_June_ 7.--I rose at seven, and wrote to Sir Thomas Lauder a long
warning on the subject of these Allans and their manuscript.[333]
Proceeded to write, but found myself pulled up by the necessity of
reading a little. This occupied my whole morning. The Lord President
called very kindly to desire me to keep at home to-morrow. I thought of
being out, but it may be as well not. I am somehow or other either
listless or lazy. My head aches cruelly. I made a fight at reading and
working till eleven, and then came sleep with a party-coloured [mantle]
of fantastic hues, and wrapt me into an imaginary world.

_June_, 8.--I wrote the whole morning till two o'clock. Then I went into
the gardens of Princes Street, to my great exhilaration. I never felt
better for a walk; also it is the first I have taken this whole week and
more. I visited some remote garden grounds, where I had not been since I
walked there with the good Samaritan Skene, sadly enough, at the time
of my misfortunes.[334] The shrubs and young trees, which were then
invisible, are now of good size, and gay with leaf and blossom. I, too,
old trunk as I am, have put out tender buds of hope, which seemed
checked for ever.

I may now look with fair hope to freeing myself of obligation from all
men, and spending the rest of my life in ease and quiet. God make me
thankful for so cheering a prospect!

_June_ 9.--I wrote in the morning, set out for a walk at twelve o'clock
as far as Mr. Cadell's. I found him hesitating about his views, and
undecided about the Number plan. He thinks the first plan answers so
much beyond expectation it is a pity to interfere with it, and talks of
re-engraving the plates. This would be touchy, but nothing is resolved
on.

Anne had a little party, where Lady Charlotte Bury, Lady Hopetoun, and
others met the Caradori, who sung to us very kindly. She sung Jock of
Hazeldean very well, and with a peculiar expression of humour. Sandie
Ballantyne kindly came and helped us with fiddle and flageolet. Willie
Clerk was also here. We had a lunch, and were very gay, not the less so
for the want of Mr. Bury, who is a thorough-paced coxcomb, with some
accomplishments, however. I drank two glasses of champagne, which have
muddled my brains for the day. Will Clerk promised to come back and dine
on the wreck of the turkey and tongue, pigeon-pie, etc. He came,
accordingly, and stayed till nine; so no time for work. It was not a
lost day, however.[335]

_June_ 10.--_Nota bene_, my complaint quite gone. I attended the Court,
and sat there till late. Evening had its lot of labour, which is, I
think, a second nature to me. It is astonishing how little I look into a
book of entertainment. I have been reading over the _Five Nights of St.
Albans_,--very much _extra mœnia nostri mundi_, and possessed of
considerable merit, though the author[336] loves to play at cherry-pit
with Satan.[337]

_June_ 11.--I was kept at Court by a hearing till near three. Then sat
to Mr. Graham for an hour and a half. When I came home, behold a letter
from Mr. Murray, very handsomely yielding up the fourth share of
_Marmion_, which he possessed.[338] Afterwards we went to the theatre,
where St. Ronan's Well was capitally acted by Murray and the
Bailie,--the part of Clara Mowbray being heavy for want of Mrs. Siddons.
Poor old Mrs. Renaud, once the celebrated Mrs. Powell, took leave of the
stage. As I was going to bed at twelve at night, in came R.P.Gillies
like a tobacco cask. I shook him off with some difficulty, pleading my
having been lately ill, but he is to call to-morrow morning.


_June_ 12.--Gillies made his appearance. I told him frankly I thought he
conducted his affairs too irregularly for any one to assist him, and I
could not in charity advise any one to encourage subscriptions, but that
I should subscribe myself, so I made over to him about £50, which the
_Foreign Review_ owes me, and I will grow hard-hearted and do no more. I
was not long in the Court, but I had to look at the controversy about
the descent of the Douglas family, then I went to Cadell and found him
still cock-a-hoop. He has raised the edition to 17,000, a monstrous
number, yet he thinks it will clear the 20,000, but we must be quiet in
case people jalouse the failure of the plates. I called on Lady
J.S.[339] When I came home I was sleepy and over-walked. By the way, I
sat till Graham finished my picture.[340] I fell fast asleep before
dinner, and slept for an hour. After dinner I wrote to Walter, Charles,
Lockhart, and John Murray, and took a screed of my novel; so concluded
the evening idly enough.

_June_ 13.--We hear of Sophia's motions. She is to set sail by
steam-boat on the 16th, Tuesday, and Charles is to make a run down with
her. But, alas! my poor Johnnie is, I fear, come to lay his bones in his
native land. Sophia can no longer disguise it from herself, that as his
strength weakens the disease increases. The poor child is so much bent
on coming to see Abbotsford and grandpapa, that it would be cruel not to
comply with his wish--and if affliction comes, we will bear it best
together.

    "Not more the schoolboy who expires
    Far from his native home desires
    To see some friend's familiar face,
    Or meet a parent's last embrace."

It must be all as God wills it. Perhaps his native air may be of
service.

More news from Cadell. He deems it necessary to carry up the edition to
20,000.

[_Abbotsford._]--This day was fixed for a start to Abbotsford, where we
arrived about six o'clock, evening. To my thinking, I never saw a
prettier place; and even the trees and flowers seemed to say to me, We
are your own again. But I must not let imagination jade me thus. It
would be to make disappointment doubly bitter: and, God knows, I have in
my child's family matter enough to check any exuberant joy.

_June 14_.--A delicious day--threatening rain; but with the languid and
affecting manner in which beauty demands sympathy when about to weep. I
wandered about the banks and braes all morning, and got home about
three, and saw everything in tolerable order, excepting that there was
a good number of branches left in the walks. There is a great number of
trees cut, and bark collected. Colonel Ferguson dined with us, and spent
the afternoon.

_June_ 15.--Another charming day. Up and despatched packets for
Ballantyne and Cadell; neither of them was furiously to the purpose, but
I had a humour to be alert. I walked over to Huntly Burn, and round by
Chiefswood and Janeswood, where I saw Captain Hamilton. He is busy
finishing his Peninsular campaigns.[341] He will not be cut out by
Napier, whose work has a strong party cast; and being, besides, purely
abstract and professional, to the public seems very dull. I read General
Miller's account of the South American War.[342] I liked it the better
that Basil Hall brought the author to breakfast with me in Edinburgh. A
fine, tall, military figure, his left hand withered like the prophet's
gourd, and plenty of scars on him. There have been rare doings in that
vast continent; but the strife is too distant, the country too unknown,
to have the effect upon the imagination which European wars produce.

This evening I indulged in the _far niente_--a rare event with me, but
which I enjoy proportionally.

_June_ 16.--Made up parcel for Dr. Lardner; and now I propose to set
forth my memoranda of Byron for Moore's acceptance, which ought in
civility to have been done long since.[343] I will have a walk, however,
in the first place.

I did not get on with Byron so far as I expected--began it though, and
that is always something. I went to see the woods at Huntly Burn, and
Mars Lea, etc. Met Captain Hamilton, who tells me a shocking thing. Two
Messrs. Stirling of Drumpellier came here and dined one day, and seemed
spirited young men. The younger is murdered by pirates. An Indian vessel
in which he sailed was boarded by these miscreants, who behaved most
brutally; and he, offering resistance I suppose, was shockingly mangled
and flung into the sea. He was afterwards taken up alive, but died soon
after. Such horrid accidents lie in wait for those whom we see "all
joyous and unthinking,"[344] sweeping along the course of life; and what
end may be waiting ourselves? Who can tell?

_June_ 17.--Must take my leave of sweet Abbotsford, and my leisure hour,
my eve of repose. To go to town will take up the morning.

_[Edinburgh.]_--We set out about eleven o'clock, got to Edinburgh about
four, where I dined with Baron Clerk and a few Exchequer friends--Lord
Chief Baron, Sir Patrick Murray, Sir Henry Jardine, etc. etc.

_June_ 18.--Corrected proofs for Dr. Dionysius Lardner. Cadell came to
breakfast. Poor fellow, he looks like one who had been overworked; and
the difficulty of keeping paper-makers up to printers, printers up to
draughtsmen, artists to engravers, and the whole party to time, requires
the utmost exertion. He has actually ordered new plates, although the
steel ones which we employ are supposed to throw off 30,000 without
injury. But I doubt something of this. Well, since they will buckle
fortune on our back we must bear it scholarly and wisely.[345] I went to
Court. Called on my return on J.B. and Cadell. At home I set to correct
_Ivanhoe_. I had twenty other things more pressing; but, after all,
these novels deserve a preference. Poor Terry is totally prostrated by a
paralytic affection. Continuance of existence not to be wished for.

To-morrow I expect Sophia and her family by steam.

_June_ 19.--Sophia, and Charles who acted as her escort, arrived at nine
o'clock morning, fresh from the steamboat. They were in excellent
health--also the little boy and girl; but poor Johnnie seems very much
changed indeed, and I should not be surprised if the scene shortly
closes. There is obviously a great alteration in strength and features.
At dinner we had our family chat on a scale that I had not enjoyed for
many years. The Skenes supped with us.

_June_ 20.--Corrected proof-sheets in the morning for Dr. Lardner. Then
I had the duty of the Court to perform.

As I came home I recommended young Shortreed to Mr. Cadell for a
printing job now and then when Ballantyne is over-loaded, which Mr.
Cadell promised accordingly.

Lady Anna Maria Elliot's company at dinner. Helped on our family party,
and passed the evening pleasantly enough, my anxiety considering.

_June_ 21.--A very wet Sunday. I employed it to good purpose, bestowing
much labour on the History, ten pages of which are now finished. Were it
not for the precarious health of poor Johnnie I would be most happy in
this reunion with my family, but, poor child, this is a terrible
drawback.

_June_ 22.--I keep working, though interruptedly. But the heat in the
midst of the day makes me flag and grow irresistibly drowsy. Mr. and
Mrs. Skene came to supper this evening. Skene has engaged himself in
drawing illustrations to be etched by himself for _Waverley_. I wish it
may do.[346]

_June_ 23.--I was detained in the Court till half-past [three]. Captain
William Lockhart dined with Skene. The Captain's kind nature had brought
him to Edinburgh to meet his sister-in-law.

_June_ 24.--I was detained late in the Court, but still had time to go
with Adam Wilson and call upon a gentlemanlike East Indian officer,
called Colonel Francklin, who appears an intelligent and respectable
man. He writes the History of Captain Thomas,[347] a person of the
condition of a common seaman, who raised himself to the rank of a native
prince, and for some time waged a successful war with the powers around
him. The work must be entertaining.

