appointments, which is not according to the "Academy of compliments."
But in the letter which announced his intended visit, he talked of
having received himself a visit from the Cholera Morbus. I shall be very
sorry if so unwelcome a guest be the cause of the breach of his
appointment.
_September_ 17. - Rather surprised with a letter from Lord Melville,
informing me that he and Mr. Peel had put me into the Commission for
inquiring into the condition of the Colleges in Scotland. I know little
on the subject, but I dare say as much as some of the official persons
who are inserted of course. The want of efficient men is the reason
alleged. I must of course do my best, though I have little hope of being
useful, and the time it will occupy is half ruinous to me, to whom time
is everything. Besides, I suppose the honour is partly meant as an act
of grace for _Malachi_. I shall never repent of that escapade, although
it offended persons for the time whose good opinion I value. J.B.
continues ill at Teviot Grove, as they call it. I am a little anxious
about him.
I finished my task and an extra page - hope to do another before supper.
Accomplished the said diligent purpose.
_September_ 18. - Rainy and gloomy - that small sifting rain driving on an
eastern gale which intermits not. Wrote letters to Lord Melville, etc,
and agreed to act under the Commission. Settled to be at Melville
Castle, Saturday 24th. I fear this will interfere consumedly with
business. I corrected proof-sheets, and wrote a good deal, but intend to
spend the rest of the day in reading and making notes. No bricks to be
made without straw.
[_Jedburgh_,] _September_ 19. - Circuit. Went to poor Mr. Shortreed's,
and regretted bitterly the distress of the family, though they
endeavoured to bear it bravely, and to make my reception as comfortable
and even cheerful as possible. My old friend R.S. gave me a ring found
in a grave at the Abbey, to be kept in memory of his son. I will
certainly preserve it with especial care.[342]
Many trifles at circuit, chiefly owing to the cheap whisky, as they were
almost all riots. One case of assault on a deaf and dumb woman. She was
herself the chief evidence; but being totally without education, and
having, from her situation, very imperfect notions of a Deity, and a
future state, no oath could be administered. Mr. Kinniburgh, teacher of
the deaf and dumb, was sworn interpreter, together with another person,
a neighbour, who knew the accidental or conventional signs which the
poor thing had invented for herself, as Mr. K. was supposed to
understand the more general or natural signs common to people in such a
situation. He went through the task with much address, and it was
wonderful to see them make themselves intelligible to each other by mere
pantomime. Still I did [not] consider such evidence as much to be
trusted to in a criminal case. Several previous interviews had been
necessary between the interpreter and the witness, and this is very much
like getting up a story. Some of the signs, brief in themselves, of
which Mr. K. gave long interpretations, put me in mind of Lord Burleigh
in the _Critic_: "Did he mean all this by the shake of the head?" "Yes,
if he shook his head as I taught him."[343] The man was found not
guilty. Mr. K. told us of a pupil of his whom he restored, as it may be
said, to humanity, and who told him that his ideas of another world were
that some great person in the skies lighted up the sun in the morning as
he saw his mother light her fire, and the stars in the evening as she
kindled a lamp. He said the witness had ideas of truth and falsehood,
which was, I believe, true; and that she had an idea of punishment in a
future state, which I doubt. He confessed she could not give any guess
at its duration, whether temporary or eternal. I should like to know if
Mr. K. is in that respect much wiser than his pupils. Dined, of course,
with Lord Mackenzie, the Judge.
_September_ 20. - Waked after a restless night, in which I dreamed of
poor Tom Shortreed. Breakfasted with the Rev. Dr. Somerville.[344] This
venerable gentleman is one of the oldest of the literary brotherhood - I
suppose about eighty-seven, and except a little deafness quite entire.
Living all his life in good society as a gentleman born - and having,
besides, professional calls to make among the poor - he must know, of
course, much that is curious concerning the momentous changes which have
passed under his eyes. He talks of them accordingly, and has written
something on the subject, but has scarce the force necessary to seize on
the most striking points, "_palabras,_ neighbour Verges,"[345] - gifts
which God gives. The bowl that rolls easiest along the green goes
furthest, and has least clay sticking to it. I have often noticed that a
kindly, placid good-humour is the companion of longevity, and, I
suspect, frequently the leading cause of it. Quick, keen, sharp
observation, with the power of contrast and illustration, disturbs this
easy current of thought. My good friend, the venerable Doctor, will not,
I think, die of that disease.
