revolt from the exposure on an anatomical table, when the case is
supposed to be that of one who is dear to them. I should, I am
conscious, be willing that I myself should be dissected in public, if
doing so could produce any advantage to society, but when I think on
relations and friends being rent from the grave the case is very
different, and I would fight knee-deep to prevent or punish such an
exposure. So inconsistent we are all upon matters of this nature.
I dined quietly at home with the girls, and wrote after dinner.
_January_ 17. - Nothing in the roll; corrected proofs, and went off at 12
o'clock in the Hamilton stage to William Lockhart's at Auchinrath. My
companions, Mr. Livingstone, the clergyman of Camnethan, a Bailie
Hamilton, the king of trumps, I am told, in the Burgh of Hamilton, and a
Mr. Davie Martin _qui gaudet equis et canibus_. Got to Auchinrath by
six, and met Lord Douglas,[237] his brother, Captain Douglas, E.N., John
G-. Lockhart also, who had a large communication from Duke of W. upon
the subject of the bullion. The Duke scouts the economist's ideas about
paper credit, after the proposition that all men shall be entitled to
require gold.
_January_ 18. - We went, the two Lockharts and I, to William's new
purchase of Milton. We found on his ground a cottage, where a man called
Greenshields,[238] a sensible, powerful-minded person, had at
twenty-eight (rather too late a week)[239] taken up the art of
sculpture. He had disposed of the person of the King most admirably,
according to my poor thoughts, and had attained a wonderful expression
of ease and majesty at the same time. He was desirous of engaging on
Burns' Jolly Beggars, which I dissuaded. Caricature is not the object of
sculpture.
We went to Milton on as fine a day as could consist with snow on the
ground. The situation is eminently beautiful; a fine promontory round
which the Clyde makes a magnificent bend. We fixed on a situation where
the sitting-room should command the upper view, and, with an ornamental
garden, I think it may be made the prettiest place in Scotland.
_January_ 19. - Posted to Edinburgh with John Lockhart. We stopped at
Allanton to see a tree transplanted, which was performed with great
ease. Sir Henry is a sad coxcomb, and lifted beyond the solid earth by
the effect of his book's success. But the book well deserves it.[240] He
is in practice particularly anxious to keep the roots of the tree near
the surface, and only covers them with about a foot of earth.
_Note_. - Lime rubbish dug in among the roots of ivy encourages it much.
The operation delayed us three hours, so it was seven o'clock before we
reached our dinner and a good fire in Shandwick Place, and we were
wellnigh frozen to death. During this excursion I walked very ill - with
more pain, in fact, than I ever remember to have felt - and, even leaning
on John Lockhart, could hardly get on. _Baad that, vara baad_ - it might
be the severe weather though, and the numbing effect of the sitting in
the carriage. Be it what it will, I can't help myself.
_January_ 20. - I had little to do at the Court, and returned home soon.
Honest old Mr. Ferrier is dead, at extreme old age. I confess I should
not wish to live so long. He was a man with strong passions and strong
prejudices, but with generous and manly sentiments at the same time. We
used to call him Uncle Adam, after that character in his gifted
daughter's novel of the _Heiress_ [Inheritance]. I wrote a long letter
after I came home to my Lord Elgin about Greenshields, the
sculptor.[241] I am afraid he is going into the burlesque line, to
which sculpture is peculiarly ill adapted. So I have expressed my veto
to his patron, _valeat quantum_. Also a letter to Mrs. Professor
Sandford at Glasgow about reprinting Macaulay's _History of St.
Kilda_,[242] advising them to insert the history of Lady Grange who was
kidnapped and banished thither.
I corrected my proofs, moreover, and prepared to dine. After dinner we
go to Euphemia Erskine's marriage. Mr. Dallas came in and presented me
with an old pedigree of the M'Intoshes. The wedding took place with the
usual April weather of smiles and tears. The bridegroom's name is
Dawson. As he, as well as the bride, is very tall, they have every
chance of bringing up a family of giants. The bridegroom has an
excellent character. He is only a captain, but economy does wonders in
the army, where there are many facilities for practising it. I sincerely
wish them happiness.
_January_ 21. - Went out to Dalkeith House to dine and stay all night.
Found Marquis of Lothian and a family party. I liked the sense and
spirit displayed by this young nobleman, who reminds me strongly of his
parents, whom I valued so highly.
_January_ 22. - Left Dalkeith after breakfast, and gained the Parliament
House, where there was almost nothing to do, at eleven o'clock.
