power - perhaps cannot exist to great extent. The wheels of a machine, to
play rapidly, must not fit with the utmost exactness, else the attrition
diminishes the impetus.
Another of Byron's peculiarities was the love of mystifying; which
indeed may be referred to that of mischief. There was no knowing how
much or how little to believe of his narratives. Instance: - Mr.
Bankes[23] expostulating with him upon a dedication which he had written
in extravagant terms of praise to Cam Hobhouse, Byron told him that Cam
had teased him into the dedication till he had said, "Well; it shall be
so, - providing you will write the dedication yourself"; and affirmed
that Cam Hobhouse did write the high-coloured dedication accordingly. I
mentioned this to Murray, having the report from Will Rose, to whom
Bankes had mentioned it. Murray, in reply, assured me that the
dedication was written by Lord Byron himself, and showed it me in his
own hand. I wrote to Rose to mention the thing to Bankes, as it might
have made mischief had the story got into the circle. Byron was disposed
to think all men of imagination were addicted to mix fiction (or poetry)
with their prose. He used to say he dared believe the celebrated
courtezan of Venice, about whom Rousseau makes so piquante a story, was,
if one could see her, a draggle-tailed wench enough. I believe that he
embellished his own amours considerably, and that he was, in many
respects, _le fanfaron de vices qu'il n'avoit pas_. He loved to be
thought awful, mysterious, and gloomy, and sometimes hinted at strange
causes. I believe the whole to have been the creation and sport of a
wild and powerful fancy. In the same manner he _crammed_ people, as it
is termed, about duels, etc., which never existed, or were much
exaggerated.
Constable has been here as lame as a duck upon his legs, but his heart
and courage as firm as a cock. He has convinced me we will do well to
support the London House. He has sent them about £5000, and proposes we
should borrow on our joint security £5000 for their accommodation. J.B.
and R. Cadell present. I must be guided by them, and hope for the best.
Certainly to part company would be to incur an awful risk.
What I liked about Byron, besides his boundless genius, was his
generosity of spirit as well as purse, and his utter contempt of all the
affectations of literature, from the school-magisterial style to the
lackadaisical. Byron's example has formed a sort of upper house of
poetry. There is Lord Leveson Gower, a very clever young man.[24] Lord
Porchester too,[25] nephew to Mrs. Scott of Harden, a young man who lies
on the carpet and looks poetical and dandyish - fine lad too, but -
"There will be many peers
Ere such another Byron."
Talking of Abbotsford, it begins to be haunted by too much company of
every kind, but especially foreigners. I do not like them. I hate fine
waistcoats and breast-pins upon dirty shirts. I detest the impudence
that pays a stranger compliments, and harangues about his works in the
author's house, which is usually ill-breeding. Moreover, they are seldom
long of making it evident that they know nothing about what they are
talking of, except having seen the Lady of the Lake at the Opera.
Dined at St. Catherine's[26] with Lord Advocate, Lord and Lady Melville,
Lord Justice-Clerk,[27] Sir Archibald Campbell of Succoth, all class
companions and acquainted well for more than forty years. All except
Lord J.C. were at Fraser's class, High School.[28] Boyle joined us at
college. There are, besides, Sir Adam Ferguson, Colin Mackenzie, James
Hope, Dr. James Buchan, Claud Russell, and perhaps two or three more of
and about the same period - but
"Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto."[29]
_November 24._ - Talking of strangers, London held, some four or five
years since, one of those animals who are lions at first, but by
transmutation of two seasons become in regular course Boars! - Ugo
Foscolo by name, a haunter of Murray's shop and of literary parties.
Ugly as a baboon, and intolerably conceited, he spluttered, blustered,
and disputed, without even knowing the principles upon which men of
sense render a reason, and screamed all the while like a pig when they
cut its throat. Another such Animaluccio is a brute of a Sicilian
Marquis de - - who wrote something about Byron. He inflicted two days
on us at Abbotsford. They never know what to make of themselves in the
forenoon, but sit tormenting the women to play at proverbs and such
trash.
