Sept. 2, 1798.—Left London yesterday morning, and arrived at Colonel Sloane’s, Stoneham, at five. Colonel Sloane seems a sensible, polite, pleasing man; a good understanding and great mildness appear in his conversation. This house is situated on the river Itchen, which winds before the windows, and, with the addition of a single-arched bridge, and trees well grouped, forms a very pleasing view. A small lake, or rather pool, near the house, is excessively pretty; and nothing can be pleasanter than to walk on its margin under the shade of large plane-trees, whose branches arch over your head and dip themselves in the water; while on the opposite bank you see a rich variety of wood, which repeats itself in the clear dark surface. The scene is minute, but attractive; and the intermixture of weeping willows and trees of spiry forms among those of the more general shape, has a delightful effect.
Sept. 3.—Colonel Sloane, who commands the Hampshire Militia, received orders this morning at three o’clock to hold himself and his regiment prepared for going to repel the French invasion in Ireland.
Sept. 16.—Dined at Lord Palmerston’s. Broadlands is very beautiful, both from nature and from art; to the latter it is most indebted. The river winds just before the house, and the trees are luxuriant and well grouped; but its distinguishing feature is a species of rich unsullied verdure I have never seen but there.
Sept. 24.—This day closes my happy visit to Stoneham—spot ever to be remembered with grateful affection. Miss Sloane and Miss Dickenson kindly walked with me to Southampton, where I mean to pass a week, as my house in London is painting, and I have no engagement which it is convenient to me to fulfil till the 1st of October.
Sept. 29.—I have passed most of my time with Miss Sloane since my arrival at Southampton, and repent the misplaced delicacy and fear of intruding which hurried me from a place where I was so acceptable and so happy.
Oct. 3.—I arrived on the 1st at Lady Buckingham’s. La Trappe itself could not be more solitary than her habitation. The house is convenient, the walks retired and shady. She does not encourage visits, which pleases me, as solitude is preferable to the casual uninteresting society to be obtained in a villa near London. Lady Buckingham has engaged me for a month’s tête-à-tête. If our friendship survives this ordeal, it may be immortal.
Oct. 7.—Went to see Miss Agar, at Lord Mendip’s. She did not expect I would dine with her; was engaged out, and being in an empty house, had nothing to give me. She sent an excuse where she was expected, and we dined gaily on bacon, eggs, and porter. ‘Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,’ &c. The hour of parting came too soon.
Nov. 1.—Returned to town, after passing all October with Lady Buckingham. She is sensible, friendly, and pleasant; I am attached to her both by gratitude and choice; ‘mais mon âme ne se fond pas dans la sienne.’ The retirement we lived in was complete, and rather raised than lowered my spirits.
Dec. 1.—A long blank. I have been with good Lady Lifford and the pleasant Copes, and did not return to London till yesterday. London, as usual, agitates and disquiets me. It appears to me a gulf of splendid misery and attractive wickedness. ‘De profundis clamavi ad Te, Domine,’ to be preserved from both. I this day saw only Lady Yarmouth and Henry Sanford; yesterday Miss Sloane,—all very affectionate. That I often inspire affection is one of the chief blessings of my life.
Dec. 3.—Went with Lord and Lady Yarmouth to a private box, to see Mrs. Siddons in Isabella and Blue Beard. I think Mrs. Siddons is less various than formerly, and is so perpetually in paroxysms of agony that she wears out their effect. She does not reserve her great guns, as Melantius[8] calls them, for critical situations, but fires them off as minute guns, without any discrimination.