Chapter XLVIII

Scott Revisits London. -- His Portrait by Lawrence, and Bust by
Chantrey. -- Anecdotes by Allan Cunningham. -- Letters to Mrs. Scott,
Laidlaw, Etc. -- His Baronetcy Gazetted. -- Marriage of his Daughter
Sophia. -- Letter to "The Baron of Galashiels." -- Visit of Prince
Gustavus Vasa at Abbotsford. -- Tenders of Honorary Degrees from
Oxford and Cambridge. -- Letter to Mr. Thomas Scott.

1820

At the rising of his Court on the 12th of March, Scott proceeded to London, for the purpose of receiving his baronetcy, which he had been prevented from doing in the spring of the preceding year by his own illness, and again at Christmas by accumulated family afflictions. On his arrival in town, his son, the Cornet, met him; and they both established themselves at Miss Dumergue's.

One of his first visitors was Sir Thomas Lawrence, who informed him that the King had resolved to adorn the great gallery, then in progress at Windsor Castle, with portraits by his hand of his Majesty's most distinguished contemporaries; all the reigning monarchs of Europe, and their chief ministers and generals, had already sat for this purpose: on the same walls the King desired to see exhibited those of his own subjects who had attained the highest honors of literature and science--and it was his pleasure that this series should commence with Walter Scott. The portrait was of course begun immediately, and the head was finished before Scott left town. Sir Thomas has caught and fixed with admirable skill one of the loftiest expressions of Scott's countenance at the proudest period of his life: to the perfect truth of the representation, every one who ever surprised him in the act of composition at his desk, will bear witness. The expression, however, was one with which many who had seen the man often were not familiar; and it was extremely unfortunate that Sir Thomas filled in the figure from a separate sketch after he had quitted London. When I first saw the head, I thought nothing could be better; but there was an evident change for the worse when the picture appeared in its finished state--for the rest of the person had been done on a different scale, and this neglect of proportion takes considerably from the majestic effect which the head itself, and especially the mighty pile of forehead, had in nature. I hope one day to see a good engraving of the head alone, as I first saw it floating on a dark sea of canvas.

Lawrence told me, several years afterwards, that, in his opinion, the two greatest men he had painted were the Duke of Wellington and Sir Walter Scott; "and it was odd," said he, "that they both chose usually the same hour for sitting--seven in the morning. They were both as patient sitters as I ever had. Scott, however, was, in my case at least, a very difficult subject. I had selected what struck me as his noblest look; but when he was in the chair before me, he talked away on all sorts of subjects in his usual style, so that it cost me great pains to bring him back to solemnity, when I had to attend to anything beyond the outline of a subordinate feature. I soon found that the surest recipe was to say something that would lead him to recite a bit of poetry. I used to introduce, by hook or by crook, a few lines of Campbell or Byron--he was sure to take up the passage where I left it, or _cap_ it by something better--and then, when he was, as Dryden says of one of his heroes,--

'Made up of three parts fire--so full of heaven
It sparkled at his eyes'--

then was my time--and I made the best use I could of it. The hardest day's work I had with him was once when *****[86] accompanied him to my painting room. ***** was in particularly gay spirits, and nothing would serve him but keeping both artist and sitter in a perpetual state of merriment by anecdote upon anecdote about poor Sheridan. The anecdotes were mostly in themselves black enough--but the style of the _conteur_ was irresistibly quaint and comical. When Scott came next, he said he was ashamed of himself for laughing so much as he listened to them; 'for truly,' quoth he, 'if the tithe was fact, ***** might have said to Sherry--as Lord Braxfield once said to an eloquent culprit at the Bar--"Ye 're a vera clever chiel', man, but ye wad be nane the waur o' a hanging."'"

[Footnote 86: A distinguished Whig friend.]