_June_ 25.--Finished correcting proofs for Tales, 3d Series. The Court
was over soon, but I was much exhausted. On the return home quite sleepy
and past work. I looked in on Cadell, whose hand is in his housewife's
cap, driving and pushing to get all the works forward in due order, and
cursing the delays of artists and engravers. I own I wish we had not
hampered ourselves with such causes of delay.

_June_ 26.--Mr. Ellis, missionary from the South Sea Islands,
breakfasted, introduced by Mr. Fletcher, minister of the parish of
Stepney.

Mr. Ellis's account of the progress of civilisation, as connected with
religion, is very interesting. Knowledge of every kind is
diffused--reading, writing, printing, abundantly common. Polygamy
abolished. Idolatry is put down; the priests, won over by the chiefs,
dividing among them the consecrated lands which belonged to their
temples. Great part of the population are still without religion, but
willing to be instructed. Wars are become infrequent; and there is in
each state a sort of representative body, or senate, who are a check on
the despotism of the chief. All this has come hand in hand with
religion. Mr. Ellis tells me that the missionaries of different sects
avoided carefully letting the natives know that there were points of
disunion between them. Not so some Jesuits who had lately arrived, and
who taught their own ritual as the only true one. Mr. Ellis described
their poetry to me, and gave some examples; it had an Ossianic
character, and was composed of metaphor. He gave me a small collection
of hymns printed in the islands. If this gentleman is sincere, which I
have no doubt of, he is an illustrious character. He was just about to
return to the Friendly Islands, having come here for his wife's health.

[_Blairadam._]--After the Court we set off (the two Thomsons and I) for
Blair-Adam, where we held our Macduff Club for the twelfth anniversary.
We met the Chief Baron, Lord Sydney Osborne, Will Clerk, the merry
knight Sir Adam Ferguson, with our venerable host the Lord Chief
Commissioner, and merry men were we.

_June_ 27.--I ought not, where merry men convene, to omit our jovial son
of Neptune, Admiral Adam. The morning proving delightful, we set out for
the object of the day, which was Falkland. We passed through Lochore,
but without stopping, and saw on the road eastward, two or three places,
as Balbedie, Strathendry, and some others known to me by name. Also we
went through the town of Leslie, and saw what remains of the celebrated
rendezvous of rustic gallantry called Christ's Kirk on the Green.[348]
It is now cut up with houses, one of the most hideous of which is a new
church, having the very worst and most offensive kind of Venetian
windows. This, I am told, has replaced a quiet lowly little Gothic
building, coeval, perhaps, with the royal poet who celebrated the spot.
Next we went to Falkland, where we found Mr. Howden, factor of Mr.
Tyndall Bruce, waiting to show us the palace.

Falkland has most interesting remains. A double entrance-tower, and a
side building running east from it, is roofed, and in some degree
habitable; a corresponding building running northward from the eastern
corner is totally ruinous, having been destroyed by fire. The
architecture is highly ornamented, in the style of the Palace at
Stirling. Niches with statues, with projections, cornices, etc, are
lavished throughout. Many cornice medallions exhibited such heads as
those procured from the King's room at Stirling, the originals, perhaps,
being the same. The repeated cypher of James V. and Mary of Guise attest
the builder of this part of the palace. When complete it had been a
quadrangle. There is as much of it as remained when Slezer published his
drawings. Some part of the interior has been made what is called
habitable, that is, a half-dozen of bad rooms have been gotten out of
it. Am clear in my own mind a ruin should be protected, but never
repaired. The proprietor has a beautiful place called Nut-hill, within
ten minutes' walk of Falkland, and commanding some fine views of it and
of the Lomond Hill. This should be the residence. But Mr. Bruce and his
predecessor, my old professor, John Bruce,[349] deserve great credit for
their attention to prevent dilapidation, which was doing its work fast
upon the ancient palace. The only remarkable apartment was a large and
well-proportioned gallery with a painted roof--_tempore Jacobi
Sexti_--and built after his succession to the throne of England. I
noticed a curious thing,--a hollow column concealed the rope which rung
the Castle bell, keeping it safe from injury and interruption.

The town of Falkland is old, with very narrow streets. The arrival of
two carriages and a gig was an event important enough to turn out the
whole population. They are said to be less industrious, more dissipated,
and readier to become soldiers than their neighbours. So long a court
retains its influence!

We dined at Wellfield with my Mend George Cheape, with whom I rode in
the cavalry some thirty years ago. Much mirth and good wine made us
return in capital tune. The Chief Baron and Admiral Adam did not go on
this trip. When we returned it was time to go to bed by a candle.

_June_ 28.--Being Sunday, we lounged about in the neighbourhood of the
crags called Kiery Craigs, etc. The Sheriff-substitute of Kinross came
to dinner, and brought a gold signet[350] which had been found in that
town. It was very neat work, about the size of a shilling. It bore in a
shield the arms of Scotland and England, _parti per pale_, those of
Scotland occupying the dexter side. The shield is of the heater or
triangular shape. There is no crown nor legend of any kind; a slip of
gold folds upwards on the back of the hinge, and makes the handle neatly
enough. It is too well wrought for David II.'s time, and James IV. is
the only monarch of the Scottish line who, marrying a daughter of
England, may carry the arms of both countries _parti per pale._ Mr.
Skelton is the name of the present possessor.

Two reported discoveries. One, that the blaeberry shrub contains the
tanning quality as four to one compared to the oak--which may be of
great importance, as it grows so commonly on our moors.

The other, that the cutting of an apple-tree, or other fruit-tree, may
be preserved by sticking it into a potato and planting both together.
Curious, if true.

_June_ 29 _[Edinburgh]._--We dined together at Blair-Adam, having walked
in the woods in the morning, and seen a beautiful new walk made through
the woody hill behind the house. In a fine evening, after an early
dinner, our party returned to Edinburgh, and there each dispersed to his
several home and resting-place. I had the pleasure of finding my family
all well, except Johnnie.

_June_ 30.--After my short sniff of country air, here am I again at the
receipt of custom. The sale with Longman & Co., for stock and copyrights
of my [Poetical] Works, is completed, for £7000, at dates from twelve to
thirty-six months. There are many sets out of which we may be able to
clear the money, and then we shall make something to clear the
copyright. I am sure this may be done, and that the bargain will prove a
good one in the long run.

Dined at home with my family, whom, as they disperse to-morrow, I have
dedicated the evening to.

FOOTNOTES:

[328] The first volume had just been issued with a dedication to the
King. The series was completed in 48 vols., published at the beginning
of each month, between 1829-33, and the circulation went on increasing
until it reached 35,000 monthly.

[329] Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, which stood at that time in Shakespeare
Square, the site of the present General Post-Office.

[330] Mr. Lockhart remarks that, besides the usual allowance of
rheumatism, and other lesser ailments, Sir Walter had an attack that
season of a nature which gave his family great alarm, and which for some
days he himself regarded with the darkest prognostications. After some
weeks, during which he complained of headache and nervous irritation,
certain hæmorrhages indicated the sort of relief required, and he
obtained it from copious cupping.--_Life_, vol. ix. p. 327-8.

[331] See _infra_, p. 299.

[332] _The Beaux's Stratagem_, Farquhar.

[333] Through the courtesy of Miss Dick Lauder I am enabled to give the
letter referred to:--

"My DEAR SIR THOMAS,--I received your kind letter and interesting
communication yesterday, and hasten to reply. I am ashamed of the
limited hospitality I was able to offer Mr. Lauder, but circumstances
permitted me no more. I was much pleased with his lively and intelligent
manners, and hope he will live to be a comfort and a credit to Lady
Lauder and you.

"I need not say I have the greatest interest in the MS. which you
mention. In case it shall really prove an authentic document, there
would not be the least difficulty in getting the Bannatyne Club to take,
perhaps, 100 copies, or obtaining support enough so as, at the least, to
preclude the possibility of loss to the ingenious Messrs. Hay Allan. But
I think it indispensable that the original MS. should be sent for a
month or so to the Register House under the charge of the Deputy
Register, Mr. Thomson, that its antiquity be closely scrutinised by
competent persons. The art of imitating ancient writing has got to a
considerable perfection, and it has been the bane of Scottish
literature, and disgrace of her antiquities, that we have manifested an
eager propensity to believe without inquiry and propagate the errors
which we adopt too hastily ourselves. The general proposition that the
Lowlanders ever wore plaids is difficult to swallow. They were of twenty
different races, and almost all distinctly different from the Scots
Irish, who are the proper Scots, from which the Royal Family are
descended. For instance, there is scarce a great family in the Lowlands
of Scotland that is not to be traced to the Normans, the proudest as
well as most civilised race in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Is it
natural to think that holding the Scots in the contempt in which they
did, they would have adopted their dress? If you will look at Bruce's
speech to David I., as the historian Ælred tells the story, you will see
he talks of the Scots as a British officer would do of Cherokees. Or
take our country, the central and western part of the border: it was
British, Welsh if you please, with the language and manners of that
people who certainly wore no tartan. It is needless to prosecute this,
though I could show, I think, that there is no period in Scottish
History when the manners, language, or dress of the Highlanders were
adopted in the Low Country. They brought them with them from Ireland, as
you will see from the very curious prints in Derrick's picture of
Ireland, where you see the chiefs and followers of the wild Irish in the
ordinary Highland dress, _tempore_ Queen Elizabeth. Besides this, where
has slept this universal custom that nowhere, unless in this MS., is it
even heard of? Lesley knew it not, though the work had been in his
possession, and his attention must have been called to it when writing
concerning the three races of Scots--Highlanders, Lowlanders, and
Bordermen, and treating of their dress in particular. Andrew Borde knows
nothing of it, nor the Frenchman who published the geographical work
from which Pinkerton copied the prints of the Highlander and Lowlander,
the former in a frieze plaid or mantle, while the Lowlander struts away
in a cloak and trunk hose, liker his neighbour the Fleming. I will not
state other objections, though so many occur, that the authenticity of
the MS. being proved, I would rather suppose the author had been some
tartan-weaver zealous for his craft, who wished to extend the use of
tartan over the whole kingdom. I have been told, and believe till now,
that the use of tartan was never general in Scotland (Lowlands) until
the Union, when the detestation of that measure led it to be adopted as
the national colour, and the ladies all affected tartan screens or
mantles.

