ved to do me some injury; yet, excepting the last L5000, I think most
unintentionally. He was a prince of booksellers; his views sharp,
powerful, and liberal; too sanguine, however, and, like many bold and
successful schemers, never knowing when to stand or stop, and not always
calculating his means to his objects with mercantile accuracy. He was
very vain, for which he had some reason, having raised himself to great
commercial eminence, as he might also have attained great wealth with
good management. He knew, I think, more of the business of a bookseller
in planning and executing popular works than any man of his time. In
books themselves he had much bibliographical information, but none
whatever that could be termed literary. He knew the rare volumes of his
library not only by the eye, but by the touch, when blindfolded. Thomas
Thomson saw him make this experiment, and, that it might be complete,
placed in his hand an ordinary volume instead of one of these _libri
rariores_. He said he had over-estimated his memory; he could not
recollect that volume. Constable was a violent-tempered man with those
that he dared use freedom with. He was easily overawed by people of
consequence, but, as usual, took it out of those whom poverty made
subservient to him. Yet he was generous, and far from bad-hearted. In
person good-looking, but very corpulent latterly; a large feeder, and
deep drinker, till his health became weak. He died of water in the
chest, which the natural strength of his constitution set long at
defiance. I have no great reason to regret him; yet I do. If he deceived
me, he also deceived himself.[14]

Wrote five pages to-day, and went to see Mr. Scrope, who is fast with
the gout--a bad companion to attend him

"to Athole Braes,
To shoot the dun deer down, down--
To shoot the dun deer down."

_July_ 24.--Finished five pages before eleven o'clock, at which time Mr.
Deputy Register[15] arrived from Minto, and we had an agreeable
afternoon, talking about the old days we have had together. I was
surprised to find that Thomson knew as little as I do myself how to
advise Charles to a good course of Scottish History. Hailes and
Pinkerton, Robertson and Laing--there is nothing else for it--and
Pinkerton is poor work. Laing, besides his party spirit, has a turn for
generalising, which renders him rather dull, which was not the nature of
the acute Orcadian.

_July_ 25.--Thomson left us this morn