July 16.—­Very unsatisfactory to-day.  Sleepy, stupid, indolent—­finished arranging the books, and after that was totally useless—­unless it can be called study that I slumbered for three or four hours over a variorum edition of the Gill’s-Hill’s tragedy.[303] Admirable recipe for low spirits—­for, not to mention the brutality of so extraordinary a murder, it led John Bull into one of his uncommon fits of gambols, until at last he become so maudlin as to weep for the pitiless assassin, Thurtell, and treasure up the leaves and twigs of the hedge and shrubs in the fatal garden as valuable relics—­nay, thronged the minor theatres to see the very roan horse and yellow gig in which the body was transported from one place to another.  I have not stept over the threshold to-day, so very stupid have I been.

July 17.—­Desidiae longum valedixi. Our time is like our money.  When we change a guinea, the shillings escape as things of small account; when we break a day by idleness in the morning, the rest of the hours lose their importance in our eye.  I set stoutly to work about seven this morning to Boney—­

    And long ere dinner-time, I have
      Full eight close pages wrote;
    What, Duty, hast thou now to crave? 
      Well done, Sir Walter Scott!

July 18.—­This, as yesterday, has been a day of unremitting labour, though I only got through half the quantity of manuscript, owing to drowsiness, a most disarming annoyance.  I walked a little before dinner and after tea, but was unable to go with the girls and Charles to the top of Cauldshiels Hill.  I fear my walking powers are diminishing, but why not?  They have been wonderfully long efficient, all things considered, only I fear I shall get fat and fall into diseases.  Well, things must be as they may.  Let us use the time and faculties which God has left us, and trust futurity to his guidance.  Amen.

This is the day of St. Boswell’s Fair.  That watery saint has for once had a dry festival.

July 19.—­Wrote a page this morning, but no more.  Corrected proofs however, and went to Selkirk to hold Sheriff Court; this consumed the forenoon.  Colonel and Miss Ferguson, with Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw, dined and occupied the evening.  The rain seemed to set in this night.

July 20.—­To-day rainy.  A morning and forenoon of hard work.  About five pages, which makes up for yesterday’s lee way.  I am sadly tired however.  But as I go to Mertoun at four, and spend the night there, the exertion was necessary.

July 21.—­To Mertoun we went accordingly.  Lord and Lady Minto were there, with part of their family, David Haliburton, etc., besides their own large family.  So my lodging was a little room which I had not occupied since I was a bachelor, but often before in my frequent intercourse with this kind and hospitable family.  Feeling myself returned to that celibacy, which renders many accommodations