Mrs. Coutts, with the Duke of St. Albans and Lady Charlotte Beauclerk, called to take leave of us.  When at Abbotsford his suit throve but coldly.  She made me, I believe, her confidant in sincerity.[35] She had refused him twice, and decidedly.  He was merely on the footing of friendship.  I urged it was akin to love.  She allowed she might marry the Duke, only she had at present not the least intention that way.  Is this frank admission more favourable for the Duke than an absolute protestation against the possibility of such a marriage?  I think not.  It is the fashion to attend Mrs. Coutts’ parties and to abuse her.  I have always found her a kind, friendly woman, without either affectation or insolence in the display of her wealth, and most willing to do good if the means be shown to her.  She can be very entertaining too, as she speaks without scruple of her stage life.  So much wealth can hardly be enjoyed without some ostentation.  But what then?  If the Duke marries her, he ensures an immense fortune; if she marries him, she has the first rank.  If he marries a woman older than himself by twenty years, she marries a man younger in wit by twenty degrees.  I do not think he will dilapidate her fortune—­he seems quiet and gentle.  I do not think that she will abuse his softness—­of disposition, shall I say, or of heart?  The disparity of ages concerns no one but themselves; so they have my consent to marry, if they can get each other’s.  Just as this is written, enter my Lord of St. Albans and Lady Charlotte, to beg I would recommend a book of sermons to Mrs. Coutts.  Much obliged for her good opinion:  recommended Logan’s[36]—­one poet should always speak for another.  The mission, I suppose, was a little display on the part of good Mrs. Coutts of authority over her high aristocratic suitor.  I do not suspect her of turning devote, and retract my consent given as above, unless she remains “lively, brisk, and jolly."[37]

Dined quiet with wife and daughter.  R[obert] Cadell looked in in the evening on business.

I here register my purpose to practise economics.  I have little temptation to do otherwise.  Abbotsford is all that I can make it, and too large for the property; so I resolve—­

No more building;

No purchases of land till times are quite safe;

No buying books or expensive trifles—­I mean to any extent; and

Clearing off encumbrances, with the returns of this year’s labour;—­

Which resolutions, with health and my habits of industry, will make me “sleep in spite of thunder.”

After all, it is hard that the vagabond stock-jobbing Jews should, for their own purposes, make such a shake of credit as now exists in London, and menace the credit of men trading on sure funds like H[urst] and R[obinson].  It is just like a set of pickpockets, who raise a mob, in which honest folks are knocked down and plundered, that they may pillage safely in the midst of the confusion they have excited.