December 14.—­Affairs very bad in the money-market in London.  It must come here, and I have far too many engagements not to feel it.  To end the matter at once, I intend to borrow L10,000, with which my son’s marriage-contract allows me to charge my estate.  At Whitsunday and Martinmas I will have enough to pay up the incumbrance of L3000 due to old Moss’s daughter, and L5000 to Misses Ferguson, in whole or part.  This will enable us to dispense in a great measure with bank assistance, and sleep in spite of thunder.  I do not know whether it is this business which makes me a little bilious, or rather the want of exercise during the season of late, and change of the weather to too much heat.  Thank God, my circumstances are good,—­upon a fair balance which I have made, certainly not less than L40,000 or nearly L50,000 above the world.  But the sun and moon shall dance on the green ere carelessness, or hope of gain, or facility of getting cash, shall make me go too deep again, were it but for the disquiet of the thing.  Dined:  Lady Scott and Anne quietly.

December 15.—­R.P.  G[illies] came sicut mos est at five o’clock to make me confidant of the extremities of his distress.  It is clear all he has to do is to make the best agreement he can with his creditors.  I remember many years since the poor fellow told me he thought there was something interesting in having difficulties.  Poor lad, he will have enough of them now.  He talks about writing translations for the booksellers from the German to the amount of five or six hundred pounds, but this is like a man proposing to run a whole day at top speed.  Yet, if he had good subjects, R.P.G. is one of the best translators I know, and something must be done for him certainly, though, I fear, it will be necessary to go to the bottom of the ulcer; palliatives won’t do.  He is terribly imprudent, yet a worthy and benevolent creature—­a great bore withal.  Dined alone with family.  I am determined not to stand mine host to all Scotland and England as I have done.  This shall be a saving, since it must be a borrowing, year.  We heard from Sophia; they are got safe to town; but as Johnnie had a little bag of meal with him, to make his porridge on the road, the whole inn-yard assembled to see the operation.  Junor, his maid, was of opinion that England was an “awfu’ country to make parritch in.”  God bless the poor baby, and restore his perfect health!

December 16.—­R.P.G. and his friend Robert Wilson[75] came—­the former at five, as usual—­the latter at three, as appointed.  R[obert] W[ilson] frankly said that R.P.G.’s case was quite desperate, that he was insolvent, and that any attempt to save him at present would be just so much cash thrown away.  God knows, at this moment I have none to throw away uselessly.  For poor Gillies there was a melancholy mixture of pathos and affectation in his statement, which really affected me; while it told me that it would be useless to help