I do not know whether I have mentioned that the handsomest man I have
seen in England was a young footman of Mr. Heywood's. In his rich
livery, he was a perfect Joseph Andrews.
In my Romance, the original emigrant to America may have carried away
with him a family secret, whereby it was in his power, had he so chosen,
to have brought about the ruin of the family. This secret he transmits
to his American progeny, by whom it is inherited throughout all the
intervening generations. At last, the hero of the Romance comes to
England, and finds, that, by means of this secret, he still has it in his
power to procure the downfall of the family. It would be something
similar to the story of Meleager, whose fate depended on the firebrand
that his mother had snatched from the flames.
April 24th.--On Saturday I was present at a dejeuner on board the Donald
McKay; the principal guest being Mr. Layard, M. P. There were several
hundred people, quite filling the between decks of the ship, which was
converted into a saloon for the occasion. I sat next to Mr. Layard, at
the head of the table, and so had a good opportunity of seeing and
getting acquainted with him. He is a man in early middle age,--of middle
stature, with an open, frank, intelligent, kindly face. His forehead is
not expansive, but is prominent in the perceptive regions, and retreats a
good deal. His mouth is full,--I liked him from the first. He was very
kind and complimentary to me, and made me promise to go and see him in
London.
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