"Now, a word to your own private ear, my dear Sir Thomas. I have
understood that the Messrs. Hay Allan are young men of talent, great
accomplishments, enthusiasm for Scottish manners, and an exaggerating
imagination, which possibly deceives even themselves. I myself saw one
of these gentlemen wear the Badge of High Constable of Scotland, which
he could have no more right to wear than the Crown. Davidoff used also
to amuse us with stories of knighthoods and orders which he saw them
wear at Sir William Cumming Gordon's. Now this is all very well, and I
conceive people may fall into such dreaming habits easily enough, and be
very agreeable and talented men in other respects, and may be very
amusing companions in the country, but their authority as antiquaries
must necessarily be a little apocryphal when the faith of MSS. rests
upon their testimony. An old acquaintance of mine, Captain Watson of the
navy, told me he knew these gentlemen's father, and had served with him;
he was lieutenant, and of or about Captain Watson's age, between sixty I
suppose, and seventy at present. Now what chance was there that either
from age or situation he should be receiving gifts from the young
Chevalier of Highland Manuscripts.

"All this, my dear Sir Thomas, you will make your own, but I cannot
conceal from you my reasons, because I would wish you to know my real
opinion. If it is an imitation, it is a very good one, but the title
'Liber Vestiarium' is false Latin I should think not likely to occur to
a Scotsman of Buchanan's age. Did you look at the watermark of the MS.?
If the Manuscript be of undeniable antiquity, I consider it as a great
curiosity, and most worthy to be published. But I believe nothing else
than ocular inspection will satisfy most cautious
antiquaries....--Yours, my dear Sir Thomas, always,

WALTER SCOTT."

"EDINBURGH, 5 _June_ 1829."

The Messrs. Hay Allan subsequently took the names of John Sobieski
Stuart (who assumed the title of Comte d'Albanie) and Charles Edward
Stuart. John Sobieski died in 1872, and Charles Edward in 1880. The
"original" of Sir Richard Forrester's manuscript was never submitted to
the inspection of the Deputy Register, as suggested by Scott; but it was
published in a very handsome shape a dozen years later, and furnished a
text for an article in the _Quarterly_, in which the authenticity of the
book, and the claims of the author and his brother, were unsparingly
criticised by the late Professor Skene of Glasgow.--See "The Heirs of
the Stuarts" in _Quarterly Review_, vol. lxxxii.

[334] _Ante_, vol. i. p. 91, 92.

[335] There are so few of "Darsie Latimer's" letters preserved that the
following may be given relating to the _Bride of Lammermoor_:--

"EDIN. _Sept_. 1, 1829.

"MY DEAR SIR WALTER,--I greet you well (which, by the way, is the proper
mode of salutation in this cursed weather, that is enough to make us all
greet). But to come to my proposal, which is to forward to you a
communication I had within these few days from Sir Robert Horne
Dalrymple Elphinstone.

"After expressing the great pleasure the perusal of your notes to the
new edition of the Novels had given him, he adds: 'I wish you would give
him a hint of what I formerly mentioned to you regarding my
great-grandaunt and your own relative, the unfortunate Bride of
Lammermoor. It was first mentioned to me by Miss Maitland, the daughter
of Lady Rothes (they were the nearest neighbours of the Stair family in
Wigtownshire), and I afterwards heard the tradition from others in that
country. It was to the following effect, that when, after the noise and
violent screaming in the bridal chamber, comparative stillness
succeeded, and the door was forced, the window was found open, and it
was supposed by many that the lover (Lord Rutherford) had, by the
connivance of some of the servants, found means, during the bustle of
the marriage feast, to secrete himself within the apartment, and that
soon after the entry of the married pair, or at least as soon as the
parents and others retreated and the door was made fast, he had come out
from his concealment, attacked and desperately wounded the bridegroom,
and then made his escape by the window through the garden. As the
unfortunate bride never spoke after having uttered the words mentioned
by Sir Walter, no light could be thrown on the matter by them. But it
was thought that Bucklaw's obstinate silence on the subject favoured the
supposition of the chastisement having been inflicted by his rival. It
is but fair to give the unhappy victim (who was by all accounts a most
gentle and feminine creature) the benefit of an explanation on a
doubtful point.'

"So far my worthy friend, who seems a little jealous of the poor bride's
reputation. I send you his note, and you can make what you like of it. I
am intending a little jaunt to his country, and we mean to visit sundry
old castles in Aberdeenshire, and wish you were of the party. I have
heard nothing of Linton [cognomen for Sir Adam Ferguson] this summer. I
hope you have been passing your time agreeably.--With best compliments
to all friends, I remain, my dear Sir Walter, ever yours,

"WM. CLERK."



[336] Written by William Mudford, born 1782, died 1848.

[337] _Twelfth Night_, Act III. Sc. 4

[338] See _Life_, vol ix. pp. 325-6.

[339] The last reference in the Journal to his old friend Lady Jane
Stuart, who died on the following October.

[340] Now in the rooms of the Royal Society, Edinburgh.

[341] _Annals of the Peninsular War_. 3 vols. 8vo, 1829.

[342] _Memoirs of General Miller in the Service of the Republic of
Peru_. 2 vols. 8vo, 1829.

[343] Mr. Lockhart had written on June 6:--"Moore is at my elbow and
says he has not the face to bother you, but he has come exactly to the
part where your reminiscences of Lord Byron would come in; so he is
waiting for a week or so in case they should be forthcoming." And Moore
himself had previously reminded Sir Walter of his promise.

_April 25th_, 1829.

"My DEAR SCOTT,--It goes to my heart to bother you, knowing how bravely
and gloriously you are employed for that task-mistress--Posterity. But
you may thank your stars that I have let you off so long. All that you
promised me about Mrs. Gordon and Gicht, and a variety of other things,
is remitted to you; but I positively _must_ have something from you of
your recollections personally of Byron--and that as soon as possible,
for I am just coming to the period of your acquaintance with him, which
was, I think, in the year 1814. Tell me all the particulars of the
presents you exchanged, and if his letters to you are really _all_ lost
(which I will still hope is not the case); try, as much as possible,
with your memory

'To lure the tassel gentles back again.'

"You will have seen by the newspapers the sad loss my little circle of
home has experienced, a loss never to be made up to us in this world,
whatever it may be the will of God in another. Mrs. Moore's own health
is much broken, and she is about to try what Cheltenham can do for her,
while I proceed to finish my printing in town. It would be far better
for me to remain in my present quiet retreat, where I am working quite
alone, but the devils beckon me nearer them, and I must begin in a few
days. Direct to me, under cover to Croker--you see I take for granted
you will have a packet to send--and he will always know where to find
me.

"My kindest remembrances to Miss Scott, and believe me ever, my very
dear friend, your truly and affectionate,

"THOS. MOORE."

The "memoranda" were not acknowledged by Moore till Oct. 31, when he
wrote Scott as follows:--

"MY DEAR SCOTT,--I ought to blush 'terrestrial rosy-red, shame's proper
hue' for not sooner acknowledging your precious notes about Byron. One
conclusion, however, you might have drawn from my silence, namely, that
I was satisfied, and had all that I asked for. Your few pages indeed
will be the best ornament of my book. Murray wished me to write to you
(immediately on receipt of the last MS. you sent me) to press your
asking Hobhouse for the letter of your own (in 1812) that produced
Byron's reply. But I was doubtful whether you would like to authorise
the publication of this letter, and besides it would be now too late, as
the devils are in full hue and cry after my heels.

"Health and prosperity to you, my dear friend, and believe me, ever
yours most truly,

"THOMAS MOORE."



[344] Burns.

[345] _Merry Wives_, Act I. Sc. 3.

[346] Mr. Skene at this time was engaged upon a series of etchings,
regarding which he had several letters from Sir Walter, one of which may
be given here:--

"MY DEAR SKENE,--I enclose you Basil Hall's letter, which is very
interesting to me; but I would rather decline fixing the attention of
the public further on my old friend George Constable. You know the
modern rage for publication, and it might serve some newsmen's purpose
by publishing something about my old friend, who was an humourist, which
may be unpleasing to his friends and surviving relations.

"I did not think on Craignethan in writing about Tillietudlem, and I
believe it differs in several respects from my Chateau en Espagne. It is
not on the Clyde in particular, and, if I recollect, the view is limited
and wooded. But that can be no objection to adopting it as that which
public taste has adopted as coming nearest to the ideal of the place. Of
the places in the _Black Dwarf,_ Meiklestane Moor, Ellislie,
Earnscliffe, are all and each _vox et, praeterea nihil_. Westburnflat
once was a real spot, now there is no subject for the pencil. The
vestiges of a tower at the junction of two wild brooks with a rude
hillside, are all that are subjects for the pencil, and they are very
poor ones. Earnscliffe and Ganderscleuch are also visions.

"I hope your work is afloat[B] and sailing bobbishly. I have not heard
of or seen it.

"_Rob Roy_ has some good and real subjects, as the pass at Loch Ard, the
beautiful fall at Ledeard, near the head of the lake. Let me know all
you desire to be informed without fear of bothering. Kindest compliments
to Mrs. Skene and the young folks.--Always yours entirely, WALTER
SCOTT."



[B] Twenty numbers of this work were published in 1828 and 1829 under
the title of "A Series of Sketches of the existing Localities alluded to
in the Waverley Novels," etched from original drawings by James Skene,
Esq.

[347] A copy of this rather rare book is still in the Abbotsford
Library. Its title is "Colonel Wm. Francklin's Military Memoirs of
George Thomas, who by extraordinary talents and enterprise rose from an
obscure situation to the rank of General in the service of the Native
Powers in the N.W. of India," 4to, Calcutta, 1803.

[348] The poem of this name is attributed to King James I. of Scotland,
but Dr. Irving in his _History of Scottish Poetry_ says the earliest
edition known to him dates only from 1663.

[349] Professor of Logic in the University of Edinburgh from 1775 till
1792, when he resigned his chair and became Keeper of the State Paper
Office, and Historiographer to the East India Company in London. He
wrote several elaborate and valuable reports for the Government, which,
though printed, were never published; among others, one in 1799, in 2
vols. 8vo, "On the Union between England and Scotland: its causes,
effects, and influence of Great Britain in Europe." In the previous year
he also prepared another on the arrangements made for repelling the
Armada, and their application to the crisis of 1798. This able man
returned to Scotland, and died in Falkland about two years before Scott
visited the place.

[350] An account of the finding of this seal (which was thought to be
that of Joan of Beaufort, wife of James I.) at Kinross, in April 1829,
is given in the _Archæologia Scotica,_ vol. iv. p. 420.




