Change of scene seems to become more and more necessary to me, especially as there is little here to amuse or interest. After rain, sunshine:--forward then,--and do you rouse me by your letters. Let them be cheering and invigorating by their own cheerfulness, for that is more important to me than all the intelligence, bad or good, they can contain. Nothing is so terrible to my imagination as to think of you, at a distance, distressed or out of spirits. It is so great an art to suffer triumphantly--like a martyr; and it is practicable when one suffers innocently, or for love of another. You, my dearest Julia, have known few other sufferings than these. Of myself I cannot speak so proudly. _July 23rd._ This morning I visited Bedlam. Nowhere are madmen--confined ones, that is--better lodged. There is a pleasure-ground before the door of the palace, and nothing can be cleaner and more conveniently fitted up than the interior. As I entered the women's gallery, conducted by a very pretty young girl, who officiated as keeper, one of the patients, a woman of about thirty, looked at me for a long time very attentively,--then suddenly coming up to me she said, "You are a foreigner: I know you, Prince! Why did you not put on your uniform to come to see me? that would have become you better. Ah, how handsome Charles used to look in his!" You may imagine my painful astonishment. "Poor thing!" said my guide, "she was seduced by some foreign prince, and every foreigner she sees she fancies is one. Sometimes she cries the whole day long, and will let nobody go near her: after that she is quite sensible again for weeks. She was very pretty once, but fretting has spoiled all her beauty."