Called at Nesbit Mill on my cousin Charles. His wife received me better
than I deserved, for I have been a sad neglectful visitor. She has a
very pleasant countenance.
Some of the Circuit lawyers dined here, namely R. Dundas, Borthwick, the
facetious Peter Robertson,[346] Mr. R. Adam Dundas, and with them Henry
Scott of Harden.
_September_ 21. - Our party breakfasted late, and I was heavy-headed, and
did not rise till eight. Had drank a little more wine than usual, but as
our friend Othello says, "that's not much."[347] However, we dawdled
about till near noon ere all my guests left me. Then I walked a little
and cut some wood. Read afterwards. I can't get on without it. How did
I get on before? - that's a secret. Mr. Thomas Tod[348] and his wife came
to dine. We talked of old stories and got over a pleasant evening.
_September_ 22. - Still no writing. We have materials to collect. D - -n
you, Mother Duty, hold your tongue! I tell you, you know nothing of the
matter. Besides, I corrected five sheets. I wish you had to do with some
other people, just to teach you the difference. I grant that the day
being exquisite I went and thinned out the wood from the north front of
the house. Read and noted a great deal.
_September_ 23. - Wrought in the morning, but only at reading and proofs.
That cursed battle of Jena is like to cost me more time than it did
Bonaparte to gain it. I met Colonel Ferguson about one, to see his dogs
run. It is a sport I have loved well, but now, I know not why, I find it
little interesting. To be sure I used to gallop, and that I cannot now
do. We had good sport, however, and killed five hares. I felt excited
during the chase, but the feeling was but momentary. My mind was
immediately turned to other remembrances, and to pondering upon the
change which had taken place in my own feelings. The day was positively
heavenly, and the wild hillside, with our little coursing party, was
beautiful to look at. Yet I felt like a man come from the dead, looking
with indifference on that which interested him while living. So it must
be
"When once life's day is near the gloaming."[349]
We dined at Huntly Burn. Kind and comfortable as usual.
_September_ 24. - I made a rally to-day and wrote four pages, or nearly.
Never stirred abroad the whole day, but was made happy after dinner by
the return of Charles and Surtees full of their Irish jaunt, and happy
as young men are with the change of scene. To-morrow I must go to
Melville Castle. I wonder what I can do or say about these
Universities. One thing occurs - the distribution of bursaries only _ex
meritis_. That is, I would have the presentations continue in the
present patrons, but exact that those presented should be qualified by
success in their literary attainments and distinction acquired at school
to hold these scholarships. This seems to be following out the idea of
the founders, who, doubtless, intended the furthering of good
literature. To give education to dull mediocrity is a flinging of the
children's bread to dogs - it is sharpening a hatchet on a razor-strop,
which renders the strop useless, and does no good to the hatchet. Well,
something we will do.
_September_ 25. - Morning spent in making up proofs and copy. Set out for
Melville Castle with Jane, who goes on to her mother at Edinburgh.
Found Lord and Lady M. in great distress. Their son Robert is taken ill
at a Russian town about 350 miles from Moscow - dangerously ill. The
distance increases the extreme distress of the parents, who, however,
bore it like themselves. I was glad to spend a day upon the old terms
with such old friends, and believe my being with them, even in this
moment of painful suspense, as it did not diminish the kindness of my
reception, certainly rather seemed to divert them from the cruel
subject.
Dr. Nicoll, Principal of St. Andrews, dined - a very gentlemanlike
sensible man. We spoke of the visitation, of granting degrees, of public
examinations, of abolishing the election of professors by the Senatus
Academicus (a most pregnant source of jobs), and much beside - but all
desultory - and Lord M. had either nothing particular to say to me, or
was too much engrossed with his family distress to enter upon it. He
proposes to be here in the end of October.
_September_ 26. - Returned to Abbotsford after breakfast. Here is a cool
thing of my friend J.W. C[roker]. The Duke of Clarence, dining at the
Pavilion with the King, happened by choice or circumstance to sit lower
than usual at the table, and being at that time on bad terms with the
Board of Admiralty, took an opportunity to say, that were he king he
would do all that away, and assume the office of Lord High Admiral.
"Your R.H. may act with great prudence," said C[roker]. "The last
monarch who did so was James II." Presently after H.M. asked what they
were talking of. "It's only his R.H. of C," answered C[roker], "who is
so condescending as to tell us what he will do when he is king."