JULY.


_July_ 1.--This morning wrote letters and sent them off by Charles. It
was Teind Wednesday, so I was at home to witness the departure of my
family, which was depressing. My two daughters, with the poor boy
Johnnie, went off at ten o'clock, my son Charles, with my niece, about
twelve. The house, filled with a little bustle attendant on such a
removal, then became silent as the grave. The voices of the children,
which had lately been so clamorous with their joyous shouts, are now
hushed and still. A blank of this kind is somewhat depressing, and I
find it impossible to resume my general tone of spirits. A lethargy has
crept on me which no efforts can dispel; and as the day is rainy, I
cannot take exercise. I have read therefore the whole morning, and have
endeavoured to collect ideas instead of expending them. I have not been
very successful. In short, _diem perdidi_.

Localities at Blair-Adam:--

    Lochornie and Lochornie Moss,
    The Loutingstane and Dodgell's Cross,
    Craigen Cat and Craigen Crow,
    Craiggaveral, the King's Cross, and Dunglow.

_July_ 2.--I made up for my deficiencies yesterday, and besides
attending the Court wrote five close pages, which I think is very near
double task. I was alone the whole day and without interruption. I have
little doubt I will make my solitude tell upon my labours, especially
since they promise to prove so efficient. I was so languid yesterday
that I did not record that J. Ballantyne, his brother Sandy, and Mr.
Cadell dined here on a beef-steak, and smoked a cigar, and took a view
of our El Dorado.

_July_ 3.--Laboured at Court, where I was kept late, and wrought on my
return home, finishing about five pages. I had the great pleasure to
learn that the party with the infantry got safe to Abbotsford.

_July_ 4.--After Court I came home and set to work, still on the
_Tales_. When I had finished my bit of dinner, and was in a quiet way
smoking my cigar over a glass of negus, Adam Ferguson comes with a
summons to attend him to the Justice-Clerk's, where, it seems, I was
engaged. I was totally out of case to attend his summons, redolent as I
was of tobacco. But I am vexed at the circumstance. It looks careless,
and, what is worse, affected; and the Justice is an old friend
moreover.[351] I rather think I have been guilty towards him in this
respect before. Devil take my stupidity! I will call on Monday and say,
Here is my sabre and here is my heart.

_July_ 5.--Sir Adam came to breakfast, and with him Mr. and Mrs.
Johnstone of Bordeaux, the lady his cousin. I could not give them a
right Scottish breakfast, being on a Sunday morning. Laboured on the
_Tales_ the whole morning.

The post brought two letters of unequal importance. One from a person
calling himself Haval, announcing to me the terrific circumstance that
he had written against the Waverley Novels in a publication called _La
Belle Assemblée_, at which doubtless, he supposes, I must be much
annoyed. He be d----, and that's plain speaking. The other from Lord
Aberdeen, announcing that Lockhart, Dr. Gooch, and myself, are invested
with the power of examining the papers of the Cardinal Duke of York, and
reporting what is fit for publication. This makes it plain that the
Invisible[352] neither slumbers nor sleeps. The toil and remuneration
must be Lockhart's, and to any person understanding that sort of work
the degree of trust reposed holds out hope of advantage. At any rate, it
is a most honourable trust, and I have written in suitable terms to Lord
Aberdeen to express my acceptance of it, adverting to my necessary
occupations here, and expressing my willingness to visit London
occasionally to superintend the progress of the work. Treated myself,
being considerably fagged, with a glass of poor Glengarry's
super-excellent whisky and a cigar, made up my Journal, wrote to the
girls, and so to roost upon a crust of bread and a glass of small beer,
my usual supper.

_July_ 6.--I laboured all the morning without anything unusual, save a
call from my cousin, Mary Scott of Jedburgh, whom I persuaded to take
part of my chaise to Abbotsford on Saturday. At two o'clock I walked to
Cadell's, and afterwards to a committee of the Bannatyne Club.
Thereafter I went to Leith, where we had fixed a meeting of _The Club_,
now of forty-one years' standing.[353] I was in the chair, and Sir Adam
croupier. We had the Justice-Clerk, Lord Abercromby, Lord Pitmilly, Lord
Advocate, James Ferguson, John Irving, and William Clerk, and passed a
merry day for old fellows. It is a curious thing that only _three_ have
died of this club since its formation. These were the Earl of Selkirk;
James Clerk, Lieutenant in the Navy; and Archibald Miller, W.S. Sir
Patrick Murray was an unwilling absentee. There were absent--Professor
Davidson of Glasgow, besides Glassford, who has cut our society, and
poor James Edmonstoune, whose state of health precludes his ever joining
society again. We took a fair but moderate allowance of wine, sung our
old songs, and were much refreshed with a hundred old stories, which
would have seemed insignificant to any stranger. The most important of
these were old college adventures of love and battle.

_July_ 7.--I was rather apprehensive that I might have felt my unusual
dissipation this morning, but not a whit; I rose as cool as a cucumber,
and set about to my work till breakfast-time. I am to dine with
Ballantyne to-day. To-morrow with John Murray. This sounds sadly like
idleness, except what may be done either in the morning before
breakfast, or in the broken portion of the day between attendance on the
Court and my dinner meal,--a vile, drowsy, yawning, fagged portion of
existence, which resembles one's day, as a portion of the shirt,
escaping betwixt one's waistcoat and breeches, indicates his linen.

Dined with James Ballantyne, who gave us a very pleasant party. There
was a great musician, Mr. Neukomm, a German, a pupil of Haydn, a
sensible, pleasant man.

_July_ 8.--This morning I had an ample dose of proofs and could do
nothing but read them. The Court kept me till two; I was then half
tempted to go to hear Mr. Neukomm perform on the organ, which is said to
be a most masterly exhibition, but I reflected how much time I should
lose by giving way to temptation, and how little such ears as mine would
be benefited by the exhibition, and so I resolved to return to my
proofs, having not a little to do. I was so unlucky as to meet my
foreigner along with Mr. Laine, the French Consul, and his lady, who all
invited me to go with them, but I pleaded business, and was set down,
doubtless, for a Goth, as I deserved. However, I got my proofs settled
before dinner-time, and began to pack up books, etc.

I dined at John Murray's, and met, amongst others, Mr. Schutze, the
brother-in-law of poor George Ellis. We conversed about our mutual
friend, and about the life Canning was to have written about him, and
which he would have done _con amore_. He gave me two instances of poor
George's neatness of expression, and acuteness of discrimination. Having
met, for the first time, "one Perceval, a young lawyer," he records him
as a person who, with the advantages of life and opportunity, would
assuredly rise to the head of affairs. Another gentleman is briefly
characterised as "a man of few words, and fewer ideas." Schutze himself
is a clever man, with something dry in his manner, owing, perhaps, to an
imperfection of hearing. Murray's parties are always agreeable and well
chosen.

_July_ 9.--I began an immense arrangement of my papers, but was obliged
to desist by the approach of four o'clock. Having been enabled to shirk
the Court, I had the whole day to do what I wished, and as I made some
progress I hope I will be strengthened to resume the task when at
Abbotsford.

Heard of the death of poor Bob Shortreed,[354] the companion of many a
long ride among the hills in quest of old ballads. He was a merry
companion, a good singer and mimic, and full of Scottish drollery. In
his company, and under his guidance, I was able to see much of rural
society in the mountains which I could not otherwise have attained, and
which I have made my use of. He was, in addition, a man of worth and
character. I always burdened his hospitality while at Jedburgh on the
Circuit, and have been useful to some of his family. Poor fellow! He
died at a most interesting period for his family, when his eldest
daughter was about to make an advantageous marriage. So glide our
friends from us--_Haec poena diu viventibus_. Many recollections die
with him and with poor Terry.[355] I dined with the Skenes in a family
way.

_July_ 10,--Had a hard day's work at the Court till about two, and then
came home to prepare for the country. I made a _talis qualis_
arrangement of my papers, which I trust I shall be able to complete at
Abbotsford, for it will do much good. I wish I had a smart boy like Red
Robin the tinker. Wrote also a pack of letters.

_Abbotsford, July_ 11.--I was detained in the Court till nearly one
o'clock, then set out and reached Abbotsford in five or six hours. Found
all well, and Johnnie rather better. He sleeps, by virtue of being in
the open air, a good deal.

_July_ 12.--The day excessively rainy, or, as we call it, soft. I e'en
unpacked my books and did a great deal to put them in order, but I was
sick of the labour by two o'clock and left several of my books and all
of my papers at sixes and sevens. Sir Adam and the Colonel dined with
us. A Spanish gentleman with his wife, whom I had seen at the French
Consul's, also dropped in. He was a handsome, intelligent, and sensible
man; his name I have forgot. We had a pleasant evening.

_July_ 13.--This day I wrote till one, resuming the History, and making
out a day's task. Then went to Chiefswood, and had the pleasure of a
long walk with a lady, well known in the world of poetry, Mrs. Hemans.
She is young and pretty, though the mother of five children, as she
tells me. There is taste and spirit in her conversation. My daughters
are critical, and call her blue, but I think they are hypercritical. I
will know better when we meet again. I was home at four. Had an evening
walk with little Walter, who held me by the finger, gabbling eternally
much that I did, and more that I did not, understand. Then I had a long
letter to write to Lockhart,[356] correct and read, and despatch proofs,
etc.; and to bed heartily tired, though with no great exertion.

_July_ 14.--A rainy forenoon broke the promise of a delightful morning.
I wrote four and a half pages, to make the best of a bad bargain. If I
can double the daily task, I will be something in hand. But I am
resolved to stick to my three pages a day at least. The twelfth of
August will then complete my labours.

_July_ 15.--This day two very pretty and well-bred boys came over to
breakfast with us. I finished my task of three pages and better, and
went to walk with the little fellows round the farm, by the lake, etc.,
etc. They were very good companions. Tom has been busy thinning the
terrace this day or two, and is to go on.

_July_ 16.--I made out my task-work and betook myself to walk about
twelve. I feel the pen turn heavy after breakfast; perhaps my solemn
morning meal is too much for my intellectual powers, but I won't abridge
a single crumb for all that. I eat very little at dinner, and can't
abide to be confined in my hearty breakfast. The work goes on as
task-work must, slow, sure, and I trust not drowsy, though the author
is. I sent off to Dionysius Lardner (Goodness be with us, what a name!)
as far as page thirty-eight inclusive, but I will wait to add
to-morrow's quota. I had a long walk with Tom.[357] I am walking with
more pleasure and comfort to myself than I have done for many a day.
May Heaven continue this great mercy, which I have so much reason to be
thankful for!

