At the George I felt myself apparently amid lavish luxury! Yet even carpets were almost unknown in English bedrooms during the early part of George III.'s reign; but it seemed to me that a comfortable home, a blazing sea-coal fire, soft hearthrugs, warm curtains, a smoking dinner and singing tea-urn, a pretty English wife, with her true domestic love (and a most becoming dress of course), to do the honours of one's house and table, a tranquil life, and all that kind of thing, were a thousand times better than pipeclay and glory, after all; better than turning out by drumbeat or bugle-call in a dark rainy morning, to march fasting, to shoot or be shot at; better than to hear the winter sleet rattling on the wet tent, or to endure it in the wetter bivouac; and so indeed thought I, Basil Gauntlet, when on that night of December I tucked myself cosily in a warm bed at the George in Pall Mall, and went off to sleep, with the "drowsy hum" of London in my ears. Next day I presented my credentials at the Horse Guards, obtained six months' leave of absence, and was informed that there would be a royal drawing-room at Kensington Palace in two days after; and the commander-in-chief kindly added that he would arrange for my presentation by his Grace the Duke of Argyle, who was full colonel of my own Regiment, and was then in town. So, for two days I was free to roam about the streets in search of amusement. Ignorant of London, I stumbled first into the wooden house in Marylebonefields, and saw a couple of sword-players slashing each other with rapiers on a platform to the sound of French horns and a tenor drum; then followed a game at quarterstaff, while the boxes and galleries were crowded by men of the first position, betting-book in hand, sword at side, and the hat cocked knowingly over the right eye. From these I rambled to Don Saltero's Museum, to see his stuffed rhinoceroses, tigers, and monsters; thence to an auction in Cornhill, where, among other effects of a bankrupt shipbroker, a young negro woman was put up to sale, and bought by a Newmarket gentleman for 32_l_. As a soldier I could not resist going to see the home battalions of the Foot Guards exercised at the King's Mews, near Charing Cross. Then I dined at a chocolate-house, summoned a chair, and was swung off at a trot to the opera, where I heard one of Mr. Handel's performances hissed down, as quite unequal to the "Beggar's Opera." Next day I found a card waiting me at my hotel. The Duke expected me to dine with him on that day, if not otherwise engaged. I found his Grace and the Duchess waiting to receive me with great kindness and affability. He was John Campbell of Mamore, who had lately succeeded to the dukedom, after long service in Flanders and Germany; he was now a Lieutenant-general, Governor of Limerick, and a Scottish representative Peer; she was Mary, daughter of John, Lord Bellenden of Auchinoule, a handsome and stately woman, but now well up in years.