ly on. The Treasury have
remitted us to the Exchequer. The Committee want me to make private
interest with the L.C. Baron. That I won't do, but I will state their
cause publicly any way they like.

_May_ 22.--At Court--home by two, walking through the Princes Street
Gardens for the first time. Called on Mrs. Jobson. Worked two hours.
Must dress to dine at Mr. John Borthwick's, with the _young folk_, now
Mr. and Mrs. Dempster.[521] Kindly and affectionately received by my
good young friends, who seem to have succeeded to their parents' regard
for me.

_May_ 23.--Got some books, etc., which I wanted to make up the Saint
Helena affair. Set about making up the Appendix, but found I had mislaid
a number of the said postliminary affair. Had Hogg's nephew here as a
transcriber, a modest and well-behaved young man--clever, too, I
think.[522] Being Teind Wednesday I was not obliged to go to the Court,
and am now _bang up_, and shall soon finish Mr. Nappy. And how then? Ay,
marry, sir, that's the question.

"Lord, what will all the people say,
Mr. Mayor, Mr. Mayor!"

"The fires i' the lowest hell fold in the people!"[523] as Coriolanus
says. I live not in their report, I hope.

_May_ 24.--Mr. Gibson paid me L70 more of my London journey. A good
thought came into my head: to write stories for little Johnnie Lockhart
from the History of Scotland, like those taken from the History of
England. I will not write mine quite so simply as Croker has done. I am
persuaded both children and the lower class of readers hate books which
are written _down_ to their capacity, and love those that are more
composed for their elders and betters. I will make, if possible, a book
that a child will understand, yet a man will feel some temptation to
peruse should he chance to take it up. It will require, however, a
simplicity of style not quite my own. The grand and interesting consists
in ideas, not in words. A clever thing of this kind will have a run--

"Little to say,
But wrought away,
And went out to dine with the Skenes to-day."

Rather too many dinner engagements on my list. Must be hard-hearted. I
cannot say I like my solitary days the worst by any means. I dine, when
I like, on soup or broth, and drink a glass of porter or ginger-beer; a
single tumbler of whisky and water concludes the _debauch_. This agrees
with me charmingly. At ten o'clock bread and cheese, a single draught
of small beer, porter, or ginger-beer,