have ample verge and space enough, and a mere abridgment would be discreditable. Well, nobody can say I eat the bread of idleness. Why should I? Those who do not work from necessity take violent labour from choice, and were necessity out of the question I would take the same sort of literary labour from choice — something more leisurely though.
May
May 1. — Weather more tolerable. I commenced my review on the Duke of Guise’s Expedition, for my poor correspondent Gillies, with six leaves. What a curious tale that is of Masaniello! I went to Huntly Burn in the sociable, and returned on foot, to my great refreshment. Evening as usual. Ate, drank, smoked, and wrote.
May 2. — A pitiful day of rain and wind. Laboured the whole morning at Gillies’s review. It is a fine subject — the Duke of Guise at Naples — and I think not very much known, though the story of Masaniello is.
I have a letter from Dr. Lardner proposing to me to publish the history in June. But I dare not undertake it in so short a space, proof-sheets and all considered; it must be October — no help for it. Worked after dinner as usual.
May 3. — The very same diary might serve this day as the last. I sent off to Gillies half his review, and I wish the other half at Old Nick.
May 4. — A poor young woman came here this morning, well-dressed and well-behaved, with a strong northern accent. She talked incoherently a long story of a brother and a lover both dead. I would have kept her here till I wrote to her friends, particularly to Mr. Sutherland (an Aberdeen bookseller), to inform them where she is, but my daughter and her maidens were frightened, as indeed there might be room for it, and so I sent her in one of Davidson’s chaises to the Castle at Jedburgh, and wrote to Mr. Shortreed to see she is humanely treated. I have written also to her brother.
“Long shall I see these things forlorn,
And long again their sorrows feel.”
The rest was write, walk, eat, smoke; smoke, and write again.
May 5. — A moist rainy day, mild, however, and promising good weather. I sat at my desk the whole day, and worked at Gillies’s review. So was the day exhausted.
May 6. — I sent off the review. Received the sheets of the Secret Tribunal from Master Reynolds. Keith Scott, a grandson of James Scott, my father’s cousin-german, came here, a fine lively boy with good spirits and amiable manners. Just when I had sent off the rest of Gillies’s manuscript, W. Laidlaw came, so I had him for my companion in a walk which the late weather has prevented for one or two days. Colonel and Mrs. Ferguson, and Margaret Ferguson, came to dinner, and so passed the evening.
May 7. — Captain Percy, brother of Lord Lovaine, and son of Lord Beverley, came out to dinner. Dr. and Mrs. Brewster met him. He is like his brother, Lord Lovaine, an amiable, easy, and accomplished man, who has seen a great deal of service, and roamed about with tribes of Western Indians.
May 8. — Went up Yarrow with Captain Percy, which made a complete day’s idleness, for which I have little apology to offer. I heard at the same time from the President that Sir Robert Dundas is very unwell, so I must be in Edinburgh on Monday 11th. Very disagreeable, now the weather is becoming pleasant.
May 9. — Captain Percy left us at one o’clock. He has a sense of humour, and aptness of comprehension which renders him an agreeable companion. I am sorry his visit has made me a little idle, but there is no help for it.
I have done everything to-day previous to my going away, but — que faut-il faire? one must see society now and then, and this is really an agreeable man. And so, transeat ille. I walked, and was so fatigued as to sleep, and now I will attack John Lockhart’s proof-sheets, of which he has sent me a revise. In the evening I corrected proofs for the review.
May 10. — This must be a day of preparation, which I hate; yet it is but laying aside a few books, and arranging a few papers, and yet my nerves are fluttered, and I make blunders, and mislay my pen and my keys, and make more confusion than I can repair. After all, I will try for once to do it steadily.
Well! I have toiled through it; it is like a ground swell in the sea that brings up all that is disgusting from the bottom — admonitory letters — unpaid bills — few of these, thank my stars! — all that one would wish to forget perks itself up in your face at a thorough redding up — devil take it, I will get out and cool the fever that this turmoil has made in my veins! The delightful spring weather conjured down the evil spirit. I sat a long time with my nerves shaking like a frightened child, and then laughed at it all by the side of the river, coming back by the thicket.
May 11, [Edinburgh]. — We passed the morning in the little arrangements previous to our departure, and then returned at night to Edinburgh, bringing Keith Scott along. This boy’s grandfather, James Scott by name, very clever and particularly well acquainted with Indian customs and manners. He was one of the first settlers in Prince of Wales Island. He was an active-minded man, and therefore wrote a great deal. I have seen a trunkful of his MSS. Unhappily, instead of writing upon some subject on which he might have conveyed information he took to writing on metaphysics, and lost both his candles and his labour. I was consulted about publishing some part of his works; but could not recommend it. They were shallow essays, with a good deal of infidelity exhibited. Yet James Scott was a very clever man. He only fell into the common mistake of supposing that arguments new to him were new to all others. His son, when I knew him long since in this country, was an ordinary man enough. This boy seems smart and clever. We reached the house in the evening; it was comfortable enough considering it had been shut up for two months. I found a letter from Cadell asserting his continued hope in the success of the Magnum. I begin to be jealous on the subject, but I will know tomorrow.
May 12. — Went to Parliament House. Sir Robert Dundas very unwell. Poor Hamilton on his back with the gout. So was obliged to have the assistance of Rolland from the Second Division. Saw Cadell on the way home. I was right: he had been disappointed in his expectations from Glasgow and other mercantile places where trade is low at present. But
“Tidings did he bring of Africa and golden joys.”
The Magnum has taken extremely in Ireland, which was little counted on, and elsewhere. Hence he proposes a new edition of Tales of my Grandfather, First Series; also an enlargement of the Third Series. All this drives poverty and pinch, which is so like poverty, from the door.
I visited Lady J.S., and had the pleasure to find her well. I wrote a little, and got over a place that bothered me. Cadell has apprehensions of A[nne] of G[eierstein], so have I. Well, the worst of it is, we must do something better.
May 13. — Attended the Court, which took up a good deal of time. On my return saw Sir Robert Dundas, who is better — and expects to be out on Tuesday. I went to the Highland Society to present Miss Grahame Stirling’s book, being a translation of Gelieu’s work on bees, which was well received. Went with the girls to dine at Dalhousie Castle, where we were very kindly received. I saw the Edgewell Tree, too fatal, says Allan Ramsay, to the family from which he was himself descended. I also saw the fatal Coalston Pear, said to have been preserved many hundred years. It is certainly a pear either petrified or turned into wood, with a bit out of one side of it.
It is a pity to see my old school-companion, this fine truehearted nobleman of such an ancient and noble descent, after having followed the British flag through all quarters of the world, again obliged to resume his wanderings at a time of life equal, I suppose, to my own. He has not, however, a grey hair in his head.
May 14. — Left Dalhousie at eight to return here to breakfast, where we received cold tidings. Walter has had an inflammatory attack, and I fear it will be necessary to him to return without delay to the Continent. I have letters from Sophia and Sir Andrew Halliday. The last has