literature, is going with his family to
settle in London. I do not wonder at it. His parts are of a kind
superior to the confined sphere in which he moves in Scotland. In
London, he says, there is a rapid increase of business and its
opportunities. Thus London licks the butter off our bread, by opening a
better market for ambition. Were it not for the difference of the
religion and laws, poor Scotland could hardly keep a man that is worth
having; and yet men will not see this. I took leave of Kinnear, with
hopes for his happiness and fortune, but yet with some regret for the
sake of the country which loses him. The Baron agreed to go with
Kinnear to Kelso: and _exit_ with the usual demonstrations of German
enthusiasm.

_March_ 25.--I worked in the morning, and think I have sent Croker a
packet which may be useful, and to Lockhart a critique on rather a dry
topic, viz.: the ancient Scottish History. I remember E. Ainslie,
commonly called the plain man, who piqued himself on his powers of
conversation, striving to strike fire from some old flinty wretch whom
he found in a corner of a public coach, at length addressed him:
"Friend, I have tried you on politics, literary matters, religion,
fashionable news, etc. etc., and all to no purpose." The dry old rogue,
twisting his muzzle into an infernal grin, replied, "Can you claver
about bend leather?" The man, be it understood, was a leather merchant.
The early history of Caledonia is almost as hopeless a subject, but off
it goes. I walked up the Glen with Tom for my companion. Dined, heard
Anne reading a paper of anecdotes about Cluny Macpherson, and so to bed.

_March_ 26.--As I have been so lately Johnsonizing, I should derive, if
possible, some personal use. Johnson advises Boswell to keep a diary,
and to omit registers of the weather, and like trumpery. I am resolved
in future not to register what is yet more futile--my gleams of bright
and clouded temper. Boswell--whose nerves were, one half madness, and
half affectation--has thrummed upon this topic till it is threadbare. I
have at this moment forty things to do, and great inclination to do none
of them. I ended by working till two, walking till five, writing
letters, and so to bed.

_March_ 27.--Letters again. Let me see. I wrote to Lord Montagu about
Scott of Beirlaw's commission, in which Invernahyle interests himself.
Item, to a lady who is pestering me about a Miss Campbell sentenced to
transportation for steali