April 11.—­Wrought out my task, although I have been much affected this morning by the Morbus, as I call it.  Aching pain in the back, rendering one posture intolerable, fluttering of the heart, idle fears, gloomy thoughts and anxieties, which if not unfounded are at least bootless.  I have been out once or twice, but am driven in by the rain.  Mercy on us, what poor devils we are!  I shook this affection off, however.  Mr. Scrope and Col.  Ferguson came to dinner, and we twaddled away the evening well enough.

April 12.—­I have finished my task this morning at half-past eleven—­easily and early—­and, I think, not amiss.  I hope J.B. will make some great points of admiration!!!—­otherwise I will be disappointed.  If this work answers—­if it but answers, it must set us on our legs; I am sure worse trumpery of mine has had a great run.  Well, I will console myself and do my best!  But fashion changes, and I am getting old, and may become unpopular, but it is time to cry out when I am hurt.  I remember with what great difficulty I was brought to think myself something better than common,[243]—­and now I will not in mere faintness of heart give up good hopes.  So Fortune protect the bold.  I have finished the whole introductory sketch of the Revolution—­too long for an introduction.  But I think I may now go to my solitary walk.

April 13.—­On my return from my walk yesterday I learnt with great concern the death of my old friend, Sir Alexander Don.  He cannot have been above six-or seven-and-forty.  Without being much together, we had, considering our different habits, lived in much friendship, and I sincerely regret his death.  His habits were those of a gay man, much connected with the turf; but he possessed strong natural parts, and in particular few men could speak better in public when he chose.  He had tact, wit, power of sarcasm, and that indescribable something which marks the gentleman.  His manners in society were extremely pleasing, and as he had a taste for literature and the fine arts, there were few more pleasant companions, besides being a highly-spirited, steady, and honourable man.  His indolence prevented his turning these good parts towards acquiring the distinction he might have attained.  He was among the detenus whom Bonaparte’s iniquitous commands confined so long in France;[244] and coming there into possession of a large estate in right of his mother, the heiress of the Glencairn family, he had the means of being very expensive, and probably then acquired those gay habits which rendered him averse to serious business.  Being our member for Roxburghshire, his death will make a stir amongst us.  I prophesy Harden[245] will be here to talk about starting his son Henry.

Accordingly the Laird and Lady called.  I exhorted him to write to Lord Montagu[246] instantly.  I do not see what they can do better, and unless some pickthank intervene to insinuate certain irritating suspicions, I suppose Lord M. will make no objection.  There can be no objection to Henry Scott for birth, fortune, or political principle; and I do not see where we could get a better representative.