renders them
competent. Had many proof-sheets to correct in the evening.

_February_ 9.--We had a long day of it at Court, but I whipped you off
half-a-dozen of letters, for, as my cases stood last on the roll, I
could do what I liked in the interim. This carried me on till two
o'clock. Called on Baron Hume, and found him, as usual, in high spirits,
notwithstanding his late illness. Then crept home--my rheumatism much
better, though. Corrected lives of Lord Somerville and the King [George
III.][467] for the Prose Works, which took a long time; but I had the
whole evening to myself, as Anne dined with the Swintons, and went to a
ball at the Justice-Clerk's. _N.B._--It is the first and only ball which
has been given this season--a sign the times are pinching.

_February_ 10.--I got a present of Lord Francis Gower's printed but
unpublished _Tale of the Mill._[468] It is a fine tale of terror in
itself, and very happily brought out. He has certainly a true taste for
poetry. I do not know why, but from my childhood I have seen something
fearful, or melancholy at least, about a mill. Whether I had been
frightened at the machinery when very young, of which I think I have
some shadowy recollection--whether I had heard the stories of the miller
of Thirlestane[469] and similar molendinar tragedies, I cannot tell; but
not even recollection of the Lass of Patie's Mill, or the Miller of
Mansfield, or he who "dwelt on the river Dee," have ever got over my
inclination to connect gloom with a mill, especially when sun is
setting. So I entered into the spirit of the terror with which Lord
Francis has invested his haunted spot. I dine with the Solicitor to-day,
so _quoad_ labour 'tis a blank. But then to-morrow is a new day.

"To-morrow to fresh meads and pastures new."[470]

_February_ 11.--Wrought a good deal in the morning, and landed Boney at
Smolensk. But I have him to bring off again; and, moreover, I must
collate the authorities on the movements of the secondary armies of
Witgenstein and the Admiral with the break-tooth name. Dined with Lord
Minto, where I met Thomson, Cranstoun, and other gay folks. These dinner
parties narrow my working hours; yet they must sometimes be, or one
would fall out of the line of society, and go to leeward entirely, which
is not right to venture. This is the high time for parties in Edinburgh;
no wonder one cannot keep clear.

_February_ 12.--I was obliged to read instead of writing, and the