On Tuesday last dined with Rogers,--Madame de Stael, Mackintosh,
Sheridan, Erskine [1], and Payne Knight, Lady Donegal, and Miss R.
there. Sheridan told a very good story of himself and Madame de
Recamier's handkerchief; Erskine a few stories of himself only. _She_ is
going to write a big book about England, she says;--I believe her. Asked
by her how I liked Miss Edgeworth's thing, called _Patronage_ [2], and
answered (very sincerely) that I thought it very bad for _her_, and
worse than any of the others. Afterwards thought it possible Lady
Donegal [3], being Irish, might be a patroness of Miss Edgeworth, and
was rather sorry for my opinion, as I hate putting people into fusses,
either with themselves or their favourites; it looks as if one did it on
purpose. The party went off very well, and the fish was very much to my
gusto. But we got up too soon after the women; and Mrs. Corinne always
lingers so long after dinner that we wish her in--the drawing-room.
To-day Campbell called, and while sitting here in came Merivale [4].
During our colloquy, C. (ignorant that Merivale was the writer) abused
the "mawkishness of the _Quarterly Review_ of Grimm's _Correspondence_."
I (knowing the secret) changed the conversation as soon as I could; and
C. went away, quite convinced of having made the most favourable
impression on his new acquaintance. Merivale is luckily a very
good-natured fellow, or God he knows what might have been engendered
from such a malaprop.
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