Finished my task at night.

October 5.—­I was thinking this morning that my time glided away in a singularly monotonous manner, like one of those dark grey days which neither promise sunshine nor threaten rain; too melancholy for enjoyment, too tranquil for repining.  But this day has brought a change which somewhat shakes my philosophy.  I find by a letter from J. Gibson that I may go to London without danger, and if I may, I in a manner must, to examine the papers in the Secretary of State’s office about Bon. when at Saint Helena.  The opportunity having been offered must be accepted, and yet I had much rather stay at home.  Even the prospect of seeing Sophia and Lockhart must be mingled with pain, yet this is foolish too.  Lady Hamilton[350] writes me that Pozzo di Borgo,[351] the Russian Minister at Paris, is willing to communicate to me some particulars of Bonaparte’s early life.  Query—­might I not go on there?  In for a penny, in for a pound.  I intend to take Anne with me, and the pleasure will be great to her, who deserves much at my hand.

October 6.—­Charles and his friend Surtees left us this morning.

Went to see Colonel Thornhill’s hawks fly.  Some part of the amusement is very beautiful, particularly the first flight of the hawks, when they sweep so beautifully round the company, jingling their bells from time to time, and throwing themselves into the most elegant positions as they gaze about for their prey.  But I do not wonder that the impatience of modern times has renounced this expensive and precarious mode of sporting.  The hawks are liable to various misfortunes, and are besides addicted to fly away; one of ours was fairly lost for the day, and one or two went off without permission, but returned.  We killed a crow and frightened a snipe.  There are, however, ladies and gentlemen enough to make a gallant show on the top of Mintlaw Kipps.  The falconer made a fine figure—­a handsome and active young fellow with the falcon on his wrist.  The Colonel was most courteous, and named a hawk after me, which was a compliment.  The hawks are not named till they have merited that distinction.  I walked about six miles and was not fatigued.

There dined with us Colonel Thornhill, Clifton, young Whytbank, Spencer Stanhope, and his brother, with Miss Tod and my old friend Locker,[352] Secretary to Greenwich Hospital.  We did not break up the party till one in the morning, and were very well amused.

October 7.—­A weary day of rain.  Locker and I chatted from time to time, and I wrought not at Boney, but upon the prose works, of which I will have a volume ready to send in on Monday.  I got a letter from John Gibson, with an offer by Longman for Napoleon of ten thousand five hundred guineas,[353] which I have advised them to accept.  Also I hear there is some doubt of my getting to London, from the indecision of these foolish Londoners.