"To-morrow to fresh meads and pastures new."[470]

_February_ 11.--Wrought a good deal in the morning, and landed Boney at Smolensk. But I have him to bring off again; and, moreover, I must collate the authorities on the movements of the secondary armies of Witgenstein and the Admiral with the break-tooth name. Dined with Lord Minto, where I met Thomson, Cranstoun, and other gay folks. These dinner parties narrow my working hours; yet they must sometimes be, or one would fall out of the line of society, and go to leeward entirely, which is not right to venture. This is the high time for parties in Edinburgh; no wonder one cannot keep clear.

_February_ 12.--I was obliged to read instead of writing, and the infernal Russian names, which everybody spells _ad libitum,_ makes it difficult to trace the operations on a better map than mine. I called to-day on Dr. Shortt, princ.i.p.al surgeon at Saint Helena, and who presided at the opening of Bonaparte's body. He mentions as certain the falsehood of a number of the a.s.sertions concerning his usage, the unhealthy state of the island, and so forth. I have jotted down his evidence elsewhere. I could not write when I came home. Nervous a little, I think, and not yet up to the motions of Tchitchagoff, as I must be before I can write. Will [Clerk] and Sir A. Ferguson dine here to-day--the first time any one has had that honour for long enough, unless at Abbotsford. The good Lord Chief-Commissioner invited himself, and I asked his son, Admiral Adam. Col. Ferguson is of the party.

_February_ 13.--The dining parties come thick, and interfere with work extremely. I am, however, beforehand very far. Yet, as James B.

says--the tortoise comes up with the hare. So Puss must make a new start; but not this week. Went to see the exhibition--certainly a good one for Scotland--and less trash than I have seen at Somerset-House (begging pardon of the pockpuddings). There is a beautiful thing by Landseer--a Highlander and two stag-hounds engaged with a deer. Very spirited, indeed. I forgot my rheumatism, and could have wished myself of the party. There were many fine folks, and there was a collation, chocolate, and so forth. We dine at Sir H. Jardine's, with Lord Ch.-Com., Lord Chief-Baron, etc.

_February_ 14.--"Death's gi'en the art an unco devel."[471] Sir George Beaumont's dead; by far the most sensible and pleasing man I ever knew; kind, too, in his nature, and generous; gentle in society, and of those mild manners which tend to soften the causticity of the general London [tone] of persiflage and personal satire. As an amateur, he was a painter of the very highest rank. Though I know nothing of the matter, yet I should hold him a perfect critic on painting, for he always made his criticisms intelligible, and used no slang. I am very sorry, as much as is in my nature to be, for one whom I could see but seldom. He was the great friend of Wordsworth, and understood his poetry, which is a rare thing, for it is more easy to see his peculiarities than to feel his great merit, or follow his abstract ideas. I dined to-day at Lord Ch.-Commissioner's--Lord Minto, and Lord Ch.-Baron, also Harden. Little done to-day.

_February_ 15.--Rheumatism returns with the snow. I had thoughts of going to Abbotsford on Sat.u.r.day, but if this lasts, it will not do; and, sooth to speak, it ought not to do; though it would do me much pleasure if it would do.

I have a letter from Baron Von Goethe,[472] which I must have read to me; for though I know German, I have forgot their written hand. I make it a rule seldom to read, and never to answer, foreign letters from literary folks. It leads to nothing but the battle-dore and shuttle-c.o.c.k intercourse of compliments, as light as cork and feathers. But Goethe is different, and a wonderful fellow, the Ariosto at once, and almost the Voltaire of Germany. Who could have told me thirty years ago I should correspond, and be on something like an equal footing, with the author of _Goetz_? Ay, and who could have told me fifty things else that have befallen me?[473]

_February_ 16.--R. Still snow; and, alas! no time for work, so hard am I f.a.gged by the Court and the good company of Edinburgh. I almost wish my rheumatics were bad enough to give me an apology for staying a week at home. But we have Sunday and Monday clear. If not better, I will cribb off Tuesday; and Wednesday is Teind day. We dined to-day with Mr.

Borthwick, younger of Crookston.

_February_ 17.--James Ferguson ill of the rheumatism in head and neck, and Hector B. Macdonald in neck and shoulders. I wonder, as Commodore Trunnion says, what the blackguard h.e.l.l's-baby has to say to the Clerks of Session.[474] Went to the Second Division to a.s.sist Hector.

_N.B._--Don't like it half so well as my own, for the speeches are much longer. Home at dinner, and wrought in the evening.

_February_ 18.--Very cold weather. I am rather glad I am not in the country. What says Dean Swift--

"When frost and snow come both together, Then sit by the fire and save shoe leather."

