Dined at Jeffrey’s, with Lord and Lady Minto, John Murray and his lady,[463] a Mr. Featherstone, an Americo-Yorkshireman, and some others.  Mrs. Murray is a very amiable person, and seems highly accomplished; plays most brilliantly.

February 4.—­R.R.  These two letters, you must understand, do not signify, as in Bibliomania phrase, a double degree of rarity, but, chirurgically, a double degree of rheumatism.  The wine gets to weak places, Ross says.  I have a letter from no less a person than that pink of booksellers, Sir Richard Phillips, who, it seems, has been ruined, and as he sees me floating down the same dark tide, sings out his nos poma natamus.

February 5.—­R.  One R. will do to-day.  If this cursed rheumatism gives way to February weather, I will allow she has some right to be called a spring month, to which otherwise her pretensions are slender.  I worked this morning till two o’clock, and visited Mr. Grant’s[464] pictures, who has them upon sale.  They seem, to my inexperienced eye, genuine, or at least, good paintings.  But I fear picture-buying, like horse-jockeyship, is a profession a gentleman cannot make much of without laying aside some of his attributes.  The pictures are too high-priced, I should think, for this market.  There is a very knowing catalogue by Frank Grant himself.  Next went to see a show of wild beasts; it was a fine one.  I think they keep them much cleaner than formerly, when the strong smell generally gave me a headache for the day.  The creatures are also much tamer, which I impute to more knowledge of their habits and kind treatment.  A lion and tigress went through their exercise like poodles—­jumping, standing, and lying down at the word of command.  This is rather degrading.  I would have the Lord Chancellor of Beasts good-humoured, not jocose.  I treated the elephant, who was a noble fellow, to a shilling’s worth of cakes.  I wish I could have enlarged the space in which so much bulk and wisdom is confined.  He kept swinging his head from side to side, looking as if he marvelled why all the fools that gaped at him were at liberty, and he cooped up in the cage.

Dined at the Royal Society Club—­about thirty present.  Went to the Society in the evening, and heard an essay by Peter Tytler[465] on the first encourager of Greek learning in England.[466]

February 6.—­Was at Court till two; afterwards wrote a good deal, which has become a habit with me.  Dined at Sir John Hay’s, where met the Advocate and a pleasant party.  There had been a Justiciary trial yesterday, in which something curious had occurred.  A woman of rather the better class, a farmer’s wife, had been tried on the 5th for poisoning her maid-servant.  There seems to have been little doubt of her guilt, but the motive was peculiar.  The unfortunate girl had an intrigue with her son, which this Mrs. Smith (I think that is the name) was desirous to conceal, from some ill-advised