"I have taken Lord Salisbury's box at Covent Garden for the season; and now I must go and prepare to join Lady Holland and party, in theirs, at Drury Lane, _questa sera_. "Holland doesn't think the man _is Junius_; but that the yet unpublished journal throws great light on the obscurities of that part of George the Second's reign--What is this to George the Third's? I don't know what to think. Why should Junius be yet dead? If suddenly apoplexed, would he rest in his grave without sending his [Greek: eidolon] to shout in the ears of posterity, 'Junius was X.Y.Z., Esq., buried in the parish of * * *. Repair his monument, ye churchwardens! Print a new edition of his Letters, ye booksellers!' Impossible,--the man must be alive, and will never die without the disclosure. I like him;--he was a good hater. "Came home unwell and went to bed,--not so sleepy as might be desirable. [Footnote 95: The present Lord Dudley.] "Tuesday morning. "I awoke from a dream!--well! and have not others dreamed?--Such a dream!--but she did not overtake me. I wish the dead would rest, however. Ugh! how my blood chilled--and I could not wake --and--and--heigho! "'Shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, Than could the substance of ten thousand * * s, Arm'd all in proof, and led by shallow * *.' I do not like this dream,--I hate its 'foregone conclusion.' And am I to be shaken by shadows? Ay, when they remind us of--no matter--but, if I dream thus again, I will try whether _all_ sleep has the like visions. Since I rose, I've been in considerable bodily pain also; but it is gone, and now, like Lord Ogleby, I am wound up for the day. "A note from Mountnorris--I dine with Ward;--Canning is to be there, Frere and Sharpe,--perhaps Gifford. I am to be one of 'the five' (or rather six), as Lady * * said a little sneeringly yesterday. They are all good to meet, particularly Canning, and--Ward, when he likes. I wish I may be well enough to listen to these intellectuals. "No letters to-day;--so much the better,--there are no answers. I must not dream again;--it spoils even reality. I will go out of doors, and see what the fog will do for me. Jackson has been here: the boxing world much as usual;--but the club increases. I shall dine at Crib's to-morrow. I like energy--even animal energy--of all kinds; and I have need of both mental and corporeal. I have not dined out, nor, indeed, _at all_, lately; have heard no music--have seen nobody. Now for a _plunge_--high life and low life. 'Amant _alterna_ Camoenae!' "I have burnt my _Roman_--as I did the first scenes and sketch of my comedy--and, for aught I see, the pleasure of burning is quite as great as that of printing. These two last would not have done. I ran into realities more than ever; and some would have been recognised and others guessed at.