Chapter LI

Visit to London. -- Project of the Royal Society of Literature.
-- Affairs of the 18th Hussars. -- Marriage of Captain Adam
Ferguson. -- Letters to Lord Sidmouth, Lord Montagu, Allan
Cunningham, Mrs. Lockhart, and Cornet Scott.

1821

Before the end of January, 1821, Scott went to London at the request of the other Clerks of Session, that he might watch over the progress of an Act of Parliament, designed to relieve them from a considerable part of their drudgery, in attesting recorded deeds by signature;--and his stay was prolonged until near the beginning of the Summer term of his Court. His letters while in London are mostly to his own family, and on strictly domestic topics; but I shall extract a few of them, chiefly (for reasons which I have already sufficiently intimated) those addressed to his son the Cornet. I need not trespass on the reader's attention by any attempt to explain in detail the matters to which these letters refer. It will be seen that Sir Walter had heard some rumors of irregularity in the interior of the 18th Hussars; and that the consequent interference of the then Commander of the Forces in Ireland, the late Sir David Baird, had been received in anything but a spirit of humility. The reports that reached Scott proved to have been most absurdly exaggerated; but nevertheless his observations on them seem well worth quoting. It so happened that the 18th was one of several regiments about to be reduced at this time; and as soon as that event took place, Cornet Scott was sent to travel in Germany, with a view to his improvement in the science of his profession. He afterwards spent a brief period, for the same purpose, in the Royal Military College of Sandhurst; and erelong he obtained a commission as lieutenant in the 15th or King's Hussars, in which distinguished corps his father lived to see him Major.

It will also be seen, that during this visit to London Sir Walter was released from considerable anxiety on account of his daughter Sophia, whom he had left in a weak state of health at Edinburgh, by the intelligence of her safe accouchement of a boy,--John Hugh Lockhart, the "Hugh Littlejohn" of the Tales of a Grandfather. The approaching marriage of Captain, now Sir Adam Ferguson, to which some jocular allusions occur, may be classed with these objects of family interest; and that event was the source of unmixed satisfaction to Scott, as it did not interrupt his enjoyment of his old friend's society in the country; for the Captain, though he then pitched a tent for himself, did so at a very short distance from Huntly Burn. I believe the ensuing extracts will need no further commentary.

TO MRS. LOCKHART, GREAT KING STREET, EDINBURGH.

DITTON PARK, February 18, 1821.

MY DEAREST SOPHIA,--I received as much pleasure, and was relieved
from as much anxiety, as ever I felt in my life, by Lockhart's
kind note, which acquainted me with the happy period that has
been put to your suffering, and, as I hope and trust, to the
complaints which occasioned it. You are now, my dearest girl,
beginning a new course of pleasures, anxieties, and duties, and
the best I can wish for you is, that your little boy may prove
the same dutiful and affectionate child which you have always
been to me, and that God may give him a sound and healthy mind,
with a good constitution of body--the greatest blessings which
this earth can bestow. Pray be extremely careful of yourself for
some time. Young women are apt to injure their health by thinking
themselves well too soon. I beg you to be cautious in this
respect.

The news of the young stranger's arrival was most joyfully
received here, and his health and yours toasted in a bumper. Lady
Anne is quite well, and Isabella also; and Lady Charlotte, who
has rejoined them, is a most beautiful creature indeed. This
place is all light and splendor, compared to London, where I was
forced to use candles till ten o'clock at least. I have a gay
time of it. To-morrow I return to town, and dine with old
Sotheby; on Tuesday with the Duke of Wellington; Wednesday with
Croker, and so on. Love to L., the Captain, and the Violet, and
give your bantling a kiss extraordinary for Grandpapa. I hope
Mungo[120] approves of the child, for that is a serious point.
There are no dogs in the hotel where I lodge, but a tolerably
conversible cat, who eats a mess of cream with me in the morning.
The little chief and his brother have come over from Eton to see
me, so I must break off.--I am, my dear love, most affectionately
yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 120: Mungo was a favorite Newfoundland dog.]

TO WALTER SCOTT, ESQ., PORTOBELLO BARRACKS, DUBLIN.