A long letter from R.P. Gillies. I wonder how even he could ask me to
announce myself as the author of _Annotations on German Novels_ which he
is to write.
_September_ 27. - A day of honest labour - but having much to read, proofs
to send off, etc., I was only able to execute my task by three o'clock
P.M. Then I went to direct the cutting of wood along the road in front
of the house. Dined at Chiefswood with Captain and Mrs. Hamilton, Lady
Lucy Whitmore, their guest, and neighbours from Gattonside and Huntly
Burn.
_September_ 28. - Another hard brush, and finished four pages by twelve
o'clock, then drove out to Cowdenknowes, for a morning visit. The house
is ancient and curious, though modernised by vile improvements of a
modern roof and windows. The inhabited part has over the principal door
the letters S.I.H.V.I.H. The first three indicate probably Sir John
Hume, but what are we to make of the rest? I will look at them more
heedfully one day. There is a large room said to have been built for the
reception of Queen Mary; if so, it has been much modernised. The date on
the door is 1576, which would [not] bear out the tradition. The last two
letters probably signify Lady Hume's name, but what are we to make of
the _V_? Dr. Hume thinks it means _Uxor_, but why should that word be in
Latin and the rest in Scotch?
Returned to dinner, corrected proofs, and hope still to finish another
leaf, being in light working humour. Finished the same accordingly.
[_Abbotsford_,] _September_ 29. - - A sort of zeal of working has seized
me, which I must avail myself of. No dejection of mind, and no tremor of
nerves, for which God be humbly thanked. My spirits are neither low nor
high - grave, I think, and quiet - a complete twilight of the mind.
Good news of John Lockhart from Lady Montagu, who most kindly wrote on
that interesting topic.
I wrote five pages, nearly a double task, yet wandered for three hours,
axe in hand, superintending the thinning of the home planting. That does
good too. I feel it give steadiness to my mind. Women, it is said, go
mad much seldomer than men. I fancy, if this be true, it is in some
degree owing to the little manual works in which they are constantly
employed, which regulate in some degree the current of ideas, as the
pendulum regulates the motion of the timepiece. I do not know if this is
sense or nonsense, but I am sensible that if I were in solitary
confinement, without either the power of taking exercise or employing
myself in study, six months would make me a madman or an idiot.
_September_ 30. - Wrote four pages. Honest James Ballantyne came about
five. I had been cutting wood for two hours. He brought his child, a
remarkably fine boy, well-bred, quiet, and amiable. James and I had a
good comfortable chat, the boys being at Gattonside House. I am glad to
see him bear up against misfortune like a man. "Bread we shall eat, or
white or brown," that's the moral of it, Master Muggins.
FOOTNOTES:
[333] Sir Thomas Brisbane, who had formerly commanded a brigade in the
Peninsula. In 1832 he succeeded Sir Walter Scott as President of the
Royal Society of Edinburgh. Sir Thomas had married in 1819 a daughter of
Sir Henry Hay Makdougall of Makerstoun, Bart. Sir Thomas died at
Brisbane House, Ayrshire, in January 1860, in the eighty-seventh year of
his age.
[334] For an account of this family see _The Swintons of that Ilk and
their Cadets_, 4to, 1883, a privately printed volume by A.C. Swinton of
Kimmerghame. In a letter to his friend Swinton in 1814, Scott says that
he had been reading the family pedigree "to my exceeding refreshment."
[335] One of the Abbotsford labourers.
[336] _2 Henry IV_. Act IV. Sc. 2.
[337] Mr. E.W. Auriol Drummond Hay, heir-presumptive at one time of Lord
Kinnoul, was then residing in Edinburgh, owing to his official duties in
the Lyon Office; he took a great interest in archaeological matters, and
was for two years Secretary to the Society of Antiquaries before his
departure as Consul General to the Barbary States. He died at Tangier on
the 1st March 1845.
[338] Milton's _Comus_, v. 208. - J.G.L.
[339] Lady Scott had not been quite four months dead, and the entry of
the preceding day shows how extremely ill-timed was this communication
from a gentleman with whom Sir Walter had never had any intimacy. This
was not the only proposition of the kind that reached him during his
widowhood. - J.G.L.
[340] A coil of rope.
[341] See _Life_, vol. x. 95, and _The Haigs of Bemersyde_, 8vo, Edin.
1881, edited by J. Russell.
