"Yes, it is very true: with a thousand good qualities his manner is very objectionable, even with those he likes best: it is his misfortune, and he cannot help it; but those who know him well will pardon it." This candid admission of what could not be refuted, checked all further censure at the moment, whereas an injudicious defence would have lengthened it; and I heard some of the individuals then present assert, a few days subsequently, that Lord ---- was not, after all, by any means to be disliked: for that his manners were equally objectionable even with his most esteemed friends, and consequently meant nothing uncivil to strangers. I tried this soothing system the other day in defence of ----, when a whole circle were attacking him for his rude habit of contradicting, by asserting, with a grave face, that he only contradicted those whose talents he suspected, in order that he might draw them out in discussion. ---- came in soon after, and it was positively amusing to observe how much better people bore his contradiction. Madame ---- only smiled when, having asserted that it was a remarkably fine day, he declared it to be abominable. The Duc de ---- looked gracious when, having repeated some political news, ---- said he could prove the contrary to be the fact; and the Comtesse de ---- looked archly round when, having extravagantly praised a new novel, he pronounced that it was the worst of all the bad ones of the author. ---- will become a popular man, and have to thank me for it. How angry would he be if he knew the service I have rendered him, and how quickly would he contradict all I said in his favour! ---- reminds me of the Englishman of whom it was said, that so great was his love of contradiction, that when the hour of the night and state of the weather were announced by the watchman beneath his window, he used to get out of bed and raise both his casement and his voice to protest against the accuracy of the statement. Read _Pelham_; commenced it yesterday, and concluded it to-day. It is a new style of novel, and, like all that is very clever, will lead to many copyists. The writer possesses a felicitous fluency of language, profound and just thoughts, and a knowledge of the world rarely acquired at his age, for I am told he is a very young man. This work combines pointed and pungent satire on the follies of society, a deep vein of elevated sentiment, and a train of philosophical thinking, seldom, if ever, allied to the tenderness which pierces through the sentimental part. The opening reminded me of that of _Anastatius_, without being in the slightest degree an imitation; and many of the passages recalled Voltaire, by their wit and terseness. I, who don't like reading novels, heard so much in favour of this one--for all Paris talk of it--that I broke through a resolution formed since I read the dull book of ----, to read no more; and I am glad I did so, for this clever book has greatly interested me.