_Foreigner of a different cast_, - Count Olonym (Olonyne - that's it), son
of the President of the Royal Society and a captain in the Imperial
Guards. He is mean-looking and sickly, but has much sense, candour, and
general information. There was at Abbotsford, and is here, for education
just now, a young Count Davidoff, with a tutor Mr. Collyer. He is a
nephew of the famous Orloffs. It is quite surprising how much sense and
sound thinking this youth has at the early age of sixteen, without the
least self-conceit or forwardness. On the contrary, he seems kind,
modest, and ingenuous.[30] To questions which I asked about the state of
Russia he answered with the precision and accuracy of twice his years. I
should be sorry the saying were verified in him -
"So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long."[31]
Saw also at Abbotsford two Frenchmen whom I liked, friends of Miss
Dumergue. One, called Le Noir, is the author of a tragedy which he had
the grace never to quote, and which I, though poked by some malicious
persons, had _not_ the grace even to hint at. They were disposed at
first to be complimentary, but I convinced them it was not the custom
here, and they took it well, and were agreeable.
A little bilious this morning, for the first time these six months. It
cannot be the London matters which stick on my stomach, for that is
mending, and may have good effects on myself and others.
Dined with Robert Cockburn. Company, Lord Melville and family; Sir John
and Lady Hope; Lord and Lady R. Kerr, and so forth. Combination of
colliers general, and coals up to double price; the men will not work,
_although_, or rather _because_, they can make from thirty to forty
shillings per week. Lord R.K. told us that he had a letter from Lord
Forbes (son of Earl Granard, Ireland), that he was asleep in his house
at Castle Forbes, when awakened by a sense of suffocation which deprived
him of the power of stirring a limb, yet left him the consciousness that
the house was on fire. At this moment, and while his apartment was in
flames, his large dog jumped on the bed, seized his shirt, and dragged
him to the staircase, where the fresh air restored his powers of
exertion and of escape. This is very different from most cases of
preservation of life by the canine race, when the animal generally jumps
into the water, in which [element] he has force and skill. That of fire
is as hostile to him as to mankind.
_November_ 25. - Read Jeffrey's neat and well-intended address[32] to the
mechanics upon their combinations. Will it do good? Umph. It takes only
the hand of a Lilliputian to light a fire, but would require the
diuretic powers of Gulliver to extinguish it. The Whigs will live and
die in the heresy that the world is ruled by little pamphlets and
speeches, and that if you can sufficiently demonstrate that a line of
conduct is most consistent with men's interest, you have therefore and
thereby demonstrated that they will at length, after a few speeches on
the subject, adopt it of course. In this case we would have [no] need of
laws or churches, for I am sure there is no difficulty in proving that
moral, regular, and steady habits conduce to men's best interest, and
that vice is not sin merely, but folly. But of these men each has
passions and prejudices, the gratification of which he prefers, not only
to the general weal, but to that of himself as an individual. Under the
action of these wayward impulses a man drinks to-day though he is sure
of starving to-morrow. He murders to-morrow though he is sure to be
hanged on Wednesday; and people are so slow to believe that which makes
against their own predominant passions, that mechanics will combine to
raise the price for one week, though they destroy the manufacture for
ever. The best remedy seems to be the probable supply of labourers from
other trades. Jeffrey proposes each mechanic shall learn some other
trade than his own, and so have two strings to his bow. He does not
consider the length of a double apprenticeship. To make a man a good
weaver and a good tailor would require as much time as the patriarch
served for his two wives, and after all, he would be but a poor workman
at either craft. Each mechanic has, indeed, a second trade, for he can
dig and do rustic work. Perhaps the best reason for breaking up the
association will prove to be the expenditure of the money which they
have been simple enough to levy from the industrious for the support of
the idle. How much provision for the sick and the aged, the widow and
the orphan, has been expended in the attempt to get wages which the
manufacturer cannot afford them, with any profitable chance of selling
his commodity?
I had a bad fall last night coming home. There were unfinished houses at
the east end of Atholl Place,[33] and as I was on foot, I crossed the
street to avoid the material which lay about; but, deceived by the
moonlight, I stepped ankle-deep in a sea of mud (honest earth and water,
thank God), and fell on my hands. Never was there such a representative
of _Wall_ in Pyramus and Thisbe - I was absolutely rough-cast. Luckily
Lady S. had retired when I came home; so I enjoyed my tub of water
without either remonstrance or condolences. Cockburn's hospitality will
get the benefit and renown of my downfall, and yet has no claim to it.
