(1775,) December 12, Tuesday night.—­General Scott is dead; sic Diis placuit.  Bully(133) has lost his Bill.  I reported it to-day, and the Question was to withdraw it.  There were 59 against us, and we were 35.  It was worse managed by the agents, supposing no treachery, than ever business was.  Lord North, Robinson, and Keene divided against.  Charles said all that could be said on our side.  But as the business was managed, it was the worst Question that I ever voted for.  We were a Committee absolutely of Almack’s; so if the Bill is not resumed, and better conducted and supported, this phantom of 30,000 pounds clear in Bully’s pocket to pay off his annuities vanishes.  It is surprising what a fatality attends some people’s proceedings.  I begged last night as for alms, that they would meet me to settle the Votes.  I have, since I have been in Parliament, been of twenty at least of these meetings, and always brought numbers down by those means.  But my advice was slighted, and twenty people were walking about the streets who could have carried this point.

December 14, 1775.(134)—­I was much disappointed yesterday in not receiving a letter from you.  I dined here and alone and was in hopes that a letter from you would have come or I should have dined out for my spirits at present are not good, nor can I contrive that they should be better, and yet je ne donnerai pas la mort though nothing in the world has happened, but j’ai les dragons noirs et fort noirs; l’avenir me donne des horreurs, but brisons la pour la present:  I have bought to-day at Lord Holland’s sale of books, “Dart’s Antiquities of Westminster Abbey,” a very complete copy on large paper.  But I paid 6 pounds for it, which is 2 pounds more than it has been usually estimated at.  Dr. Baker has promised to propose me for the Royal Society, and I will be of as many societies as I can which may serve for dissipation and to avoid what I have more reason to dread than anything in the world.  I am sure a grand coup de malheur at play would oppress me beyond anything.

I hope that apprehension will keep me from it, and you must assist me.  Don’t say, he knows it, it is to no purpose—­speaking to anybody. . . .  Speaking does operate if you esteem the person who speaks, and those who are silent have an indifference about what happens to their friends which I know you have not.  There is an old translation of Plutarch two hundred years old by Amyot, in twelve or fourteen volumes 12mo. bound in blue maroc.  Gibbon tells me that it is a very rare and valuable book, one of the first translations which was in that language, and has infinite merit.  The print is not good enough for me, it will come high and I seldom read.  I must buy quartos now, large letter, and books of another kind which amuse me more.  Lady Holland has got well again.  Scott has left 200,000 pounds and two daughters who divide it. ...  I hear some good news is come to-day from America.  I shall know more of it from this dinner I am going