We are comfortably settled in this good central situation. We were last
Monday at a select early party at Mrs. Hope's. The new gallery of
Flemish pictures given to Mr. Hope by his brother is beautifully
arranged.
I have had the greatest pleasure in Francis Beaufort [Footnote: Brother
of the fourth Mrs. Edgeworth.] going with us to our delightful
breakfasts at Mr. Ricardo's--they enjoy each other's conversation so
much. It has now become high fashion with blue ladies to talk Political
Economy, and make a great jabbering on the subject, while others who
have more sense, like Mrs. Marcet, hold their tongues and listen. A
gentleman answered very well the other day when asked if he would be of
the famous Political Economy Club, that he would, whenever he could find
two members of it that agree in any one point. Meantime, fine ladies
require that their daughters' governesses should teach Political
Economy. "Do you teach Political Economy?" "No, but I can learn it." "O
dear, no; if you don't teach it, you won't do for me."
Another style of governess is now the fashion,--the _ultra-French_: a
lady-governess of this party and one of the Orleans' or _liberaux_ met
and came to high words, till all was calmed by the timely display of a
ball-dress, trimmed with roses alternately red and white,--"Garniture
aux préjugés vaincus." This should have been worn by those who formerly
invented in the Revolution "Bals aux victimes."
Yesterday we breakfasted at Mrs. Somerville's, and sat in her
painting-room. Left her at one o'clock, and went by appointment to
Lansdowne House. Lady Lansdowne quite affectionate to Fanny and Harriet;
had fire and warm air in the superb new statue saloon on purpose for
them. Mrs. Kennedy,--Sir Samuel Romilly's daughter,--came in, invited to
meet us, very pleasing manners. Mrs. Nicholls,--Lady Lansdowne's
niece,--"I like that you should know all I love."
Then we went with Captain and Mrs. Beaufort to Belzoni's tomb,--the
model first, and then the tomb as large as life, painted in its proper
colours,--a very striking spectacle, but I need not describe it; the
book represents it perfectly.
Next door to the tomb are the Laplanders, the man about my size, at
work, intently, but stupidly, on making a wooden spoon. The wife was
more intelligent: a child of five years, very quiet gray eyes. In the
middle of the apartment is a pen full of reindeer,--very gentle and
ravenously eager for moss, of which there was a great basket. This moss,
which they love as well as their own, has been found in great quantities
on Bagshot Heath.
We went one night to the House of Commons: Mr. Whitbread took us there.
A garret the whole size of the room--the former chapel--now the House of
Commons; below, _kitcats_ of Gothic chapel windows stopped up appear on
each side above the floor: above, roof-beams. One lantern with one
farthing candle, in a tin candlestick, all the light. In the middle of
the garret is what seemed like a sentry-box of deal boards and old
chairs placed round it: on these we got and stood and peeped over the
top of the boards. Saw the large chandelier with lights blazing,
immediately below: a grating of iron across veiled the light so that we
could look down and beyond it: we saw half the table with the mace lying
on it and papers, and by peeping hard two figures of clerks at the
further end, but no eye could see the Speaker or his chair,--only his
feet; his voice and terrible "ORDER" was soon heard. We could see part
of the Treasury Bench and the Opposition in their places,--the tops of
their heads, profiles, and gestures perfectly. There was not any
interesting debate,--the Knightsbridge affair and the Salt Tax,--but it
was entertaining to us because we were curious to see and hear the
principal speakers on each side. We heard Lord Londonderry, Mr. Peel,
and Mr. Vansittart; and on the other side, Denman, Brougham, and
Bennett, and several hesitating country gentlemen, who seemed to be
speaking to please their constituents only. Sir John Sebright was as
much at ease as in his own drawing-room at Beechwood: Mr. Brougham we
thought the best speaker we heard, Mr. Peel next; Mr. Vansittart the
best language, and most correct English, though there was little in what
he said. The Speaker, we were told, had made this observation on Mr.
Vansittart, that he never makes a mistake in grammar. Lord Londonderry
makes the most extraordinary blunders and _mal-à-propos_. Mr. Denman
speaks well. The whole, the speaking and the interest of the scene
surpassed our expectations, and we felt proud to mark the vast
difference between the English House of Commons and the French Chambre
des Députés. _Nevertheless_, there are disturbances in Suffolk, and Lord
Londonderry had to get up from dinner to order troops to be sent there.
_To_ MRS. EDGEWORTH.