_November 1._ I breakfasted at Professor Jameson's. A most splendid house, splendid everything, breakfast to boot. The professor wears his hair in three distinct, different courses; when he sits fronting the south, for instance, the hair on his forehead bends westwardly, the hair behind eastwardly, and the very short hair on top mounts directly upward, perhaps somewhat like the quills of the "fretful porcupine." But never mind the ornamental, external appendages of his skull, the sense _within_ is great, and full of the nobleness which comes from a kind, generous heart. Professor Jameson to-day is no more the man I took him to be when I first met him. He showed me an uncommon degree of cordiality, and promised me his powerful assistance so forcibly that I am sure I can depend upon him. I left him and his sister at ten, as we both have much to do besides talking, and drinking hot, well creamed coffee; but our separation was not long, for at noon he entered my room with several gentlemen to see my drawings. Till four I was occupied showing one picture after another, holding each one at arm's-length, and was very tired, and my left arm once I thought had an idea of revolutionizing. When my guests had gone I walked out, took plenty of needed exercise, often hearing remarks about myself such as "That's a German physician;" "There's a French nobleman." I ended my walk at Mr. Lizars', and while with him expressed a wish to secure some views of beautiful Edinburgh; he went to another room and brought in a book of views for me to look at, which I did with interest. He then asked me to draw something for him, and as I finished a vignette he pushed the book of superb Edinburgh towards me; on the first leaf he had written, "To John J. Audubon, as a very imperfect expression of the regard entertained for his abilities as an artist, and for his worth as a friend, by William H. Lizars, engraver of the 'Views of Edinburgh.'" I saw--though by gas-light--some of Mr. Lizars' work, printing from copper, coloring with water-color and oils, etc., on the same, for the first time in my life. How little I know! how ignorant I am! but I will learn. I went to bed after reading Sir Walter's last novel till I was so pleased with the book that I put it under my pillow to dream about, as children do at Christmas time; but my dreams all went another way and I dreamed of the beech woods in my own dear land.