It was also during this visit to London that Scott sat to Mr. (now Sir Francis) Chantrey for that bust which alone preserves for posterity the cast of expression most fondly remembered by all who ever mingled in his domestic circle. Chantrey's request that Scott would sit to him was communicated through Mr. Allan Cunningham, then (as now) employed as Clerk of the Works in our great Sculptor's establishment. Mr. Cunningham, in his early days, when gaining his bread as a stonemason in Nithsdale, made a pilgrimage on foot into Edinburgh, for the sole purpose of seeing the author of Marmion as he passed along the street. He was now in possession of a celebrity of his own, and had mentioned to his patron his purpose of calling on Scott to thank him for some kind message he had received, through a common friend, on the subject of those Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, which first made his poetical talents known to the public. Chantrey embraced this opportunity of conveying to Scott his own long-cherished ambition of modelling his head; and Scott at once assented to the flattering proposal. "It was about nine in the morning," says Mr. Cunningham, "that I sent in my card to him at Miss Dumergue's in Piccadilly. It had not been gone a minute, when I heard a quick heavy step coming, and in he came, holding out both hands, as was his custom, and saying, as he pressed mine, 'Allan Cunningham, I am glad to see you.' I said something," continues Mr. C., "about the pleasure I felt in touching the hand that had charmed me so much. He moved his hand, and with one of his comic smiles, said, 'Ay--and a big brown hand it is.' I was a little abashed at first: Scott saw it, and soon put me at my ease; he had the power--I had almost called it the art, but art it was not--of winning one's heart and restoring one's confidence beyond any man I ever met." Then ensued a little conversation, in which Scott complimented Allan on his ballads, and urged him to try some work of more consequence, quoting Burns's words, "for dear auld Scotland's sake;" but being engaged to breakfast in a distant part of the town, he presently dismissed his visitor, promising to appear next day at an early hour, and submit himself to Mr. Chantrey's inspection.

_The Chantrey Bust_]

Chantrey's purpose had been the same as Lawrence's--to seize a poetical phasis of Scott's countenance; and he proceeded to model the head as looking upwards, gravely and solemnly. The talk that passed, meantime, had equally amused and gratified both, and fortunately, at parting, Chantrey requested that Scott would come and breakfast with him next morning before they recommenced operations in the studio. Scott accepted the invitation, and when he arrived again in Ecclestone Street, found two or three acquaintances assembled to meet him,--among others, his old friend Richard Heber. The breakfast was, as any party in Sir Francis Chantrey's house is sure to be, a gay and joyous one, and not having seen Heber in particular for several years, Scott's spirits were unusually excited by the presence of an intimate associate of his youthful days. I transcribe what follows from Mr. Cunningham's Memorandum:--

"Heber made many inquiries about old friends in Edinburgh, and
old books and old houses, and reminded the other of their early
socialities. 'Ay,' said Mr. Scott, 'I remember we once dined out
together, and sat so late that when we came away the night and
day were so neatly balanced, that we resolved to walk about till
sunrise. The moon was not down, however, and we took advantage of
her Ladyship's lantern, and climbed to the top of Arthur's Seat;
when we came down we had a rare appetite for breakfast.'--'I
remember it well,' said Heber; 'Edinburgh was a wild place in
those days,--it abounded in clubs--convivial clubs.'--'Yes,'
replied Mr. Scott, 'and abounds still; but the conversation is
calmer, and there are no such sallies now as might be heard in
other times. One club, I remember, was infested with two Kemps,
father and son; when the old man had done speaking, the young one
began,--and before he grew weary, the father was refreshed, and
took up the song. John Clerk, during a pause, was called on for a
stave; he immediately struck up, in a psalm-singing tone, and
electrified the club with a verse which sticks like a burr to my
memory,--

"Now, God Almighty judge James Kemp,
And likewise his son John,
And hang them over Hell in hemp,
And burn them in brimstone."'--

