George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor
George Hillard, Ed.

[387] poetical places, the architecture, the position, and the plantations being just what you would like to have them, and treated with the respect they deserve . . . .

When we reached town,—just before seven,—I drove directly to the Athenaeum, where, by previous appointment, I met Twisleton, who has come to town for two nights to attend a meeting of the Oxford Commission. . . . . We had a jolly time, I assure you, and, after going home, a good talk till eleven o'clock.

August 4.—. . . . I drove to the Barings', in the depths of the city, . . . . saw the gentlemen there,—except Mr. Bates, who is at Dover,—adjusted my money affairs, and, hastening to the London Bridge Station, came down to Mildmay's at Shoreham, in a thoroughly hot, disagreeable, stifling carriage of the three-o'clock train.¹ But I was refreshed by the drive of nine miles in a nice little open carriage, which Mildmay had sent to fetch me, and I was quite up to my usual condition when I reached the house,—so cool, so quiet, so consoling after five weeks in London, and the four preceding in Paris.

As I crossed the hall the servant gave me a note from Lady Stanhope about a visit to Chevening, and when I entered the room I found Lord Stanhope there, who had come over to see if I was arrived, bringing the Milmans with him, . . . . as they are now stopping a couple of nights at his house. It was all very agreeable.

When they were gone, and I had made myself a little comfortable, we went and sat on the lawn under the fine old trees till it was time to dress for dinner. It was delicious. So was the evening. I had asked Mildmay to invite nobody to meet me, and so we had a quiet and most agreeable time in the library. . . . .

August 5.—We had a little rain this forenoon, which was much wanted in the country, and very welcome to me, as it prevented all suggestion of moving. I remained in my chamber, chiefly occupied with writing. In the afternoon it was fine again, and we drove to Knowle, a grand old castellated mansion, belonging to the widow of the late Lord Amherst, of Chinese memory. Parts of it date from the time of King John, and none is more recent than the time of Henry VIII. It is very extensive, few old castles being so large, and it has an awful, hard, grim, feudal look, so slight have been the changes made in it . . . . . The drive was fine. Its own park is very large, and we took another in our way back.

August 6.—. . . . The day has been cool and beautiful. I lounged in the library an hour or so after breakfast, and then wrote and read in