WATERLOO HOTEL, Jermyn Street,
February 19, 1821.

MY DEAR WALTER,--I have just received your letter. I send you a
draft for L50, which you must make go as far as you can.

There is what I have no doubt is a very idle report here, of your
paying rather marked attention to one young lady in particular. I
beg you would do nothing that can justify such a rumor, as it
would excite my _highest displeasure_ should you either entangle
yourself or any other person. I am, and have always been, quite
frank with you, and beg you will be equally so with me. One
should, in justice to the young women they live with, be very
cautious not to give the least countenance to such rumors. They
are not easily avoided, but are always highly prejudicial to the
parties concerned; and what begins in folly ends in serious
misery--_avis au lecteur._

Believe me, dear Cornet, your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

P. S.--I wish you could pick me up the Irish lilt of a tune to
"Patrick Fleming." The song begins,--

"Patrick Fleming was a gallant soldier,
He carried his musket over his shoulder.
When I cock my pistol, when I draw my raper,
I make them stand in awe of me, for I am a taker.
Falala," etc.

From another verse in the same song, it seems the hero was in
such a predicament as your own:--

"If you be Peter Fleming, as I suppose you be, sir,
We are three pedlars walking on so free, sir.
We are three pedlars a-walking on to Dublin,
With nothing in our pockets to pay for our lodging.
Falala," etc.

TO WALTER SCOTT, ESQ., 18TH HUSSARS, CAPPOQUIN.

LONDON, 17th March, 1821.

MY DEAR COMMANDANT OF CAPPOQUIN,--Wishing you joy of your new
government, these are to inform you that I am still in London.
The late aspersion on your regiment induced me to protract my
stay here, with a view to see the Duke of York on your behalf,
which I did yesterday. His Royal Highness expressed himself most
obligingly disposed, and promised to consider what could best be
done to forward your military education. I told him frankly, that
in giving you to the King's service I had done all that was in my
power to show our attachment to his Majesty and the country which
had been so kind to me, and that it was my utmost ambition that
you should render yourself capable of serving them both well. He
said he would give the affair his particular consideration, and
see whether he could put you on the establishment at Sandhurst,
without any violent infringement on the rules; and hinted that he
would make an exception to the rule of seniority of standing and
priority of application in your favor when an opportunity occurs.

From H. R. H.'s very kind expressions, I have little doubt you
will have more than justice done you in the patronage necessary
to facilitate your course through life; but it must be by your
own exertions, my dearest boy, that you must render yourself
qualified to avail yourself of the opportunities which you may
have offered to you. Work, therefore, as hard as you can, and do
not be discontented for want of assistance of masters, etc.,
because the knowledge which we acquire by our own unaided
efforts, is much more tenaciously retained by the memory, while
the exertion necessary to gain it strengthens the understanding.
At the same time, I would inquire whether there may not be some
Catholic priest, or Protestant clergyman, or scholar of any
description, who, for love or money, would give you a little
assistance occasionally. Such persons are to be found almost
everywhere; not professed teachers, but capable of smoothing the
road to a willing student. Let me earnestly recommend in your
reading to keep fast to particular hours, and suffer no one thing
to encroach on the other.

Charles's last letter was uncommonly steady, and prepared me for
one from Mr. Williams, in which he expresses satisfaction with
his attention, and with his progress in learning, in a much
stronger degree than formerly. This is truly comfortable, and may
relieve me from the necessity of sending the poor boy to India.

All in Edinburgh are quite well, and no fears exist, saving those
of little Catherine[121] for the baby, lest the fairies take it
away before the christening. I will send some books to you from
hence, if I can find means to transmit them. I should like you to
read with care the campaigns of Buonaparte, which have been
written in French with much science.[122]

I hope, indeed I am sure, I need not remind you to be very
attentive to your duty. You have but a small charge, but it is a
charge, and rashness or carelessness may lead to discredit in the
commandant of Cappoquin, as well as in a field-marshal. In the
exercise of your duty, be tender of the lower classes; and as you
are strong, be merciful. In this you will do your master good
service, for show me the manners of the man, and I will judge
those of the master.

