I begin to tire of my gaieties; and the late hours and constant feasting disagree with me.  I wish for a sheep’s head and whisky toddy against all the French cookery and champagne in the world.

Well, I suppose I might have been a Judge of Session this term—­attained, in short, the grand goal proposed to the ambition of a Scottish lawyer.  It is better, however, as it is, while, at least, I can maintain my literary reputation.

I had some conversation to-day with Messrs. Longman and Co.  They agreed to my deriving what advantage I could in America, and that very willingly.

November 16.—­Breakfasted with Rogers, with my daughters and Lockhart.  R. was exceedingly entertaining, in his dry, quiet, sarcastic manner.  At eleven to the Duke of Wellington, who gave me a bundle of remarks on Bonaparte’s Russian campaign, written in his carriage during his late mission to St. Petersburg.[408] It is furiously scrawled, and the Russian names hard to distinguish, but it shall do me yeoman’s service.  Then went to Pentonville, to old Mr. Handley, a solicitor of the old school, and manager of the Devonshire property.  Had an account of the claim arising on the estate of one Mrs. Owen, due to the representatives of my poor wife’s mother.  He was desperately excursive, and spoke almost for an hour, but the prospect of L4000 to my children made me a patient auditor.  Thence I passed to the Colonial Office, where I concluded my extracts. [Lockhart and I] dined with Croker at the Admiralty au grand couvert.  No less than five Cabinet Ministers were present—­Canning, Huskisson, Melville, [Peel,] and Wellington, with sub-secretaries by the bushel.  The cheer was excellent, but the presence of too many men of distinguished rank and power always freezes the conversation.  Each lamp shines brightest when placed by itself; when too close, they neutralise each other.[409]

November 17.—­My morning here began with the arrival of Bahauder Jah; soon after Mr. Wright;[410] then I was called out to James Scott the young painter.  I greatly fear this modest and amiable creature is throwing away his time.  Next came an animal who is hunting out a fortune in Chancery, which has lain perdu for thirty years.  The fellow, who is in figure and manner the very essence of the creature called a sloth, has attached himself to this pursuit with the steadiness of a well-scented beagle.  I believe he will actually get the prize.

Sir John Malcolm acknowledges and recommends my Persian visitor Bruce.

Saw the Duke of York.  The change on H.R.H. is most wonderful.  From a big, burly, stout man, with a thick and sometimes an inarticulate mode of speaking, he has sunk into a thin-faced, slender-looking old man, who seems diminished in his very size.  I could hardly believe I saw the same person, though I was received with his usual kindness.  He speaks much more distinctly than formerly; his complexion is clearer; in short, H.R.H. seems, on the whole, more healthy after this crisis than when in the stall-fed state, for such it seemed to be, in which I remember him.  God grant it! his life is of infinite value to the King and country—­it is a breakwater behind the throne.