"In the midst of the mirth which this specimen of psalmody
raised, John (commonly called _Jack_) Fuller, the member for
Surrey, and standing jester of the House of Commons, came in.
Heber, who was well acquainted with the free and joyous character
of that worthy, began to lead him out by relating some festive
anecdotes: Fuller growled approbation, and indulged us with some
of his odd sallies; things which he assured us 'were damned good,
and true too, which was better.' Mr. Scott, who was standing when
Fuller came in, eyed him at first with a look grave and
considerate; but as the stream of conversation flowed, his keen
eye twinkled brighter and brighter; his stature increased, for he
drew himself up, and seemed to take the measure of the hoary
joker, body and soul. An hour or two of social chat had meanwhile
induced Mr. Chantrey to alter his views as to the bust, and when
Mr. Scott left us, he said to me privately, 'This will never
do--I shall never be able to please myself with a perfectly
serene expression. I must try his conversational look, take him
when about to break out into some sly funny old story.' As
Chantrey said this, he took a string, cut off the head of the
bust, put it into its present position, touched the eyes and the
mouth slightly, and wrought such a transformation upon it, that
when Scott came to his third sitting, he smiled and said,--'Ay,
ye're mair like yoursel now!--Why, Mr. Chantrey, no witch of old
ever performed such cantrips with clay as this.'"[87]

[Footnote 87: [Mr. C. R. Leslie, himself the painter of an admirable portrait of Scott, says of Chantrey's work:--

"Of the many portraits of him, Chantrey's bust is, to my mind, the most perfect; ... the gentle turn of the head, inclined a little forwards and down, and the lurking humor in the eye and about the mouth, are Scott's own. Chantrey watched Sir Walter in company, and invited him to breakfast previous to the sittings, and by these means caught the expression that was most characteristic."--_Leslie's Autobiographical Recollections._]]

These sittings were seven in number; but when Scott revisited London a year afterwards, he gave Chantrey several more, the bust being by that time in marble. Allan Cunningham, when he called to bid him farewell, as he was about to leave town on the present occasion, found him in court dress, preparing to kiss hands at the Levee, on being gazetted as Baronet. "He seemed anything but at his ease," says Cunningham, "in that strange attire; he was like one in armor--the stiff cut of the coat--the large shining buttons and buckles--the lace ruffles--the queue--the sword--and the cocked hat, formed a picture at which I could not forbear smiling. He surveyed himself in the glass for a moment, and burst into a hearty laugh. 'O Allan,' he said, 'O Allan, what creatures we must make of ourselves in obedience to Madam Etiquette! Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily she turns about all the hot bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty?'"[88]

[Footnote 88: _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act III. Scene 3.]

Scott's baronetcy was conferred on him, not in consequence of any Ministerial suggestion, but by the King personally, and of his own unsolicited motion; and when the poet kissed his hand, he said to him, "I shall always reflect with pleasure on Sir Walter Scott's having been the first creation of my reign."

The Gazette announcing his new dignity was dated March 30, and published on the 2d of April, 1820; and the Baronet, as soon afterwards as he could get away from Lawrence, set out on his return to the North; for he had such respect for the ancient prejudice (a classical as well as a Scottish one) against marrying in May, that he was anxious to have the ceremony in which his daughter was concerned over before that unlucky month should commence.[89] It is needless to say, that during this stay in London he had again experienced, in its fullest measure, the enthusiasm of all ranks of his acquaintance; and I shall now transcribe a few paragraphs from domestic letters, which will show, among other things, how glad he was when the hour came that restored him to his ordinary course of life.

[Footnote 89: [On March 15 Scott had written to Lady Abercorn: "Sophia is going to be married, and to a young man of uncommon talents,--indeed of as promising a character as I know. He is highly accomplished, a beautiful poet and fine draughtsman, and, what is better, of a most honorable and gentlemanlike disposition. He is handsome besides, and I like everything about him, except that he is more grave and retired than I (who have been all my life something of an _etourdi_) like particularly, but it is better than the opposite extreme. In point of situation they have enough to live upon, and 'the world for the winning.' ... Your Ladyship will see some beautiful lines of his writing in the last number of a very clever periodical publication called _Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine_. The verses are in an essay on the ballad poetry of the Spaniards, which he illustrates by some beautiful translations which--to speak truth--are much finer than the originals.... The youngster's name is John Gibson Lockhart; he comes of a good Lanarkshire family, and is very well connected. His father is a clergyman."

