humble or your equal, is still worse.  But Tom Purdie is just the thing, kneaded up between the friend and servant, as well as Uncle Toby’s bowling-green between sand and clay.  You are certain he is proud as well as patient under his burthen, and you are under no more constraint than with a pony.  I must ride him to-day if the weather holds up.  Meantime I will correct that curious fellow Pepys’ Diary,—­I mean the article I have made of it for the Quarterly.

Edinburgh, January 16.—­Came through cold roads to as cold news.  Hurst and Robinson have suffered a bill of L1000 to come back upon Constable, which I suppose infers the ruin of both houses.  We shall soon see.  Constable, it seems, who was to have set off in the last week of December, dawdled here till in all human probability his going or staying became a matter of mighty little consequence.  He could not be there till Monday night, and his resources must have come too late.  Dined with the Skenes.[122]

January 17.—­James Ballantyne this morning—­good honest fellow, with a visage as black as the crook.[123] He hopes no salvation; has indeed taken measures to stop.  It is hard, after having fought such a battle.  Have apologised for not attending the Royal Society Club, who have a gaudeamus on this day, and seemed to count much on my being the preses.

My old acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth Clerk, sister of Willie, died suddenly.  I cannot choose but wish it had been S.W.S., and yet the feeling is unmanly.  I have Anne, my wife, and Charles to look after.  I felt rather sneaking as I came home from the Parliament House—­felt as if I were liable monstrari digito in no very pleasant way.  But this must be borne cum caeteris; and, thank God, however uncomfortable, I do not feel despondent.

I have seen Cadell, Ballantyne, and Hogarth.  All advise me to execute a trust of my property for payment of my obligations.  So does John Gibson,[124] and so I resolve to do.  My wife and daughter are gloomy, but yet patient.  I trust by my hold on the works to make it every man’s interest to be very gentle with me.  Cadell makes it plain that by prudence they will, in six months, realise L20,000, which can be attainable by no effort of their own.

January 18.—­He that sleeps too long in the morning, let him borrow the pillow of a debtor.  So says the Spaniard, and so say I. I had of course an indifferent night of it.  I wish these two days were over; but the worst is over.  The Bank of Scotland has behaved very well; expressing a resolution to serve Constable’s house and me to the uttermost; but as no one can say to what extent Hurst and Robinson’s failure may go, borrowing would but linger it out.