Afterwards sat to Graham, who is making a good thing of it. Mr. Colvin
Smith has made a better in one sense, having sold ten or twelve copies
of the portrait to different friends.[243] The Solicitor came to dine
with me - we drank a bottle of champagne, and two bottles of claret,
which, in former days, I should have thought a very sober allowance,
since, Lockhart included, there were three persons to drink it. But I
felt I had drunk too much, and was uncomfortable. The young men stood it
like young men. Skene and his wife and daughter looked in in the
evening. I suppose I am turning to my second childhood, for not only am
I filled drunk, or made stupid at least, with one bottle of wine, but I
am disabled from writing by chilblains on my fingers - a most babyish
complaint. They say that the character is indicated by the handwriting;
if so, mine is crabbed enough.
_January_ 23. - Still severe frost, annoying to sore fingers. Nothing on
the roll. I sat at home and wrote letters to Wilkie, Landseer, Mrs.
Hughes, Charles, etc. Went out to old Mr. Ferrier's funeral, and saw the
last duty rendered to my old friend, whose age was
" - - Like a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly,"[244]
I mean in a moral as well as a physical sense. I then went to Cadell's
for some few minutes.
I carried out Lockhart to Dalkeith, where we dined, supped, and returned
through a clinking frost, with snow on the ground. Lord Ramsay and the
Miss Kerrs were at Dalkeith. The Duke shows, for so young a man, a great
deal of character, and seems to have a proper feeling of the part he has
to play. The evening was pleasant, but the thought that I was now the
visitor and friend of the family in the third generation lay somewhat
heavy on me. Every thing around me seemed to say that beauty, power,
wealth, honour were but things of a day.
_January_ 24. - Heavy fall of snow. Lockhart is off in the mail. I hope
he will not be blockaded. The day bitter cold. I went to the Court, and
with great difficulty returned along the slippery street. I ought to
have taken the carriage, but I have a superstitious dread of giving up
the habit of walking, and would willingly stick to the last by my old
hardy customs.
Little but trifles to do at the Court. My hands are so covered with
chilblains that I can hardly use a pen - my feet ditto.
We bowled away at six o'clock to Mr. Wardlaw Ramsay's. Found we were a
week too early, and went back as if our noses had been bleeding.
_January_ 25. - Worked seriously all morning, expecting the Fergusons to
dinner. Alas! instead of that, I learn that my poor innocent friend Mary
is no more. She was a person of some odd and peculiar habits, wore a
singular dress, and affected wild and solitary haunts, but she was, at
the same time, a woman of talent, and even genius. She used often to
take long walks with me up through the glens; and I believe her sincere
good wishes attended me, as I was always glad of an opportunity to show
her kindness. I shall long think of her when at Abbotsford. This sad
event breaks up our little party. Will Clerk came, however, and his
_tête-à -tête_ was, of course, interesting and amusing in the highest
degree. We drank some whisky and water, and smoked a cigar or two, till
nine at night.
"No after friendships ere can raise
The endearments of our early days."
_January_ 26. - I muzzed on - I can call it little better - with _Anne of
Geierstein_. The materials are excellent, but the power of using them is
failing. Yet I wrote out about three pages, sleeping at intervals.
_January_ 27. - A great and general thaw, the streets afloat, the snow
descending on one's head from the roofs. Went to the Court. There was
little to do. Left about twelve, and took a sitting with Graham, who
begs for another. Sir James Stuart stood bottle-holder on this occasion.
Had rather an unfavourable account of the pictures of James Stuart of
Dunearn, which are to be sold. I had promised to pick up one or two for
the Duke of Buccleuch. Came home and wrote a leaf or two. I shall be
soon done with the second volume of _Anne of Geierstein_. I cannot
persuade myself to the obvious risk of satisfying the public, although I
cannot so well satisfy myself. I am like Beaumont and Fletcher's old
Merrythought who could not be persuaded that there was a chance of his
wanting meat. I never came into my parlour, said he, but I found the
cloth laid and dinner ready; surely it will be always thus. Use makes
perfectness.[245]
My reflections are of the same kind; and if they are unlogical they are
perhaps not the less comfortable. Fretting and struggling does no good.
Wrote to Miss Margaret Ferguson a letter of condolence.
_January_ 28. - Breakfasted, for a wonder, abroad with Hay Drummond,
whose wife appears a pretty and agreeable little woman. We worshipped
his tutelar deity, the Hercules, and saw a good model of the Hercules
Bibax, or the drunken Hercules. Graham and Sir James Stuart were there.