[342] Mr. Thomas Shortreed, a young gentleman of elegant taste and
attainments, devotedly attached to Sir Walter, and much beloved in
return, had recently died. - J.G.L.
[343] See Act III. Sc. 1.
[344] The Rev. Dr. Thomas Somerville, minister of Jedburgh, author of
the _History of Great Britain during the reign of Queen Anne_, and other
works, died 14th May 1830, in the ninetieth year of his age, and
sixty-fourth of his ministry. - J.G.L. Autobiographical Memorials of his
_Life and Times_, 1741-1814, 8vo, Edinburgh, were published in 1861.
[345] _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act III. Sc. 5.
[346] Afterwards Judge in the Court of Session from 1843, author of
_Gleams of Thought reflected from Milton_, etc. It was of this witty and
humorous judge Mr. Lockhart wrote the sportive lines: -
"Here lies that peerless paper peer Lord Peter,
Who broke the laws of God and man and metre."
Lord Robertson died in 1855.
[347] Act III. Sc. 3.
[348] One of Scott's old High School mates. - _Life_, vol. i. p. 163.
[349] Burns's _Epistle to J. Smith_.
OCTOBER
_October_ 1. - Wrote my task, then walked from one till half-past four.
Dogs took a hare. They always catch one on Sunday - a Puritan would say
the devil was in them. I think I shall get more done this evening. I
would fain conclude the volume at the Treaty of Tilsit, which will make
it a pretty long one, by the by. J.B. expressed himself much pleased
with _Nap_., which gives me much courage. He is gloomy enough when
things are not well. And then I will try something at my _Canongate_.
They talk about the pitcher going to the well; but if it goes not to the
well, how shall we get water? It will bring home none when it stands on
the shelf, I trow. In literature, as in love, courage is half the
battle.
"The public born to be controlled
Stoops to the forward and the bold."
_October_ 2. - Wrote my task. Went out at one and wrought in the wood
till four. I was made happy by a letter from my nephew, little Walter,
as we used to call him, from his age and size, compared to those of his
cousin. He has been kindly received at Bombay by the Governor
Mountstuart Elphinstone, and by Sir Thomas Bradford. He is taking his
ground, I think, prudently, and is likely to get on. Already first
Lieutenant of Engineers - that is well to begin with.
Colonel Ferguson, Miss Margaret, and some ladies, friends of theirs,
dine, also Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw, and James Laidlaw, and young Mr. N.
Milne.
_October_ 3. - I wrote my task as usual, but, strange to tell, there is a
want of paper. I expect some to-day. In the meantime, to avoid all
quarrel with Dame Duty, I cut up some other leaves into the usual
statutory size. They say of a fowl that if you draw a chalk line on a
table, and lay chick-a-diddle down with his bill upon it, the poor thing
will imagine himself opposed by an insurmountable barrier, which he will
not attempt to cross. Suchlike are one-half of the obstacles which serve
to interrupt our best resolves, and such is my pretended want of paper.
It is like Sterne's want of _sous_ when he went to relieve the _Pauvre
Honteux_.
_October_ 4. - I ought to record with gratitude to God Almighty the
continued health of body and mind, which He hath vouchsafed to grant me.
I have had of late no accesses either of bile or of nervous affection,
and by mixing exercise with literary labour, I have escaped the _tremor
cordis_ which on other occasions has annoyed me cruelly. I went to the
inspection of the Selkirkshire Yeomanry, by Colonel Thornhill, 7th
Hussars. The Colonel is a remarkably fine-looking man, and has a good
address. His brow bears token of the fatigues of war. He is a great
falconer, and has promised to fly his hawks on Friday for my amusement,
and to spend the day at Abbotsford. The young Duke of B. was on the
field looking at the corps, most of whom are his tenants. They did very
well, and are fine, smart young men, and well mounted. Too few of them
though, which is a pity. The exercise is a work which in my time I have
loved well.
Finished my task at night.
_October_ 5. - I was thinking this morning that my time glided away in a
singularly monotonous manner, like one of those dark grey days which
neither promise sunshine nor threaten rain; too melancholy for
enjoyment, too tranquil for repining. But this day has brought a change
which somewhat shakes my philosophy. I find by a letter from J. Gibson
that I _may_ go to London without danger, and if I may, I in a manner
_must_, to examine the papers in the Secretary of State's office about
_Bon_. when at Saint Helena. The opportunity having been offered must be
accepted, and yet I had much rather stay at home. Even the prospect of
seeing Sophia and Lockhart must be mingled with pain, yet this is
foolish too. Lady Hamilton[350] writes me that Pozzo di Borgo,[351] the
Russian Minister at Paris, is willing to communicate to me some
particulars of Bonaparte's early life. Query - might I not go on there?
