I Could Not But Think What A Loss To Art Is The Enslaving Of
A Race Which Might Produce So Much Musical Talent.
Had she had culture
equal to her voice and ear, _no_ singer of any country could have
surpassed her.
There could even be associations of poetry thrown
around the dusky hue of her brow were it associated with the triumphs
of art.
After concert, the Duchess of S. invited Lady H. and myself to
Stafford House. We took tea in the green library. Lady C. Campbell
was there, and her Grace of Argyle. After tea I saw the Duchess of S.
a little while alone in her boudoir, and took my leave then and there
of one as good and true-hearted as beautiful and noble.
The next day I lunched with Mrs. Malcolm, daughter-in-law of your
favorite traveller, Sir John Malcolm, of Persian memory. You should
have been there. The house is a cabinet of Persian curiosities. There
was the original of the picture of the King of Persia in Ker Porter's
Travels. It was given to Sir John by the monarch himself. There were
also two daggers which the king presented with his own hand. I think
Sir John must somehow have mesmerized him. Then Captain M. showed me
sketches of his father's country house in the Himalaya Mountains:
think of that! The Alps are commonplace; but a country seat in the
Himalaya Mountains is something worth speaking of. There were two
bricks from Babylon, and other curiosities innumerable.
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