June 15.—­W.  Clerk, Francis Scott, and Charles Sharpe dined with me, but my task had been concluded before dinner.

June 16.—­Dined at Dalmahoy, with the young Earl and Countess of Morton.  I like these young noble folks particularly well.  Their manners and style of living are easy and unaffected, and I should like to see them often.  Came home at night.  The task finished to-day.  I should mention that the plan about the new edition of the novels was considered at a meeting of trustees, and finally approved of.  I trust it will answer; yet, who can warrant the continuance of popularity?  Old Corri,[225] who entered into many projects, and could never set the sails of a wind-mill so as to catch the aura popularis, used to say that he believed that were he to turn baker, it would put bread out of fashion.  I have had the better luck to dress my sails to every wind; and so blow on, good wind, and spin round, whirligig.

June 17.—­Violent rheumatic headache all day.  Wrought, however.  But what difference this troublesome addition may make on the quality of the stuff produced, truly I do not know.  I finished five leaves.

June 18.—­Some Italian gentlemen landed here, under the conveyance of the Misses Haig of Bemerside.  They were gentlemanlike men; but as I did not dare to speak bad French, I had not much to say to foreigners.  Gave them and their pretty guides a good breakfast, however.  The scene seemed to me to resemble Sheridan’s scene in the Critic.[226] There are a number of very civil gentlemen trying to make themselves understood, and I do not know which is the interpreter.  After all, it is not my fault.  They who wish to see me should be able to speak my language.  I called on Mrs. Stewart Mackenzie.  She received me with all the kindness of former days, and I was delighted to see her.  I sat about an hour with her.  My head aches, for all that, and I have heavy fits of drowsiness.  Well, I have finished my task, and have a right to sleep if I have a mind.

I dine to-day with Lord Mackenzie, where I hope to meet Mrs. Stewart Mackenzie again, for I love her warm heart and lively fancy.  Accordingly I enjoyed this pleasure.[227]

June 19.—­Scribbled away lustily.  Went to the P.H.  Wrote when I came home, both before and after dinner—­that’s all, I think.  I am become a sort of writing automaton, and truly the joints of my knees, especially the left, are so stiff and painful in rising and sitting down, that I can hardly help screaming—­I that was so robust and active; I get into a carriage with great difficulty.  My head, too, is bothered with rheumatic headaches.  Why not?  I got headaches by my folly when I was young, and now I am old they come uncalled.  Infirmity gives what indiscretion bought.