Two months later, in a letter to Morritt, Sir Walter says:--

"To me, as it seems neither of my sons have a strong literary turn, the society of a son-in-law possessed of learning and talent must be a very great acquisition, and relieve me from some anxiety with respect to a valuable part of my fortune, consisting of copyrights, etc., which, though advantageous in my lifetime, might have been less so at my decease, unless under the management of a person acquainted with the nature of such property. All I have to fear on Lockhart's part, is a certain rashness, which I trust has been the effect of youth and high spirits, joined to lack of good advice, as he seems perfectly good-humored and very docile. So I trust your little friend Sophia, who I know has an interest in your bosom, has a very fair chance for such happiness as this motley world can afford."--_Familiar Letters_, vol. ii. pp. 73, 77.]]

TO MRS. SCOTT, 39 CASTLE STREET, EDINBURGH.

PICCADILLY, 20th March, 1820.

MY DEAR CHARLOTTE,--I have got a delightful plan for the addition
at Abb----, which I think will make it quite complete, and
furnish me with a handsome library, and you with a drawing-room
and better bedroom, with good bedrooms for company, etc. It will
cost me a little hard work to meet the expense, but I have been a
good while idle. I hope to leave this town early next week, and
shall hasten back with great delight to my own household gods.

I hope this will find you from under Dr. Ross's charge. I expect
to see you quite in beauty when I come down, for I assure you I
have been coaxed by very pretty ladies here, and look for merry
faces at home. My picture comes on, and will be a grand thing,
but the sitting is a great bore. Chantrey's bust is one of the
finest things he ever did. It is quite the fashion to go to see
it--there's for you. Yours, my dearest love, with the most
sincere affection,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO THE SAME.

PICCADILLY, March 27.

MY DEAR CHARLOTTE,--I have the pleasure to say that Lord Sidmouth
has promised to dismiss me in all my honors by the 30th, so that
I can easily be with you by the end of April; and you and Sophia
may easily select the 28th, 29th, or 30th, for the ceremony. I
have been much feted here, as usual, and had a very quiet dinner
at Mr. Arbuthnot's yesterday with the Duke of Wellington, where
Walter heard the great Lord in all his glory talk of war and
Waterloo. Here is a hellish--yes, literally a hellish bustle. My
head turns round with it. The whole mob of the Middlesex
blackguards pass through Piccadilly twice a day, and almost drive
me mad with their noise and vociferation.[90] Pray do, my dear
Charlotte, write soon. You know those at a distance are always
anxious to hear from home. I beg you to say what would give you
pleasure that I could bring from this place, and whether you want
anything from Mrs. Arthur for yourself, Sophia, or Anne; also
what would please little Charles. You know you may stretch a
point on this occasion. Richardson says your honors will be
gazetted on Saturday; certainly very soon, as the King, I
believe, has signed the warrant. When, or how I shall see him, is
not determined, but I suppose I shall have to go to Brighton. My
best love attends the girls, little Charles, and all the
quadrupeds.

I conclude that the marriage will take place in Castle Street,
and want to know where they go, etc. All this you will have to
settle without my wise head; but I shall be terribly critical--so
see you do all right. I am always, dearest Charlotte, most
affectionately yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

(_For the Lady Scott of Abbotsford--to be._)

[Footnote 90: The general election was going on.]

TO MR. JAMES BALLANTYNE, PRINTER, ST. JOHN'S STREET, EDINBURGH.

96 PICCADILLY, 28th March.

DEAR JAMES,--I am much obliged by your attentive letter.
Unquestionably Longman and Co. sell their books at subscription
price, because they have the first of the market, and only one
third of the books; so that, as they say with us, "let them care
that come ahint." This I knew and foresaw, and the ragings of the
booksellers, considerably aggravated by the displeasure of
Constable and his house, are ridiculous enough; and as to their
injuring the work, if it have a principle of locomotion in it,
they cannot stop it--if it has not, they cannot make it move. I
care not a bent twopence about their quarrels; only I say now, as
I always said, that Constable's management is best, both for
himself and the author; and, had we not been controlled by the
narrowness of discount, I would put nothing past him. I agree
with the public in thinking the work not very interesting; but it
was written with as much care as the others--that is, with no
care at all; and,

"If it is na weil bobbit, we'll bobb it again."