In for a penny, in for a pound. I intend to take Anne with me, and the
pleasure will be great to her, who deserves much at my hand.
_October_ 6. - Charles and his friend Surtees left us this morning.
Went to see Colonel Thornhill's hawks fly. Some part of the amusement is
very beautiful, particularly the first flight of the hawks, when they
sweep so beautifully round the company, jingling their bells from time
to time, and throwing themselves into the most elegant positions as they
gaze about for their prey. But I do not wonder that the impatience of
modern times has renounced this expensive and precarious mode of
sporting. The hawks are liable to various misfortunes, and are besides
addicted to fly away; one of ours was fairly lost for the day, and one
or two went off without permission, but returned. We killed a crow and
frightened a snipe. There are, however, ladies and gentlemen enough to
make a gallant show on the top of Mintlaw Kipps. The falconer made a
fine figure - a handsome and active young fellow with the falcon on his
wrist. The Colonel was most courteous, and named a hawk after me, which
was a compliment. The hawks are not named till they have merited that
distinction. I walked about six miles and was not fatigued.
There dined with us Colonel Thornhill, Clifton, young Whytbank, Spencer
Stanhope, and his brother, with Miss Tod and my old friend Locker,[352]
Secretary to Greenwich Hospital. We did not break up the party till one
in the morning, and were very well amused.
_October_ 7. - A weary day of rain. Locker and I chatted from time to
time, and I wrought not at _Boney_, but upon the prose works, of which I
will have a volume ready to send in on Monday. I got a letter from John
Gibson, with an offer by Longman for _Napoleon_ of ten thousand five
hundred guineas,[353] which I have advised them to accept. Also I hear
there is some doubt of my getting to London, from the indecision of
these foolish Londoners.
I don't care whether I go or no! And yet it is unpleasant to see how
one's motions depend on scoundrels like these. Besides, I would like to
be there, were it but to see how the cat jumps. One knows nothing of the
world, if you are absent from it so long as I have been.
_October_ 8. - Locker left me this morning. He is of opinion the ministry
must soon assume another form, but that the Whigs will not come in. Lord
Liverpool holds much by Lord Melville - well in point of judgment - and by
the Duke of Wellington - still better, but then the Duke is a soldier - a
bad education for a statesman in a free country. The Chancellor is also
consulted by the Premier on all law affairs. Canning and Huskisson are
at the head of the other party, who may be said to have taken the
Cabinet by storm, through sheer dint of talent. I should like to see
how these ingredients are working; but by the grace of God, I will take
care of putting my finger into the cleft stick.
Locker has promised to get my young cousin Walter Scott on some
quarter-deck or other.
Received from Mr. Cadell the second instalment advance of cash on
_Canongate_. It is in English bills and money, in case of my going to
town.
_October_ 9. - A gracious letter from Messrs. Abud and Son, bill-brokers,
etc.; assure Mr. Gibson that they will institute no legal proceedings
against me for four or five weeks. And so I am permitted to spend my
money and my leisure to improve the means of paying them their debts,
for that is the only use of my present journey. They are Jews: I suppose
the devil baits for Jews with a pork griskin. Were I not to exert
myself, I wonder where their money is to come from.
A letter from Gillies menacing the world with a foreign miscellany. The
plan is a good one, but "he canna haud it," as John Moodie[354] says. He
will think all is done when he has got a set of names, and he will find
the difficulty consists not in that, but in getting articles. I wrote on
the prose works.
Lord and Lady Minto dined and spent the night at Abbotsford.
_October_ 10. - Well, I must prepare for going to London, and perhaps to
Paris. The morning frittered away. I slept till eight o'clock, then our
guests till twelve; then walked out to direct some alterations on the
quarry, which I think may at little expense be rendered a pretty recess.
Wordsworth swears by an old quarry, and is in some degree a supreme
authority on such points. Rain came on; returned completely wet. I had
next the displeasure to find that I had lost the conclusion of vol. v.
of Napoleon, seven or eight pages at least, which I shall have to write
over again, unless I can find it. Well, as Othello says, "that's not
much." My cousin James Scott came to dinner.
