At Lord Gillies’s we found Sir John Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple, and Miss Ferguson, Mr. Hope Vere of Craigiehall, and Lady Elizabeth, a sister of Lord Tweeddale, Sir Robert O’Callaghan, Captain Cathcart, and others—­a gay party.

February 19.—­An execrable day—­half frost, half fresh, half sleet, half rain, and wholly abominable.  Having made up my packet for the printing-house, and performed my duty at the Court, I had the firmness to walk round by the North Bridge, and face the weather for two miles, by way of exercise.  Called on Skene, and saw some of his drawings of Aix.  It was near two before I got home, and now I hear three strike; part of this hour has been consumed in a sound sleep by the fireside after putting on dry things.  I met Baron Hume,[254] and we praised each other’s hardihood for daring to take exercise in such weather, agreeing that if a man relax the custom of his exercise in Scotland for a bad day he is not likely to resume it in a hurry.  The other moiety of the time was employed in looking over the Memoires de Fauche-Borel.[255]

February 20.—­The Court duly took me up from eleven till about three, but left some time for labour, which I employed to purpose, at least I hope so.  I declined going to the exhibition of paintings to-night; neither the beauties of art nor of nature have their former charms for me.  I finished, however, about seven pages of manuscript, which is a fair half of volume III.  I wish I could command a little more time and I would soon find you something or other, but the plague is that time is wanting when I feel an aptitude to work, and when time abounds, the will, at least the real efficient power of the faculties, is awanting.  Still, however, we make way by degrees.  I glanced over some metrical romances published by Hartshorne, several of which have not seen the light.  They are considerably curious, but I was surprised to see them mingled with Blanchefleur and Flores and one or two others which might have been spared.  There is no great display of notes or prolegomena, and there is, moreover, no glossary.  But the work is well edited.[256]

February 21.—­Colonel Ferguson breakfasted with us.  I was detained at the Parliament House till the hour of poor Mrs. Ballantyne’s funeral, then attended that melancholy ceremony.  The husband was unable to appear; the sight of the poor children was piteous enough.  James Ballantyne has taken his brother Sandy into the house, I mean the firm, about which there had formerly been some misunderstanding.

I attended the Bannatyne Club.  We made a very good election, bringing in Lord Dalhousie and the Lord Clerk Register.[257] Our dinner went pretty well off, but I have seen it merrier.  To be sure old Dr. J., like an immense featherbed, was burking me, as the phrase now goes, during the whole time.  I am sure that word will stick in the language for one while.