er from my nephew, little Walter,
as we used to call him, from his age and size, compared to those of his
cousin. He has been kindly received at Bombay by the Governor
Mountstuart Elphinstone, and by Sir Thomas Bradford. He is taking his
ground, I think, prudently, and is likely to get on. Already first
Lieutenant of Engineers--that is well to begin with.

Colonel Ferguson, Miss Margaret, and some ladies, friends of theirs,
dine, also Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw, and James Laidlaw, and young Mr. N.
Milne.

_October_ 3.--I wrote my task as usual, but, strange to tell, there is a
want of paper. I expect some to-day. In the meantime, to avoid all
quarrel with Dame Duty, I cut up some other leaves into the usual
statutory size. They say of a fowl that if you draw a chalk line on a
table, and lay chick-a-diddle down with his bill upon it, the poor thing
will imagine himself opposed by an insurmountable barrier, which he will
not attempt to cross. Suchlike are one-half of the obstacles which serve
to interrupt our best resolves, and such is my pretended want of paper.
It is like Sterne's want of _sous_ when he went to relieve the _Pauvre
Honteux_.

_October_ 4.--I ought to record with gratitude to God Almighty the
continued health of body and mind, which He hath vouchsafed to grant me.
I have had of late no accesses either of bile or of nervous affection,
and by mixing exercise with literary labour, I have escaped the _tremor
cordis_ which on other occasions has annoyed me cruelly. I went to the
inspection of the Selkirkshire Yeomanry, by Colonel Thornhill, 7th
Hussars. The Colonel is a remarkably fine-looking man, and has a good
address. His brow bears token of the fatigues of war. He is a great
falconer, and has promised to fly his hawks on Friday for my amusement,
and to spend the day at Abbotsford. The young Duke of B. was on the
field looking at the corps, most of whom are his tenants. They did very
well, and are fine, smart young men, and well mounted. Too few of them
though, which is a pity. The exercise is a work which in my time I have
loved well.

Finished my task at night.

_October_ 5.--I was thinking this morning that my time glided away in a
singularly monotonous manner, like one of those dark grey days which
neither promise sunshine nor threaten rain; too melancholy for
enjoyment, too tranquil for repining. But this day has brought a change
which somewhat shakes my philosophy. I find by a letter from J. Gibson