_26th._—Read Boswell. Worked at the opera. Bought books at King’s. Went to Debrett’s. The news there, that Buonaparte and his whole fleet were taken: it was communicated by Lord H—— to the horse volunteers that were reviewing in Hyde Park; they immediately gave three huzzas, and it ran from mouth to mouth through the crowd. It was false. Such scenes are tragically ridiculous. An officer of note had arrived from Lord St. Vincent; conjecture immediately knew his business: Lords were the first to believe what conjecture affirmed, and men shouted and rejoiced at the imaginary destruction of their fellow beings. Buonaparte has thus been captured at least a dozen times. On one of these occasions Lord L——, as I hear, communicating the news to one of the B——’s, began his letter with three hurrahs. _27th._—Concluded corrections and additions to the second act of the opera. Read the papers at Debrett’s. The same sanguinary measures still pursued in Ireland. The prevailing party there seem to contemplate the temporary success of Robespierre, but not his catastrophe. Bought more books at King’s. Went with Geiseveiller to see a pretended picture by Correggio, and another by Paul Potter. The latter, I believe, is a true picture; the sky and trees excellent; the composition detestable: a view of some public walk in Holland, with cows and strait-lined railing, like St. James’s Park before the alterations. Of Correggio having perhaps never seen a picture, I cannot pretend to judge; but this sketch, for it is no more, produces too feeble an effect to be his, if we may decide from internal evidence. The owner modestly asks nine hundred guineas for it, or ninety-five paid down, and the same sum annually for nine years on good security. The wild expectations that men form to themselves are pitiably ridiculous.