I have great unwillingness to set out on this journey; I almost think it
ominous; but
"They that look to freits, my master dear,
Their freits will follow them."[355]
I will stick to my purpose. Answered a letter from Gillies about
establishing a foreign journal; a good plan, but I fear in sorry hands.
Of those he names as his assistants they who can be useful will do
little, and the labours of those who are willing to work will rather
hold the publication down. I fear it will not do.
I am downhearted about leaving all my things, after I was quietly
settled; it is a kind of disrooting that recalls a thousand painful
ideas of former happier journeys. And to be at the mercy of these
fellows! God help - but rather God bless - man must help himself.
_October_ 11. - We are ingenious self-tormentors. This journey annoys me
more than anything of the kind in my life. My wife's figure seems to
stand before me, and her voice is in my ears - "Scott, do not go." It
half frightens me. Strong throbbing at my heart, and a disposition to be
very sick. It is just the effect of so many feelings which had been
lulled asleep by the uniformity of my life, but which awaken on any new
subject of agitation. Poor, poor Charlotte!! I cannot daub it further. I
get incapable of arranging my papers too. I will go out for
half-an-hour. God relieve me!
I quelled this _hysterica passio_ by pushing a walk towards Kaeside and
back again, but when I returned I still felt uncomfortable, and all the
papers I wanted were out of the way, and all those I did not want seemed
to place themselves under my fingers; my cash, according to the nature
of riches in general, made to itself wings and fled, I verily believe
from one hiding-place to another. To appease this insurrection of the
papers, I gave up putting my things in order till to-morrow morning.
Dined at Kippielaw with a party of neighbours. They had cigars for me,
very politely. But I must break folks off this. I would [not] willingly
be like old Dr. Parr, or any such quiz, who has his tastes and whims,
forsooth, that must be gratified. So no cigars on the journey.
_October_ 12.[356] - Reduced my rebellious papers to order. Set out after
breakfast, and reached Carlisle at eight o'clock at night.
_Rokeby Park, October_ 13. - We were off before seven, and visiting
Appleby Castle by the way (a most interesting and curious place), we got
to Morritt's[357] about half-past four, where we had as warm a welcome
as one of the warmest hearts in the world could give an old friend. I
saw his nephew's wife for the first time, a very pleasing young person.
It was great pleasure to me to see Morritt happy in the midst of his
family circle, undisturbed, as heretofore, by the sickness of any dear
to him.
On recalling my own recollections during my journey I may note that I
found great pleasure in my companion's conversation, as well as in her
mode of managing all her little concerns on the road. I am apt to judge
of character by good-humour and alacrity in these petty concerns. I
think the inconveniences of a journey seem greater to me than formerly;
while, on the other hand, the pleasures it affords are rather less. The
ascent of Stainmore seemed duller and longer than usual, and Bowes,
which used to strike me as a distinguished feature, seemed an ill-formed
mass of rubbish, a great deal lower than I had supposed; yet I have seen
it twenty times at least. On the other hand, what I lose in my own
personal feelings I gain in those of my companion, who shows an
intelligent curiosity and interest in what she sees. I enjoy therefore,
reflectively, _veluti in speculo_, the sort of pleasure to which I am
now less accessible.
_October_ 14. - Strolled about in the morning with Morritt, and saw his
new walk up the Tees, which he is just concocting. Got a pamphlet he has
written on the Catholic Question. In 1806 he had other views on that
subject, but "live and learn" as they say. One of his squibs against Fox
and Grenville's Administration concludes -
"Though they sleep with the devil, yet theirs is the hope,
On the scum of old England, to rise with the Pope."
Set off at two, and reached Wetherby to supper and bed.
It was the Corporation of Leeds that by a subscription of £80,000
brought in the anti-Catholic candidate. I remember their subscribing a
similar sum to bring in Morritt, if he would have stood.
Saw in Morritt's possession an original miniature of Milton by Cooper - a
valuable thing indeed. The pedigree seemed authentic. It was painted
for his favourite daughter - had come into possession of some of the
Davenants - was then in the Devonshire collection from which it was
stolen. Afterwards purchased by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and at his sale by
Morritt or his father.[358] The countenance handsome and dignified, with
a strong expression of genius, probably the only portrait of Milton
taken from the life excepting the drawing from which Faithorne's head is
done.
