on. I had thought on the subject several days with
something like the despair which seized the fair princess, commanded by
her ugly step-mother to assort a whole garret full of tangled silk
threads of every kind and colour, when in comes Prince Percinet with a
wand, whisks it over the miscellaneous mass, and lo! all the threads are
as nicely arranged as in a seamstress' housewife. It has often happened
to me that when I went to bed with my head as ignorant as my shoulders
what I was to do next, I have waked in the morning with a distinct and
accurate conception of the mode, good or bad, in which the plot might be
extricated. It seems to me that the action of the intellect, on such
occasions, is rather accelerated by the little fever which an extra
glass of wine produces on the system. Of course excess is out of the
question. Now this may seem strange, but it is quite true; and it is no
less so that I have generally written to the middle of one of these
novels, without having the least idea how it was to end, in short in the
_hab nab at a venture_ style of composition. So now, this hitch being
over, I fold my paper, lock up my journal, and proceed to labour with
good hope.

_February_ 25.--This being Monday, I carried on my work according to the
new model. Dined at home and in quiet. But I may notice that yesterday
Mr. Williams, the learned Rector of our new Academy, who now leaves us,
took his dinner here. We had a long philological tete-a-tete. He is
opinionative, as he has some title to be, but very learned, and with a
juster view of his subject than is commonly entertained, for he traces
words to the same source--not from sound but sense. He casts backwards
thus to the root, while many compare the ends of the twigs without going
further.

This night I went to the funeral of Mr. Henderson, late of Eildon Hall,
a kind-hearted man, who rose to great wealth by honest means, and will
be missed and regretted.

In the evening I went to the promenade in the Exhibition of Pictures,
which was splendidly lighted up and filled with fashionable company. I
think there was a want of beauty,--or perhaps the gas-lights were
unfavourable to the ladies' looks.

_February_ 26.--Business filled up the day till one, when I sat to Mr.
Smith. Tedious work, even though Will Clerk chaperoned me. We dined at
Archie Swinton's. Met Lord Lothian, Lord Cringletie, etc. This day I
have wrought almost nothing, but I am nearly half a volume befor