e failure of the plates. I called on Lady
J.S.[339] When I came home I was sleepy and over-walked. By the way, I
sat till Graham finished my picture.[340] I fell fast asleep before
dinner, and slept for an hour. After dinner I wrote to Walter, Charles,
Lockhart, and John Murray, and took a screed of my novel; so concluded
the evening idly enough.

_June_ 13.--We hear of Sophia's motions. She is to set sail by
steam-boat on the 16th, Tuesday, and Charles is to make a run down with
her. But, alas! my poor Johnnie is, I fear, come to lay his bones in his
native land. Sophia can no longer disguise it from herself, that as his
strength weakens the disease increases. The poor child is so much bent
on coming to see Abbotsford and grandpapa, that it would be cruel not to
comply with his wish--and if affliction comes, we will bear it best
together.

"Not more the schoolboy who expires
Far from his native home desires
To see some friend's familiar face,
Or meet a parent's last embrace."

It must be all as God wills it. Perhaps his native air may be of
service.

More news from Cadell. He deems it necessary to carry up the edition to
20,000.

[_Abbotsford._]--This day was fixed for a start to Abbotsford, where we
arrived about six o'clock, evening. To my thinking, I never saw a
prettier place; and even the trees and flowers seemed to say to me, We
are your own again. But I must not let imagination jade me thus. It
would be to make disappointment doubly bitter: and, God knows, I have in
my child's family matter enough to check any exuberant joy.

_June 14_.--A delicious day--threatening rain; but with the languid and
affecting manner in which beauty demands sympathy when about to weep. I
wandered about the banks and braes all morning, and got home about
three, and saw everything in tolerable order, excepting that there was
a good number of branches left in the walks. There is a great number of
trees cut, and bark collected. Colonel Ferguson dined with us, and spent
the afternoon.

_June_ 15.--Another charming day. Up and despatched packets for
Ballantyne and Cadell; neither of them was furiously to the purpose, but
I had a humour to be alert. I walked over to Huntly Burn, and round by
Chiefswood and Janeswood, where I saw Captain Hamilton. He is busy
finishing his Peninsular campaigns.[341] He will not be cut out by
Napier, whose work has a strong party cast; and being, besides, purely
abstract and profess