January 10.—­Bodily health, the mainspring of the microcosm, seems quite restored.  No more flinching or nervous fits, but the sound mind in the sound body.  What poor things does a fever-fit or an overflowing of the bile make of the masters of creation!

The snow begins to fall thick this morning—­

    “The landlord then aloud did say,
    As how he wished they would go away.”

To have our friends shut up here would be rather too much of a good thing.

The day cleared up and was very pleasant.  Had a good walk and looked at the curling.  Mr. Mathews made himself very amusing in the evening.  He has the good-nature to show his accomplishments without pressing, and without the appearance of feeling pain.  On the contrary, I dare say he enjoys the pleasure he communicates.

January 11.—­I got proof-sheets, in which it seems I have repeated a whole passage of history which had been told before.  James is in an awful stew, and I cannot blame him; but then he should consider the hyoscyamus which I was taking, and the anxious botheration about the money-market.  However, as Chaucer says:—­

    “There is na workeman
    That can bothe worken wel and hastilie;
    This must be done at leisure parfitly."[116]

January 12.—­Mathews last night gave us a very perfect imitation of old Cumberland, who carried the poetic jealousy and irritability further than any man I ever saw.  He was a great flatterer too, the old rogue.  Will Erskine used to admire him.  I think he wanted originality.  A very high-bred man in point of manners in society.

My little artist, Knight, gets on better with his portrait—­the features are, however, too pinched, I think.

Upon the whole, the days pass pleasantly enough—­work till one or two, then an hour or two’s walk in the snow, then lighter work, or reading.  Late dinner, and singing or chat in the evening.  Mathews has really all the will, as well as the talent, to be amusing.  He confirms my idea of ventriloquism (which is an absurd word), as being merely the art of imitating sounds at a greater or less distance, assisted by some little points of trick to influence the imagination of the audience—­the vulgar idea of a peculiar organisation (beyond fineness of ear and of utterance) is nonsense.

January 13.—­Our party are about to disperse—­

    “Like youthful steers unyoked, east, north, and south."[117]

I am not sorry, being one of those whom too much mirth always inclines to sadness.  The missing so many of my own family, together with the serious inconveniences to which I have been exposed, gave me at present a desire to be alone.  The Skenes return to Edinburgh, so does Mr. Scrope—­item, the little artist; Mathews to Newcastle; his son to Liverpool.  So exeunt omnes.[118]