October 23.—­Sam Rogers and Moore breakfasted here, and we were very merry fellows.  Moore seemed disposed to go to France with us.  I visited the Admiralty, and got Sir George Cockburn’s journal, which is valuable.[374] Also visited Lady Elizabeth and Sir Charles Stewart.  My heart warmed to the former, on account of the old Balcarres connection.  Sir Charles and she were very kind and communicative.  I foresee I will be embarrassed with more communications than I can well use or trust to, coloured as they must be by the passions of those who make them.  Thus I have a statement from the Duchess d’Escars, to which the Bonapartists would, I dare say, give no credit.  If Talleyrand, for example, could be communicative, he must have ten thousand reasons for perverting the truth, and yet a person receiving a direct communication from him would be almost barred from disputing it.

    “Sing tantararara, rogues all.”

We dined at the Residentiary-house with good Dr. Hughes,[375] Allan Cunningham, Sir Thomas Lawrence, and young Mr. Hughes.  Thomas Pringle[376] is returned from the Cape, and called in my absence.  He might have done well there, could he have scoured his brain of politics, but he must needs publish a Whig journal at the Cape of Good Hope!  He is a worthy creature, but conceited withal—­hinc illae lachrymae. He brought me some antlers and a skin, in addition to others he had sent to Abbotsford four years since.  Crofton Croker made me a present of a small box of curious Irish antiquities containing a gold fibula, etc. etc.

October 24—­Laboured in the morning.  At breakfast Dr. Holland[377] and Cohen, whom they now call Palgrave,[378] a mutation of names which confused my recollections.  Item, Moore.  I worked at the Colonial Office pretty hard.  Dined with Mr. Wilmot Horton and his beautiful wife, the original of the “She walks in Beauty,” etc., of poor Byron.

The conversation is seldom excellent among official people.  So many topics are what Otaheitians call taboo.  We hunted down a pun or two, which were turned out, like the stag at the Epping Hunt, for the pursuit of all and sundry.  Came home early, and was in bed by eleven.

October 25.—­Good Mr. Wilson[379] and his wife at breakfast; also Sir Thomas Lawrence.  Locker[380] came in afterwards, and made a proposal to me to give up his intended Life of George III. in my favour on cause shown.  I declined the proposal, not being of opinion that my genius lies that way, and not relishing hunting in couples.  Afterwards went to the Colonial Office, and had Robert Hay’s assistance in my inquiries; then to the French Ambassador for my passports.  Picked up Sotheby, who endeavoured to saddle me for a review of his polyglot Virgil.  I fear I shall scarce convince him that I know nothing of the Latin lingo.  Sir R.H.  Inglis, Richard Sharp, and other friends called.  We dined at Miss Dumergue’s, and spent a part of our soiree at Lydia White’s.  To-morrow,