. Stevenson and Burns,—not in. Hear that Mr. Patterson, with his sisters, are at the Hotel de l'Europe; call,—not in. See all the preparations made for the grand concert to-day. Returning, call at M. de Latour Maubourg's, and ask where the corps is to be. Sends me word, at the hotel of Count Werner de Mérode, in the Place Royale, in uniform. Have just entered my bureau, when Mr. Patterson walks in. He has been at Antwerp some three weeks, without my knowing it. I offer him cards for the enceinte reservée; he tells me to give them to Messrs. Stevenson and Burns, which I do. Make a toilette and go to the hotel de M. W. de Mérode. After some half hour or so, the Latour

Maubourgs and Hamilton come in. Afterwards their Majesties and suite. The coup d'œil presented by the orchestra on the platform of St. Jacques sur Canderberg, composed of 424 musicians of the different military corps in full feather, and of that beautiful square filled with many thousands of people, at least half of whom were well-dressed women,-was magnificent. The performance of that colossal orchestra was, also, wonderful. I was particularly struck with its execution in the overture of William Tell. It was worthy of consideration that these bands had never before played all together. Just before they began this glorious piece of music, which was next to the last, (a mélange of the Marseillaise and the Brabançon,) it began to rain, not very hard, however, and thousands of umbrellas were opened and added to the effect of the scene. But the concert, however well-conducted, was, like all concerts, tedious, for it was too long, the first part alone lasting an hour and a quarter, and the whole not being over until past 6, when the sky was becoming dark and the audience hungry. And never did I see so large an assembly, gathered on such an occasion, discover such perfect apathy. As the king and queen drove off, a very few voices in their neighborhood uttered some scattering, faltering vivats. The bad weather was unfavorable to the illumination and fire-works at night, which, the papers say, were very brilliant. I saw a part of the former, it was any thing else. The fire-works I did not see, being so fatigued by to-day and yesterday's work, that I was glad to get to bed about 10 o'clock.

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27th Sept. Horrible day, rainy, dark and cold. Find the race takes place notwithstanding, and that their Majesties attend. So I sally out, and arrive in time to see an English horse, called Paradox, distance Count Duval's whole stud at once; at the which the poor little sportsman and Madame de Bdoubtless very much chapfallen. Neither Count de Latour Maubourg nor I went into the king's loge, but stayed in the one on its right, where it was horribly cold. I had a long talk with Lady Morris, who tells me she smokes cigars constantly, and is positively going on Monday.

28th Sept. Mr. Patterson calls, and Mr. Serruys, vice-consul at Ostend. While Mr. P. is with me, Mr. Fitzgerald comes in with an atlas he bought for me, at a sale, some days back. We have a long chat, which ends in my inviting them both to dine. with me to-morrow. Afterwards, I go out en voiture, and call on my man Dubos. Return and go on foot to the Frekes',-not at home. Thence to the Seymours; see Madame for the first time since the Prince's death. Tells me poor little Emma is exceedingly distressed, and weeps continually,--that she has VOL. I.-13

just prevailed on her to go out and take the air; mentions many little attentions of the Prince to her, (and they were even more numerous and delicate than I thought). She weeps, herself, as she speaks, and tells me she is glad she can do so before me, for the world might think it ridiculous. The world! As I go down I see Mr. Seymour, and have a talk with him. Ask him if he could reconcile it to himself to dine with me to-morrow. After some hesitation, begs me to excuse him. Thence home, and finding myself extremely unwell, (especially by that symptom of a disordered stomach, chez moi, bad eyes,) I sally out again on foot, and walk until 6 o'clock. As I pass, the proprietor of a fine apartment in the Hotel de Galles (who wants to have me for a tenant) shows me his stables, which are absolutely under ground. This alarms me not a little.

I dine alone, and, at 10 o'clock, go to a soirée at Mr. White's. Some English there of the name of Wyane, and very few besides. Horribly cold and stiff, and so I soon drop off.

Most of the persons I invite to dine with me to-morrow engaged.

29th Sept.-Sunday. Had a terrible attack of heart-burn last night, which compelled me to get up. Want of exercise on foot during these fêtes. As I come down to fill up some letters of invitation, comes one for me from the Grand Marshal of the Court. Dinner, of course, blown up. Excuse myself immediately to the gentlemen who had accepted, and in a funk about the time I shall appoint for it. Go out (the day being delicious) in my landaulette open. Call on Mr. Patterson-not at home. Take a drive; go to Summerhauzen's, then home. At Court at 6. Before going there, send out my invitations for to-morrow. At Court, give my arm to Lady Isabella Fitzgibbon, daughter of Lady Clare, who walks with the French ambassador. This young lady charmed me. She would be plain were it not for her fine dark eyes-but she is so sensible and agreeable. Among other things she tells me, whenever she hears of mother Trollope's book, she thinks of Lady Wellesley,-whom, she has often said, were she governess of a Princess Royal, she would propose as the most perfect model of courtly manners. She has never seen any body like her. I really enjoyed this dinner. After it, Lord Cranstoun (who is there) comes up, and says he has a grudge against me for making myself so agreeable to his young country-woman, who had told him I paid her the prettiest compliment she ever had in her life. (So much the more fortunate I, for I really can't remember what it was, myself.) I tell him if I did not please, it was not because I was not pleased, for were I a young English lord, I should try to make her my lady. He assents,--(he is a handsome young man, about four