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Gottingen (Lower Saxony, Germany) (search for this): chapter 18
lf past 10, because, being a stranger, I must talk some time with each person to whom I am introduced, or else seem uncivil. Besides, I want to talk to them generally. July 20.—I worked at home till twelve o'clock, and then went about Library affairs, to the booksellers', and then to the British Museum. But on my way I stopped at the famous Bow Street office, where the police of all London is chiefly managed, and where one of the principal officers is Jardine, an old fellow-student at Gottingen forty years ago. He had complained heretofore that I had not been to see him when I had been in London, and two days ago I left my card, which he returned yesterday with a note, begging me to come and see him this morning at the Bow Street office, as he leaves London to-morrow for six weeks. I was glad I went, though I stopped only a few minutes; for he is a good, warm-hearted man, and was evidently pleased that I had remembered him. From three to six I spent in the library of a Mr. Tur
Sydenham (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 18
ffectionate messages. I talked a good deal with Richardson, Scott's old friend, who appears so largely and pleasantly in the Life by Lockhart. . . . . Telling him how fine I thought Scott's colloquial powers, he answered, Yes, but they were never so fine as when he was having a jolly good time with two or three friends. He then described to me what he considered the finest specimen he had ever had of them. It was when nobody was present but Tom Campbell. They dined together at Ton's, in Sydenham, near London,—a very modest little cottage, where I dined in 1815,—and where the scene of this talk was chiefly laid at just about the same period. They dined early, but by ten o'clock, brilliant as the conversation was, Tom was past enjoying it, and nothing remained for them but to carry him up stairs and put him to bed. Scott, however, was neither disturbed nor exhausted, and they two repaired to the village tavern, and ordering beefsteaks and hot brandy-and-water, Scott poured out flood
Stirling (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 18
tionately, received by Lady. Head, who could not say too much of her regret at not seeing you . . . . . We then went to Stirling's, and looked over his pictures and things, very curious, rich, and rare, and I worked a little among his Spanish books, and mean to work more, for there are good things among them. . . . . From Stirling's, Head and I went to the British Museum, where, as he truly said, it was amusing enough that I should lionize him. But he had not been there, of course, for fivete-á--tete with Mr. Bates, and had a long and very satisfactory conversation with him about the Library. Then I went to Stirling's, and worked in his library two or three hours, till I was obliged to go and make some calls, after which . . . . I cam I took leave of him . . . . for the third time, and always sorry to do it. . . . . July 15.—I worked a good while at Stirling's this morning; but as he gives me leave, very liberally, to bring home with me such books as I want to examine, I did n
Bombay (Maharashtra, India) (search for this): chapter 18
y 6 and 7, which I read through twice without stopping, and then carried to bed with me. . . . July 19.—Twisleton and I breakfasted with Milnes, and we had Mad. Mohl, Sir John Simeon,—a book-collector whom I met at the Duc d'aumale's and find very pleasant,—General Kmety,—a Hungarian, who flourished much in the last war at home and now flourishes much in society here,—young Harcourt, Lord Stanley, and enough more to make up a dozen. The talk was much about the defection of the Sepoys in Bombay, which begins to trouble them very much. I noticed last night that Lord Clarendon, Lord Palmerston, and two or three of their set, seemed so anxious to put a good face on the matter and keep up a cheerful courage, that I could not help feeling that they must have serious misgivings. Indeed, it cannot be otherwise; and the impression seems to be that there will be angry discussions in Parliament. But this last I take to be uncertain. British pluck will, I think, stand the ministers in
Twickenham (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 18
myself and stayed too late, so that I did not arrive at Senior's, to a musical party, till considerably after eleven o'clock. There I talked a long time with Lord Hatherton, who has just had a day or two from Tocqueville, and who—as well as Lady Hatherton—seemed to share the general admiration he has inspired during his visit here. . . . . July 18.—Milnes called for me in his open carriage at ten, and we drove through the beautiful country—which is found on almost all sides of London—to Twickenham, for a breakfast at the Duc d'aumale's. His place is called Orleans House, and is one of those rich old places that abound in England. It was once occupied by his father, Louis Philippe, and the Duc—who, you know, has the immense Conde fortune—has filled it up with rare and curious books, inherited pictures, manuscripts, etc., etc., all arranged with admirable taste, so that it is like a beautiful museum. This is inside; outside, an English lawn of many acres, with flower-beds an
