ed of dying in 'the last ditch'
of his dingy country. It is lucky I can swim, or I suppose I should not
well weather the first. But let us see. I have heard hyaenas and jackalls
in the ruins of Asia; and bull-frogs in the marshes; besides wolves and
angry Mussulmans. Now, I should like to listen to the shout of a free
Dutchman.

"Alla! Viva! For ever! Hourra! Huzza!--which is the most rational or
musical of these cries? 'Orange Boven,' according to the Morning Post.

"Wednesday, 24.

"No dreams last night of the dead nor the living, so--I am 'firm as the
marble, founded as the rock,' till the next earthquake.

"Ward's dinner went off well. There was not a disagreeable person
there--unless _I_ offended any body, which I am sure I could not by
contradiction, for I said little, and opposed nothing. Sharpe (a man of
elegant mind, and who has lived much with the best--Fox, Horne Tooke,
Windham, Fitzpatrick, and all the agitators of other times and tongues,)
told us the particulars of his last interview with Windham, a few days
before the fatal operation which sent 'that gallant spirit to aspire the
skies.' Windham,--the first in one department of oratory and talent,
whose only fault was his refinement beyond the intellect of half his
hearers,--Windham, half his life an active participator in the events of
the earth, and one of those who governed nations,--_he_ regretted, and
dwelt much on that regret, that 'he had not entirely devoted himself to
literature and science!!!' His mind certainly would have carried him to
eminence there, as elsewhere;--but I cannot comprehend what debility of
that mind could suggest such a wish. I, who have heard him, cannot
regret any thing but that I shall never hear him again. What! would he
have been a plodder? a metaphysician?--perhaps a rhymer? a scribbler?
Such an exchange must have been suggested by illness. But he is gone,
and Time 'shall not look upon his like again.'

"I am tremendously in arrear with my letters,--except to * *, and to her
my thoughts overpower me:--my words never compass them. To Lady
Melbourne I write with most pleasure--and her answers, so sensible, so
_tactique_--I never met with half her talent. If she had been a few
years younger, what a fool she would have made of me, had she thought it
worth her while,--and I should have lost a valuable and most agreeable
friend. Mem. a mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree,
you are lovers; and, when it i