gusty weather.

_April_ 11.--Wrought out my task, although I have been much affected
this morning by the Morbus, as I call it. Aching pain in the back,
rendering one posture intolerable, fluttering of the heart, idle fears,
gloomy thoughts and anxieties, which if not unfounded are at least
bootless. I have been out once or twice, but am driven in by the rain.
Mercy on us, what poor devils we are! I shook this affection off,
however. Mr. Scrope and Col. Ferguson came to dinner, and we twaddled
away the evening well enough.

_April_ 12.--I have finished my task this morning at half-past
eleven--easily and early--and, I think, not amiss. I hope J.B. will make
some great points of admiration!!!--otherwise I will be disappointed. If
this work answers--if it _but_ answers, it must set us on our legs; I am
sure worse trumpery of mine has had a great run. Well, I will console
myself and do my best! But fashion changes, and I am getting old, and
may become unpopular, but it is time to cry out when I am hurt. I
remember with what great difficulty I was brought to think myself
something better than common,[243]--and now I will not in mere faintness
of heart give up good hopes. So Fortune protect the bold. I have
finished the whole introductory sketch of the Revolution--too long for
an introduction. But I think I may now go to my solitary walk.

_April_ 13.--On my return from my walk yesterday I learnt with great
concern the death of my old friend, Sir Alexander Don. He cannot have
been above six-or seven-and-forty. Without being much together, we had,
considering our different habits, lived in much friendship, and I
sincerely regret his death. His habits were those of a gay man, much
connected with the turf; but he possessed strong natural parts, and in
particular few men could speak better in public when he chose. He had
tact, wit, power of sarcasm, and that indescribable something which
marks the gentleman. His manners in society were extremely pleasing, and
as he had a taste for literature and the fine arts, there were few more
pleasant companions, besides being a highly-spirited, steady, and
honourable man. His indolence prevented his turning these good parts
towards acquiring the distinction he might have attained. He was among
the _detenus_ whom Bonaparte's iniquitous commands confined so long in
France;[244] and coming there into possession of a large estate in right
of his mother, the heiress of the Glencairn family, he