[_Grantham_,] _October_ 15. - Old England is no changeling. It is long
since I travelled this road, having come up to town chiefly by sea of
late years, but things seem much the same. One race of red-nosed
innkeepers are gone, and their widows, eldest sons, or head-waiters
exercise hospitality in their room with the same bustle and importance.
Other things seem, externally at least, much the same. The land,
however, is much better ploughed; straight ridges everywhere adopted in
place of the old circumflex of twenty years ago. Three horses, however,
or even four, are often seen in a plough yoked one before the other. Ill
habits do not go out at once. We slept at Grantham, where we met with
Captain William Lockhart and his lady, bound for London like ourselves.
[_Biggleswade_,] _October_ 16. - Visited Burleigh this morning; the first
time I ever saw that grand place, where there are so many objects of
interest and curiosity. The house is magnificent, in the style of James
I.'s reign, and consequently in mixed Gothic. Of paintings I know
nothing; so shall attempt to say nothing. But whether to connoisseurs,
or to an ignorant admirer like myself, the Salvator Mundi, by Carlo
Dolci, must seem worth a King's ransom. Lady Exeter, who was at home,
had the goodness or curiosity to wish to see us. She is a beauty after
my own heart; a great deal of liveliness in the face; an absence alike
of form and of affected ease, and really courteous after a genuine and
ladylike fashion.
We reached Biggleswade to-night at six, and paused here to wait for the
Lockharts. Spent the evening together.
[_Pall Mall_,] _October_ 17. - Here am I in this capital once more, after
an April-weather meeting with my daughter and Lockhart. Too much grief
in our first meeting to be joyful; too much pleasure to be
distressing - a giddy sensation between the painful and the pleasurable.
I will call another subject.
Read over _Sir John Chiverton_[359] and _Brambletye House_[360] - novels
in what I may surely claim as the style
"Which I was born to introduce -
Refined it first, and show'd its use."
They are both clever books; one in imitation of the days of chivalry;
the other (by Horace Smith, one of the authors of the _Rejected
Addresses_) dated in the time of the Civil Wars, and introducing
historical characters. I read both with great interest during the
journey.
I am something like Captain Bobadil[361] who trained up a hundred
gentlemen to fight very nearly, if not altogether, as well as myself.
And so far I am convinced of this, that I believe were I to publish the
_Canongate Chronicles_ without my name (_nom de guerre_, I mean) the
event would be a corollary to the fable of the peasant who made the real
pig squeak against the imitator, while the sapient audience hissed the
poor grunter as if inferior to the biped in his own language. The
peasant could, indeed, confute the long-eared multitude by showing
piggy; but were I to fail as a knight with a white and maiden shield,
and then vindicate my claim to attention by putting "By the Author of
_Waverley_" in the title, my good friend _Publicum_ would defend itself
by stating I had tilted so ill, that my course had not the least
resemblance to my former doings, when indisputably I bore away the
garland. Therefore I am as firmly and resolutely determined that I will
tilt under my own cognisance. The hazard, indeed, remains of being
beaten. But there is a prejudice (not an undue one neither) in favour of
the original patentee; and Joe Manton's name has borne out many a sorry
gun-barrel. More of this to-morrow.
Expense of journey, £4100
Anne, pocket-money, 500
Servants on journey, 200
Cash in purse (silver not reckoned), 200
____
£5000
____
This is like to be an expensive journey; but if I can sell an early copy
of the work to a French translator, it should bring me home.
Thank God, little Johnnie Hoo, as he calls himself, is looking well,
though the poor dear child is kept always in a prostrate posture.
_October_ 18. - I take up again my remarks on imitators. I am sure I mean
the gentlemen no wrong by calling them so, and heartily wish they had
followed a better model; but it serves to show me _veluti in speculo_ my
own errors, or, if you will, those of the _style_. One advantage, I
think, I still have over all of them. They may do their fooling with
better grace; but I, like Sir Andrew Aguecheek, do it more
natural.[362] They have to read old books and consult antiquarian
collections to get their knowledge; I write because I have long since
read such works, and possess, thanks to a strong memory, the information
which they have to seek for. This leads to a dragging-in historical
details by head and shoulders, so that the interest of the main piece is
lost in minute descriptions of events which do not affect its progress.
