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; but that the yet unpublished journal throws great light on the obscurities of that part of George the Second's reign.—What is this to George the Third's? I don't know what to think.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
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.
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!