June 23.—­I corrected proofs and played the grandfather in the morning.  After Court saw Lady Wedderburn, who asked my advice about printing some verses of Mrs. Hemans in honour of the late Lord James Murray, who died in Greece.  Also Lord Gray, who wishes me to write some preliminary matter to his ancestor, the Master of Gray’s correspondence.  I promised.  But ancestor was a great rogue, and if I am to write about him at all, I must take my will of him.  Anne and I dined at home.  She went to the play, and I had some mind to go too.  But Miss Foote was the sole attraction, and Miss Foote is only a very pretty woman, and if she played Rosalind better than I think she can, it is a bore to see Touchstone and Jacques murdered.  I have a particular respect for As You Like It.  It was the first play I ever saw, and that was at Bath in 1776 or 1777.  That is not yesterday, yet I remember the piece very well.  So I remained at home, smoked a cigar, and worked leisurely upon the review of the Culloden Papers, which, by dint of vamping and turning, may make up the lacking copy for the “Works” better, I think, than that lumbering Essay on Border Antiquities.

June 24.—­I don’t care who knows it, I was lazy this morning.  But I cheated my laziness capitally, as you shall hear.  My good friend, Sir Watt, said I to my esteemed friend, it is hard you should be obliged to work when you are so disinclined to it.  Were I you, I would not be quite idle though.  I would do something that you are not obliged to do, just as I have seen a cowardly dog willing to fight with any one save that which his master would have desired him to yoke with.  So I went over the review of the Culloden Papers, and went a great way to convert it into the Essay on Clanship, etc., which I intend for the Prose Works.  I wish I had thought of it before correcting that beastly border essay.  Naboclish!

June 25.—­Wrote five pages of the Chronicles, and hope to conquer one or two more ere night to fetch up the leeway.  Went and saw Allan’s sketch of a picture for Abbotsford, which is promising; a thing on the plan of Watteau.  He intends to introduce some interesting characters, and some, I suspect, who have little business there.  Yesterday I dined with the Lockharts at Portobello.[536] To-day at home with Anne and Miss Erskine.  They are gone to walk.  I have a mind to go to trifle, so I do not promise to write more to-night, having begun the dedication (advertisement I mean) to the Chronicles.  I have pleasant subjects of reflection.  The fund in Gibson’s hands will approach L40,000, I think.

Lord Melville writes desiring to be a candidate for the Bannatyne Club.

I made a balance of my affairs, and stuck it into my book:  it should answer very well, but still

    “I am not given to great misguiding,
     But coin my pouches will na bide in,
     With me it ne’er was under hiding,
       I dealt it free.”