_Saturday, December 16._ I have really done much to-day. At half-past nine I faced the inclement weather, crossed the bridge, passed the college regretting such a curious and valuable monument was quite buried among the antiquated, narrow streets, and dismal houses that surround it, then rang the bell, and was admitted to Baron S----'s parlor. He was still snug asleep; so that I had enjoyed four and a half hours of life while he slept. He saw me at once in his bedroom and told me that if I wrote to the Prince of Musignano at London this morning, the letter would probably reach him. I returned home, wrote my letter, or rather began it, when I received several pages from my good friend Mr. Rathbone which quite depressed me. He feared my work would not succeed on account of the unusual size; and Mrs. Rathbone, Senior, refused me the pleasure of naming a bird after her, on account of the publicity, she said; yet I longed to do so, for what greater compliment could I pay any lady than to give her name to one of the most exquisite creations of the Almighty? The whole made me most dismal, but yet not in the least discouraged or disheartened about my work. If Napoleon by perseverance and energy rose from the ranks to be an emperor, why should not Audubon with perseverance and energy be able to leave the woods of America for a time and publish and sell a book?--always supposing that Audubon has _some_ knowledge of his work, as Napoleon had _great_ knowledge of his. No, no, I shall not cease to work for this end till old age incapacitates me. I thought long over Mr. Rathbone's letter, then finished mine to Charles and put it in the post-office. I then purchased a Pigeon, killed it, packed up my wires and hammer, and at one o'clock took these things with my "position board," called a coach, and went to the meeting of the Wernerian Society at the University. Lady Morton had joined me, hence my need for the coach. Mr. Skene met me at the door, where I parted from Lady Morton, who made me promise to visit her at Dalmahoy. She is a small, handsome woman, who speaks most excellent French. Mr. Lizars joined me, and we all entered the room of the Wernerian Society of Edinburgh! The room is a plain one; two tables, one fireplace, many long benches or seats, and a chair for the president were all the furniture I saw, except a stuffed sword-fish, which lay on one of the tables for examination that day. Many persons were already present, and I unrolled the drawing of the Buzzard for them to see. Professor Jameson came in, and the meeting began. My paper on the Buzzard was the first thing, read by Patrick Neill,--not very well, as my writing was not easy reading for him. Professor Jameson then rose, and gave quite a eulogy upon it, my works, and lastly--myself. I then had the thanks of the society, and showed them my manner of putting up my specimens for drawing birds, etc.; this they thought uncommonly ingenious. Professor