nformed without fear of bothering. Kindest compliments
to Mrs. Skene and the young folks.--Always yours entirely, WALTER
SCOTT."

[B] Twenty numbers of this work were published in 1828 and 1829 under
the title of "A Series of Sketches of the existing Localities alluded to
in the Waverley Novels," etched from original drawings by James Skene,
Esq.

[347] A copy of this rather rare book is still in the Abbotsford
Library. Its title is "Colonel Wm. Francklin's Military Memoirs of
George Thomas, who by extraordinary talents and enterprise rose from an
obscure situation to the rank of General in the service of the Native
Powers in the N.W. of India," 4to, Calcutta, 1803.

[348] The poem of this name is attributed to King James I. of Scotland,
but Dr. Irving in his _History of Scottish Poetry_ says the earliest
edition known to him dates only from 1663.

[349] Professor of Logic in the University of Edinburgh from 1775 till
1792, when he resigned his chair and became Keeper of the State Paper
Office, and Historiographer to the East India Company in London. He
wrote several elaborate and valuable reports for the Government, which,
though printed, were never published; among others, one in 1799, in 2
vols. 8vo, "On the Union between England and Scotland: its causes,
effects, and influence of Great Britain in Europe." In the previous year
he also prepared another on the arrangements made for repelling the
Armada, and their application to the crisis of 1798. This able man
returned to Scotland, and died in Falkland about two years before Scott
visited the place.

[350] An account of the finding of this seal (which was thought to be
that of Joan of Beaufort, wife of James I.) at Kinross, in April 1829,
is given in the _Archaeologia Scotica,_ vol. iv. p. 420.

JULY.

_July_ 1.--This morning wrote letters and sent them off by Charles. It
was Teind Wednesday, so I was at home to witness the departure of my
family, which was depressing. My two daughters, with the poor boy
Johnnie, went off at ten o'clock, my son Charles, with my niece, about
twelve. The house, filled with a little bustle attendant on such a
removal, then became silent as the grave. The voices of the children,
which had lately been so clamorous with their joyous shouts, are now
hushed and still. A blank of this kind is somewhat depressing, and I
find it impossible to resume my general tone of spirits. A lethargy has
crept on me which no efforts can