Home-baked bread and soldier's coffee were the treat. I came home; and
Sir Robert Dundas having taken my duty at the Court, I wrote for some
time, but not much. Burke the murderer hanged this morning. The mob,
which was immense, demanded Knox and Hare, but though greedy for more
victims, received with shouts the solitary wretch who found his way to
the gallows out of five or six who seem not less guilty than he. But the
story begins to be stale, although I believe a doggerel ballad upon it
would be popular, how brutal soever the wit. This is the progress of
human passions. We ejaculate, exclaim, hold up to Heaven our hand, like
the rustic Phidyle[246] - next morning the mood changes, and we dance a
jig to the tune which moved us to tears. Mr. Bell sends me a specimen of
a historical novel, but he goes not the way to write it; he is too
general, and not sufficiently minute. It is not easy to convey this to
an author, with the necessary attention to his feelings; and yet, in
good faith and sincerity, it must be done.
_January_ 29. - I had a vacant day once more by the kindness of Sir
Robert, unasked, but most kindly afforded. I have not employed it to
much purpose. I wrote six pages to Croker,[247] who is busied with a new
edition of Boswell's _Life of Johnson_, to which most entertaining book
he hopes to make large additions from Mrs. Piozzi, Hawkins and other
sources. I am bound by many obligations to do as much for him as I can,
which can only respect the Scottish Tour. I wrote only two or three
pages of _Anne_. I am
" - - - as one who in a darksome way
Doth walk with fear and dread."
But walk I must, and walk forward too, or I shall be benighted with a
vengeance. After dinner, to compromise matters with my conscience, I
wrote letters to Mr. Bell, Mrs. Hughes, and so forth; thus I concluded
the day with a sort of busy idleness. This will not do. By cock and pye
it will not.
_January_ 30. - Mr. Stuart breakfasted with me, a grand-nephew of Lady
Louisa's, a very pleasing young gentleman. The coach surprised me by not
calling. _Will_ it be for the Martyrdom? I trow it will, yet, strange to
say, I cannot recollect if it is a regular holiday or not.
"Uprouse ye then, my merry, merry men,
And use it as ye may."
I wrote in the morning, and went at one o'clock to a meeting of country
gentlemen, about bringing the direct road from London down by Jedburgh,
said to be the nearest line by fifty miles. It is proposed the pleasant
men of Teviotdale should pay, not only their own share, - that is, the
expense of making the road through our own country, but also the expense
of making the road under the Ellsdon Trust in Northumberland, where the
English would positively do nothing. I stated this to the meeting as an
act of Quixotry. If it be an advantage, which, unless to individuals,
may be doubted, it is equally one to Northumberland as to Roxburgh,
therefore I am clear that we should go "acquals."
I think I have maybe put a spoke in the wheel. The raising the statute
labour of Roxburgh to an oppressive extent, to make roads in England,
is, I think, jimp legal, and will be much complained of by the poorer
heritors. Henry of Harden dines with me _tête-à -tête_, excepting the
girls.
_January_ 31. - I thought I had opened a vein this morning and that it
came freely, but the demands of art have been more than I can bear. I
corrected proofs before breakfast, went to Court after that meal; was
busy till near one o'clock. Then I went to Cadell's, where they are
preparing to circulate the prospectus of the magnum, which will have all
the effect of surprise on most people. I sat to Mr. Graham till I was
quite tired, then went to Lady Jane, who is getting better. Then here at
four, but fit for nothing but to bring up this silly Diary.
The corpse of the murderer Burke is now lying in state at the College,
in the anatomical class, and all the world flock to see him. Who is he
that says that we are not ill to please in our objects of curiosity? The
strange means by which the wretch made money are scarce more disgusting
than the eager curiosity with which the public have licked up all the
carrion details of this business.
I trifled with my work. I wonder how Johnson set himself doggedly to
it - to a work of imagination it seems quite impossible, and one's brain
is at times fairly addled. And yet I have felt times when sudden and
strong exertion would throw off all this mistiness of mind, as a north
wind would disperse it.
"Blow, blow, thou northern wind."[248]
Nothing more than about two or three pages. I went to the Parliament
House to-day, but had little to do. I sat to Mr. Graham the last time,
Heaven be praised! If I be not known in another age, it will not be for
want of pictures. We dined with Mr. Wardlaw Ramsay and Lady Anne - a fine
family. There was little done in the way of work except correcting
proofs. The bile affects me, and makes me vilely drowsy when I should be
most awake. Met at Mr. Wardlaw's several people I did not know. Looked
over Cumnor Hall by Mr. Usher Tighe of Oxford. I see from the
inscription on Tony Foster's tomb that he was a skilful planter, amongst
other fashionable accomplishments.
