imagination was so fertile that he seemed really to believe the
extraordinary fictions which he delighted in telling. His economy, most
laudable in the early part of his life, when it enabled him, from a
small income, to pay his father's debts, became a miserable habit, and
led him to do mean things. He had a desire to be a great man, and a
_Maecenas bon marche_. The two celebrated lawyers, his brothers, were not
more gifted by nature than I think he was, but the restraints of a
profession kept the eccentricity of the family in order. Henry Erskine
was the best-natured man I ever knew, thoroughly a gentleman, and with
but one fault: he could not say _no_, and thus sometimes misled those
who trusted him. Tom Erskine was positively mad. I have heard him tell a
cock-and-a-bull story of having seen the ghost of his father's servant,
John Burnet, with as much sincerity as if he believed every word he was
saying. Both Henry and Thomas were saving men, yet both died very poor.
The one at one time possessed L200,000; the other had a considerable
fortune. The Earl alone has died wealthy. It is saving, not getting,
that is the mother of riches. They all had wit. The Earl's was
crack-brained and sometimes caustic; Henry's was of the very kindest,
best-humoured, and gayest that ever cheered society; that of Lord
Erskine was moody and maddish. But I never saw him in his best days.

Went to Haining. Time has at last touched the beautiful Mrs. Pringle. I
wonder he was not ashamed of himself for spoiling so fine a form. But
what cares he? Corrected proofs after dinner. James B. is at last at
work again.

_April_ 21.--Spent the whole morning at writing, still the History, such
is my wilful whim. Twenty pages now finished--I suppose the clear
fourth part of a volume. I went out, but the day being sulky I sat in
the Conservatory, after trying a walk! I have been glancing over the
works for Gillies's review, and I think on them between-hands while I
compose the History,--an odd habit of doing two things at once, but it
has always answered with me well enough.

_April_ 22.--Another hard day's work at the History, now increased to
the Bruce and Baliol period, and threatening to be too lengthy for the
Cyclopaedia. But I will make short work with wars and battles. I wrote
till two o'clock, and strolled with old Tom and my dogs[300] till
half-past four, hours of pleasure and healthful exercise, and to-day
taken with ease. A letter from J.B.,