October 13.—­Wrote in the forenoon.  Lord Bessborough and Mr. and Mrs. Ponsonby called to see the place.  His lady used to be civil to me in London—­an accomplished and pleasing woman.  They only stayed an hour.  At dinner we had Lord and Lady Bathurst, and my friend Lady Georgiana—­also Marquis of Lothian and Lord Castlereagh, plenty of fine folks.  Expected also the Lord Register and Mrs. Dundas, but they could not come.  Lord Bathurst told me that Gourgaud had negotiated with the French Government to the last moment of his leaving London, and that he had been told so by the French Ambassador.  Lord B. refused to see him, because he understood he talked disrespectfully of Napoleon.

October 14.—­I read prayers to the company of yesterday, and we took a drive round by Drygrange Bridge.  Lord B. told me that the late king made it at one time a point of conscience to read every word of every act of parliament before giving his assent to it.  There was a mixture of principle and nonsense in this.  Lord Lothian left us.  I did a full task to-day, which is much, considering I was a good deal occupied.

October 15.—­My noble guests departed, pleased I believe with their visit.  I have had to thank Lord Bathurst for former kindness.  I respect him too, as one who being far from rich, has on the late occasion preferred political consistency to a love of office and its emoluments.  He seems to expect no opposition of a formal kind this next session.  What is wonderful, no young man of talents seems to spring up in the House of Commons.  I wonder what comes of all the clever lads whom we see at college.  The fruit apparently does not ripen as formerly.  Lord Castlereagh remained with us.  I bestowed a little advice on him.  He is a warm-hearted young fellow, with some of the fashionable affectations of the age about him, but with good feelings and an inclination to come forward.

October 16.—­With all this racketing the work advances fast.  The third volume of the Tales is now half finished, and will, I think, be a useful work.  Some drizzling days have been of great use to its progress.  This visiting has made some dawdling, but not much, perhaps not more than there ought to be for such a task.

I walked from Huntly Burn up the little Glen, which was in all the melancholy beauty of autumn, the little brook brawling and bickering in fine style over its falls and currents.

October 17.—­Drove down to Mertoun and brought up Elizabeth Scott to be our guest for some days or so.  Various chance guests arrived.  One of the most welcome was Captain MacKenzie of the Celtic Society and the 72d regiment, a picture of a Highlander in his gigantic person and innocent and generous disposition.  Poor fellow, he is going to retreat to Brittany, to make his half-pay support a wife and family.  I did not dare to ask how many.  God send I may have the means of serving him.