At the reception at Sir Joseph Banks's house last night the most interesting object of the evening was a sword come down from heaven on purpose for the Emperor! Let the Prince Regent and his garters and his orders, and the merchants and the aldermen and everybody hide their diminished heads! What are they and their gifts to the Philosophers'? This is literally a sword made by Sowerby from the iron from some meteoric stones lately fallen--of course in honour of the Emperor. There is an inscription on it something to this effect, but not so neat as the subject demanded, and it is to be presented to Alexander--who does not deserve it, by the by, for having entirely neglected Sir Joseph amongst all the great sights and great men, which has rather mortified the poor old man. LONDON, _Monday night_. They are off, and in spite of all my friends' predictions to the contrary, I am here. Edward went this morning to Portsmouth on his way to Havre, but the Havre packet is employed in pleasuring people up and down to see the ships. Not a bed is to be had in the place, so he has secured his berth in the packet, if he can find her, and get on board at night after her morning's excursions. Standing room is to be had in the streets for three shillings; seats are putting up in and for two miles out of the town; all the laurels cut down to stick upon poles; in short, everybody is madder there than in London. Can the English ever be called cool and phlegmatic again? It is really a pity some metaphysicianising philosopher is not here to observe, describe, and theorise on the extraordinary symptoms and effects of enthusiasm, curiosity, insanity--I am sure I do not know what to call it--en masse. One should have supposed that the great objects would have swallowed up the little ones. No such thing! they have only made the appetite for them more ravenous. The mob got hold of Lord Hill[37] in the Park at the review, and did literally pull his coat and his belt to pieces. He snatched off his Order of the Bath, and gave it to Major Churchill, who put it in the holster of his saddle, where he preserved it from the mob only by drawing his sword and declaring he would cut any man's hand off who touched it. Some kissed his sword, his boots, his spurs, or anything they could touch; they pulled hair out of his horse's tail, and one butcher's boy who arrived at the happiness of shaking his hand, they chaired, exclaiming, "This is the man who has shaken hands with Lord Hill!" At last they tore his sword off by breaking the belt and then handed it round from one to another to be kissed. My regret at not having been at White's is stronger than my desire to go was; it must have been the most splendid and interesting sight one could ever hope to see. * * * * * On Friday, June 27th, Edward Stanley and Edward Leycester finally set off and sailed from Portsmouth, all gay with festivities in honour of the Allied Sovereigns.