a lady having "voided her saddle," which would certainly
sound extraordinary at Apothecaries' Hall. Well, well, Rose carries a
dirk too.[370] The morning was too dark for Westminster Abbey, which we
had projected.

I went to the Foreign Office, and am put by Mr. Wilmot Horton into the
hands of a confidential clerk, Mr. Smith, who promises access to
everything. Then saw Croker, who gave me a bundle of documents. Sir
George Cockburn promises his despatches and journal. In short, I have
ample prospect of materials.

Dined with Mrs. Coutts. Tragi-comic distress of my good friend on the
marriage of her presumptive heir with a daughter of Lucien Bonaparte.

_October_ 20.--Commanded down to pass a day at Windsor. This is very
kind of His Majesty.

At breakfast, Crofton Croker, author of the _Irish Fairy Tales_--little
as a dwarf, keen-eyed as a hawk, and of very prepossessing manners.
Something like Tom Moore. There were also Terry, Allan Cunningham,
Newton, and others. Now I must go to work.

Went down to Windsor, or rather to the Lodge in the Forest, which,
though ridiculed by connoisseurs, seems to be no bad specimen of a royal
retirement, and is delightfully situated. A kind of cottage ornee--too
large perhaps for the style--but yet so managed that in the walks you
only see parts of it at once, and these well composed and grouping with
immense trees. His Majesty received me with the same mixture of kindness
and courtesy which has always distinguished his conduct towards me.
There was no company beside the royal retinue--Lady C[onyngham], her
daughter, and two or three other ladies. After we left table, there was
excellent music by the Royal Band, who lay ambushed in a green-house
adjoining the apartment. The King made me sit beside him and talk a
great deal--_too much_, perhaps--for he has the art of raising one's
spirits, and making you forget the _retenue_ which is prudent
everywhere, especially at court. But he converses himself with so much
ease and elegance, that you lose thoughts of the prince in admiring the
well-bred and accomplished gentleman. He is, in many respects, the model
of a British monarch--has little inclination to try experiments on
government otherwise than through his ministers--sincerely, I believe,
desires the good of his subjects, is kind toward the distressed, and
moves and speaks "every inch a king."[371] I am sure such a man is
fitter for us than one who would long to head armies, or be per