revolution in the
King's sentiments is to be dated from the journey to Hanover. Now
Bloomfield sits amongst the guests at dinner at the Pavilion; the
honours are done by the father on one side and the son on the
other.

1822.

July 16th, 1822 {p.050}

Since I wrote last I have been continually in town. I have won on
the Derby, my sister is married,[8] and I have done nothing worth
recording. How habit and practice change our feelings, our
opinions; and what an influence they have upon our thoughts and
actions! Objects which I used to contemplate at an immeasurable
distance, and to attain which I thought would be the summit of
felicity, I have found worth very little in comparison to the
value my imagination used to set upon them.... London is nearly
over, has been tolerably agreeable; but I have been very often
bored to death by the necessity of paying some attention to keep
up an interest.

[8] [Miss Greville married Lord Francis Leveson Gower,
afterwards Earl of Ellesmere, in 1822.]

July 30th, 1822 {p.051}

Madame de Lieven is ill with the King, and is miserable in
consequence. Lady Cowper is her _confidante_, and the Duke of
Wellington; but this latter pretends to know nothing of it, and
asked me the other day what it was, I am sure in order to
discover what people say. When the Duke was at Brighton in the
winter, he and the King had a dispute about the army. It began
(it was at dinner) by the King's saying that the Russians or the
Prussians (I forget which) were the best infantry in the world.
The Duke said, 'Except your Majesty's.' The King then said the
English cavalry were the best, which the Duke denied; then that
an inferior number of French regiments would always beat a
superior number of English, and, in short, that they were not
half so effective. The King was very angry; the dispute waxed
warm, and ended by his Majesty rising from table and saying,
'Well, it is not for me to dispute on such a subject with your
Grace.' The King does not like the Duke, nor does the Duke of
York. This I know from himself.

[Page Head: DEATH OF LORD LONDONDERRY.]

August 13th, 1822 {p.051}

I went to Cirencester on Friday and came back yesterday. At
Hounslow I heard of the death of Lord Londonderry.[9] When I got
to town I met several people who had all assumed an air of
melancholy, a _visage de circonstance_, which provoked me
inexpressibly, because it was