In your present situation, it may be interesting to you to know
that the bill for Catholic Emancipation will pass the Commons
without doubt, and very probably the Peers also, unless the
Spiritual Lords make a great rally. Nobody here cares much about
it, and if it does not pass this year, it will the next, without
doubt.

Among other improvements, I wish you would amend your hand. It is
a deplorable scratch, and far the worst of the family. Charles
writes a firm good hand in comparison.

You may address your next to Abbotsford, where I long to be,
being heartily tired of fine company and fine living, from dukes
and duchesses, down to turbot and plovers' eggs. It is very well
for a while, but to be kept at it makes one feel like a poodle
dog compelled to stand forever on his hind legs.--Most
affectionately yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 121: Mrs. Lockhart's maid.]

[Footnote 122: This letter was followed by a copy of General Jomini's celebrated work.]

During this visit to London, Sir Walter appears to have been consulted by several persons in authority as to the project of a Society of Literature, for which the King's patronage had been solicited, and which was established soon afterwards--though on a scale less extensive than had been proposed at the outset. He expressed his views on this subject in writing at considerable length to his friend the Hon. John Villiers (afterwards Earl of Clarendon);[123] but of that letter, described to me as a most admirable one, I have as yet failed to recover a copy. I have little doubt that both the letter in question, and the following, addressed, soon after his arrival at Abbotsford, to the then Secretary of State for the Home Department, were placed in the hands of the King; but it seems probable, that whatever his Majesty may have thought of Scott's representations, he considered himself as already, in some measure, pledged to countenance the projected academy.

[Footnote 123: The third Earl (of the Villierses) died in 1838.]

TO THE RIGHT HON. THE LORD VISCOUNT SIDMOUTH, ETC., ETC., ETC., WHITEHALL.

ABBOTSFORD, April 20, 1821.

MY DEAR LORD,--Owing to my retreat to this place, I was only
honored with your Lordship's letter yesterday. Whatever use can
be made of my letter to stop the very ill-contrived project to
which it relates, will answer the purpose for which it was
written. I do not well remember the terms in which my
remonstrance to Mr. Villiers was couched, for it was positively
written betwixt sleeping and waking; but your Lordship will best
judge how far the contents may be proper for his Majesty's eye;
and if the sentiments appear a little in dishabille, there is the
true apology that they were never intended to go to Court. From
more than twenty years' intercourse with the literary world,
during which I have been more or less acquainted with every
distinguished writer of my day, and, at the same time, an
accurate student of the habits and tastes of the reading public,
I am enabled to say, with a feeling next to certainty, that the
plan can only end in something very unpleasant. At all events,
his Majesty should get out of it; it is nonsense to say or
suppose that any steps have been taken which, in such a matter,
can or ought to be considered as irrevocable. The fact is, that
nobody knows as yet how far the matter has gone beyond the
_projet_ of some well-meaning but misjudging persons, and the
whole thing is asleep and forgotten so far as the public is
concerned. The Spanish proverb says, "God help me from my
friends, and I will keep myself from my enemies;" and there is
much sense in it; for the zeal of misjudging adherents often
contrives, as in the present case, to turn to matter of reproach
the noblest feelings on the part of a sovereign.

Let men of letters fight their own way with the public, and let
his Majesty, according as his own excellent taste and liberality
dictate, honor with his patronage, expressed in the manner fitted
to their studies and habits, those who are able to distinguish
themselves, and alleviate by his bounty the distresses of such
as, with acknowledged merit, may yet have been unfortunate in
procuring independence. The immediate and direct favor of the
Sovereign is worth the patronage of ten thousand societies. But
your Lordship knows how to set all this in a better light than I
can, and I would not wish the cause of letters in better hands.

