_8th._—Wrote the first scene of the fifth act, the substance of which I had in my memory; and had the whole act transcribed, and the comedy sent to Mr Harris. Saw P—— at Debrett’s, and spoke to him of my intended Epilogue. _9th._—Harris called about three o’clock, much satisfied with the comedy, but advising some curtailments and slight alterations. _10th._—Wrote to Harris concerning the proposed alterations. _11th._—Made alterations in the Tradesman-scene, and returned the comedy to Harris, that Lewis might read Headlong before I curtail the Bailiff-scene in the third act. [This comedy came out at Drury Lane (much altered) in 1803, ran eleven nights, ill performed, and entitled, “Hear both Sides.” June, 1808.] _12th._—Went with Fanny and Louisa to Holman’s new comedy, first time, “The Votary of Wealth,” a piece in which there is much to blame, and but little to commend. Heard Mrs. Atkins in the first act of Rosina. M. Le F—— and his wife in the same box; he pretended to regret we each had visited when the other was not at home, and to wish a more intimate acquaintance, but I doubt his sincerity. He is a man of the world, and his world has not been of the purest kind. _13th._—Called on P——, who read me quotations made by Belsham from Davenant, something like miraculously picturing the political state and government of the kingdom, though written, I believe, at the beginning of this century. Left the manuscript of “the Lawyer” with him to read. Called on M. Martinet—not at home, and on Mr Nicholson. Mr Godwin brought my manuscript with further remarks, of the same temper and complexion as his first: on which subject, as nearly as I can recollect, we had the following conversation.—H. “The first part of your criticism, which I have read, has, I own, both pained and surprised me. When you brought your tragedy to me, you gave a minute detail of the rules I was to observe in criticising your work, that you might properly benefit by my remarks, which rules you have not yourself in the least attended to. One of the first of them was, not to find fault in such an absolute and wholesale style, as might at once kill your ardour, and make you, if not disgusted with your work, yet so doubtful, as at once to damp all farther progress. Yet, having read mine, you come with a sledge hammer of criticism, describe it as absolutely contemptible, tell me it must be damned, or, if it should escape, that it cannot survive five nights, that the characters and plot are but transcripts of myself, and that every body will say it is the garrulity of an old man. I am well aware that the judgment of an author, on a work of his own, which he has lately finished, is extremely fallible; but a judgment he has, and must have, and I am firmly persuaded that this comedy (meaning ‘the Lawyer’) contains some of the strongest writing I have ever produced, and I stake my judgment, as far as the judgment of an author, under the