FOOTNOTES:
[232] Milton's _Paradise Lost_, Bk. i.
[233] See Cases in Court of Session, vol. vii. S. p. 527.
[234] John Graham, who afterwards assumed the name of Gilbert; born
1794, died 1866.
He was at this time painting Sir Walter for the Royal Society of
Edinburgh. When the portrait was finished it was placed in the rooms of
the Society, where it still hangs. The artist retained in his own
collection a duplicate, with some slight variations, which his widow
presented to the National Portrait Gallery, London, in 1867.
[235] Sir Walter, in common with the majority of his contemporaries,
evidently believed that Dr. Robert Knox was partly responsible for the
West Port atrocities, but it is only just to the memory of the talented
anatomist to say that an independent and influential committee, after a
careful examination, reported on March 13th, 1829, that there was no
evidence showing that he or his assistants knew that murder had been
committed, but the committee thought that more care should have been
exercised in the reception of the bodies at the Anatomical Class-room.
Lord Cockburn, who was one of the counsel at the trial of Burke, in
writing of these events, remarks: "All our anatomists incurred a most
unjust and very alarming, though not an unnatural, odium; Dr. Knox in
particular, against whom not only the anger of the populace, but the
condemnation of more intelligent persons, was specially directed. But,
tried in reference to the invariable and the necessary practice of the
profession, our anatomists were spotlessly correct, and Knox the most
correct of them all."
At this date Dr. Knox was the most popular teacher in the Medical School
at Edinburgh, and as his class-room could not contain more than a third
of his students, he had to deliver his lectures twice or thrice daily.
The odium attached to his name might have been removed in time had his
personal character stood as high as his professional ability, but though
he remained in Edinburgh until 1841 he never recovered his position
there, and for the last twenty years of his life this once brilliant
teacher subsisted as best he could in London by his pen, and as an
itinerant lecturer. He died in 1862.
[236] _King John_, Act iv. So. 2.
[237] Archibald, second Lord Douglas, who died in 1844.
[238] John Greenshields, self-taught sculptor. See _Life_, vol. ix. p.
281-288. He died at the age of forty in 1835.
[239] _As You Like It_, Act II. Sc. 3.
[240] Sir Henry Seton Steuart's work on _Planting_ was reviewed by Scott
in the _Quarterly_. - See _Misc. Prose Works,_ vol. xxi. Sir H. Steuart
died in March 1836.
[241] See letter in _Life_, vol. ix. pp. 281-287.
[242] Originally published in London in 8vo, 1764. This contemplated
edition does not appear to have been printed.
[243] _Ante_, p. 118 n.
[244] _As You Like It_, Act II. Sc. 3.
[245] See Beaumont and Fletcher, _Knight of the Burning Pestle_, Act I.
Sc. 3.
[246]
Coelo supinas si tuleris manus Nascente luna, rustica Phidyle, etc.
Hor. Lib. iii _Od_. 23. - J.G.L.
[247] This letter, brimful of anecdote, is printed in Croker's
_Correspondence_, vol. ii. pp. 28-34.
[248] _As You Like It_, Act II. Sc. 7.
FEBRUARY.
_February_ 1. - _Domum mansi, lanam feci_, - stayed at home _videlicet_,
and laboured without interruption except from intolerable drowsiness;
finished eight leaves, however, the best day's work I have made this
long time. No interruption, and I got pleased with my work, which ends
the second volume of _Anne of Geierstein_. After dinner had a letter
from Lockhart, with happy tidings about the probability of the
commission on the Stewart papers being dissolved. The Duke of W. says
commissions never either did or will do any good. John will in that case
be sole editor of these papers with an apartment at St. James's _cum
plurimis aliis_. It will be a grand coup if it takes place.
_February_ 2. - Sent off yesterday's work with proofs. Could I do as
toughly for a week - and many a day I have done more - I should be soon
out of the scrape. I wrote letters, and put over the day till one, when
I went down with Sir James Stuart to see Stuart of Dunearn's pictures
now on sale. I did not see much which my poor taste covets; a Hobbema
much admired is, I think, as tame a piece of work as I ever saw. I
promised to try to get a good picture or two for the young Duke.
