We did not get home till about nine, having fasted the whole time.  James, the blockhead, lost my poor Spice, a favourite terrier.  The fool shut her in a stable, and somebody, [he] says, opened the door and let her out.  I suspect she is lost for aye, for she was carried to Jedburgh in a post-chaise.

March 23.—­The measure carried by a single vote.[439] In other circumstances one would hope for the interference of the House of Lords, but it is all hab-nab at a venture.  The worst is that there is a popular party who want personal power, and are highly unfitted to enjoy it.  It has fallen easily, the old Constitution; no bullying Mirabeau to assail, no eloquent Maury to defend.  It has been thrown away like a child’s broken toy.  Well trained, the good sense of the people is much trusted to; we will see what it will do for us.[440]

The curse of Cromwell on those whose conceit brought us to this pass. Sed transeat.  It is vain to mourn what cannot be mended.

March 24.—­Frank Grant and his lady came here.  Frank will, I believe, and if he attends to his profession, be one of the celebrated men of the age.  He is well known to me as the companion of my sons and the partner of my daughters.  In youth, that is in extreme youth, he was passionately fond of fox-hunting and other sports, but not of any species of gambling.  He had also a strong passion for painting, and made a little collection.  As he had sense enough to feel that a younger brother’s fortune would not last long under the expenses of a good stud and a rare collection of chef-d’oeuvres, he used to avow his intention to spend his patrimony, about L10,000, and then again to make his fortune by the law.  The first he soon accomplished.  But the law is not a profession so easily acquired, nor did Frank’s talents lie in that direction.  His passion for painting turned out better.  Nature had given him the rare power of judging soundly of painting, and in a remarkable degree the power of imitating it.  Connoisseurs approved of his sketches, both in pencil and oils, but not without the sort of criticisms made on these occasions—­that they were admirable for an amateur; but it could not be expected that he should submit to the technical drudgery absolutely necessary for a profession, and all that species of criticism which gives way before natural genius and energy of character.

Meantime Frank Grant, who was remarkably handsome, and very much the man of fashion, married a young lady with many possibilities, as Sir Hugh Evans says.[441] She was eldest sister of Farquharson of Invercauld, chief of that clan; and the young man himself having been almost paralysed by the malaria in Italy, Frank’s little boy by this match becomes heir to the estate and chieftainship.  In the meantime fate had another chance for him in the matrimonial line.  At Melton-Mowbray, during the hunting season, he had become acquainted (even before his first marriage) with a niece of the Duke of Rutland, a beautiful and fashionable young woman, with whom he was now thrown into company once more.  It was a natural consequence that they should marry.  The lady had not much wealth, but excellent connections in society, to whom Grant’s good looks and good breeding made him very acceptable.