In future though, I must take a coach at night - a control on one's
freedom, but it must be submitted to. I found a letter from [R.]
C[adell], giving a cheering account of things in London. Their
correspondent is getting into his strength. Three days ago I would have
been contented to buy this _consola_, as Judy says,[34] dearer than by a
dozen falls in the mud. For had the great Constable fallen, O my
countrymen, what a fall were there!
[Sidenote: _N.B._ Within eight weeks after recording this graceful act
of submission, I found I was unable to keep a carriage at all.]
Mrs. Coutts, with the Duke of St. Albans and Lady Charlotte Beauclerk,
called to take leave of us. When at Abbotsford his suit throve but
coldly. She made me, I believe, her confidant in sincerity.[35] She had
refused him twice, and decidedly. He was merely on the footing of
friendship. I urged it was akin to love. She allowed she might marry the
Duke, only she had at present not the least intention that way. Is this
frank admission more favourable for the Duke than an absolute
protestation against the possibility of such a marriage? I think not. It
is the fashion to attend Mrs. Coutts' parties and to abuse her. I have
always found her a kind, friendly woman, without either affectation or
insolence in the display of her wealth, and most willing to do good if
the means be shown to her. She can be very entertaining too, as she
speaks without scruple of her stage life. So much wealth can hardly be
enjoyed without some ostentation. But what then? If the Duke marries
her, he ensures an immense fortune; if she marries him, she has the
first rank. If he marries a woman older than himself by twenty years,
she marries a man younger in wit by twenty degrees. I do not think he
will dilapidate her fortune - he seems quiet and gentle. I do not think
that she will abuse his softness - of disposition, shall I say, or of
heart? The disparity of ages concerns no one but themselves; so they
have my consent to marry, if they can get each other's. Just as this is
written, enter my Lord of St. Albans and Lady Charlotte, to beg I would
recommend a book of sermons to Mrs. Coutts. Much obliged for her good
opinion: recommended Logan's[36] - one poet should always speak for
another. The mission, I suppose, was a little display on the part of
good Mrs. Coutts of authority over her high aristocratic suitor. I do
not suspect her of turning _dévote_, and retract my consent given as
above, unless she remains "lively, brisk, and jolly."[37]
Dined quiet with wife and daughter. R[obert] Cadell looked in in the
evening on business.
I here register my purpose to practise economics. I have little
temptation to do otherwise. Abbotsford is all that I can make it, and
too large for the property; so I resolve -
No more building;
No purchases of land till times are quite safe;
No buying books or expensive trifles - I mean to any extent; and
Clearing off encumbrances, with the returns of this year's labour; -
Which resolutions, with health and my habits of industry, will make me
"sleep in spite of thunder."
After all, it is hard that the vagabond stock-jobbing Jews should, for
their own purposes, make such a shake of credit as now exists in London,
and menace the credit of men trading on sure funds like H[urst] and
R[obinson]. It is just like a set of pickpockets, who raise a mob, in
which honest folks are knocked down and plundered, that they may pillage
safely in the midst of the confusion they have excited.
[Sidenote: I was obliged to give this up in consequence of my own
misfortunes.]
_November_ 26. - The court met late, and sat till _one_; detained from
that hour till four o'clock, being engaged in the perplexed affairs of
Mr. James Stewart of Brugh. This young gentleman is heir to a property
of better than £1000 a year in Orkney. His mother married very young,
and was wife, mother, and widow in the course of the first year. Being
unfortunately under the direction of a careless agent, she was unlucky
enough to embarrass her own affairs by many transactions with this
person. I was asked to accept the situation of one of the son's
curators; and trust to clear out his affairs and hers - at least I will
not fail for want of application. I have lent her £300 on a second (and
therefore doubtful) security over her house in Newington, bought for
£1000, and on which £600 is already secured. I have no connection with
the family except that of compassion, and may not be rewarded even by
thanks when the young man comes of age. I have known my father often so
treated by those whom he had laboured to serve. But if we do not run
some hazard in our attempts to do good, where is the merit of them? So I
will bring through my Orkney laird if I can. Dined at home quiet with
Lady S. and Anne.
