Then we went into the House of Commons. There is a kind of latticed
gallery to which ladies are admitted - a charming little oriental
rookery. There we found the Duchess of Argyle and others. Lord
Carlisle afterwards joined us, and we went all over the house,
examining the frescoes, looking into closets, tea rooms, libraries,
smoking rooms, committee rooms, and all, till I was thoroughly
initiated. The terrace that skirts the Thames is magnificent. I
inquired if any but members might enjoy it. No; it was only for
statesmen; our short promenade there was, therefore, an act of grace.
On the whole, when this Parliament House shall have gathered the dust
of two hundred years, - when Victoria's reign is among the
myths, - future generations will then venerate this building as one of
the rare creations of old masters, and declare that no modern
structure can ever equal it.
The next day, at three o'clock, I went to Miss Greenfield's first
public morning concert, a bill of which I send you. She comes out
under the patronage of all the great names, you observe. Lady
Hatherton was there, and the Duchess of Sutherland, with all her
daughters.
Miss Greenfield did very well, and was heard with indulgence, though
surrounded by artists who had enjoyed what she had not - a life's
training. 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.