Dined with the old Club, instituted forty years ago. There were present
Lord Justice-Clerk, Lord Advocate, Sir Peter Murray, John Irving,
William Clerk, and I. It was a party such as the meeting of fellow
scholars and fellow students alone could occasion. We told old stories;
laughed and quaffed, and resolved, rashly perhaps, that we would hold
the Club at least once a year, if possible twice. We will see how this
will fudge. Our mirth was more unexpected as Sir Adam, our first
fiddle, was wanting, owing to his family loss.
_February_ 3. - Rose at eight - felt my revel a little in my head. The
Court business light, returned by Cadell, and made one or two calls, at
Skene's especially. Dinner and evening at home; laboriously employed.
_February_ 4. - To-day I was free from duty, and made good use of my
leisure at home, finishing the second volume of _Anne_, and writing
several letters, one to recommend Captain Pringle to Lord Beresford,
which I send to-morrow through Morritt. "My mother whips me and I whip
the top." The girls went to the play.
_February_ 5. - Attended the Court as usual, got dismissed about one.
Finished and sent off volume ii. of _Anne_. Dined with Robert
Rutherford, my cousin, and the whole clan of Swinton.
_February_ 6. - Corrected proofs in the morning, then to the Court;
thence to Cadell's, where I found some business cut out for me, in the
way of notes, which delayed me. Walked home, the weary way giving my
feet the ancient twinges of agony: such a journey is as severe a penance
as if I had walked the same length with peas in my shoes to atone for
some horrible crime by beating my toes into a jelly. I wrote some and
corrected a good deal. We dined alone, and I partly wrought partly slept
in the evening. It's now pretty clear that the Duke of W. intends to
have a Catholic Bill.[249] He probably expects to neutralise and divide
the Catholic body by bringing a few into Parliament, where they will
probably be tractable enough, rather than a large proportion of them
rioting in Ireland, where they will be to a certain degree unanimous.
_February_ 7. - Up and wrought a little. I had at breakfast a son of Sir
Thomas Dick Lauder, a very quick, smart-looking young fellow, who is on
his way to the Continent with a tutor. Dined at Mrs. George Swinton's
with the whole clan.
_February_ 8. - I wrought the whole day and finished about six pages of
manuscript of vol. iii. [_Anne of Geierstein_]. _Sat cito si sat bene_.
The Skenes came in to supper like the olden world.
_February_ 9. - Was up in good time (say half-past seven), and employed
the morning in correcting proofs. At twelve I went to Stuart of
Dunearn's sale of pictures. This poor man fell, like myself, a victim to
speculation. And though I had no knowledge of him personally, and
disliked him as the cause of poor Sir Alexander Boswell's death, yet
"had he been slaughterman to all my kin,"[250] I could but pity the
miserable sight of his splendid establishment broken up, and his
treasures of art exposed to public and unsparing sale. I wanted a
picture of the Earl of Rothes for the Duke of Buccleuch, a fine Sir
Joshua, but Balfour of Balbirnie fancied it also, and followed it to 160
guineas. Charles Sharpe's account is, that I may think myself in luck,
for the face has been repainted. There is, he says, a print taken from
the picture at Leslie House which has quite a different countenance from
the present.
This job, however, took me up the whole morning to little purpose.
Captain and Mrs. Hall dined with us, also Sir James Stuart, Charles
Sharpe, John Scott of Gala, etc.
_February_ 10. - I was up at seven this morning, and will continue the
practice, but the shoal of proofs took up all my leisure. I will not, I
think, go after these second-rate pictures again to-day. If I could get
a quiet day or two I would make a deep dint in the third volume; but
hashed and smashed as my time is, who can make anything of it? I read
over Henry's History of Henry VI. and Edward IV.; he is but a stupid
historian after all. This took me up the whole day.
_February_ 11. - Up as usual and wrought at proofs. Mr. Hay Drummond and
Macintosh Mackay dined. The last brought me his history of the _Blara
Leine_ or White Battle (battle of the shirts). To the Court, and
remained there till two, when we had some awkward business in the
Council of the Royal Society.
_February_ 12. - W. Lockhart came to breakfast, full of plans for his
house, which will make a pretty and romantic habitation. After breakfast
the Court claimed its vassal.
As I came out Mr. Chambers introduced a pretty little romantic girl to
me who possessed a laudable zeal to know a live poet. I went with my
fair admirer as far as the new rooms on the Mound, where I looked into
the Royal Society's Rooms, then into the Exhibition, in mere
unwillingness to work and desire to dawdle away time. Learned that Lord
Haddington had bought the Sir Joshua. I wrought hard to-day and made out
five pages.