East India (search for this): chapter 18
of which I remembered, so that when Lord Holland mustered up a knowing person and sent him to me,—for I went to the library alone,—I found him useless. Lord and Lady Holland were receiving a good many friends, and I lounged with them some time, after which I made a visit to Macaulay, who lives near, and with whom I had a long and interesting talk about Burke, as we sat on his beautiful lawn, where I found him reading. He said that Burke would have made a good historian, judging from his East India speeches and papers, which were drawn up with great labor, and perfectly accurate in their facts. I doubted, and doubt still. Burke was really made for a statesman and orator, and for nothing else. In the evening I went to Lord Granville's, having been obliged to refuse an invitation to dine there two days ago. Sir John Acton, who has been to see me twice, but whom I have not before met, was there, having arrived four days ago from the Continent. Sir John, now Lord Acton, had been
Russia (Russia) (search for this): chapter 18
last night that Lord Clarendon, Lord Palmerston, and two or three of their set, seemed so anxious to put a good face on the matter and keep up a cheerful courage, that I could not help feeling that they must have serious misgivings. Indeed, it cannot be otherwise; and the impression seems to be that there will be angry discussions in Parliament. But this last I take to be uncertain. British pluck will, I think, stand the ministers in good stead on this occasion, as it did in the war with Russia. I came home before two, and wrote to you and Circourt till four, when I made a very agreeable visit at Holland House, where I went into the old library and turned over a good many curious books, the very positions of which I remembered, so that when Lord Holland mustered up a knowing person and sent him to me,—for I went to the library alone,—I found him useless. Lord and Lady Holland were receiving a good many friends, and I lounged with them some time, after which I made a visit to Ma
Hyde Park, Mass. (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 18
considerable purchases of books, or at least make arrangements for them. Still, everything will depend on what I may hear. I am living with the Twisletons, in a most agreeable manner, petted enough to spoil me outright. They live almost next door to Sir George Lewis and Lord Morley,—not forgetting Lady Theresa,— close by Reeve of the Edinburgh Review, and within easy distance of Senior, Macaulay, Lord Holland. . . . . But their social position is better than all their surroundings on Hyde Park. . . . . It almost amuses me sometimes to hear such people as old Lord Glenelg, old Lord Monteagle, Lord Ashburton, and your friends Lord and Lady Wensleydale, talk of our own little Ellen, who is really as attractive a lady, and as agreeable, as any I meet in society. As for Lord Lansdowne,—now seventy-seven,—who breakfasted here the other morning, his manners to her showed a mixture of affection and gallantry that it was delightful to witness. Indeed, the sort of admiration I everywhe
Southampton (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 18
re. I wish I could add that I am easy in my thoughts. . . . . I want to know every hour how you are. I want to seem to do something for you . . . . I wish heartily, half the time, that I had never left the Arago, and sometimes think that the storm in which I escaped over the side of that vessel was a sort of warning to me not to leave it. But there is no use in all this; rather harm. . . . . We Miss Cushman and Miss Stebbins were his companions on this journey to London. did not reach Southampton till the five-o'clock train had been gone ten minutes. So we made ourselves comfortable, with a mutton-chop and a cup of tea, at an excellent inn there, and at fifteen minutes past seven took the next train, reached London at ten, and Rutland Gate at half past. Ellen and the Lyells had waited for me till half past 9, and then giving up all hope of me, they went to their respective parties. . . . . At midnight, giving them up in my turn, I went to bed. The first thing yesterday morning
Austria (Austria) (search for this): chapter 18
ing so great a subject; but he gives no sign as to the time when it will be ready for the press, and his health is not strong, especially since the death of his mother last winter, which I hear had a very painful effect upon him. But I am at the end of my paper . . . Yours always, G. T. To Mrs. Ticknor. London, July 13, 1857. I worked at the British Museum till four o'clock, and had some talk there with Stirling, who comes there almost every day to work for his history of Don John of Austria. But the chief event of the morning for me was a long visit I made, by his invitation, to old Lord Aberdeen; and a very interesting talk I had with him about the politics of Europe and, to some extent, of the United States. I have talked with no man in England who seems to be, on such great matters, so able and wise as he is, or so calm and moderate. . . . . In the afternoon Henry Taylor came and made me a long visit. He is only in town for the day, passing from Worcestershire to St.
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