Poor Lord Thomond died the evening before last of an apoplexy, with which he was seized the night before.  I thought, as well as himself, that he was very near his end, and imagined that it would be this.  But the news struck me, for not an hour before he was taken ill he passed by March’s door as he was going to take an airing in Hyde Park, with Clever in the chariot.  I was sitting upon the steps, with the little girl(103) on my lap, which diverted him, and he made me a very pleasant bow, and that was my last view of him.  I had had an acquaintance with him of above thirty years, but for some time past I had seen him only occasionally.  He was a sensible honest man, and when he was in spirits, and with his intimate friends, I think a very agreeable companion, but had too much reserve to make a friendship with, and not altogether the character that suits me.

White’s begins to crumble away very fast, and would be a melancholy scene to those who remained if they cared for any one person but themselves.  Williams gave a dinner to talk him over, which I suppose was done with the voix larmoyante, et voila tout.  Lord Monson a creve aussi, and Tommy Alston, who has left a will in favour of his bastards, which will occasion lawsuits.

I have made an agreement to meet Varcy to-morrow at Knowles; from thence we go to Tunbridge; so I shall live on Monday on the Pantiles, and on Tuesday return here.  I dine to-day with the Essex’s at March’s; we supped last night at Lady Harrington’s, the consequence of which is to eat a turtle on Tuesday at an alehouse on the Ranelaugh Road, which she has seized from Lord Barrington.  I called at Lady Mary’s first, and found her tres triste.

Lady Holland was thought to be dying yesterday, for Lord Beauchamp was to have dined there, and at three o’clock a note came from Ste(104) to desire him not to come.  The late Lord Holland’s servants, preserving their friendship for my thief whom I dismissed, were so good, when their Lord died, to send for him to sit up with the corpse, as the only piece of preferment which was then vacant in the family.  But they afterwards promoted him to be outrider to the hearse.  Alice told me of it, and said that it was a comfort and little relief to the poor man for the present; and Mr. More, the attorney, to whom I mentioned it, said that they intended to throw him into the same thing—­that was the phrase—­when Lady Holland died.  I beg you to reflect on these circumstances; they are dignes de Moliere et Le Sage.  How my poor old friend would have laughed, if he could have known to what hands he was committed before his interment!