ences press on me. But then I am a bad comforter
in case of inevitable calamity; and feeling proudly able to endure in my
own case, I cannot sympathise with those whose nerves are of a feebler
texture.

Dined at Jeffrey's, with Lord and Lady Minto, John Murray and his
lady,[463] a Mr. Featherstone, an Americo-Yorkshireman, and some others.
Mrs. Murray is a very amiable person, and seems highly accomplished;
plays most brilliantly.

_February_ 4.--R.R. These two letters, you must understand, do not
signify, as in Bibliomania phrase, a double degree of rarity, but,
chirurgically, a double degree of rheumatism. The wine gets to weak
places, Ross says. I have a letter from no less a person than that pink
of booksellers, Sir Richard Phillips, who, it seems, has been ruined,
and as he sees me floating down the same dark tide, sings out his _nos
poma natamus_.

_February_ 5.--R. One R. will do to-day. If this cursed rheumatism gives
way to February weather, I will allow she has some right to be called a
spring month, to which otherwise her pretensions are slender. I worked
this morning till two o'clock, and visited Mr. Grant's[464] pictures,
who has them upon sale. They seem, to my inexperienced eye, genuine, or
at least, good paintings. But I fear picture-buying, like
horse-jockeyship, is a profession a gentleman cannot make much of
without laying aside some of his attributes. The pictures are too
high-priced, I should think, for this market. There is a very knowing
catalogue by Frank Grant himself. Next went to see a show of wild
beasts; it was a fine one. I think they keep them much cleaner than
formerly, when the strong smell generally gave me a headache for the
day. The creatures are also much tamer, which I impute to more knowledge
of their habits and kind treatment. A lion and tigress went through
their exercise like poodles--jumping, standing, and lying down at the
word of command. This is rather degrading. I would have the Lord
Chancellor of Beasts good-humoured, not jocose. I treated the elephant,
who was a noble fellow, to a shilling's worth of cakes. I wish I could
have enlarged the space in which so much bulk and wisdom is confined. He
kept swinging his head from side to side, looking as if he marvelled why
all the fools that gaped at him were at liberty, and he cooped up in the
cage.

Dined at the Royal Society Club--about thirty present. Went to the
Society in the evening, and heard an essay by Peter Tytler