I am now in a scene changed as completely as possible from those
in which I had the great pleasure of meeting your Lordship
lately, riding through the moors on a pony, instead of traversing
the streets in a carriage, and drinking whiskey-toddy with mine
honest neighbors, instead of Champagne and Burgundy. I have
gained, however, in point of exact political information; for I
find we know upon Tweedside with much greater accuracy what is
done and intended in the Cabinet, than ever I could learn when
living with the Ministers five days in the week. Mine honest
Teviotdale friends, whom I left in a high Queen-fever, are now
beginning to be somewhat ashamed of themselves, and to make as
great advances towards retracting their opinion as they are ever
known to do, which amounts to this: "God judge me, Sir W----, the
King's no been so dooms far wrong after a' in yon Queen's job
like;" which, being interpreted, signifies, "We will fight for
the King to the death." I do not know how it was in other places;
but I never saw so sudden and violent a delusion possess the
minds of men in my life, even those of sensible, steady,
well-intentioned fellows, that would fight knee-deep against the
Radicals. It is well over, thank God.

My best compliments attend the ladies. I ever am, my dear Lord,
your truly obliged and faithful humble servant,

WALTER SCOTT.

I have thought it right to insert the preceding letter, because it indicates with sufficient distinctness what Scott's opinions always were as to a subject on which, from his experience and position, he must have reflected very seriously. In how far the results of the establishment of the Royal Society of Literature have tended to confirm or to weaken the weight of his authority on these matters, I do not presume to have formed any judgment. He received, about the same time, a volume of poetry by Allan Cunningham, which included the drama of Sir Marmaduke Maxwell; and I am happy to quote his letter of acknowledgment to that high-spirited and independent author in the same page with the foregoing monition to the dispensers of patronage.

TO MR. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, ECCLESTONE STREET, PIMLICO.

ABBOTSFORD, 27th April.

DEAR ALLAN,--Accept my kind thanks for your little modest volume,
received two days since. I was acquainted with most of the
pieces, and yet I perused them all with renewed pleasure, and
especially my old friend Sir Marmaduke with his new face, and by
the assistance of an April sun, which is at length, after many a
rough blast, beginning to smile on us. The drama has, in my
conception, more poetical conception and poetical expression in
it, than most of our modern compositions. Perhaps, indeed, it
occasionally sins even in the richness of poetical expression;
for the language of passion, though bold and figurative, is brief
and concise at the same time. But what would, in acting, be a
more serious objection, is the complicated nature of the plot,
which is very obscure. I hope you will make another dramatic
attempt; and, in that case, I would strongly recommend that you
should previously make a model or skeleton of your incidents,
dividing them regularly into scenes and acts, so as to insure the
dependence of one circumstance upon another, and the simplicity
and union of your whole story. The common class of readers, and
more especially of spectators, are thick-skulled enough, and can
hardly comprehend what they see and hear, unless they are hemmed
in, and guided to the sense at every turn.

The unities of time and place have always appeared to me
fopperies, as far as they require close observance of the French
rules. Still, the nearer you can come to them, it is always, no
doubt, the better, because your action will be more probable. But
the unity of action--I mean that continuity which unites every
scene with the other, and makes the catastrophe the natural and
probable result of all that has gone before--seems to me a
critical rule which cannot safely be dispensed with. Without such
a regular deduction of incidents, men's attention becomes
distracted, and the most beautiful language, if at all listened
to, creates no interest, and is out of place. I would give, as an
example, the suddenly entertained and as suddenly abandoned
jealousy of Sir Marmaduke (p. 85), as a useless excrescence in
the action of the drama.

I am very much unaccustomed to offer criticism, and when I do so,
it is because I believe in my soul that I am endeavoring to pluck
away the weeds which hide flowers well worthy of cultivation. In
your case, the richness of your language, and fertility of your
imagination, are the snares against which I would warn you. If
the one had been poor, and the other costive, I would never have
made remarks which could never do good, while they only gave
pain. Did you ever read Savage's beautiful poem of The Wanderer?
If not, do so, and you will see the fault which, I think,
attaches to Lord Maxwell--a want of distinct precision and
intelligibility about the story, which counteracts, especially
with ordinary readers, the effect of beautiful and forcible
diction, poetical imagery, and animated description.

All this freedom you will excuse, I know, on the part of one who
has the truest respect for the manly independence of character
which rests for its support on honest industry, instead of
indulging the foolish fastidiousness formerly supposed to be
essential to the poetical temperament, and which has induced some
men of real talents to become coxcombs--some to become sots--some
to plunge themselves into want--others into the equal miseries of
dependence, merely because, forsooth, they were men of genius,
and wise above the ordinary, and, I say, the manly duties of
human life.

