I should have gone to the Club to-day, but Sir James Mackintosh had mistaken the day. I was glad of it, so stayed at home.
It is written that nothing shall flourish under my shadow—the Ballantynes, Terry, Nelson, Weber, all came to distress. Nature has written on my brow, “Your shade shall be broad, but there shall be no protection derived from it to aught you favour.”
Sat and smoked and grumbled with Lockhart.
April 16.—We dined at Dr. Young’s; saw Captain Parry, a handsome and pleasant man. In the evening at Mr. Cunliffe’s, where I met sundry old friends—grown older.
April 17.—Made up my “Gurnal,” which had fallen something behind. In this phantasmagorial place the objects of the day come and depart like shadows.[166] Made calls. Gave [C.K.] Sharpe’s memorial to Lord Leveson Gower. Went to Murray’s, where I met a Mr. Jacob, a great economist. He is proposing a mode of supporting the poor, by compelling them to labour by military force, and under a species of military discipline. I see no objection to it, only it will make a rebellion to a certainty; and the tribes of Jacob will certainly cut Jacob’s throat.[167]
Canning’s conversion from popular opinions was strangely brought round. While he was studying at the Temple, and rather entertaining revolutionary opinions, Godwin sent to say that he was coming to breakfast with him, to speak on a subject of the highest importance. Canning knew little of him, but received his visit, and learned to his astonishment, that in expectation of a new order of things, the English Jacobins desired to place him, Canning, at the head of their expected revolution. He was much struck, and asked time to think what course he should take—and, having thought the matter over, he went to Mr. Pitt and made the Anti-Jacobin confession of faith, in which he persevered until——. Canning himself mentioned this to Sir W. Knighton, upon occasion of giving a place in the Charter-house, of some ten pounds a year, to Godwin’s brother. He could scarce do less for one who had offered him the dictator’s curule chair.
Dined with Rogers with all my own family, and met Sharp, Lord John Russell, Jekyll, and others. The conversation flagged as usual, and jokes were fired like minute guns, producing an effect not much less melancholy,—a wit should always have an atmosphere congenial to him, otherwise he will not shine. Went to Lady Davy’s, where I saw the kind face, and heard the no less friendly greeting, of Lady Selkirk,[168] who introduced all her children to me.