Brown grew melancholy--but Hunt perceiving what a complimentary tendency all this had bore it remarkably well--Brown grumbled about it for two or three days. I went with Hunt to Sir John Leicester's gallery; there I saw Northcote--Hilton--Bewick, and many more of great and Little note. Haydon's picture is of very little progress this year--He talks about finishing it next year. Wordsworth is going to publish a Poem called Peter Bell--what a perverse fellow it is! Why will he talk about Peter Bells--I was told not to tell--but to you it will not be telling--Reynolds hearing that said Peter Bell was coming out, took it into his head to write a skit upon it called Peter Bell. He did it as soon as thought on, it is to be published this morning, and comes out before the real Peter Bell, with this admirable motto from the "Bold Stroke for a Wife" "I am the real Simon Pure." It would be just as well to trounce Lord Byron in the same manner. I am still at a stand in versifying--I cannot do it yet with any pleasure--I mean, however, to look round on my resources and means, and see what I can do without poetry--To that end I shall live in Westminster--I have no doubt of making by some means a little to help on, or I shall be left in the Lurch--with the burden of a little Pride--However I look in time. The Dilkes like their Lodgings at Westminster tolerably well. I cannot help thinking what a shame it is that poor Dilke should give up his comfortable house and garden for his Son, whom he will certainly ruin with too much care. The boy has nothing in his ears all day but himself and the importance of his education. Dilke has continually in his mouth "My Boy." This is what spoils princes: it may have the same effect with Commoners. Mrs. Dilke has been very well lately--But what a shameful thing it is that for that obstinate Boy Dilke should stifle himself in Town Lodgings and wear out his Life by his continual apprehension of his Boy's fate in Westminster school, with the rest of the Boys and the Masters. Every one has some wear and tear. One would think Dilke ought to be quiet and happy--but no--this one Boy makes his face pale, his society silent and his vigilance jealous--He would I have no doubt quarrel with any one who snubb'd his Boy--With all this he has no notion how to manage him. O what a farce is our greatest cares! Yet one must be in the pother for the sake of Clothes food and Lodging. There has been a squabble between Kean and Mr. Bucke--There are faults on both sides--on Bucke's the faults are positive to the Question: Kean's fault is a want of genteel knowledge and high Policy. The former writes knavishly foolish, and the other silly bombast. It was about a Tragedy written by said Mr. Bucke which, it appears, Mr. Kean kick'd at--it was so bad--After a little struggle of Mr. Bucke's against Kean, Drury Lane had the Policy to bring it out and Kean the impolicy not to appear in it. It was damn'd.