“On Tuesday last dined with Rogers,—­Madame de Stael, Mackintosh, Sheridan, Erskine, and Payne Knight, Lady Donegall and Miss R. there.  Sheridan told a very good story of himself and Madame de Recamier’s handkerchief; Erskine a few stories of himself only. She is going to write a big book about England, she says;—­I believe her.  Asked by her how I liked Miss * ’s thing, called *, and answered (very sincerely) that I thought it very bad for her, and worse than any of the others.  Afterwards thought it possible Lady Donegall, being Irish, might be a patroness of * *, and was rather sorry for my opinion, as I hate putting people into fusses, either with themselves or their favourites; it looks as if one did it on purpose.  The party went off very well, and the fish was very much to my gusto.  But we got up too soon after the women; and Mrs. Corinne always lingers so long after dinner that we wish her in—­the drawing-room.

“To-day C. called, and while sitting here, in came Merivale.  During our colloquy, C.(ignorant that M. was the writer) abused the ’mawkishness of the Quarterly Review of Grimm’s Correspondence.’  I (knowing the secret) changed the conversation as soon as I could; and C. went away, quite convinced of having made the most favourable impression on his new acquaintance.  Merivale is luckily a very good-natured fellow, or, God he knows what might have been engendered from such a malaprop.  I did not look at him while this was going on, but I felt like a coal—­for I like Merivale, as well as the article in question.

“Asked to Lady Keith’s to-morrow evening—­I think I will go; but it is the first party invitation I have accepted this ‘season,’ as the learned Fletcher called it, when that youngest brat of Lady * ’s cut my eye and cheek open with a misdirected pebble—­’Never mind, my Lord, the scar will be gone before the _season_;’ as if one’s eye was of no importance in the mean time.

“Lord Erskine called, and gave me his famous pamphlet, with a marginal note and corrections in his handwriting.  Sent it to be bound superbly, and shall treasure it.

“Sent my fine print of Napoleon to be framed.  It is framed; and the Emperor becomes his robes as if he had been hatched in them.

“March 7.

“Rose at seven—­ready by half-past eight—­went to Mr. Hanson’s, Berkeley Square—­went to church with his eldest daughter, Mary Anne (a good girl), and gave her away to the Earl of Portsmouth.  Saw her fairly a countess—­congratulated the family and groom (bride)—­drank a bumper of wine (wholesome sherris) to their felicity, and all that—­and came home.  Asked to stay to dinner, but could not.  At three sat to Phillips for faces.  Called on Lady M.—­I like her so well, that I always stay too long. (Mem. to mend of that.)

“Passed the evening with Hobhouse, who has begun a poem, which promises highly;—­wish he would go on with it.  Heard some curious extracts from a life of Morosini, the blundering Venetian, who blew up the Acropolis at Athens with a bomb, and be d——­d to him!  Waxed sleepy—­just come home—­must go to bed, and am engaged to meet Sheridan to-morrow at Rogers’s.