_November_ 27. - Some time since John Murray entered into a contract with
my son-in-law, John G. Lockhart, giving him on certain ample conditions
the management and editorship of the _Quarterly Review_, for which they
could certainly scarcely find a fitter person, both from talents and
character. It seems that Barrow[38] and one or two stagers have taken
alarm at Lockhart's character as a satirist, and his supposed accession
to some of the freaks in _Blackwood's Magazine_, and down comes young
D'Israeli[39] to Scotland imploring Lockhart to make interest with my
friends in London to remove objections, and so forth. I have no idea of
telling all and sundry that my son-in-law is not a slanderer, or a silly
thoughtless lad, although he was six or seven years ago engaged in some
light satires. I only wrote to Heber and to Southey - the first upon the
subject of the reports which had startled Murray, (the most timorous, as
Byron called him, of all God's booksellers), and such a letter as he may
show Barrow if he judges proper. To Southey I wrote more generally,
acquainting him of my son's appointment to the Editorship, and
mentioning his qualifications, touching, at the same time, on his very
slight connection with _Blackwood's Magazine_, and his innocence as to
those gambades which may have given offence, and which, I fear, they may
ascribe too truly to an eccentric neighbour of their own. I also
mentioned that I had heard nothing of the affair until the month of
October. I am concerned that Southey should know this; for, having been
at the Lakes in September, I would not have him suppose that I had been
using interest with Canning or Ellis to supersede young Mr.
Coleridge,[40] their editor, and place my son-in-law in the situation;
indeed I was never more surprised than when this proposal came upon us.
I suppose it had come from Canning originally, as he was sounding Anne
when at Colonel Bolton's[41] about Lockhart's views, etc. To me he never
hinted anything on the subject. Other views are held out to Lockhart
which may turn to great advantage. Only one person (John Cay[42] of
Charlton) knows their object, and truly I wish it had not been confided
to any one. Yesterday I had a letter from Murray in answer to one I had
written in something a determined style, for I had no idea of permitting
him to start from the course after my son giving up his situation and
profession, merely because a contributor or two chose to suppose
gratuitously that Lockhart was too imprudent for the situation. My
physic has wrought well, for it brought a letter from Murray saying all
was right, that D'Israeli was sent to me, not to Lockhart, and that I
was only invited to write two confidential letters, and other
incoherencies - which intimate his fright has got into another quarter.
It is interlined and franked by Barrow, which shows that all is well,
and that John's induction into his office will be easy and pleasant. I
have not the least fear of his success; his talents want only a worthy
sphere of exertion. He must learn, however, to despise petty
adversaries. No good sportsman ought to shoot at crows unless for some
special purpose. To take notice of such men as Hazlitt and Hunt in the
_Quarterly_ would be to introduce them into a world which is scarce
conscious of their existence. It is odd enough that many years since I
had the principal share in erecting this _Review_ which has been since
so prosperous, and now it is placed under the management of my
son-in-law upon the most honourable principle of _detur digniori_. Yet
there are sad drawbacks so far as family comfort is concerned. To-day is
Sunday, when they always dined with us, and generally met a family
friend or two, but we are no longer to expect them. In the country,
where their little cottage was within a mile or two of Abbotsford, we
shall miss their society still more, for Chiefswood was the perpetual
object of our walks, rides, and drives. Lockhart is such an excellent
family man, so fond of his wife and child, that I hope all will go
well. A letter from Lockhart in the evening. All safe as to his
unanimous reception in London; his predecessor, young [Coleridge],
handsomely, and like a gentleman, offers his assistance as a
contributor, etc.
_November_ 28. - I have the less dread, or rather the less anxiety, about
the consequences of this migration, that I repose much confidence in
Sophia's tact and good sense. Her manners are good, and have the
appearance of being perfectly natural. She is quite conscious of the
limited range of her musical talents, and never makes them common or
produces them out of place, - a rare virtue; moreover she is proud
enough, and will not be easily netted and patronised by any of that
class of ladies who may be called Lion-providers for town and country.