"I'd rather be a kitten, and cry, Mew!"[124]

than write the best poetry in the world on condition of laying
aside common sense in the ordinary transactions and business of
the world; and therefore, dear Allan, I wish much the better to
the Muse whom you meet by the fireside in your hours of leisure
when you have played your part manfully through a day of labor. I
should like to see her making those hours also a little
profitable. Perhaps something of the dramatic romance, if you
could hit on a good subject, and combine the scenes well, might
answer. A beautiful thing with appropriate music, scenes, etc.,
might be woven out of the Mermaid of Galloway.

When there is any chance of Mr. Chantrey coming this way, I hope
you will let me know; and if you come with him, so much the
better. I like him as much for his manners as for his genius.

"He is a man without a clagg;
His heart is frank without a flaw."

This is a horrible long letter for so vile a correspondent as I
am. Once more, my best thanks for the little volume, and believe
me yours truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 124: _1st King Henry IV._ Act III. Scene 1.]

I now return to Sir Walter's correspondence with the Cornet at Cappoquin.

TO WALTER SCOTT, ESQ., 18TH HUSSARS.

ABBOTSFORD, April 21, 1821.

MY DEAR WALTER,--...A democrat in any situation is but a silly
sort of fellow, but a democratical soldier is worse than an
ordinary traitor by ten thousand degrees, as he forgets his
military honor, and is faithless to the master whose bread he
eats. Three distinguished heroes of this class have arisen in my
time--Lord Edward Fitzgerald, Colonel Despard, and Captain
Thistlewood--and, with the contempt and abhorrence of all men,
they died the death of infamy and guilt. If a man of honor is
unhappy enough to entertain opinions inconsistent with the
service in which he finds himself, it is his duty at once to
resign his commission; in acting otherwise, he disgraces himself
forever.... The reports are very strange, also, with respect to
the private conduct of certain officers.... Gentlemen maintain
their characters even in following their most licentious
pleasures, otherwise they resemble the very scavengers in the
streets.... I had written you a long letter on other subjects,
but these circumstances have altered my plans, as well as given
me great uneasiness on account of the effects which the society
you have been keeping may have had on your principles, both
political and moral. Be very frank with me on this subject. I
have a title to expect perfect sincerity, having always treated
you with openness on my part.

Pray write immediately, and at length.--I remain your
affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO THE SAME.

ABBOTSFORD, April 28, 1821.

DEAR WALTER,--... The great point in the mean while is to acquire
such preliminary information as may render you qualified to
profit by Sandhurst when you get thither. Amongst my
acquaintance, the men of greatest information have been those who
seemed but indifferently situated for the acquisition of it, but
who exerted themselves in proportion to the infrequency of their
opportunities.

The noble Captain Ferguson was married on Monday last. I was
present at the bridal, and I assure you the like hath not been
seen since the days of Lesmahago. Like his prototype, the Captain
advanced in a jaunty military step, with a kind of leer on his
face that seemed to quiz the whole affair. You should write to
your brother sportsman and soldier, and wish the veteran joy of
his entrance into the band of Benedicts. Odd enough that I should
christen a grandchild and attend the wedding of a contemporary
within two days of each other. I have sent John of Skye with Tom,
and all the rabblement which they can collect, to play the pipes,
shout, and fire guns below the Captain's windows this morning;
and I am just going over to hover about on my pony, and witness
their reception. The happy pair returned to Huntly Burn on
Saturday; but yesterday being Sunday, we permitted them to enjoy
their pillows in quiet. This morning they must not expect to get
off so well. Pray write soon, and give me the history of your
still-huntings, etc.--Ever yours affectionately,

W. SCOTT.

TO CHARLES SCOTT, ESQ.

_Care of the Rev. Mr. Williams, Lampeter._

ABBOTSFORD, 9th May, 1821.

