_July_ 1.--Mr. Daveis breakfasted with me. On nearer acquaintance, I was
more galled by some portion of continental manners than I had been at
first, so difficult is it for an American to correct his manner to our
ideas of perfect good-breeding.[390] I did all that was right, however,
and asked Miss Ferrier, whom he admires prodigiously, to meet him at
dinner. Hither came also a young friend, so I have done the polite thing
every way. Thomson also dined with us. After dinner I gave my strangers
an airing round the Corstorphine hills, and returned by the Cramond
road. I sent to Mr. Gibson, Cadell's project for Lammas, which raises
£15,000 for a dividend of 3s. to be then made. I think the trustees
should listen to this, which is paying one-half of my debt.
_July_ 2.--Have assurances from John Gibson that £15,000 should be
applied as I proposed. If this can be repeated yearly up to 1835 the
matter is ended, and well ended; yet, woe's me! the public change their
taste, and their favourites get old. Yet if I was born in 1771, I shall
only be sixty in 1831, and, by the same reasoning, sixty-four in 1835,
so I may rough it out, yet be no Sir Robert Preston. At any rate, it is
all I have to trust to.
I did a morning's task, and was detained late at the Court; came home,
ate a hearty dinner, slumbered after it in spite of my teeth, and made
a poor night's work of it. One's mind gets so dissipated by the fagging,
yet insignificant, business of the offices; my release comes soon, but I
fear for a term only, for I doubt if they will carry through the Court
Bill.
_July_ 3.--My day began at seven as usual. Sir Adam came to breakfast. I
read Southey's edition of the _Pilgrim's Progress,_ and think of
reviewing the same. I would I had books at hand. To the Court, and
remained till two; then went to look at the drawings for repairing
Murthly, the house of Sir John or James Stewart, now building by
Gillespie Graham, and which he has planned after the fashion of James
VI.'s reign, a kind of bastard Grecian[391]--very fanciful and pretty
though. Read Hone's _Every-day Book_, and with a better opinion of him
than I expected from his anti-religious frenzy. We are to dine with the
Skenes to-day.
Which we did accordingly, meeting Mr. and Mrs. Strange, Lord Forbes, and
other friends.
_July_ 4.--Was a complete and serious day of work, only interrupted in
the evening by----, who, with all the freedom and ease of continental
manners, gratified me with his gratuitous presence. Yet it might have
been worse, for his conversation is well enough, but it is strange want
of tact to suppose one must be alike welcome to a stranger at all hours
of the day; but I have stuffed the portfolio, so do not grudge
half-an-hour.
_July_ 5.--I was up before seven and resumed my labours, and by
breakfast-time I had reached p. 133; it may reach to 160 or 170 as I
find space and matter. Buchanan[392] came and wrote about fifteen of his
pages, equal to mine in proportion of three to one. We are therefore
about p. 138, and in sight of land. At two o'clock went to bury poor
George Burnet, the son of Gilbert Innes, in as heavy a rain as I ever
saw. Was in Shandwick Place again by four and made these entries. I
dine to-day with the Club; grant Heaven it fair before six o'clock!
We met at Barry's,[393] and had a gallant dinner, but only few of our
number was present. Alas! sixty does not rally to such meetings with the
alacrity of sixteen, and our Club has seen the space between these
terms. I was home and abed when Charles arrived and waked me. Poor
fellow! he is doing very well with his rheumatic limbs.
_July_ 6.--I did little this morning but correct some sheets, and was at
the Court all morning. About two I called at Mr. Cadell's, and I learned
the dividend was arranged. Sir Adam fell in with us, and laid anchors to
windward to get an invitation to Cockenzie for next year, being struck
with my life-like description of a tiled haddock. I came home much
fagged, slept for half-an-hour (I don't like this lethargy), read _I
Promessi Sposi_, and was idle. Miss Kerr dined and gave us music.
_July_ 7.--This morning corrected proofs, with which J.B. proceeds
lazily enough, and alleges printing reasons, of which he has plenty at
hand. Though it was the Teind Wednesday the devil would have it that
this was a Court of Session day also for a cause of mine; so there I sat
hearing a dozen cases of augmentation of stipend pleaded, and wondering
within myself whether anything can be predicated of a Scottish parish,
in which there cannot be discovered a reason for enlarging the
endowments of the minister. I returned after two, with a sousing shower
for companion; I got very wet and very warm. But shall we go mourn for
that, my dear?[394] I rather like a flaw of weather; it shows something
of the old man is left. I had Mr. Buchanan to help pack my papers and
things, and got through part of that unpleasant business.
_July_ 8.--I had my letters as usual, but no proofs till I was just
going out. Returning from the Court met Skene, who brought me news that
our visit was at an end for Saturday, poor Colin having come to town
very unwell. I called to see him, and found him suffering under a degree
of slow palsy, his spirits depressed, and his looks miserable, worse a
great deal than when I last saw him. His wife and daughter were in the
room, dreadfully distressed. We spoke but a few words referring to
recovery and better days, which, I suspect, neither of us hoped.[395]
For I looked only on the ghost of my friend of many a long day; and he,
while he said to see me did him good, must have had little thought of
our meeting under better auspices. We shall, of course, go straight to
Abbotsford, instead of travelling by Harcus as we intended.
_July_ 9.--Two distressed damsels on my hands, one, a friend of Harriet
Swinton, translates from the Italian a work on the plan of _I Promessi
Sposi_, but I fear she must not expect much from the trade. A
translation with them is a mere translation--that is, a thing which can
be made their own at a guinea per sheet, and they will not have an
excellent one at a higher rate. Second is Miss Young, daughter of the
excellent Dr. Young of Hawick. If she can, from her father's letters and
memoranda, extract materials for a fair simple account of his life, I
would give my name as editor, and I think it might do, but for a large
publication--Palabras, neighbour Dogberry,[396] the time is by. Dined
with the Bannatyne, where we had a lively party. Touching the songs, an
old _roué_ must own an improvement in the times, when all paw-paw words
are omitted, and naughty innuendos _gazés_. One is apt to say--
"Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread."[397]