_February_ 13. - This morning Col. Hunter Blair breakfasted here with his
wife, a very pretty woman, with a good deal of pleasant conversation.
She had been in India, and had looked about her to purpose. I wrote for
several hours in the forenoon, but was nervous and drumlie; also I
bothered myself about geography; in short, there was trouble, as miners
say when the vein of metal is interrupted. Went out at two, and walked,
thank God, better than in the winter, which gives me hopes that the
failure of the unfortunate limb is only temporary, owing to severe
weather. We dined at John Murray's with the Mansfield family. Lady
Caroline Murray possesses, I think, the most pleasing taste for music,
and is the best singer I ever heard. No temptation to display a very
brilliant voice ever leads her aside from truth and simplicity, and
besides, she looks beautiful when she sings.
_February_ 14. - Wrote in the morning, which begins to be a regular act
of duty. It was late ere I got home, and I did not do much. The letters
I received were numerous and craved answers, yet the third volume is
getting on hooly and fairly. I am twenty leaves before the printers;
but Ballantyne's wife is ill, and it is his nature to indulge
apprehensions of the worst, which incapacitates him for labour. I cannot
help regarding this amiable weakness of the mind with something too
nearly allied to contempt. I keep the press behind me at a good
distance, and I, like the
"Postboy's horse, am glad to miss
The lumber of the wheels."[251]
_February_ 15. - I wrought to-day, but not much - rather dawdled, and took
to reading Chambers's Beauties of Scotland,[252] which would be
admirable if they were more accurate. He is a clever young fellow, but
hurts himself by too much haste. I am not making too much myself I know,
and I know, too, it is time I were making it. Unhappily there is such a
thing as more haste and less speed. I can very seldom think to purpose
by lying perfectly idle, but when I take an idle book, or a walk, my
mind strays back to its task out of contradiction as it were; the things
I read become mingled with those I have been writing, and something is
concocted. I cannot compare this process of the mind to anything save
that of a woman to whom the mechanical operation of spinning serves as a
running bass to the songs she sings, or the course of ideas she pursues.
The phrase _Hoc age_, often quoted by my father, does not jump with my
humour. I cannot nail my mind to one subject of contemplation, and it is
by nourishing two trains of ideas that I can bring one into order.
Colin Mackenzie came in to see me, poor fellow. He looks well in his
retirement. Partly I envy him - partly I am better pleased as it is.
_February_ 16. - Stayed at home and laboured all the forenoon. Young
Invernahyle called to bid me interest myself about getting a lad of the
house of Scott a commission - how is this possible? The last I tried
for, there was about 3000 on the list - and they say the boy is too old,
being twenty-four. I scribbled three or four pages, forbore smoking and
whisky and water, and went to the Royal Society. There Sir William
Hamilton read an essay, the result of some anatomical investigations,
which contained a masked battery against the phrenologists.
_February_ 17. - In the morning I sent off copy and proof. I received the
melancholy news that James Ballantyne has lost his wife. With his
domestic habits the blow is irretrievable. What can he do, poor fellow,
at the head of such a family of children! I should not be surprised if
he were to give way to despair.
I was at the Court, where there was little to do, but it diddled away my
time till two. I went to the library, but not a book could I get to look
at. It is, I think, a wrong system the lending books to private houses
at all, and leads to immense annual losses. I called on Skene, and
borrowed a volume of his Journal, to get some information about Burgundy
and Provence. Something may be made out of King René, but I wish I had
thought of him sooner.[253] Dined alone with the girls.
_February_ 18. - This being Teind Wednesday I had a holiday. Worked the
whole day, interrupted by calls from Dr. Ross, Sir Hugh Palliser, Sir
David Hunter Blair, and Colonel Blair. I made out about six pages before
dinner, and go to Lord Gillies's to dine with a good conscience. Hay
Drummond came in, and discharged a volley at me which Mons Meg could
hardly have equalled. I will go to work with Skene's Journal. My head
aches violently, and has done so several days. It is cold, I think.
At Lord Gillies's we found Sir John Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple, and Miss
Ferguson, Mr. Hope Vere of Craigiehall, and Lady Elizabeth, a sister of
Lord Tweeddale, Sir Robert O'Callaghan, Captain Cathcart, and others - a
gay party.