MY DEAR CHARLES,--I am glad to find, by your letter just
received, that you are reading Tacitus with some relish. His
style is rather quaint and enigmatical, which makes it difficult
to the student; but then his pages are filled with such admirable
apothegms and maxims of political wisdom, as infer the deepest
knowledge of human nature; and it is particularly necessary that
any one who may have views as a public speaker should be master
of his works, as there is neither ancient nor modern who affords
such a selection of admirable quotations. You should exercise
yourself frequently in trying to make translations of the
passages which most strike you, trying to invest the sense of
Tacitus in as good English as you can. This will answer the
double purpose of making yourself familiar with the Latin author,
and giving you the command of your own language, which no person
will ever have who does not study English composition in early
life.... I conclude somewhat abruptly, having trees to cut, and
saucy Tom watching me like a Calmuck with the axe in his hand.

Yours affectionately,

W. SCOTT.

TO WALTER SCOTT, ESQ., 18TH HUSSARS, CAPPOQUIN.

ABBOTSFORD, 10th May, 1821.

DEAR WALTER,--I wrote yesterday, but I am induced immediately to
answer your letter, because I think you expect from it an effect
upon my mind different from what it produces. A man may be
violent and outrageous in his liquor, but wine seldom makes a
gentleman a blackguard, or instigates a loyal man to utter
sedition. Wine unveils the passions and throws away restraint,
but it does not create habits or opinions which did not
previously exist in the mind. Besides, what sort of defence is
this of intemperance? I suppose if a private commits riot, or is
disobedient in his cups, his officers do not admit whiskey to be
an excuse. I have seen enough of that sort of society where
habitual indulgence drowned at last every distinction between
what is worthy and unworthy,--and I have seen young men with the
fairest prospects, turn out degraded miserable outcasts before
their life was half spent, merely from soaking and sotting, and
the bad habits these naturally lead to. You tell me *** and ***
frequent good society, and are well received in it; and I am very
glad to hear this is the case. But such stories as these will
soon occasion their seclusion from the _best_ company. There may
remain, indeed, a large enough circle, where ladies, who are
either desirous to fill their rooms or to marry their daughters,
will continue to receive any young man in a showy uniform,
however irregular in private life; but if these cannot be called
_bad_ company, they are certainly anything but _very good_, and
the facility of access makes the _entree_ of little consequence.

I mentioned in my last that you were to continue in the 18th
until the regiment went to India, and that I trusted you would
get the step within the twelve months that the corps yet remains
in Europe, which will make your exchange easier. But it is of far
more importance that you learn to command yourself, than that you
should be raised higher in commanding others. It gives me pain to
write to you in terms of censure, but _my duty_ must be done,
else I cannot expect you to do _yours_. All here are well, and
send love.--I am your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO THE SAME.

EDINBURGH, 15th May, 1821.

DEAR WALTER,--I have your letter of May 6th, to which it is
unnecessary to reply very particularly. I would only insinuate to
you that the _lawyers_ and _gossips_ of Edinburgh, whom your
military politeness handsomely classes together in writing to a
lawyer, know and care as little about the 18th as they do about
the 19th, 20th, or 21st, or any other regimental number which
does not happen for the time to be at Piershill, or in the
Castle. Do not fall into the error and pedantry of young military
men, who, living much together, are apt to think themselves and
their actions the subject of much talk and rumor among the public
at large.--I will transcribe Fielding's account of such a person,
whom he met with on his voyage to Lisbon, which will give two or
three hours' excellent amusement when you choose to peruse it:--

"In his conversation it is true there was something
military enough, as it consisted chiefly of oaths, and of
the great actions and wise sayings of Jack, Will, and Tom
of _ours_, a phrase eternally in his mouth, and he seemed
to conclude that it conveyed to all the officers such a
degree of public notoriety and importance that it entitled
him, like the head of a profession, or a first minister,
to be the subject of conversation amongst those who had
not the least personal acquaintance with him."

Avoid this silly narrowness of mind, my dear boy, which only
makes men be looked on in the world with ridicule and contempt.
Lawyer and gossip as I may be, I suppose you will allow I have
seen something of life in most of its varieties; as much at least
as if I had been, like you, eighteen months in a cavalry
regiment, or, like Beau Jackson in Roderick Random, had cruised
for half a year in the chops of the Channel. Now, I have never
remarked any one, be he soldier, or divine, or lawyer, that was
exclusively attached to the narrow habits of his own profession,
but what such person became a great twaddle in good society,
besides, what is of much more importance, becoming narrow-minded,
and ignorant of all general information.

