ty will permit, from all satirical
composition. Here is an ample subject for a little black-balling in the
case of Joseph Hume, the great AEconomist, who has [managed] the Greek
loan so egregiously. I do not lack personal provocation (see 13th March
last), yet I won't attack him--at present at least--but _qu'il se garde
de moi_:

"I'm not a king, nor nae sic thing,
My word it may not stand;
And Joseph may a buffet bide,
Come he beneath my brand."

At dinner we had a little blow-out on Sophia's part: Lord Dudley, Mr.
Hay, Under Secretary of State, [Sir Thomas Lawrence, etc.] _Mistress_
(as she now calls herself) Joanna Baillie, and her sister, came in the
evening. The whole went off pleasantly.

_November_ 12.--Went to sit to Sir T.L. to finish the picture for his
Majesty, which every one says is a very fine one. I think so myself; and
wonder how Sir Thomas has made so much out of an old weather-beaten
block. But I believe the hard features of old Dons like myself are more
within the compass of the artist's skill than the lovely face and
delicate complexion of females. Came home after a heavy shower. I had a
long conversation about ------ with Lockhart. All that was whispered is
true--a sign how much better our domestics are acquainted with the
private affairs of our neighbours than we are. A dreadful tale of incest
and seduction, and nearly of blood also--horrible beyond expression in
its complications and events--"And yet the end is not;"--and this man
was amiable, and seemed the soul of honour--laughed, too, and was the
soul of society. It is a mercy our own thoughts are concealed from each
other. Oh! if, at our social table, we could see what passes in each
bosom around, we would seek dens and caverns to shun human society! To
see the projector trembling for his falling speculations; the voluptuary
rueing the event of his debauchery; the miser wearing out his soul for
the loss of a guinea--all--all bent upon vain hopes and vainer
regrets--we should not need to go to the hall of the Caliph Vathek to
see men's hearts broiling under their black veils.[402] Lord keep us
from all temptation, for we cannot be our own shepherd!

We dined to-day at Lady Stafford's [at West-hill].[403] Lord S. looks
very poorly, but better than I expected. No company, excepting Sam
Rogers and Mr. Grenville,[404]--the latter is better known by the name
of Tom Grenville--a very amiable and accomplished man, whom I knew