some others not a syllable of any
description was uttered, and when some more English were shewn in who
were, I presume, as respectable as myself, his behaviour was quite
boorish, he did not condescend to look towards the door. These things
went on till a throng of Spaniards with Stars and orders came in; with
these he appeared tolerably intimate, and also with three Englishmen who
afterwards appeared. We were about 24 in number, and all I had to do in
the half-hour preceding dinner was to look out for the most intelligent,
gentleman-like-looking Englishman I could, to secure a place by him....

You will ask who I met. I protest to you that I went and returned
without being able to learn more than that the secretary's name was
Bidwell, and that one other person in company was a Mr. Martin, who had
been agent for prisoners; of the rest I knew nothing, not even of my
neighbour; birth, parentage, and education were alike involved in the
cloud of diplomatic mystery which seemed to impend heavily over this
mansion, and when my neighbour asked me, or I asked him, the names of
any person present the answer was mutual--"I don't know." Sir Charles
sat in the centre with a gold-coated Don on each side of him, with whom
he might have whispered, for though I sat within two of his Excellency,
I never heard the sound of his voice: however, my opinion may not
coincide with all that pass from Calais to Dover, as I heard one man
remark to another that his countenance was very pleasing, to which was
added in reply, "and he is a very sensible man." These things may be,
but I never met with one more perfect in the art of concealing his
talents.

Now for the Jardin des Plantes and its lectures. This same Jardin is a
large space appropriated to Botanical pursuits, public walks,
menageries, museums, &c. There you see Bears and Lions and, in fact, the
finest collection of Birds and Beasts alive, some in little paddocks,
others in clean and airy dens. But this is the least part of this
delightful establishment; its museums and cabinets are like the Louvre,
the finest collection in the world. Everything is arranged in such order
that it is almost impossible to see it without feeling a love of
science; here the mineralogist, geologist, naturalist, entomologist may
each pursue his favourite studies unmolested. Here, as everywhere else,
the utmost liberality is shewn to all, but to Englishmen particularly,
your country is your passport. Like the