I Am Afraid We Are The Greatest Diners-Out In
London, But We Are Brought Into Contact A Great Deal With The
Literary And Parliamentary People, Which Our Colleagues Know Little
About, As Also With The Clergy And The Judges.
I should not be
willing to make it the habit of my life, but it is time not misspent
during the years of our abode here.
. . . The good old Archbishop of
York is dead, and I am glad I paid my visit to him when I did. Mr.
Rogers has paid me a long visit to-day and gave me all the
particulars of his death. It was a subject I should not have
introduced, for of that knot of intimate friends, Mr. Grenville, the
Archbishop, and himself, he is now all that remains.
November 28th
. . . On Monday evening I went without Mr. Bancroft to a little
party at Mrs. Lyell's, where I was introduced to Mrs. Somerville.
She has resided for the last nine years abroad, chiefly at Venice,
but has now come to London and taken a house very near us. . . . Her
daughter told me that nothing could exceed the ease and simplicity
with which her literary occupations were carried on. She is just
publishing a book upon Natural Geography without regard to political
boundaries. She writes principally before she rises in the morning
on a little piece of board, with her inkstand on a table by her
side. After she leaves her room she is as much at leisure as other
people, but if an idea strikes her she takes her little board into a
corner or window and writes quietly for a short time and returns to
join the circle.
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