_February_ 19. - An execrable day - half frost, half fresh, half sleet,
half rain, and wholly abominable. Having made up my packet for the
printing-house, and performed my duty at the Court, I had the firmness
to walk round by the North Bridge, and face the weather for two miles,
by way of exercise. Called on Skene, and saw some of his drawings of
Aix. It was near two before I got home, and now I hear three strike;
part of this hour has been consumed in a sound sleep by the fireside
after putting on dry things. I met Baron Hume,[254] and we praised each
other's hardihood for daring to take exercise in such weather, agreeing
that if a man relax the custom of his exercise in Scotland for a bad
day he is not likely to resume it in a hurry. The other moiety of the
time was employed in looking over the _Mémoires de Fauche-Borel._[255]
_February_ 20. - The Court duly took me up from eleven till about three,
but left some time for labour, which I employed to purpose, at least I
hope so. I declined going to the exhibition of paintings to-night;
neither the beauties of art nor of nature have their former charms for
me. I finished, however, about seven pages of manuscript, which is a
fair half of volume III. I wish I could command a little more time and I
would soon find you something or other, but the plague is that time is
wanting when I feel an aptitude to work, and when time abounds, the
will, at least the real efficient power of the faculties, is awanting.
Still, however, we make way by degrees. I glanced over some metrical
romances published by Hartshorne, several of which have not seen the
light. They are considerably curious, but I was surprised to see them
mingled with _Blanchefleur_ and _Florês_ and one or two others which
might have been spared. There is no great display of notes or
prolegomena, and there is, moreover, no glossary. But the work is well
edited.[256]
_February_ 21. - Colonel Ferguson breakfasted with us. I was detained at
the Parliament House till the hour of poor Mrs. Ballantyne's funeral,
then attended that melancholy ceremony. The husband was unable to
appear; the sight of the poor children was piteous enough. James
Ballantyne has taken his brother Sandy into the house, I mean the firm,
about which there had formerly been some misunderstanding.
I attended the Bannatyne Club. We made a very good election, bringing in
Lord Dalhousie and the Lord Clerk Register.[257] Our dinner went pretty
well off, but I have seen it merrier. To be sure old Dr. J., like an
immense featherbed, was _burking_ me, as the phrase now goes, during the
whole time. I am sure that word will stick in the language for one
while.
_February_ 22. - Very rheumatic. I e'en turned my table to the fire and
feagued it away, as Bayes says. Neither did I so much as cast my eyes
round to see what sort of a day it was - the splashing on the windows
gave all information that was necessary. Yet, with all my leisure,
during the whole day I finished only four leaves of copy - somewhat of
the least, master Matthew.[258]
There was no interruption during the whole day, though the above is a
poor account of it.
_February_ 23. - Up and at it. After breakfast Mr. Hay Drummond came in
enchanted about Mons Meg,[259] and roaring as loud as she could have
done for her life when she was in perfect voice.
James Ballantyne came in, to my surprise, about twelve o'clock. He was
very serious, and spoke as if he had some idea of sudden and speedy
death. He mentioned that he had named Cadell, Cowan, young Hughes, and
his brother to be his trustees with myself. He has settled to go to the
country, poor fellow, to Timpendean, as I think.
We dined at Skene's, where we met Mr. and Mrs. George Forbes, Colonel
and Mrs. Blair, George Bell, etc. The party was a pleasant one. Colonel
Blair said, that during the Battle of Waterloo there was at the
commencement some trouble necessary to prevent the men from breaking
their ranks. He expostulated with one man: "Why, my good fellow, you
cannot propose to beat the French alone? - better keep your ranks." The
man, who was one of the 71st, returned to his ranks, saying, "I believe
you are very right, sir, but I am a man of very _hot temper_." There
was much _bonhomie_ in the reply.
_February_ 24. - Snowy miserable morning. I corrected my proofs, but had
no time to write anything. We, _i.e._ myself and the two Annes, went to
breakfast with Mr. Drummond Hay, where we again met Colonel and Mrs.
Blair, with Thomas Thomson. We looked over some most beautiful
drawings[260] which Mrs. Blair had made in different parts of India,
exhibiting a species of architecture so gorgeous, and on a scale so
extensive, as to put to shame the magnificence of Europe. And yet, in
most cases, as little is known of the people who wrought these wonders
as of the kings who built the Pyramids. Fame depends on literature, not
on architecture. We are more eager to see a broken column of Cicero's
villa, than all those mighty labours of barbaric power. Mrs. Blair is
full of enthusiasm. She told me that when she worked with her pencil she
was glad to have some one to read to her as a sort of sedative,
otherwise her excitement made her tremble, and burst out a-crying. I can
understand this very well, having often found the necessity of doing two
things at once. She is a very pretty, dark woman too, and has been
compared to Rebecca, daughter of the Jew, Isaac of York.
