I must, however, confess that in the next piece, in which Frederick the Great plays the principal part, there was not the same intimate knowledge and perfect imitation of foreign costume; both the king and his suite seemed to have borrowed their wardrobe from that of a pantomime. Zieten presented himself in a high grenadier's cap, and Seydlitz appeared in locks 'a là Murat,' and with as many orders as that royal actor used to wear; a profusion of which were by no means the fashion in Frederick's day, nor were they then worn as mere appendages of the toilet. _December 2nd._ I often dine at Prince E----'s, who exhibits a perfect model to 'diplomates' how dignified 'représentation' may be combined with agreeable facile manners; and how a man may please every body if he understands the art of placing himself 'à sa portée,' yet without suffering his own dignity to be forgotten for an instant:--'un vrai Seigneur,'--such as are every day becoming rarer. Never too did a foreigner _succeed_ so perfectly in England; and yet, most assuredly, without the slightest concession to English arrogance. This implies infinite tact; the lighter, more vivacious character of a South German; and the most astute intellect concealed beneath the most unpretending 'bonhommie;' the whole backed and set off by a great name and a splendid fortune. The other members of the diplomatic corps, with few exceptions, are left by him quite in the back-ground, and most of the plenipotentiaries here disappear completely in the crowd. Among the ambassadors there is, however, one of the female sex who plays a great part * * * But more of this another time. I entered upon the subject of Diplomates, only for the sake of repeating to you a very pretty 'bon mot' of one of them whom you know. I heard it to-day at dinner. Count H---- was ambassador at a German court renowned for its economy ('pour ne pas dire mesquinerie,') and on some solemn occasion received a snuff-box with the portrait of the sovereign; which, however, was set round with very small, paltry diamonds. Shortly afterwards, one of his colleagues asked him to show him his present. "Vous ne trouverez pas le portrait ressemblant," said the Count, giving him the snuff-box,--"mais les diamants." I occasionally see, with great satisfaction, the venerable Elliot, who, together with the dry but very interesting Lord St. Helens, whom Ségur so often mentions in his Memoirs, belongs to the 'Doyens' of English diplomacy, and still dwells with extraordinary pleasure on the recollection of his residence at Dresden. He has several very charming daughters, and finds it difficult to live in a style befitting his rank, for his long services have not been rewarded with English liberality.[29]