That this letter may not be unacceptable in all its parts, I
enclose your allowance without stopping anything for the hackney.
Take notice, however, my dear Walter, that this is to last you
till midsummer.--We came from Abbotsford yesterday, and left all
well, excepting that Mr. Laidlaw lost his youngest child, an
infant, very unexpectedly. We found Sophia, Lockhart, and their
child in good health, and all send love.

I remain your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO WALTER SCOTT, ESQ., 18TH HUSSARS.

EDINBURGH, 26th May, 1821.

MY DEAR WALTER,--I see you are of the mind of the irritable
prophet Jonah, who persisted in maintaining "he did well to be
angry," even when disputing with Omnipotence. I am aware that Sir
David is considered as a severe and ill-tempered man; and I
remember a story that, when report came to Europe that Tippoo's
prisoners (of whom Baird was one) were chained together two and
two, his mother said, "God pity the poor lad that's chained to
_our Davie_." But though it may be very true that he may have
acted towards you with caprice and severity, yet you are always
to remember,--1st, That in becoming a soldier you have subjected
yourself to the caprice and severity of superior officers, and
have no comfort except in contemplating the prospect of
commanding others in your turn. In the mean while, you have in
most cases no remedy so useful as patience and submission. But,
_2dly_, As you seem disposed to admit that you yourselves have
been partly to blame, I submit to you, that in turning the
magnifying end of the telescope on Sir D.'s faults, and the
diminishing one on your own, you take the least useful mode of
considering the matter. By studying _his_ errors, you can acquire
no knowledge that will be useful to you till you become
Commander-in-Chief in Ireland,--whereas, by reflecting on _your
own_, Cornet Scott and his companions may reap some immediate
moral advantage. Your fine of a dozen of claret, upon any one who
shall introduce females into your mess in future, reminds me of
the rule of a country club, that whoever "behaved ungenteel"
should be fined in a pot of porter. Seriously, I think there was
bad taste in the style of the forfeiture.

I am well pleased with your map, which is very businesslike.
There was a great battle fought between the English and native
Irish near the Blackwater, in which the former were defeated, and
Bagenal the Knight-Marshal killed. Is there any remembrance of
this upon the spot? There is a clergyman in Lismore, Mr. John
Graham--originally, that is by descent, a Borderer. He lately
sent me a manuscript which I intend to publish, and I wrote to
him enclosing a cheque on Coutts. I wish you could ascertain if
he received my letter safe. You can call upon him with my
compliments. You need only say I was desirous to know if he had
received a letter from me lately. The manuscript was written by a
certain Mr. Gwynne, a Welsh loyalist in the great Civil War, and
afterwards an officer in the guards of Charles II. This will be
an object for a ride to you.[125]

I presided last night at the dinner of the Celtic Society, "all
plaided and plumed in their tartan array," and such jumping,
skipping, and screaming you never saw. Chief-Baron Shepherd dined
with us, and was very much pleased with the extreme enthusiasm of
the Gael when liberated from the thraldom of breeches. You were
voted a member by acclamation, which will cost me a tartan dress
for your long limbs when you come here. If the King takes
Scotland in coming or going to Ireland (as has been talked of), I
expect to get you leave to come over.--I remain your affectionate
father,

WALTER SCOTT.

P. S.--I beg you will not take it into your wise noddle that I
will act either hastily or unadvisedly in your matters. I have
been more successful in life than most people, and know well how
much success depends, first upon desert, and then on knowledge of
the _carte de pays_.

[Footnote 125: The Rev. John Graham is known as the author of a _History of the Siege of Londonderry, Annals of Ireland_, and various political tracts. Sir Walter Scott published _Gwynne's Memoirs_, with a Preface, etc., in 1822.]

The following letter begins with an allusion to a visit which Captain Ferguson, his bride, and his youngest sister, Miss Margaret Ferguson, had been paying at Ditton Park:--

TO THE LORD MONTAGU, ETC., ETC.

EDINBURGH, 21st May, 1821.

