Sheridan dined with us last Friday; Mrs. S.[128] was to have come, but she was ill from having sung too much. He was in a very playful vein of humour, and, without any marked _trait_ of wit, all he said was pleasant. Lewis was a self-invited guest, to prove to me that he and William Lamb were cordial friends, who he knew dined with us; but he failed in that attempt, as Lamb complained that he followed him like his shadow, and bored him insufferably. Sheridan told a story of a sale of plants near his house. The trees were ticketed with their names. Two country gentlemen read a ‘Dacious cypress,’ ‘This must be wrong,’ said one, ‘there is no such word: I will make it right,’ and with his pencil he wrote ‘_Au_dacious.’ When the little, puny deciduous cypress appeared with such a tremendous name, the whole auction room shouted with laughter. He said formerly the managers of the two theatres used to send people to hiss and disturb the actors at new plays. One night an actor complained to Garrick that the new tragedy was interrupted and would get damned, as a Covent Garden man was in the pit laughing. ‘Never mind,’ said Garrick, ‘I shall be revenged, for I have a man fast asleep at their new comedy.’ Bedford House is pulling down, and the Duke is building a new square.[129] He has some idea of erecting a statue of Ld. Russell; I advised him to get Mr. Fox to write the prose inscription, Fitzpatrick the verse, and Dr. Parr the Latin. If he should raise the monument he will adopt my hint. Serjeant Lens surprised me by saying that should this statue be erected, the populace would in all probability pull it down. If so, public opinion has undergone a strange revolution, as he was a martyr whom patriots worshipped,--‘That cause for which Russell and Sidney bled.’ _19th June._--I went yesterday to Hampton Court, where I slept. Ld. H. rode over to St. Anne’s, and joined me at night. In a small corner of the Palace erected by William now lives the Stadtholder[130] and the Princess of Orange, fugitives from those dominions their ancestor quitted to govern these: a reflection that must be accompanied with pangs of regret and mortification. On the 19th, I went by water to Kingston Bridge, where I found my mother, Sir Gilbert, Henry,[131] and Mr. Francis. In the evening we all went to the Opera. [Sidenote: STATE OF THE WAR] Genoa is taken, Melas seems to have changed positions with Masséna. Bonaparte is beyond Milan and restoring the Cisalpine Governts.