_July_ 17.--- We called at Chiefswood and asked Captain Hamilton, and
Mrs. H., and Mrs. Hemans, to dinner on Monday. She is a clever person,
and has been pretty. I had a long walk with her _tête-à-tête_. She told
me of the peculiar melancholy attached to the words _no more_. I could
not help telling, as a different application of the words, how an old
dame riding home along Cockenzie Sands, pretty bowsy, fell off the
pillion, and her husband, being in good order also, did not miss her
till he came to Prestonpans. He instantly returned with some neighbours,
and found the good woman seated amidst the advancing tide, which began
to rise, with her lips ejaculating to her cummers, who she supposed were
still pressing her to another cup, "Nae ae drap mair, I thank you
kindly." We dined in family, and all well.

_July_ 18.--- A Sunday with alternate showers and sunshine. Wrote double
task, which brings me to page forty-six inclusive. I read the
_Spae-wife_ of Galt. There is something good in it, and the language is
occasionally very forcible, but he has made his story difficult to
understand, by adopting a region of history little known, and having
many heroes of the same name, whom it is not easy to keep separate in
one's memory. Some of the traits of the _Spae-wife_, who conceits
herself to be a changeling or twin, are very good indeed. His Highland
Chief is a kind of Caliban, and speaks, like Caliban, a jargon never
spoken on earth, but full of effect for all that.

_July_ 19.--I finished two leaves this morning, and received the
Hamiltons and Mrs. Hemans to breakfast. Afterwards we drove to Yarrow
and showed Mrs. Hemans the lions. The party dined with us, and stayed
till evening. Of course no more work.

_July_ 20.--A rainy day, and I am very drowsy and would give the world
to ------[358]. [Transcriber's Note: In original, there was a blank
space instead of the dashes.] I wrote four leaves, however, and then my
understanding dropped me. I have made up for yesterday's short task.

       *       *       *       *       *

     NOTE.--From July 20th, 1329, to May 23d, 1830, there are no entries
     in the Journal, but during that time Sir Walter met with a sad
     loss. He was deprived of his humble friend and staunch henchman,
     Thomas Purdie. The following little note to Laidlaw shows how
     keenly he felt his death:--

     "MY DEAR WILLIE,--I write to tell you the shocking news of poor Tom
     Purdie's death, by which I have been greatly affected. He had
     complained, or rather spoken, of a sore throat; and the day before
     yesterday, as it came on a shower of rain, I wanted him to walk
     fast on to Abbotsford before me, but you know well how impossible
     that was. He took some jelly, or trifle of that kind, but made no
     complaint. This morning he rose from bed as usual, and sat down by
     the table with his head on his hand; and when his daughter spoke to
     him, life had passed away without a sigh or groan. Poor fellow!
     There is a heart cold that loved me well, and, I am sure, thought
     of my interest more than his own. I have seldom been so much
     shocked. I wish you would take a ride down and pass the night.
     There is much I have to say, and this loss adds to my wish to see
     you. We dine at four. The day is indifferent, but the sooner the
     better.--Yours very truly,

     "WALTER SCOTT.[359]

     "_31st_ (sic) _October_," Qy. _29th_.

     To Mr. Cadell, a few days later, he says, "I have lost my old and
     faithful servant, my _factotum_, and am so much shocked that I
     really wish to be quit of the country. I have this day laid him in
     the grave."

     On coming to Edinburgh, Sir Walter found that his old friend and
     neighbour Lady Jane Stuart[360] was no longer there to welcome him.
     She also had died somewhat suddenly on October 28th, and was buried
     at Invermay on November 4th.


FOOTNOTES:

[351] Right Hon. David Boyle.

[352] 5 The familiar name applied to Sir William Knighton, sometimes
also the Great Unseen.

[353] For list of the members of _The Club_, which was formed in 1788,
see _Life_, vol. i. p. 208.

[354] Some little time before his death, the worthy Sheriff-substitute
of Roxburghshire received a set of his friend's works, with this
inscription:--"To Robert Shortreed, Esq., the friend of the author from
youth to age, and his guide and companion upon many an expedition among
the Border hills, in quest of the materials of legendary lore which have
at length filled so many volumes, this collection of the results of
their former rambles is presented by his sincere friend, Walter
Scott."--J.G.L.

[355] Who had died on the 22d June 1829.

[356] See p. 329 _n._

[357] Mr. Skene in his _Reminiscences_ records that--"Tom Purdie
identified himself with all his master's pursuits and concerns; he had
in early life been a shepherd, and came into Sir Walter's service upon
his first taking up his abode at Ashiestiel, of which he became at last
the farm manager; and upon the family removing to Abbotsford continued
that function, to which was added gamekeeper, forester, librarian, and
henchman to his master in all his rambles about the property. He used to
talk of Sir Walter's publications as _our_ books, and said that the
reading of them was the greatest comfort to him, for whenever he was off
his sleep, which sometimes happened to him, he had only to take one of
the novels, and before he read two pages it was sure to set him asleep.
Tom, with the usual shrewdness common to his countrymen in that class of
life, joined a quaintness and drollery in his notions and mode of
expressing himself that was very amusing; he was familiar, but at the
same time perfectly respectful, although he was sometimes tempted to
deal sharp cuts, particularly at Sir Adam Ferguson, whom he seemed to
take a pleasure in assailing. When Sir Walter obtained the honour of
knighthood for Sir Adam, upon the plea of his being Custodier of the
Regalia of Scotland, Tom was very indignant, because he said, 'It would
take some of the shine out of us,' meaning Sir Walter. Tom was very fond
of salmon fishing, which from an accordance of taste contributed much to
elevate my merits in his eyes, and I believe I was his greatest
favourite of all Sir Walter's friends, which he used occasionally to
testify by imparting to me in confidence some secret about fishing,
which he concluded that no one knew but himself. He was remarkably
fastidious in his care of the Library, and it was exceedingly amusing to
see a clodhopper (for he was always in the garb of a ploughman) moving
about in the splendid apartment which had been fitted up for the
Library, scrutinising the state of the books, putting derangement to
rights, remonstrating when he observed anything that indicated
carelessness."

[358] Blank in original

[359] _Abbotsford Notanda_, p. 175.

[360] Eldest daughter of David, sixth Earl of Leven and fifth of
Melville, and widow of Sir John Wishart Belsches Stuart, Bart., of
Fettercairn. See _ante_, vol. i. p. 404; vol. ii. pp. 55, 62.




1830.




MAY.


_May_ 23, [_Abbotsford._]--About a year ago I took the pet at my Diary,
chiefly because I thought it made me abominably selfish; and that by
recording my gloomy fits I encouraged their recurrence, whereas out of
sight, out of mind, is the best way to get rid of them; and now I hardly
know why I take it up again; but here goes. I came here to attend
Raeburn's funeral. I am near of his kin, my great-grandfather, Walter
Scott, being the second son or first cadet of this small family. My late
kinsman was also married to my aunt, a most amiable old lady. He was
never kind to me, and at last utterly ungracious. Of course I never
liked him, and we kept no terms. He had forgot, though, an infantine
cause of quarrel, which I always remembered. When I was four or five
years old I was staying at Lessudden House, an old mansion, the abode of
this Raeburn. A large pigeon-house was almost destroyed with starlings,
then a common bird, though now seldom seen. They were seized in their
nests and put in a bag, and I think drowned, or threshed to death, or
put to some such end. The servants gave one to me, which I in some
degree tamed, and the brute of a laird seized and wrung its neck. I flew
at his throat like a wild cat, and was torn from him with no little
difficulty. Long afterwards I did him the mortal offence to recall some
superiority which my father had lent to the laird to make up a
qualification, which he meant to exercise by voting for Lord Minto's
interest against poor Don. This made a total breach between two
relations who had never been friends, and though I was afterwards of
considerable service to his family, he kept his ill-humour, alleging
justly enough that I did these kind actions for the sake of his wife and
family, not for his benefit. I now saw him at the age of eighty-two or
three deposited in the ancestral grave. Dined with my cousins, and
returned to Abbotsford about eight o'clock.

_May 24, [Edinburgh]._--Called on my neighbour Nicol Milne of
Faldonside, to settle something about the road to Selkirk. Afterwards
went to Huntly Burn and made my compliments to the family. Lunched at
half-past two and drove to town, calling at George Square on Gala. He
proposed to give up the present road to Selkirk in favour of another on
the north side of the river, to be completed by two bridges. This is an
object for Abbotsford. In the evening came to town. Letter from Mr.
H[aydon] soliciting £20. Wait till Lockhart comes.

_May_ 25.--Got into the old mill this morning, and grind away. Walked in
very bad day to George Square from the Parliament House, through paths
once familiar, but not trod for twenty years. Met Scott of Woll and
Scott of Gala, and consulted about the new road between Galashiels and
Selkirk. I am in hopes to rid myself of the road to Selkirk, which goes
too near me at Abbotsford. Dined at Lord Chief Commissioner's, where we
met the new Chief Baron Abercromby[361] and his lady. I thought it was
the first time we had met for above forty years, but he put me in mind
we had dined one day at John Richardson's.

_May_ 26.--Wrought with proofs, etc., at the _Demonology_, which is a
cursed business to do neatly. I must finish it though, for I need
money. I went to the Court; from that came home, and scrambled on with
half writing, half reading, half idleness till evening. I have laid
aside smoking much; and now, unless tempted by company, rarely take a
cigar. I was frightened by a species of fit which I had in February,
which took from me my power of speaking. I am told it is from the
stomach. It looked woundy like palsy or apoplexy. Well, be it what it
will, I can stand it.[362]

_May_ 27.--Court as usual. I am agitating a proposed retirement from
the Court. As they are only to have four instead of six Clerks of
Session in Scotland, it will be their interest to let me retire on a
superannuation. Probably I shall make a bad bargain, and get only
two-thirds of the salary, instead of three-fourths. This would be hard,
but I could save between two and three hundred pounds by giving up town
residence; and surely I could do enough with my time at reviews and
other ways, so as to make myself comfortable at Abbotsford. At any rate,
_jacta est aha_; Sir Robert Peel and the Advocate seem to acquiesce in
the arrangement, and Sir Robert Dundas retires alongst with me. I think
the difference will be infinite in point of health and happiness.

