November 7.—­Began to settle myself this morning, after the hurry of mind, and even of body, which I have lately undergone.  Commenced a review—­that is, an essay, on Ornamental Gardening for the Quarterly.  But I stuck fast for want of books.  As I did not wish to leave the mind leisure to recoil on itself, I immediately began the Second Series of the Chronicles of Canongate, the First having been well approved.  I went to make another visit, and fairly softened myself like an old fool, with recalling old stories till I was fit for nothing but shedding tears and repeating verses for the whole night.  This is sad work.  The very grave gives up its dead, and time rolls back thirty years to add to my perplexities.  I don’t care.  I begin to grow over-hardened, and, like a stag turning at bay, my naturally good temper grows fierce and dangerous.  Yet what a romance to tell, and told I fear it will one day be.  And then my three years of dreaming and my two years of wakening will be chronicled doubtless.  But the dead will feel no pain.

November 8.—­Domum mansi, lanam feci.  I may borrow the old sepulchral motto of the Roman matron.  I stayed at home, and began the third volume of Chronicles, or rather the first volume of the Second Series.[72] This I pursued with little intermission from morning till night, yet only finished nine pages.  Like the machinery of a steam-engine, the imagination does not work freely when first set upon a new task.

November 9.—­Finished my task after breakfast, at least before twelve.  Then went to College to hear this most amusing good matter of the Essay read.[73] Imprimis occurs a dispute whether the magistrates, as patrons of the University, should march in procession before the Royal visitors; and it was proposed on our side that the Provost, who is undoubtedly the first man in his own city, should go in attendance on the Principal, with the Chairman of the Commission on the Principal’s right hand, and the whole Commission following, taking pas of the other Magistrates as well as of the Senatus Academicus—­or whether we had not better waive all question of precedence, and let the three bodies find their way separately as they best could.  This last method was just adopted when we learned that the question was not in what order of procession we should reach the place of exhibition, but whether we were to get there at all, which was presently after reported as an impossibility.  The lads of the College had so effectually taken possession of the class-room where the essay was to be read, that, neither learning or law, neither Magistrates nor Magisters, neither visitors nor visited, could make way to the scene of action.  So we grandees were obliged to adjourn the sederunt till Saturday the 17th—­and so ended the collie-shangie.

November 10.—­Wrote out my task and little more.  At twelve o’clock I went to poor Lady J.S. to talk over old stories.  I am not clear that it is right or healthful indulgence to be ripping up old sorrows, but it seems to give her deep-seated sorrow words, and that is a mental bloodletting.  To me these things are now matter of calm and solemn recollection, never to be forgotten, yet scarce to be remembered with pain.