Wrought all morning and finished five pages. Missie dined with us.

_February_ 19.--As well I give up Abbotsford, for Hamilton is laid up with the gout. The snow, too, continues, with a hard frost. I have seen the day I would have liked it all the better. I read and wrote at the bitter account of the French retreat from Moscow, in 1812, till the little room and coal fire seemed snug by comparison. I felt cold in its rigour in my childhood and boyhood, but not since. In youth and advanced life we get less sensible to it, but I remember thinking it worse than hunger. Uninterrupted to-day, and did eight leaves.[475]

_February_ 20.--At Court, and waited to see the poisoning woman. She is clearly guilty, but as one or two witnesses said the poor wench hinted an intention to poison herself, the jury gave that b.a.s.t.a.r.d verdict, _Not proven_. I hate that Caledonian _medium quid_. One who is not _proven guilty_ is innocent in the eye of law. It was a face to do or die, or perhaps to do to die. Thin features, which had been handsome, a flashing eye, an acute and aquiline nose, lips much marked, as arguing decision, and, I think, bad temper--they were thin, and habitually compressed, rather turned down at the corners, as one of a rather melancholy disposition. There was an awful crowd; but, sitting within the bar, I had the pleasure of seeing much at my ease; the constables knocking the other folks about, which was of course very entertaining.[476]

Lord Liverpool is ill of an apoplexy. I am sorry for it. He will be missed. Who will be got for Premier? Not B---- certainly;[477] he wants weight. If Peel would consent to be made a peer, he would do better; but I doubt his ambition will prefer the House of Commons. Wrought a a good deal.

_February_ 21.--Being the vacant Wednesday I wrote all the morning. Had an answer from D. of W., unsuccessful in getting young Skene put upon the engineer list; he is too old. Went out at two with Anne, and visited the exhibition; also called on the Mansfield family and on Sydney Smith.

Jeffrey unwell from pleading so long and late for the poisoning woman.

He has saved her throat and taken a quinsey in his own. Adam Ferguson has had a fall with his horse.

_February_ 22.--Was at Court till two, then lounged till Will Murray[478] came to speak about a dinner for the Theatrical Fund, in order to make some arrangements. There are 300 tickets given out.[479] I fear it will be uncomfortable; and whatever the stoics may say, a bad dinner throws cold water on the charity. I have agreed to preside, a situation in which I have been rather felicitous, not by much superiority of wit or wisdom, far less of eloquence; but by two or three simple rules which I put down here for the benefit of posterity.

1st. Always hurry the bottle round for five or six rounds without prosing yourself or permitting others to prose. A slight fillip of wine inclines people to be pleased, and removes the nervousness which prevents men from speaking--disposes them, in short, to be amusing and to be amused.

2d. Push on, keep moving, as Punch says. Do not think of saying fine things--n.o.body cares for them any more than for fine music, which is often too liberally bestowed on such occasions. Speak at all ventures, and attempt the _mot pour rire._ You will find people satisfied with wonderfully indifferent jokes if you can but hit the taste of the company, which depends much on its character. Even a very high party, primed with all the cold irony and _non est tanti_ feelings, or no feelings, of fashionable folks, may be stormed by a jovial, rough, round, and ready preses. Choose your texts with discretion, the sermon may be as you like. If a drunkard or an a.s.s breaks in with anything out of joint, if you can parry it with a jest, good and well--if not, do not exert your serious authority, unless it is something very bad. The authority even of a chairman ought to be very cautiously exercised. With patience you will have the support of every one.

When you have drunk a few gla.s.ses to play the good fellow, and banish modesty if you are unlucky enough, to have such a troublesome companion, then beware of the cup too much. Nothing is so ridiculous as a drunken preses.

Lastly. Always speak short, and _Skeoch doch na skiel_--cut a tale with a drink.

"This is the purpose and intent Of gude Schir Walter's testament."[480]

We dined to-day at Mrs. Dundas of Arniston, Dowager.

_February_ 24.--I carried my own instructions into effect the best I could, and if our jests were not good, our laugh was abundant. I think I will hardly take the chair again when the company is so miscellaneous; though they all behaved perfectly well. Meadowbank taxed me with the novels, and to end that farce at once I pleaded guilty, so that splore is ended. As to the collection, it was much cry and little woo', as the deil said when he sh.o.r.e the sow. Only 280 from 300 people, but many were to send money to-morrow. They did not open books, which was impolitic, but circulated a box, where people might put in what they pleased--and some gave shillings, which gives but a poor idea of the company. Yet there were many respectable people and handsome donations.

But this fashion of not letting your right hand see what your left hand doeth is no good mode of raising a round sum. Your penny-pig collections don't succeed. I got away at ten at night. The performers performed very like gentlemen, especially Will Murray. They attended as stewards with white rods, and never thought of sitting down till after dinner, taking care that the company was attended to.

