I left the burgh in the midst of abuse and the gentle hint of “Burke Sir Walter.”  Much obliged to the brave lads of Jeddart.  Upwards of forty freeholders voted for Henry Scott, and only fourteen for the puppy that opposed him.  Even of this party he gained far the greater number by the very awkward coalition with Sir William Scott of Ancrum.  I came home at seven at night.

May 20.—­This is the Selkirk election, which I supposed would be as tumultuous as the Jedburgh one, but the soutars of Selkirk had got a new light, and saw in the proposed Reform Bill nothing but a mode of disfranchising their ancient burgh.  Although the crowd was great, yet there was a sufficient body of special constables, hearty in their useful office, and the election passed as quietly as I ever witnessed one.  I came home before dinner, very quiet.  I am afraid there is something serious in Galashiels; Jeffrey is fairly funked about it, and has written letters to the authorities of Roxburghshire and Selkirkshire to caution us against making the precognitions public, which looks ill.  Yet I think he would have made arrests when the soldiers were in the country.  The time at which I settled at Abbotsford, Whitsunday 1811, I broke up a conspiracy of the weavers.  It will look like sympathising with any renewal if another takes place just now.  Incendiary letters have been sent, and the householders are in a general state of alarm.  The men at Jedburgh Castle are said to be disposed to make a clean breast; if so, we shall soon know more of the matter.  Lord William Graham has been nearly murdered at Dumbarton.  Why should he not have brought down 50 or 100 lads with the kilts, each with a good kent[461] in his hand fit to call the soul out of the body of these weavers?  They would have kept order, I warrant you.

May 21.—­Little more than my usual work and my usual exercise.  I rode out through the plantations and saw the woodmen getting down what was to be felled.  It seems there will be as much for sale as last year of bark:  I think about L40 worth.  A very nice additional pond to the sawmill has been executed.  As for my Tales, they go on well, and are amusing to myself at least.  The History of France is very entertaining.

May 22.—­I have a letter from my friend John Thomson of Duddingston.  I had transmitted him an order for the Duke of Buccleuch for his best picture, at his best price, leaving the choice of the subject and everything else to himself.  He expresses the wish to do, at an ordinary price, a picture of common size.  The declining to put himself forward will, I fear, be thought like shrinking from his own reputation, which nobody has less need to do.  The Duke may wish a large picture for a large price for furnishing a large apartment, and the artist should not shrink from it.  I have written him my opinion.  The feeling is no doubt an amiable, though a false one.  He is modest in proportion to his talents.  But what brother of the finer arts ever approached [excellence] so as to please himself?