THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 77 



to know the way to Mr. Ritchie's, where I was to dine, 

 Mr. Lizars sent a young man to show me the way, and I 

 arrived at the appointed spot just one hour too late. I 

 dined however, and dined well. Miss Scott was there, Miss 

 Combe, Mr. Weiss, and several others; but when dinner 

 was over and we ascended to the tea room, a crowd of 

 ladies and gentlemen not before seen were in waiting to 

 see the " Woodsman from America." We had music and 

 dancing, and I did not leave till a late hour and must now 

 write more for the printers. I must tell thee that some- 

 one gave a false note of one pound at my exhibition rooms, 

 and therefore I paid him well to see my birds. A man 

 who met me to-day at the door of the Institution asked 

 me if they were very well worth seeing. Dost thou think I 

 said " Yes " ? Not I ! I positively said " No ! " and off he 

 went; but a few yards off I saw him stop to talk to another 

 man, when he returned and went in. 



Thursday, December 7. I wrote as hard as I could 

 till early this morning, and finished the paper for Professor 

 Jameson, who sent me a note desiring me to put down the 

 University of Edinburgh as a subscriber to my work. 

 I was highly pleased with this, being a powerful leader. 

 I saw in this day's paper that Charles Bonaparte had ar- 

 rived at Liverpool in the " Canada " from New York. 

 How I longed to see him ! Had I been sure of his remain- 

 ing at Liverpool a few days, I positively would have gone 

 there by the evening mail-coach. I saw to-day two of 

 my drawings in proof; I was well pleased with them; 

 indeed one of them I liked better than the first that were 

 done. My dinner was at Mr. Howe's, the editor of the 

 " Courant." Mr. Allan the artist came in at nine, when his 

 lessons were just ended at the Academy of Arts, — an ex- 

 tremely agreeable man, full of gayety, wit, and good sense, 

 a great traveller in Russia, Greece, and Turkey. 



Friday, December 8, 1826. Men and their lives are 

 very like the different growths of our woods ; the noble 



VOL. I. — 12 