_May_ 28.--Wrought in the morning, then the Court, then Cadell's. My
affairs go on up to calculation, and the _Magnum_ keeps its ground. If
this can last for five or six years longer we may clear our hands of
debt; but perhaps I shall have paid that of Nature before that time
come. They will have the books, and Cadell to manage them, who is a
faithful pilot. The poetry which we purchased for [£7000], payable in
two years, is melting off our hands; and we will feed our _Magnum_ in
that way when we have sold the present stock, by which we hope to pay
the purchase-money, and so go on velvet with the continuation. So my
general affairs look well. I expect Lockhart and Sophia to arrive this
evening in the Roads, and breakfast with us to-morrow. This is very
reviving.

_May_ 29.--The Lockharts were to appear at nine o'clock, but it is past
four, and they come not. There has been easterly wind, and a swell of
the sea at the mouth of the Firth, but nevertheless I wish they would
come. The machinery is liable to accidents, and they may be delayed
thus.

Mr. Piper, the great contractor for the mail coaches, one of the
sharpest men in his line, called here to-day to give his consent to our
line of road. He pays me the compliment of saying he wishes my views on
the subject. That is perhaps fudge, but at least I know enough to choose
the line that is most for my own advantage. I have written to make Gala
acquainted that my subscription depends on their taking the Gala foot
road; no other would suit me. After dinner I began to tease myself about
the children and their parents, and night went down on our uncertainty.

_May_ 30.--Our travellers appeared early in the morning, _cum tota
sequela_. Right happy were we all. Poor Johnnie looks well. His
deformity is confirmed, poor fellow; but he may be a clever lad for all
that. An imposthume in his neck seems to be the crisis of his complaint.
He is a gentle, placid creature. Walter is remarkably handsome, and so
is little Whippety Stourie,[363] as I call her. After breakfast I had a
chat with Lockhart about affairs in general, which, as far as our little
interests are concerned, are doing very well. Lockhart is now
established in his reputation and literary prospects.[364] I wrote some
more in his _Demonology_, which is a scrape, I think.

_May_ 31.--Set to work early, and did a good day's work without much
puffing and blowing. Had Lockhart at dinner, and a _tête-à-tête_ over
our cigar. He has got the right ideas for getting to the very head of
the literary world and now stands very high as well for taste and
judgment as for genius. I think there is no fear now of his letting a
love of fun run away with him. At home the whole day, except a walk to
Cadell's, who is enlarging his sale. As he comes upon heavy months, and
is come now to the _Abbot_, the _Monastery_, and the less profitable or
popular of the novels, this is a fortunate circumstance. The management
seems very judicious.

FOOTNOTES:

[361] James Abercromby, who succeeded Sir Samuel Shepherd as Chief
Baron, was the third son of Sir Ralph Abercromby. He was afterwards
elected member for Edinburgh in 1832, and Speaker of the House of
Commons in 1835. On Mr. Abercromby's retirement in 1839, he was raised
to the Peerage as Lord Dunfermline. He died at Colinton House on April
17th, 1858, aged 81.

[362] Of this illness, Sir Walter had written the following account to
Mr. Lockhart, a week after its occurrence:--

"Anne would tell you of an awkward sort of fit I had on Monday last; it
lasted about five minutes, during which I lost the power of
articulation, or rather of speaking what I wished to say. I revived
instantly, but submitted to be bled, and to keep the house for a week,
except exercising walks. They seem to say it is from the stomach. It may
or may not be a paralytic affection. We must do the best we can in
either event. I think by hard work I will have all my affairs regulated
within five or six years, and leave the means of clearing them in case
of my death. I hope there will be enough for all, and provision besides
for my own family. The present return of the novels to me is about £8000
a year, which moves fast on to clear off old scores.

"This awkward turn of health makes my motions very uncertain. On the one
hand I want to save money and push forward work, both which motives urge
me to stay at home this spring. On the other, besides my great wish to
see you all, and besides my desire to look at the 'forty-five' affairs,
I am also desirous to put in for my interest upon the changes at the
Court.... It must be very much as health and weather shall determine,
for if I see the least chance of a return of this irritation, my own
house will be the only fit place for me. Do not suppose I am either
low-spirited or frightened at the possibilities I calculate upon, but
there is no harm in looking at what may be as what needs must be. I
really believe the ugly symptoms proceed from the stomach particularly.
I feel, thank God, no mental injury, which is most of all to be
deprecated. Still, I am a good deal failed in body within these two or
three last years, and the _singula praedantur_ come by degrees to make
up a sum. They say, 'Do not work,' but my habits are such that it is not
easily managed, for I would be driven mad with idleness.... Adieu. Love
to all. The odds are greatly against my seeing you till you come down
here, but I will have the cottage in such order for you; and as Will
Laidlaw comes back at Whitsunday, I will have him to lend me an arm to
Chiefswood, and I have no doubt to do gallantly.

"EDINBURGH, _22d February_ [1830]."

[363] His grand-daughter, Charlotte, whom he playfully named after the
fairy in the old Scottish Nursery story.

[364] Mr. Lockhart had some thoughts of entering Parliament, at this
time, and Sir Walter had expressed his opinion a few days before their
meeting:--

"Your letter, this day received, namely Wednesday, gave me the greatest
pleasure on account of the prosperous intelligence which it gives me of
your own advancing prospects.... I take it for granted that you have
looked to the income of future years before thinking of disposing of the
profits of a successful one in a manner which cannot be supposed to
produce positive Or direct advantage, but may rather argue some
additional degree of expense.

"But this being _premeesed_, I cannot help highly approving of your
going into Parliament, especially as a member entirely unfettered and
left to act according to the weal of the public, or what you conceive
such. It is the broad turnpike to importance and consequence which you,
as a man of talents in the full vigour of your youth, ought naturally to
be ambitious of. The present times threaten to bring in many occasions
when there will and must be opportunities of a man distinguishing
himself and serving his country.

"To go into the House without speaking would be useless. I will frankly
tell you that when I heard you speak you seemed always sufficiently up
to the occasion both in words and matter, but too indifferent in the
manner in which you pressed your argument, and therefore far less likely
to attract attention than if you had seemed more earnestly persuaded of
the truth and importance of what you have been saying. I think you may
gain advantage from taking this hint. No one is disposed to weigh any
man's arguments more favourably than he himself does, and if you are not
considered as gravely interested in what you say, and conscious of its
importance, your audience will not be so....

"EDINBURGH, _20th May 1830_."




JUNE.


_June_, 1.--Proofs and Court, the inevitable employment of the day.
Louisa Kerr dined with us, and Williams looked in. We talked a good deal
on Celtic witchery and fairy lore. I was glad to renew my acquaintance
with this able and learned man.

_June_ 2.--The Lockharts left us again this morning, and although three
masons are clanking at their work to clear a well, the noise is
mitigated, now the poor babies' clang of tongues is removed. I set
myself to write, determining to avoid reasoning, and to bring in as many
stories as possible. Being a Teind Wednesday, I may work undisturbed,
and I will try to get so far ahead as may permit a journey to Abbotsford
on Saturday. At nine o'clock was as far ahead as page 57. It runs out
well, and 150 pages will do.

_June_ 3.--Finished my proofs, and sent them off with copy. I saw Mr.
Dickinson[365] on Tuesday: a right plain sensible man. He is so
confident in my matters, that, being a large creditor himself, he offers
to come down, with the support of all the London creditors, to carry
through any measure that can be devised for my behoof. Mr. Cadell showed
him that we are four years forward in matter prepared for the press. Got
Heath's illustrations, which, I dare say, are finely engraved, but
commonplace enough in point of art.

_June_ 4.--Court as usual, and not long detained. Visited Cadell. All
right, and his reports favourable, it being the launch of our annual
volume, now traversing a year, with unblemished reputation and success
uninterrupted. I should have said I overhauled proofs and furnished copy
in the morning between seven and ten o'clock.

After coming from the Court I met Woll and Gala, and agreed upon the
measures to be attempted at Selkirk on the eighth at the meeting of
trustees. In the evening smoked an extra cigar (none since Tuesday), and
dedicated the rest to putting up papers, etc., for Abbotsford. Anne
wants me to go to hear the Tyrolese Minstrels, but though no one more
esteems that bold and high-spirited people, I cannot but think their
yodelling, if this be the word, is a variation, or set of variations,
upon the tones of a jackass, so I remain to dribble and scribble at
home.

_June_ 5.--I rose at seven as usual, and, to say truth, dawdled away my
time in putting things to rights, which is a vile amusement, and writing
letters to people who write to ask my opinion of their books, which is
as much as to say--"Tom, come tickle me." This is worse than the other
pastime, but either may serve for a broken day, and both must be done
sometimes.

[_Abbotsford_.]--After the Court, started for Abbotsford at half-past
twelve at noon, and here we are at half-past five _impransi_. The
country looks beautiful, though the foliage, larches in particular, have
had a blight. Yet they can hardly be said to lose foliage since they
have but a sort of brushes at best.

_June_ 6.--Went through a good deal of duty as to proofs, and the like.
At two set out and reached by four Chiefswood, where I had the happiness
to find the Lockharts all in high spirits, well and happy. Johnnie must
be all his life a weakly child, but he may have good health, and
possesses an admirable temper. We dined with the Lockharts, and were all
very happy.

_June_ 7.--Same duty carefully performed. I continued working till
about one, when Lockhart came to walk. We took our course round by the
Lake. I was a good deal fagged, and must have tired my companion by
walking slow. The Fergusons came over--Sir Adam in all his glory--and
"the night drave on wi' sangs and clatter."[366]

_June_ 8.--Had not time to do more than correct a sheet or two. About
eleven set off for Selkirk, where there was a considerable meeting of
road trustees. The consideration of the new road was intrusted to a
committee which in some measure blinks the question; yet I think it must
do in the end. I dined with the Club, young Chesters president. It is
but bad fun, but I might be father of most of them, and must have
patience. At length

    "Hame cam our gudeman at e'en,
      And hame cam he."[367]

_June_ 9.--In the morning I advised Sheriff Court processes, carried on
the _Demonology_ till twelve, then put books, etc., in some order to
leave behind me. Will it be ordered that I come back not like a
stranger, or sojourner, but to inhabit here? I do not know; I shall be
happy either way. It is perhaps a violent change in the end of life to
quit the walk one has trod so long, and the cursed splenetic temper,
which besets all men, makes you value opportunities and circumstances
when one enjoys them no longer. Well! things must be as they may, as
says that great philosopher Corporal Nym.[368]

[_Edinburgh_.]--I had my walk, and on my return found the Lockharts come
to take luncheon, and leave of us. Reached Edinburgh at nine o'clock.
Found, among less interesting letters, two from Lord Northampton on the
death of the poor Marchioness,[369] and from Anna Jane Clephane on the
same melancholy topic. _Hei mihi!_

_June_ 10.--Corrected proofs, prepared some copy, and did all that was
right. Dined and wrought in the evening, yet I did not make much way
after all.