She is domestic besides, and will not be disposed to gad about. Then she
seems an economist, and on £3000,[43] living quietly, there should be
something to save. Lockhart must be liked where his good qualities are
known, and where his fund of information has room to be displayed. But,
notwithstanding a handsome exterior and face, I am not sure he will
succeed in London Society; he sometimes reverses the proverb, and gives
the _volte strette e pensiere sciolti_, withdraws his attention from the
company, or attaches himself to some individual, gets into a corner, and
seems to be quizzing the rest. This is the want of early habits of being
in society, and a life led much at college. Nothing is, however, so
popular, and so deservedly so, as to take an interest in whatever is
going forward in society. A wise man always finds his account in it, and
will receive information and fresh views of life even in the society of
fools. Abstain from society altogether when you are not able to play
some part in it. This reserve, and a sort of Hidalgo air joined to his
character as a satirist, have done the best-humoured fellow in the world
some injury in the opinion of Edinburgh folks. In London it is of less
consequence whether he please in general society or not, since if he can
establish himself as a genius it will only be called "Pretty Fanny's
Way."
People make me the oddest requests. It is not unusual for an Oxonian or
Cantab, who has outrun his allowance, and of whom I know nothing, to
apply to me for the loan of £20, £50, or £100. A captain of the Danish
naval service writes to me, that being in distress for a sum of money by
which he might transport himself to Columbia, to offer his services in
assisting to free that province, he had dreamed I generously made him a
present of it. I can tell him his dream by contraries. I begin to find,
like Joseph Surface, that too good a character is inconvenient. I don't
know what I have done to gain so much credit for generosity, but I
suspect I owe it to being supposed, as Puff[44] says, one of those "whom
Heaven has blessed with affluence." Not too much of that neither, my
dear petitioners, though I may thank myself that your ideas are not
correct.
Dined at Melville Castle, whither I went through a snow-storm. I was
glad to find myself once more in a place connected with many happy days.
Met Sir R. Dundas and my old friend George, now Lord Abercromby,[45]
with his lady, and a beautiful girl, his daughter. He is what he always
was - the best-humoured man living; and our meetings, now more rare than
usual, are seasoned with a recollection of old frolics and old friends.
I am entertained to see him just the same he has always been, never
yielding up his own opinion in fact, and yet in words acquiescing in all
that could be said against it. George was always like a willow - he never
offered resistance to the breath of argument, but never moved from his
rooted opinion, blow as it listed. Exaggeration might make these
peculiarities highly dramatic: Conceive a man who always seems to be
acquiescing in your sentiments, yet never changes his own, and this with
a sort of _bonhomie_ which shows there is not a particle of deceit
intended. He is only desirous to spare you the trouble of contradiction.
_November_ 29. - A letter from Southey, malcontent about Murray having
accomplished the change in the _Quarterly_ without speaking to him, and
quoting the twaddle of some old woman, male or female, about Lockhart's
earlier _jeux d'esprit_, but concluding most kindly that in regard to my
daughter and me he did not mean to withdraw. That he has done yeoman's
service to the _Review_ is certain, with his genius, his universal
reading, his powers of regular industry, and at the outset a name which,
though less generally popular than it deserves, is still too respectable
to be withdrawn without injury. I could not in reply point out to him
what is the truth, that his rigid Toryism and High Church prejudices
rendered him an unsafe counsellor in a matter where the spirit of the
age must be consulted; but I pointed out to him what I am sure is true,
that Murray, apprehensive of his displeasure, had not ventured to write
to him out of mere timidity and not from any [intention to offend]. I
treated [lightly] his old woman's apprehensions and cautions, and all
that gossip about friends and enemies, to which a splendid number or two
will be a sufficient answer, and I accepted with due acknowledgment his
proposal of continued support. I cannot say I was afraid of his
withdrawing. Lockhart will have hard words with him, for, great as
Southey's powers are, he has not the art to make them work popularly; he
is often diffuse, and frequently sets much value on minute and
unimportant facts, and useless pieces of abstruse knowledge. Living too
exclusively in a circle where he is idolised both for his genius and the
excellence of his disposition, he has acquired strong prejudices,
though all of an upright and honourable cast. He rides his High Church
hobby too hard, and it will not do to run a tilt upon it against all the
world. Gifford used to crop his articles considerably, and they bear