, which he had dressed up with much neatness, and going
abroad to Jamaica. Without having been intimate friends, we were always
affectionate relations, and now we part, probably never to meet in this
world. He has a good deal of the character said to belong to the family.
Our parting with mutual feeling may be easily supposed.

_April_ 9.--This being Saturday, I expect the bibliopolist and
typographer about two o'clock, I suppose, when I shall have much to
journalise. Failures among the trade are alarming, yet not if we act
with prudence. _Nous verrons_.

Mr. Cadell and J. Ballantyne, with the son of the latter. Their courage
is much stouter than I apprehended. Cadell says he has lost L1000 by bad
debts, which is less than he expected, by bad times coming on at this
time. We have been obliged to publish the less popular part of the
Waverley Novels. At present I incline to draw a period after 48 volumes,
and so close the publication. About nine or ten volumes will then
conclude our _Magnum Opus_, so called, and Mr. Cadell thinks we shall
then begin the Poetical Works, in twelve volumes, with illustrations by
Turner, which he expects to rise as far as 12,000. The size is to be
that of the Waverley Novels.

_April_ 10.--I had a letter from Mr. Cowan, Trustee for

Constable's creditors, telling that the manuscripts of the Waverley
Novels had been adjudged to him, and offering them to me, or rather
asking my advice about the disposal of them. Answered that I considered
myself as swindled out of my property, and therefore will give no
consent to any sale of the pillage.[448] Cadell says he is determined to
get the MSS. from Cowan. I told him I would give him the rest of the
MSS., which are in my own hand, for Mr. Cadell has been very friendly to
me in not suffering me to want money in difficult times. We are not
pushed by our creditors, so can take our own time; and as our plans
prosper, we can pay off debt. About two o'clock enter two gentlemen in
an open carriage, both from Makerstoun, and both Captains in the Navy.
Captain Blair, a son of the member for Ayrshire, my old friend the Laird
of Blair. Just as they retreat, Mr. Pontey is announced. I was glad to
see this great forester. He is a little man, and gets along with an air
of talent, something like Gifford, the famous editor of the _Quarterly_.
As in his case mental acuteness gave animation to that species of
countenance which attends personal deformity. The whole o