_June_ 11.--In the morning, the usual labour of two hours. God bless
that habit of being up at seven! I could do nothing without it, but it
keeps me up to the scratch, as they say. I had a letter this morning
with deep mourning paper and seal; the mention of my nephew in the first
line made me sick, fearing it had related to Walter. It was from poor
Sir Thomas Bradford, who has lost his lady, but was indeed an account of
Walter,[370] and a good one.

_June_ 12.--A day of general labour and much weariness.

_June_ 13.--The same may be said of this day.

_June_ 14.--And of this, only I went out for an hour and a half to Mr.
Colvin Smith, to conclude a picture for Lord Gillies. This is a sad
relief from labour.

    "... Sedet æternumque sedebit
    Infelix Theseus."[371]

But Lord Gillies has been so kind and civil that I must have his picture
as like as possible.

_June_ 15.--I had at breakfast the son of Mr. Fellenburg[372] of
Hofwyll, Switzerland, a modest young man. I used to think his father
something of a quack, in proposing to discover how a boy's natural
genius lies, with a view to his education. How would they have made me a
scholar, is a curious question. Whatever was forced on me as a task I
should have detested. There was also a gentlemanlike little man, the
Chevalier de----, silent, and speaks no English. Poor George Scott,
Harden, is dead of the typhus fever. Poor dear boy! I am sorry for him,
and yet more for his parents. I have a letter from Henry on the subject.

_June_ 16.--I wrote this forenoon till I completed the 100 pages, which
is well done. I had a call from Colin Mackenzie, whom I had not seen
for nearly two years. He has not been so well, and looks ghastly, but I
think not worse than I have seen him of late years. We are very old
acquaintances. I remember he was one of a small party at college, that
formed ourselves into a club called the Poetical Society. The other
members were Charles Kerr of Abbotrule (a singular being), Colin
M'Laurin (insane), Colin, and I, who have luckily kept our wits. I also
saw this morning a Mr. Low, a youth of great learning, who has written a
good deal on the early history of Scotland.[373] He is a good-looking,
frank, gentlemanlike lad; with these good gifts only a parish
schoolmaster in Aberdeenshire. Having won a fair holiday I go to see
Miss Kemble for the first time. It is two or three years since I have
been in a theatre, once my delight.

_June_ 17.--Went last night to theatre, and saw Miss Fanny Kemble's
Isabella,[374] which was a most creditable performance. It has much of
the genius of Mrs. Siddons, her aunt. She wants her beautiful
countenance, her fine form, and her matchless dignity of step and
manner. On the other hand, Miss Fanny Kemble has very expressive, though
not regular, features, and what is worth it all, great energy mingled
with and chastened by correct taste. I suffered by the heat, lights, and
exertion, and will not go back to-night, for it has purchased me a sore
headache this theatrical excursion. Besides, the play is Mrs.
Beverley,[375] and I hate to be made miserable about domestic distress,
so I keep my gracious presence at home to-night, though Ive and respect
Miss Kemble for giving her active support to her father in his need, and
preventing Covent Garden from coming down about their ears. I corrected
proofs before breakfast, attended Court, but was idle in the forenoon,
the headache annoying me much. Dinner will make me better. And so it
did. I wrote in the evening three pages, and tolerably well, though I
may say with the Emperor Titus (not Titus Oates) that I have lost a day.

_June_ 18, _[Blair-Adam]_.--Young John Colquhoun of Killermont and his
wife breakfasted with us,--a neat custom that, and saves wine and
wassail. Then to Court, and arranged for our departure for Blair-Adam,
it being near midsummer when the club meets. Anne with me, and Sir Adam
Ferguson. The day was execrable. Our meeting at Blair-Adam was cordial,
but our numbers diminished; the good and very clever Lord Chief
Baron[376] is returned to his own country, with more regrets than in
Scotland usually attend a stranger. Will Clerk has a bad cold, [Thomas]
Thomson is detained, but the Chief Commissioner, Admiral Adam, Sir Adam,
John Thomson and I, make an excellent concert. I only hope our venerable
host will not fatigue himself. To-morrow we go to Culross, which Sir
Robert Preston is repairing, and the wise are asking for whose future
enjoyment. He is upwards of ninety, but still may enjoy the bustle of
life.

_June_ 19.--Arose and expected to work a little, but a friend's house is
not favourable; you are sure to want the book you have not brought, and
are in short out of sorts, like the minister who could not preach out of
his own pulpit. There is something fanciful in this, and something real
too, and I have forgot my watch and left half my glasses at home.

Off we set at half-past eight o'clock, Lord Chief Commissioner being
left at home owing to a cold. We breakfasted at Luscar, a place
belonging to Adam Rolland, but the gout had arrested him at Edinburgh,
so we were hospitably received by his family. The weather most
unpropitious, very cold and rainy. After breakfast to Culross, where the
veteran, Sir Robert Preston,[377] showed us his curiosities. Life has
done as much for him as most people. In his ninety-second year he has
an ample fortune, a sound understanding, not the least decay of eyes,
ears, or taste; is as big as two men, and eats like three. Yet he too
experiences the _singula prædantur anni_, and has lost something since I
last saw him. If his appearance renders old age tolerable, it does not
make it desirable. But I fear when death comes we shall be unwilling for
all that to part with our bundle of sticks. Sir Robert amuses himself
with repairing the old House of Culross, built by the Lord Bruce of
Kinloss. To what use it is destined is not very evident to me. It is too
near his own comfortable mansion of Valleyfield to be useful as a
residence, if indeed it could be formed into a comfortable modern house.
But it is rather like a banqueting house. Well, he follows his own
fancy. We had a sumptuous cold dinner. Adam grieves it was not hot, so
little can war and want break a man to circumstances. We returned to
Blair-Adam in the evening, through "the wind but and the rain." For June
weather it is the most ungenial I have seen. The beauty of Culross
consists in magnificent terraces rising on the sea-beach, and commanding
the opposite shore of Lothian; the house is repairing in the style of
James the Sixth. The windows have pediments like Heriot's Work.[378]
There are some fine relics of the old Monastery, with large Saxon
arches. At Luscar I saw with pleasure the painting by Raeburn, of my old
friend Adam Rolland, Esq.,[379] who was in the external circumstances,
but not in frolic or fancy, my prototype for Paul Pleydell.[380]

_June_ 20.--We settled this morning to go to church at Lochore, that is,
at Ballingray; but when we came to the earthly paradise so called, we
were let off for there was no sermon, for which I could not in my heart
be sorry. So, after looking at Lochore, back we came to lounge and
loiter about till dinner-time. The rest of the day was good company,
good cheer, and good conversation. Yet to be idle here is not the thing,
and to be busy is impossible, so I wish myself home again in spite of
good entertainment. We leave to-night after an early dinner, and I will
get to work again.

_June_ 21, [_Edinburgh_].--Wrote to Walter a long letter. The day
continued dropping occasionally, but Sir Adam was in high fooling, and
we had an amazing deal of laughing. We stole a look at the Kiery Craigs
between showers. In the meantime George Cheape and his son came in. We
dined at half-past three, but it was seven ere we set off, and did not
reach the house in Shandwick Place till eleven at night. Thus ended our
Club for the year 1830, its thirteenth anniversary. Its numbers were
diminished by absence and indisposition, but its spirit was unabated.

_June_ 22.--Finished proofs and some copy in the morning. Returned at
noon, and might have laboured a good day's work, but was dull, drowsy,
and indolent, and could not, at least did not, write above half a page.
It was a day lost, and indeed it is always with me the consequence of
mental indolence for a day or two, so I had a succession of eating and
dozing, which I am ashamed of, for there was nothing to hinder me but
"thick-coming fancies." Pshaw, rabbit un!

_June_ 23.--Worked well this morning, and then to Court. At two called
on Mr. Gibson, and find him disposed for an instalment. Cadell has
£10,000, and Gibson thinks £12,000 will pay 2s. 6d. I wish it could be
made three shillings, which would be £15,000.

Presided at a meeting of the Bannatyne Club. The Whigs made a strong
party to admit Kennedy of Dunure, which set aside Lord Medwyn, who had
been longer on the roll of candidates. If politics get into this Club it
will ruin the literary purpose of the meeting, and the general
good-humour with which it has gone on. I think it better to take the
thing good-humouredly, and several of them volunteered to say that
Medwyn must be the next, which will finish all _à l'aimable_. If it come
to party-work I will cut and run. Confound it! my eyes are closing now,
even _now_, at half-past four.

Dined with Lord Medwyn, a pleasant party. The guest of importance, Mrs.
Peter Latouche from Dublin, a fine old dame, who must have been
beautiful when young, being pleasant and comely at seventy,--saintly it
appears.

_June_ 24.--Hard work with Ballantyne's proofs and revises, but got them
accomplished. I am at the twelfth hour, but I think I shall finish this
silly book before the tenth of July.

Notwithstanding this sage resolution I did not write half a page of the
said _Demonology_ this day. I went to the Court, called on Mr. Cadell,
returned dog-tired, and trifled my time with reading the trial of
Corder. What seemed most singular was his love to talk of the young
woman he had murdered, in such a manner as to insinuate the
circumstances of his own crime, which is a kind of necessity which seems
to haunt conscience-struck men. Charles Sharpe came in at night and
supped with us.

_June_ 25.--Slept little later than I should. The proofs occupied the
morning. The Court and walk home detained me till two. When I returned,
set to work and reached page 210 of copy. There is little or nothing
else to say. Skene was with me for a few minutes. I called at Cadell's
also, who thinks a dividend of 3s. per pound will be made out.[381] This
will be one-half of the whole debts, and leave a sinking fund for the
rest about £10,000 a year "if the beast live and the branks bide
hale."[382]

_June_ 26.--Miss Kemble and her father breakfasted here, with Sir Adam
and Lady Ferguson. I like the young lady very much, respecting both her
talents and the use she has made of them. She seems merry, unaffected,
and good-humoured. She said she did not like the apathy of the Scottish
audiences, who are certain not to give applause upon credit. I went to
the Court, but soon returned; a bad cold in my head makes me cough and
sneeze like the Dragon of Wantley. The Advocates' Bill[383] is read a
third time. I hardly know whether to wish it passed or no, and am
therefore _in utrumque paratus_.

