February 14.—­I had hardly begun my letter to Mr. Cadell than I began also to “pull in resolution."[428] I considered that I had no means of retreat; and that in all my sober moments, meaning my unpassionate ones, for the doctors have taken from me the means of producing Dutch courage, I have looked on political writing as a false step, and especially now when I have a good deal at stake.  So, upon the whole, I cancelled the letter announcing the publication.  If this was actually meanness it is a foible nobody knows of.  Anne set off for Edinburgh after breakfast.  Poor girl, she is very nervous.  I wrote with Mr. L. till one—­then had a walk till three—­then wrote this diary till four.  Must try to get something for Mr. Laidlaw, for I am afraid I am twaddling.  I do not think my head is weakened, but a strange vacillation makes me suspect.  Is it not thus that men begin to fail, becoming, as it were, infirm of purpose,

    “... that way madness lies; let me shun that: 
    No more of that ..."[429]

Yet, why be a child about it? what must be, will be.

February 15.—­I wrote and corrected through the long day till one o’clock; then rode out as far as Dr. Scott’s, and called on him.  Got a fresh dose of proofs at Mathieson’s, and returned home.  At nine o’clock at night had a card from Miss Bell [Maclachlan], wishing to speak to me about some Highland music.  Wrote for answer I knew nothing of the matter, but would be happy to see Mrs. and Miss Bell to breakfast.  I had a letter of introduction by Robert Chambers, which I declined, being then unwell.  But as Trotter of Braid said, “The ladies maun come.”

February 16.—­Mrs. and Miss Bell Maclachlan of the West Highlands, mother and daughter, made their way to me to breakfast.  I did not wish to see them, being strangers; but she is very pretty—­that is, the daughter—­and enthusiastic, and that is always flattering to an old gentleman.  She wishes to have words to Celtic melodies, and I have promised her some, to the air of Crochallan, and incline to do her good, perhaps, to the extent of getting her words from Lord Francis Leveson Gower, Lockhart, and one or two others.  We parted, she pleased with my willing patronage, and I with an uncommon handsome countenance she showed me.

This detained Mr. Laidlaw re infecta, and before I had written a page the pony came to the door; but wrote something after dinner.

February 17 and 18.—­We had the usual course of food, study, and exercise in the forenoon.  Was extremely sleepy in the afternoon, which made, I fear, but bad work.  We progress, however.  In riding met Sir Adam Ferguson, and asked him and his brother the Colonel to dinner to-morrow.  Wrote in the meantime as usual.

February 19.—­Plagued by the stay for leg starting a screw bolt, which is very inconvenient.  Sent off, this morning, proofs as far as end of first volume, and 20 manuscript pages, equal to about a quarter of the second.  Is it good or not?  I cannot say.  I think it better as it goes on; and so far so good.  I am certain I have written worse abomination, as John Ballantyne, poor fellow, used to say.