November 12.—­Went to sit to Sir T.L. to finish the picture for his Majesty, which every one says is a very fine one.  I think so myself; and wonder how Sir Thomas has made so much out of an old weather-beaten block.  But I believe the hard features of old Dons like myself are more within the compass of the artist’s skill than the lovely face and delicate complexion of females.  Came home after a heavy shower.  I had a long conversation about ------ with Lockhart.  All that was whispered is true—­a sign how much better our domestics are acquainted with the private affairs of our neighbours than we are.  A dreadful tale of incest and seduction, and nearly of blood also—­horrible beyond expression in its complications and events—­“And yet the end is not;”—­and this man was amiable, and seemed the soul of honour—­laughed, too, and was the soul of society.  It is a mercy our own thoughts are concealed from each other.  Oh! if, at our social table, we could see what passes in each bosom around, we would seek dens and caverns to shun human society!  To see the projector trembling for his falling speculations; the voluptuary rueing the event of his debauchery; the miser wearing out his soul for the loss of a guinea—­all—­all bent upon vain hopes and vainer regrets—­we should not need to go to the hall of the Caliph Vathek to see men’s hearts broiling under their black veils.[402] Lord keep us from all temptation, for we cannot be our own shepherd!

We dined to-day at Lady Stafford’s [at West-hill].[403] Lord S. looks very poorly, but better than I expected.  No company, excepting Sam Rogers and Mr. Grenville,[404]—­the latter is better known by the name of Tom Grenville—­a very amiable and accomplished man, whom I knew better about twenty years since.  Age has touched him, as it has doubtless affected me.  The great lady received us with the most cordial kindness, and expressed herself, I am sure, sincerely, desirous to be of service to Sophia.

November 13.—­I consider Charles’s business as settled by a private intimation which I had to that effect from Sir W.K.; so I need negotiate no further, but wait the event.  Breakfasted at home, and somebody with us, but the whirl of visits so great that I have already forgot the party.  Lockhart and I dined at an official person’s, where there was a little too much of that sort of flippant wit, or rather smartness, which becomes the parochial Joe Miller of boards and offices.  You must not be grave, because it might lead to improper discussions; and to laugh without a joke is a hard task.  Your professed wags are treasures to this species of company.  Gil Blas was right in censuring the literary society of his friend Fabricio; but nevertheless one or two of the mess would greatly have improved the conversation of his Commis.