Detained in the Court till half-past two bothering about Lady Essex
Kerr's will without coming to a conclusion. I then got home too late to
do anything, as I must prepare to go to Dalmahoy. Mr. Gibson came in for
a little while; no news.
I went to Dalmahoy, where we were most kindly received. It is a point of
friendship, however, to go eight miles to dinner and return in the
evening; and my day has been cut up without a brush of work. Smoked a
cigar on my return, being very cold.
_February_ 25. - This morning I corrected my proofs. We get on, as John
Ferguson said when they put him on a hunter. I fear there is too much
historical detail, and the catastrophe will be vilely huddled up. "And
who can help it, Dick?" Visited James Ballantyne, and found him bearing
his distress sensibly and like a man. I called in at Cadell's, and also
inquired after Lady Jane Stuart, who is complaining. Three o'clock
placed me at home, and from that hour till ten, deduct two hours for
dinner, I was feaguing it away.
_February_ 26. - Sent off ten pages this morning, with a revise; we spy
land, but how to get my catastrophe packed into the compass allotted for
it -
"It sticks like a pistol half out of its holster,
Or rather indeed like an obstinate bolster,
Which I think I have seen you attempting, my dear,
In vain to cram into a small pillowbeer."
There is no help for it - I must make a _tour de force_, and annihilate
both time and space. Dined at home; nevertheless made small progress.
But I must prepare my dough before I can light my oven. I would fain
think I am in the right road.
_February_ 27. - The last post brought a letter from Mr. Heath, proposing
to set off his engravings for the _Magnum Opus_ against my contributions
for the _Keepsake_. A pretty mode of accounting that would be; he
be - - . I wrote him declining his proposal; and, as he says I am still
in his debt, I will send him the old drama of the _House of Aspen_,
which I wrote some thirty years ago, and offered to the stage. This will
make up my contribution, and a good deal more, if, as I recollect, there
are five acts. Besides, it will save me further trouble about Heath and
his Annual. Secondly, There are several manuscript copies of the play
abroad, and some of them will be popping out one of these days in a
contraband manner. Thirdly, If I am right as to the length of the
piece, there is £100 extra work at least which will not be inconvenient
at all.
Dined at Sir John Hay's with Ramsay of Barnton and his young bride, Sir
David and Lady Hunter Blair, etc.
I should mention that Cadell breakfasted with me, and entirely approved
of my rejecting Heath's letter. There was one funny part of it, in which
he assured me that the success of the new edition of the _Waverley
Novels_ depended entirely on the excellence of the illustrations - _vous
êtes joaillier, Mons. Josse.[261]_ He touches a point which alarms me;
he greatly undervalues the portrait which Wilkie has prepared to give me
for this edition. If it is as little of a likeness as he says, it is a
scrape. But a scrape be it. Wilkie behaved in the kindest way,
considering his very bad health, in agreeing to work for me at all, and
I will treat him with due delicacy, and not wound his feelings by
rejecting what he has given in such kindness.[262] And so farewell to
Mr. Heath, and the conceited vulgar Cockney his Editor.
_February_ 28. - Finished my proofs this morning, and read part of a
curious work, called _Memoirs of Vidocq_; a fellow who was at the head
of Bonaparte's police. It is a pickaresque tale; in other words, a
romance of roguery. The whole seems much exaggerated, and got up; but I
suppose there is truth _au fond._ I came home about two o'clock, and
wrought hard and fast till night.
FOOTNOTES:
[249] Sir Walter had written to Mr. Lockhart on October 26th, 1828, on
hearing of an impending article in the _Quarterly_, the following
letter: -
"I cannot repress the strong desire I have to express my regret at some
parts of your kind letter just received. I shall lament most truly a
_purple_ article at this moment, when a strong, plain, moderate
statement, not railing at Catholics and their religion, but reprobating
the conduct of the Irish Catholics, and pointing out the necessary
effects which that conduct must have on the Catholic Question, would
have a powerful effect, and might really serve king and country. Nothing
the agitators desire so much as to render the broil general, as a
quarrel between Catholic and Protestant; nothing so essential to the
Protestant cause as to confine it to its real causes. Southey, as much a