Lockhart, moreover, inquires about my affairs anxiously, and asks what he is to say about them; says, “He has inquiries every day; kind, most kind all, and among the most interested and anxious, Sir William Knighton,[205] who told me the king was quite melancholy all the evening he heard of it.” This I can well believe, for the king, educated as a prince, has, nevertheless, as true and kind a heart as any subject in his dominions.  He goes on:  “I do think they would give you a Baron’s gown as soon as possible,” etc.  I have written to him in answer, showing I have enough to carry me on, and can dedicate my literary efforts to clear my land.  The preferment would suit me well, and the late Duke of Buccleuch gave me his interest for it.  I dare say the young duke would do the same, for the unvaried love I have borne his house; and by and by he will have a voice potential.  But there is Sir William Rae in the meantime, whose prevailing claim I would never place my own in opposition to, even were it possible by a tour de force, such as L. points at, to set it aside.  Meantime, I am building a barrier betwixt me and promotion.  Any prospect of the kind is very distant and very uncertain. Come time, come, rath, as the German says.

In the meanwhile, now I am not pulled about for money, etc., methinks I am happier without my wealth than with it.  Everything is paid.  I have no one wishing to make up a sum of money, and writing for his account to be paid.  Since 17th January I have not laid out a guinea, out of my own hand, save two or three in charity, and six shillings for a pocket-book.  But the cash with which I set out having run short for family expenses I drew on Blackwood, through Ballantyne, which was honoured, for L25, to account of Malachi’s Letters, of which another edition of 1000 is ordered, and gave it to Lady Scott, because our removal will require that in hand.  This is for a fortnight succeeding Wednesday next, being the 8th March current.  On the 20th my quarter comes in, and though I have something to pay out of it, I shall be on velvet for expense—­and regular I will be.  Methinks all trifling objects of expenditure seem to grow light in my eyes.  That I may regain independence, I must be saving.  But ambition awakes, as love of quiet indulgence dies and is mortified within me.  “Dark Cuthullin will be renowned or dead."[206]

March 5.—­Something of toddy and cigar in that last quotation, I think.  Yet I only smoked two, and liquified with one glass of spirits and water.  I have sworn I will not blot out what I have once written here.

Malachi goes on, but I am dubious about the commencement—­it must be mended at least—­reads prosy.

Had letters from Walter and Jane, the dears.  All well.  Regiment about to move from Dublin.