_June_ 27.--In the morning worked as usual at proofs and copy of my
infernal _Demonology_--a task to which my poverty and not my will
consents. About twelve o'clock I went to the country to take a day's
relaxation. We (i.e. Mr. Cadell, James Ballantyne, and I) went to
Prestonpans, and, getting there about one, surveyed the little village,
where my aunt and I were lodgers for the sake of sea-bathing in 1778, I
believe. I knew the house of Mr. Warroch, where we lived,--a poor
cottage, of which the owners and their family are extinct. I recollected
my juvenile ideas of dignity attendant on the large gate, a black arch
which lets out upon the sea. I saw the church where I yawned under the
inflictions of a Dr. M'Cormick, a name in which dulness seems to have
been hereditary. I saw the Links where I arranged my shells upon the
turf, and swam my little skiffs in the pools. Many comparisons between
the man, and the recollections of my kind aunt, of old George Constable,
who, I think, dangled after her; of Dalgetty, a veteran half-pay
lieutenant, who swaggered his solitary walk on the parade, as he called
a little open space before the same pool. We went to Preston, and took
refuge from a thunder-plump in the old tower. I remembered the little
garden where I was crammed with gooseberries, and the fear I had of
Blind Harry's spectre of Fawdon showing his headless trunk at one of
the windows. I remembered also a very good-natured pretty girl (my Mary
Duff), whom I laughed and romped with and loved as children love. She
was a Miss Dalrymple, daughter of Lord Westhall,[384] a Lord of Session;
was afterwards married to Anderson of Winterfield, and her daughter is
now [the spouse] of my colleague Robert Hamilton. So strangely are our
cards shuffled. I was a mere child, and could feel none of the passion
which Byron alleges, yet the recollection of this good-humoured
companion of my childhood is like that of a morning dream, nor should I
now greatly like to dispel it by seeing the original, who must now be
sufficiently time-honoured.

Well, we walked over the field of battle, saw the Prince's Park, Cope's
Loan, marked by slaughter in his disastrous retreat, the thorn-tree
which marks the centre of the battle, and all besides that was to be
seen or supposed. We saw two broadswords, found on the field of battle,
one a Highlander's, an Andrew Ferrara, another the dragoon's sword of
that day. Lastly, we came to Cockenzie, where Mr. Francis Cadell, my
publisher's brother, gave us a kind reception. I was especially glad to
see the mother of the family, a fine old lady, who was civil to my aunt
and me, and, I recollect well, used to have us to tea at Cockenzie.
Curious that I should long afterwards have an opportunity to pay back
this attention to her son Robert. Once more, what a kind of shuffling of
the hand dealt us at our nativity. There was Mrs. F. Cadell, and one or
two young ladies, and some fine fat children. I should be a bastard to
the time[385] did I not tell our fare. We had a _tiled_ whiting,[386] a
dish unknown elsewhere, so there is a bone for the gastronomers to pick.
Honest John Wood,[387] my old friend, dined with us. I only regret I
cannot understand him, as he has a very powerful memory, and much
curious information. The whole day of pleasure was damped by the news of
the King's death; it was fully expected, however, as the termination of
his long illness. But he was very good to me personally, and a kind
sovereign. The common people and gentry join in their sorrow. Much is
owing to a kindly recollection of his visit to this country, which gave
all men an interest in him.

_June_ 29.--The business of the Court was suspended, so back I came,
without stop or stay, and to work went I. As I had risen early I was
sadly drowsy; however, I fought and fagged away the day. I am still in
hope to send my whole manuscript to Ballantyne before the 10th July.
Well, I must devise something to myself; I must do something better than
this Demonological trash. It is nine o'clock, and I am weary, yea, my
very spirit's tired.[388] After ten o'clock Mr. Daveis,[389] an American
barrister of eminence, deputed to represent the American States in a
dispute concerning the boundaries of Nova Scotia and New England, with
an introduction to me from Mr. Ticknor, called. I was unable to see him,
and put him off till to-morrow morning at breakfast.

_June_ 30.--The new King was proclaimed, and the College of Justice took
the oaths. I assisted Mr. Daveis, who is a pleasant and well-informed
man, to see the ceremony, which, probably, he would hardly witness in
his own country. A day of noise and bustle. We dined at Mr. and Mrs.
Strange, _chère exquise_ I suppose. Many friends of the Arniston family.
I thought there was some belief of Lord Melville losing his place. That
he may exchange it for another is very likely, but I think the Duke will
not desert him who adhered to him so truly.

FOOTNOTES:

[365] Mr. John Dickinson of Nash Mill, Herts, the eminent
papermaker.--J.G.L. _Ante_, p. 31.

[366] Burns's _Tam o' Shanter_.

[367] See Johnson's _Musical Museum_ Illustrations, Pt. v. No. 454.

[368] _Henry V._ Act II. Sc. 1.

[369] Daughter of his old friend, Mrs. Maclean Clephane of Torloisk.

[370] "Little Walter," Thomas Scott's son, who went to India in 1826,
_ante_, vol. i. p. 103. He became a General in the Indian Army, and died
in 1873.

[371] _Æneid_ VI. 617.

[372] Emanuel de Fellenburg, who died in 1844.

[373] "The History of Scotland from the Earliest Period to the Middle of
the Ninth Century," by the Rev. Alex. Low. 8vo, Edinburgh, 1826.--See
_Misc. Prose Works_, vol. xx. pp. 374-6.

[374] Southerne's _Fatal Marriage_.

[375] In the _Gamester_ by Moore.

[376] Sir Samuel Shepherd.--See _ante_, vol. i. p. 51 _n_.

[377] Sir Robert Preston, Bart., died in May 1834, aged ninety-five.---
J.G.L.

[378] Heriot's Hospital, Edinburgh.

[379] See _ante_, p. 279 note, and for sketch of Adam Rolland of Gask,
Cockburn's _Memorials_, pp. 360-3.

[380] The "frolic and fancy" of Councillor Pleydell were commonly
supposed to have been found in Andrew Crosbie, Advocate, but as Crosbie
died when Scott was only fourteen, and had retired from the bar for some
years, the latter could scarcely have known him personally. See p. 281
_n_.

[381] A second dividend of 3s. was declared on December 17, 1830.

[382] An old Galloway proverb. _Branks_, "a sort of bridle used by
country people in riding."--_Jamieson_. Burns in a Scotch letter to
Nicol of June 1, 1787, says, "I'll be in Dumfries the morn gif the beast
be to the fore and the branks bide hale."--Cromek's _Reliques_, p. 29.

[383] Relating to the changes in the Court of Session.

[384] David Dalrymple of Westhall was a judge of the Court of Session
from 1777 till his death in 1784.

[385] _King John_, Act I. Sc. 1.

[386] A whiting dried in the sun; but "tiled haddocks" and "tiled
whitings" are now unknown to the fisher-folk of Cockenzie.

[387] John Philip Wood, editor of _Douglas's Peerage of Scotland_, etc.,
was deaf and dumb; he died in 1838 in his seventy-fourth year.

[388] _Coriolanus_, Act I. Sc. 9.

[389] Charles S. Daveis of Portland, a friend of Mr. George Ticknor, in
whose Life (2 vols. 8vo, Boston, 1876) he is often mentioned.




JULY.


_July_ 1.--Mr. Daveis breakfasted with me. On nearer acquaintance, I was
more galled by some portion of continental manners than I had been at
first, so difficult is it for an American to correct his manner to our
ideas of perfect good-breeding.[390] I did all that was right, however,
and asked Miss Ferrier, whom he admires prodigiously, to meet him at
dinner. Hither came also a young friend, so I have done the polite thing
every way. Thomson also dined with us. After dinner I gave my strangers
an airing round the Corstorphine hills, and returned by the Cramond
road. I sent to Mr. Gibson, Cadell's project for Lammas, which raises
£15,000 for a dividend of 3s. to be then made. I think the trustees
should listen to this, which is paying one-half of my debt.

_July_ 2.--Have assurances from John Gibson that £15,000 should be
applied as I proposed. If this can be repeated yearly up to 1835 the
matter is ended, and well ended; yet, woe's me! the public change their
taste, and their favourites get old. Yet if I was born in 1771, I shall
only be sixty in 1831, and, by the same reasoning, sixty-four in 1835,
so I may rough it out, yet be no Sir Robert Preston. At any rate, it is
all I have to trust to.

I did a morning's task, and was detained late at the Court; came home,
ate a hearty dinner, slumbered after it in spite of my teeth, and made
a poor night's work of it. One's mind gets so dissipated by the fagging,
yet insignificant, business of the offices; my release comes soon, but I
fear for a term only, for I doubt if they will carry through the Court
Bill.

_July_ 3.--My day began at seven as usual. Sir Adam came to breakfast. I
read Southey's edition of the _Pilgrim's Progress,_ and think of
reviewing the same. I would I had books at hand. To the Court, and
remained till two; then went to look at the drawings for repairing
Murthly, the house of Sir John or James Stewart, now building by
Gillespie Graham, and which he has planned after the fashion of James
VI.'s reign, a kind of bastard Grecian[391]--very fanciful and pretty
though. Read Hone's _Every-day Book_, and with a better opinion of him
than I expected from his anti-religious frenzy. We are to dine with the
Skenes to-day.

Which we did accordingly, meeting Mr. and Mrs. Strange, Lord Forbes, and
other friends.

_July_ 4.--Was a complete and serious day of work, only interrupted in
the evening by----, who, with all the freedom and ease of continental
manners, gratified me with his gratuitous presence. Yet it might have
been worse, for his conversation is well enough, but it is strange want
of tact to suppose one must be alike welcome to a stranger at all hours
of the day; but I have stuffed the portfolio, so do not grudge
half-an-hour.

_July_ 5.--I was up before seven and resumed my labours, and by
breakfast-time I had reached p. 133; it may reach to 160 or 170 as I
find space and matter. Buchanan[392] came and wrote about fifteen of his
pages, equal to mine in proportion of three to one. We are therefore
about p. 138, and in sight of land. At two o'clock went to bury poor
George Burnet, the son of Gilbert Innes, in as heavy a rain as I ever
saw. Was in Shandwick Place again by four and made these entries. I
dine to-day with the Club; grant Heaven it fair before six o'clock!