armour, &c., and her musical instruments were as she had left them, and everything wore an appearance of comfort which is seldom seen in the midst of such magnificence. Through folding doors you enter into a smaller room hung with pictures. C. was her chapel; before a little unostentatious altar, which had every appearance of having daily witnessed her devotions, was a beautiful Raphael; the walls were hung with seven small Scripture subjects by Poussin. I would have given a great deal to have been her invisible observer in this sacred retirement. She must have been alone, for it was scarcely large enough to admit priest or attendant. D. was a room in which she breakfasted, during which time music was generally performed in B. From E. was a fine view of the Aqueduct of Marly, and E. was the way to the Garden, which she had fitted up in the English style. I have not time to enter into detail of these or her greenhouses. She was fond of Society and patronised the Arts. She allowed Artists to sit at leisure in her gallery to copy pictures, and conversed with them a great deal. She did an infinity of good to all within her reach and was beloved by all. Her death was very sudden; she had complained of a sore throat, but not sufficiently to confine her to her room. On a certain Wednesday or Thursday she was in her Park in high spirits, showing it to the Emperor Alexander and King of Prussia; being rather heated she drank some iced water; in the evening she was worse, on Sunday she was dead, sensible to the last; talked of death, seemed perfectly resigned--to use the words of a French lady, who told me many interesting particulars, "sa mort était très chrétienne." They were busied in packing pictures and making catalogues, but I believe there is no fear of dismantling the house, as Eugène Beauharnais[57] and the children are to have it in conformity to her will.[58] I have seen few things since my departure from England which have interested me more than Malmaison, and I could almost fancy that her statue, which is that of a pensive female, with the chin resting on the hand, was her ghost ruminating over the extraordinary events which had recently occurred, and which she had quitted for ever. You will see Malmaison in my sketch-book, as well as the Castle of Vincennes, which is as picturesque and imposing as it is interesting, from the circumstances attending the Duke d'Enghien's[59] death. It seems this event was known at Paris the next day and spoken of with as much freedom as the despotic government of Paris would admit....