December 4.—­Much colded, which is no usual complaint of mine, but worked about five leaves, so I am quite up with my task-work and better.  But my books from Abbotsford have not arrived.  Dined with the Royal Society Club—­about thirty members present—­too many for company.  After coffee, the Society were like Mungo in The Padlock.[421] I listened, without understanding a single word, to two scientific papers; one about the tail of a comet, and the other about a chucky-stone; besides hearing Basil Hall describe, and seeing him exhibit, a new azimuth.  I have half a mind to cut the whole concern; and yet the situation is honourable, and, as Bob Acres says, one should think of their honour.  We took possession of our new rooms on the Mound, which are very handsome and gentlemanlike.

December 5.—­Annoyed with the cold and its consequences all night, and wish I could shirk the Court this morning.  But it must not be.  Was kept late, and my cold increased.  I have had a regular attack of this for many years past whenever I return to the sedentary life and heated rooms of Edinburgh, which are so different from the open air and constant exercise of the country.  Odd enough that during cold weather and cold nocturnal journeys the cold never touched me, yet I am no sooner settled in comfortable quarters and warm well-aired couches, but la voila.  I made a shift to finish my task, however, and even a leaf more, so we are bang up.  We dined and supped alone, and I went to bed early.

December 6.—­A bad and disturbed night with fever, headache, and some touch of cholera morbus, which greatly disturbed my slumbers.  But I fancy Nature was scouring the gun after her own fashion.  I slept little till morning, and then lay abed, contrary to my wont, until half-past nine o’clock, when I came down to breakfast.  Went to Court, and returned time enough to write about five leaves.  Dined at Skene’s, where we met Lord Elgin and Mr. Stewart, a son of Sir M. Shaw Stewart, whom I knew and liked, poor man.  Talked among other things and persons of Sir J. Campbell of Ardkinglas, who is now here.[422] He is happy in escaping from his notorious title of Callander of Craigforth.  In my youth he was a black-leg and swindler of the first water, and like Pistol did

    “Somewhat lean to cut-purse of quick hand."[423]

He was obliged to give up his estate to his son Colonel Callander, a gentleman of honour, and as Dad went to the Continent in the midst of the French Revolution, he is understood to have gone through many scenes.  At one time, Lord Elgin assured us, he seized upon the island of Zante, as he pretended, by direct authority from the English Government, and reigned there very quietly for some months, until, to appease the jealousy of the Turks, Lord Elgin despatched a frigate to dethrone the new sovereign.  Afterwards he traversed India in the dress of a fakir.  He is now eighty and upwards.