_February_ 25.--Very bad report of the speeches in the papers. We dined at Jeffrey's with Sydney Smith--funny and good-natured as usual. One of his daughters is very pretty indeed; both are well-mannered, agreeable, and sing well. The party was pleasant.

_February_ 26.--At home, and settled to work; but I know not why I was out of spirits--quite Laird of Humdudgeon, and did all I could to shake it off, and could not. James Ballantyne dined with me.

_February_ 27.--Humdudgeonish still; hang it, what fools we are! I worked, but coldly and ill. Yet something is done. I wonder if other people have these strange alternations of industry and incapacity. I am sure I do not indulge myself in fancies, but it is accompanied with great drowsiness--bile, I suppose, and terribly jaded spirits. I received to-day Dr. Shortt and Major Crocket, who was orderly-officer on Boney at the time of his death.

_February_ 28.--Sir Adam breakfasted. One of the few old friends left out of the number of my youthful companions. In youth we have many companions, few friends perhaps; in age companionship is ended, except rarely, and by appointment. Old men, by a kind of instinct, seek younger companions who listen to their stories, honour their grey hairs while present, and mimic and laugh at them when their backs are turned. At least that was the way in our day, and I warrant our chicks of the present day crow to the same tune. Of all the friends that I have left I have none who has any decided attachment to literature. So either I must talk on that subject to young people--in other words, turn proser, or I must turn tea-table talker and converse with ladies. I am too old and too proud for either character, so I'll live alone and be contented.

Lockhart's departure for London was a loss to me in this way. Came home late from the Court, but worked tightly in the evening. I think discontinuing smoking, as I have done for these two months past, leaves me less muzzy after dinner. At any rate, it breaks a custom--I despise custom.

FOOTNOTES:

[459] Foote's Comedy, Act I. Sc. 1.

[460] Scott, who had accompanied this lady to the Highlands in the summer of 1808, wrote from Edinburgh on 19th January:--"We have here a very diverting lion and sundry wild beasts; but the most meritorious is Miss Lydia White, who is what Oxonians call a lioness of the first order, with stockings nineteen times dyed blue; very lively, very good-humoured, and extremely absurd. It is very diverting to see the sober Scotch ladies staring at this phenomenon."--_Life_, vol. iii. pp.

38, 95, 96.

[461] Burns's "Twa Dogs."--J.G.L.

[462] Mount Benger.

[463] John Archibald Murray, whose capital bachelors' dinner on Dec. 8 Scott so pleasantly describes (on page 320), had married in the interval Miss Rigby, a Lancashire lady, who was long known in Edinburgh for her hospitality and fine social qualities as Lady Murray. (See page 378, April 2, 1827.) Miss Martineau celebrated her parliamentary Tea-Table in London, when her husband was Lord Advocate, and Lord c.o.c.kburn, the delights of Strachur on Loch Fyne.

[464] Mr. (afterwards Sir Francis) Grant became a member of the Scottish Academy in 1830, an a.s.sociate of Royal Academy in 1842, and Academician in 1851. His successful career as a painter secured his elevation to the Presidentship of the Academy in 1866. Sir Francis died at Melton-Mowbray in October 1878, aged 75.

[465] Patrick Fraser Tytler, the Scottish historian. He died on Christmas-day 1849, aged fifty-eight.--See Burgon's _Memoirs_, 8vo, Lond. 1859.

[466] Audubon says in his Journal of the same date:--"Captain Hall led me to a seat immediately opposite to Sir Walter Scott, the President, where I had a perfect view of the great man, and studied Nature from Nature's n.o.blest work."

The publication of Audubon's great work, _The Birds of America_, commenced in 1827, and was completed in 1839, forming 4 vols. in the largest folio size, and containing 435 plates. It shows the indomitable courage of the author, that even when the work was completed, he had only 161 subscribers, 82 of whom were in America. The price of the book was two guineas for each part with 5 coloured plates. During the last dozen years its price at auctions runs about 250 to 300. Audubon died in New York in 1851.--See _Life_, by Buchanan, 8vo, London, 1866.

[467] Biographical Notices had been sent to the _Weekly Journal_ in 1826, and are now included in the _Miscell. Prose Works_, vol. iv. pp.

322-342.

[468] Afterwards included in _The Pilgrimage and other Poems_, Lond.

1856.

[469] See Craig Brown's _Selkirkshire_, vol. i. pp. 285-86.

[470] Milton's _Lycidas,_ varied.

[471]

"Death's gi'en the Lodge an unco devel, Tam Samson's dead."

_Burns._--J.G.L.