November 19.—­Saw this morning Duke of Wellington and Duke of York; the former so communicative that I regretted extremely the length of time,[414] but have agreed on a correspondence with him. Trop d’honneur pour moi.  The Duke of York saw me by appointment.  He seems still mending, and spoke of state affairs as a high Tory.  Were his health good, his spirit is as strong as ever.  H.R.H. has a devout horror of the liberals.  Having the Duke of Wellington, the Chancellor, and (perhaps) a still greater person on his side, he might make a great fight when they split, as split they will.  But Canning, Huskisson, and a mitigated party of Liberaux will probably beat them.  Canning’s will and eloquence are almost irresistible.  But then the Church, justly alarmed for their property, which is plainly struck at, and the bulk of the landed interest, will scarce brook a mild infusion of Whiggery into the Administration.  Well, time will show.

We visited our friends Peel, Lord Gwydyr, Arbuthnot, etc., and left our tickets of adieu.  In no instance, during my former visits to London, did I ever meet with such general attention and respect on all sides.

Lady Louisa Stuart dined—­also Wright and Mr. and Mrs. Christie.  Dr. and Mrs. Hughes came in the evening; so ended pleasantly our last night in London.

[Oxford,] November 20.—­Left London after a comfortable breakfast, and an adieu to the Lockhart family.  If I had had but comfortable hopes of their poor, pale, prostrate child, so clever and so interesting, I should have parted easily on this occasion, but these misgivings overcloud the prospect.  We reached Oxford by six o’clock, and found Charles and his friend young Surtees waiting for us, with a good fire in the chimney, and a good dinner ready to be placed on the table.  We had struggled through a cold, sulky, drizzly day, which deprived of all charms even the beautiful country near Henley.  So we came from cold and darkness into light and warmth and society. N.B.—­We had neither daylight nor moonlight to see the view of Oxford from the Maudlin Bridge, which I used to think one of the most beautiful in the world.

Upon finance I must note that the expense of travelling has mounted high.  I am too old to rough it, and scrub it, nor could I have saved fifty pounds by doing so.  I have gained, however, in health, spirits, in a new stock of ideas, new combinations, and new views.  My self-consequence is raised, I hope not unduly, by the many flattering circumstances attending my reception in the two capitals, and I feel confident in proportion.  In Scotland I shall find time for labour and for economy.