Perhaps I have sinned in this way myself; indeed, I am but too conscious
of having considered the plot only as what Bayes[363] calls the means of
bringing in fine things; so that in respect to the descriptions, it
resembled the string of the showman's box, which he pulls to show in
succession Kings, Queens, the Battle of Waterloo, Bonaparte at Saint
Helena, Newmarket Races, and White-headed Bob floored by Jemmy from
town. All this I may have done, but I have repented of it; and in my
better efforts, while I conducted my story through the agency of
historical personages, and by connecting it with historical incidents, I
have endeavoured to weave them pretty closely together, and in future I
will study this more. Must not let the background eclipse the principal
figures - the frame overpower the picture.
Another thing in my favour is, that my contemporaries steal too openly.
Mr. Smith has inserted in _Brambletye House_ whole pages from Defoe's
_Fire and Plague of London_.
"Steal! foh! a fico for the phrase -
Convey, the wise it call!"[364]
When I _convey_ an incident or so, I am at as much pains to avoid
detection as if the offence could be indicted in literal fact at the Old
Bailey.
But leaving this, hard pressed as I am by these imitators, who must put
the thing out of fashion at last, I consider, like a fox at his last
shifts, whether there be a way to dodge them, some new device to throw
them off, and have a mile or two of free ground, while I have legs and
wind left to use it. There is one way to give novelty: to depend for
success on the interest of a well-contrived story. But woe's me! that
requires thought, consideration - the writing out a regular plan or
plot - above all the adhering to one - which I never can do, for the ideas
rise as I write, and bear such a disproportioned extent to that which
each occupied at the first concoction, that (cocksnowns!) I shall never
be able to take the trouble; and yet to make the world stare, and gain a
new march ahead of them all!!! Well, something we still will do.
"Liberty's in every blow;
Let us do or die!"
Poor Rob Burns! to tack thy fine strains of sublime patriotism! Better
take Tristram Shandy's vein. Hand me my cap and bells there. So now, I
am equipped. I open my raree-show with
Ma'am, will you walk in, and fal de ral diddle?
And, sir, will you stalk in, and fal de ral diddle?
And, miss, will you pop in, and fal de ral diddle?
And, master, pray hop in, and fal de ral diddle?
Query - How long is it since I heard that strain of dulcet mood, and
where or how came I to pick it up? It is not mine, "though by your
smiling you seem to say so."[365] Here is a proper morning's work! But I
am childish with seeing them all well and happy here; and as I can
neither whistle nor sing, I must let the giddy humour run to waste on
paper.
Sallied forth in the morning; bought a hat. Met S[ir] W[illiam]
K[nighton],[366] from whose discourse I guess that _Malachi_ has done me
no prejudice in a certain quarter; with more indications of the times,
which I need not set down. Sallied again after breakfast, and visited
the Piccadilly ladies.[367] Saw Rogers and Richard Sharp, also good Dr.
and Mrs. Hughes, also the Duchess of Buckingham, and Lady Charlotte
Bury, with a most beautiful little girl. [Owen] Rees breakfasted, and
agreed I should have what the Frenchman has offered for the advantage of
translating _Napoleon_, which, being a hundred guineas, will help my
expenses to town and down again.
_October_ 19. - I rose at my usual time, but could not write; so read
Southey's _History of the Peninsular War_. It is very good
indeed, - honest English principle in every line; but there are many
prejudices, and there is a tendency to augment a work already too long
by saying all that can be said of the history of ancient times
appertaining to every place mentioned. What care we whether Saragossa be
derived from Caesarea Augusta? Could he have proved it to be Numantium,
there would have been a concatenation accordingly.[368]
Breakfasted at Rogers' with Sir Thomas Lawrence; Luttrell, the great
London wit;[369] Richard Sharp, etc. Sam made us merry with an account
of some part of Rose's _Ariosto_; proposed that the Italian should be
printed on the other side for the sake of assisting the indolent reader
to understand the English; and complained of his using more than once
the phrase of a lady having "voided her saddle," which would certainly
sound extraordinary at Apothecaries' Hall. Well, well, Rose carries a
dirk too.[370] The morning was too dark for Westminster Abbey, which we
had projected.
I went to the Foreign Office, and am put by Mr. Wilmot Horton into the
hands of a confidential clerk, Mr. Smith, who promises access to
everything. Then saw Croker, who gave me a bundle of documents. Sir
George Cockburn promises his despatches and journal. In short, I have
ample prospect of materials.
Dined with Mrs. Coutts. Tragi-comic distress of my good friend on the