MY DEAR LORD,--I was much diverted with the account of Adam and
Eve's visit to Ditton, which, with its surrounding moat, might
make no bad emblem of Eden, but for the absence of snakes and
fiends. He is a very singular fellow; for, with all his humor and
knowledge of the world, he by nature is a remarkably shy and
modest man, and more afraid of the possibility of intrusion than
would occur to any one who only sees him in the full stream of
society. His sister Margaret is extremely like him in the turn of
thought and of humor, and he has two others who are as great
curiosities in their way. The eldest is a complete old maid, with
all the gravity and shyness of the character, but not a grain of
its bad humor or spleen; on the contrary, she is one of the
kindest and most motherly creatures in the world. The second,
Mary, was in her day a very pretty girl; but her person became
deformed, and she has the sharpness of features with which that
circumstance is sometimes attended. She rises very early in the
morning, and roams over all my wild land in the neighborhood,
wearing the most complicated pile of handkerchiefs of different
colors on her head, and a stick double her own height in her
hand, attended by two dogs, whose powers of yelping are truly
terrific. With such garb and accompaniments, she has very nearly
established the character in the neighborhood of being _something
no canny_--and the urchins of Melrose and Darnick are frightened
from gathering hazel-nuts and cutting wands in my cleugh, by the
fear of meeting _the daft lady_. With all this quizzicality, I do
not believe there ever existed a family with so much mutual
affection and such an overflow of benevolence to all around them,
from men and women down to hedge-sparrows and lame ass-colts,
more than one of which they have taken under their direct and
special protection.

I am sorry there should be occasion for caution in the case of
little Duke Walter, but it is most lucky that the necessity is
early and closely attended to. How many actual valetudinarians
have outlived all their robust contemporaries, and attained the
utmost verge of human life, without ever having enjoyed what is
usually called high health. This is taking the very worst view of
the case, and supposing the constitution habitually delicate. But
how often has the strongest and best confirmed health succeeded
to a delicate childhood--and such, I trust, will be the Duke's
case. I cannot help thinking that this temporary recess from Eton
may be made subservient to Walter's improvement in general
literature, and particularly in historical knowledge. The habit
of reading useful, and at the same time entertaining books of
history, is often acquired during the retirement which delicate
health in convalescence imposes on us. I remember we touched on
this point at Ditton; and I think again, that though classical
learning be the _Shibboleth_ by which we judge, generally
speaking, of the proficiency of the youthful scholar, yet, when
this has been too exclusively and pedantically impressed on his
mind as the one thing needful, he very often finds he has
entirely a new course of study to commence, just at the time when
life is opening all its busy or gay scenes before him, and when
study of any kind becomes irksome.

For this species of instruction I do not so much approve of tasks
and set hours for serious reading, as of the plan of endeavoring
to give a taste for history to the youths themselves, and
suffering them to gratify it in their own way, and at their own
time. For this reason I would not be very scrupulous what books
they began with, or whether they began at the middle or end. The
knowledge which we acquire of free will and by spontaneous
exertion, is like food eaten with appetite--it digests well, and
benefits the system ten times more than the double cramming of an
alderman. If a boy's attention can be drawn in conversation to
any interesting point of history, and the book is pointed out to
him where he will find the particulars conveyed in a lively
manner, he reads the passage with so much pleasure that he very
naturally recurs to the book at the first unoccupied moment, to
try if he cannot pick more amusement out of it; and when once a
lad gets the spirit of information, he goes on himself with
little trouble but that of selecting for him the best and most
agreeable books. I think Walter has naturally some turn for
history and historical anecdote, and would be disposed to read as
much as could be wished in that most useful line of
knowledge;--for in the eminent situation he is destined to by his
birth, acquaintance with the history and institutions of his
country, and her relative position with respect to others, is a
_sine qua non_ to his discharging its duties with propriety. All
this is extremely like prosing, so I will harp on that string no
longer.

Kind compliments to all at Ditton; you say nothing of your own
rheumatism. I am here for the session, unless the wind should
blow me south to see the coronation, and I think 800 miles rather
a long journey to see a show.

I am always, my dear Lord,

Yours very affectionately,

WALTER SCOTT.