“Chevening, July 15.—Yesterday I came here to a house where I have much memory of past kindness, and where I find the young Lord and Lady Stanhope eminently desirous of carrying it on. Lochiel and his Lady Margaret are here; she a daughter of the Duke of Buccleuch, and most unusually natural and pleasant.”
“July 16.—After luncheon, we had a pleasant walk to Knockholt Beeches—Lady Northcote, the two Stanhope brothers, Mr. Banks Stanhope, Lady Margaret, and I. Afterwards, sitting on the stone platform in front of the house, Sir Stafford Northcote told us—
“‘The great A. B. was tremendously jostled the other day in going down to the House. A. B. didn’t like it. “Do you know who I am?” he said; “I am a Member of Parliament and I am Mr. A. B.”—“I don’t know about that,” said one of the roughs, “but I know that you’re a damned fool.”—“You’re drunk,” said A. B.; “you don’t know what you’re saying.”—“Well, perhaps I am rather drunk to-night,” said the man, “but I shall be sober to-morrow morning; but you’re a damned fool to-night, and you’ll be a damned fool to-morrow morning.”’
“July 18.—Dined with Lady Ossington, the most charming, kindest, and richest of old ladies, to meet the Duchess of Sermoneta. Lady Enfield was there, with white hair turned back high on her head, like a Sir Joshua in real life. Mr. Newton was very amusing with his riddles:—
‘My first Gladstone loves,
My second Gladstone hates:
My whole, pronounced slow, is what Gladstone wishes:
My whole, pronounced quick, is where Gladstone ought to be.’
Answer, Reformatory.
“On the Greeks sending marble for a bust of Gladstone, he related the lines:—
‘When Woolner’s hand, in classic mood, carving the Premier’s pate is,
Hellas, to show her gratitude, sends him the marble gratis.
Oh, could this nation, but in stone, repay the gift genteelly,
This country would send back her own Glad-stone to Hell-as freely.’”
