From Livermere to Riddlesworth last Monday, and home to-day. This morning I learnt (by reading it in the 'Globe') the sudden death of Lord Holland, after a few hours' illness, whom I left not a fortnight ago in his usual health, and likely to live many years.[9] There did not, probably, exist an individual whose loss will be more sincerely lamented and severely felt than his. Never was popularity so great and so general, and his death will produce a social revolution, utterly extinguishing not only the most brilliant, but the only great house of reception and constant society in England. His marvellous social qualities, imperturbable temper, unflagging vivacity and spirit, his inexhaustible fund of anecdote, extensive information, sprightly wit, with universal toleration and urbanity, inspired all who approached him with the keenest taste for his company, and those who lived with him in intimacy with the warmest regard for his person. This event may be said with perfect truth to 'eclipse the gaiety of nations,' for besides being an irreparable loss to the world at large, it turns adrift, as it were, the innumerable _habitues_ who, according to their different degrees of intimacy, or the accidents of their social habits, made Holland House their regular and constant resort. It is impossible to overrate the privation, the blank, which it will make to the old friends and associates, political and personal, to whom Holland House has always been open like a home, and there cannot be a sadder sight than to see the curtain suddenly fall upon a scene so brilliant and apparently prosperous, and the light which for nearly half a century has adorned and cheered the world, thus suddenly and for ever extinguished. Although I did not rank among the old and intimate friends of Holland House, I came among the first of the second class of those who were always welcome, passed much of my time there, and have been continually treated with the greatest cordiality and kindness, and I partake largely and sincerely of the regret that must be so deep and universal. [9] Lord Holland said, just before he died, to the page, 'Edgar, these Syrian affairs will be too much for me. Mehemet Ali will kill me.' Downham, October 24th, 1840 {p.341} I have a letter from Clarendon this morning from Windsor, overwhelmed with the news of Lord Holland's death (which he had just received)