On these points I am Atlas. I cannot write much in this bustle of
engagements, with Sir Francis's mob holloing under the windows. I
find that even this light composition demands a certain degree of
silence, and I might as well live in a cotton-mill. Lord Sidmouth
tells me I will obtain leave to quit London by the 30th, which
will be delightful news, for I find I cannot bear late hours and
great society so well as formerly; and yet it is a fine thing to
hear politics talked of by Ministers of State, and war discussed
by the Duke of Wellington.[91]

[Footnote 91: [Soon after his return, Scott writes to Morritt:--

"London I thought incredibly tiresome; I wanted my sheet anchors,--you and poor George Ellis,--by whom I could ride at quiet moorings without mixing entirely in the general vortex. The great lion--great in every sense--was the gigantic Belzoni, the handsomest man (for a giant) I ever saw or could suppose to myself. He is said completely to have overawed the Arabs, your old friends, by his great strength, height, and energy. I had one delightful evening in company with the Duke of Wellington, and heard him fight over Waterloo and his other battles with the greatest good-humor. It is odd, he says, that the most distinct writer on military affairs whose labors he has perused is James II., in the warlike details given in his own Memoirs. I have not read over these Memoirs lately, but I think I do not recollect much to justify the eulogium of so great a master."--_Familiar Letters_, vol. ii. p. 77.]]

My occasions here will require that John or you send me two notes
payable at Coutts's for L300 each, at two and three months' date.
I will write to Constable for one at L350, which will settle my
affairs here--which, with fees and other matters, come, as you
may think, pretty heavy. Let the bills be drawn payable at
Coutts's, and sent without delay. I will receive them safe if
sent under Mr. Freeling's cover. Mention particularly what you
are doing, for now is your time to push miscellaneous work. Pray
take great notice of inaccuracies in the Novels. They are very,
very many--some mine, I dare say--but all such as you may and
ought to correct. If you would call on William Erskine (who is
your well-wisher, and a little mortified he never sees you), he
would point out some of them.

Do you ever see Lockhart? You should consult him on every doubt
where you would refer to me if present. Yours very truly,

W. S.

You say nothing of John, yet I am anxious about him.

TO MR. LAIDLAW, KAESIDE, MELROSE.

LONDON, April 2, 1820.

DEAR WILLIE,--I had the great pleasure of your letter, which
carries me back to my own braes, which I love so dearly, out of
this place of bustle and politics. When I can see my Master--and
thank him for many acts of favor--I think I will bid adieu to
London forever; for neither the hours nor the society suit me so
well as a few years since. There is too much necessity for
exertion, too much brilliancy and excitation from morning till
night.

I am glad the sheep are away, though at a loss. I should think
the weather rather too dry for planting, judging by what we have
here. Do not let Tom go on sticking in plants to no
purpose--better put in firs in a rainy week in August. Give my
service to him. I expect to be at Edinburgh in the end of this
month, and to get a week at Abbotsford before the Session sits
down. I think you are right to be in no hurry to let Broomielees.
There seems no complaint of wanting money here just now, so I
hope things will come round.

Ever yours truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO MISS SCOTT, CASTLE STREET, EDINBURGH.

LONDON, April 3, 1820.

DEAR SOPHIA,--I have no letter from any one at home excepting
Lockhart, and he only says you are all well; and I trust it is
so. I have seen most of my old friends, who are a little the
worse for the wear, like myself. A five years' march down the
wrong side of the hill tells more than ten on the right side. Our
good friends here are kind as kind can be, and no frumps. They
lecture the Cornet a little, which he takes with becoming
deference and good-humor. There is a certain veil of Flanders
lace floating in the wind for a certain occasion, from a certain
godmother, but that is more than a dead secret.

We had a very merry day yesterday at Lord Melville's, where we
found Lord Huntly[92] and other friends, and had a bumper to the
new Baronet, whose name was Gazetted that evening. Lady Huntly
plays Scotch tunes like a Highland angel. She ran a set of
variations on "Kenmure's on and awa'," which I told her were
enough to raise a whole country-side. I never in my life heard
such fire thrown into that sort of music. I am now laying anchors
to windward, as John Ferguson says, to get Walter's leave
extended. We saw the Duke of York, who was very civil, but wants
altogether the courtesy of the King. I have had a very gracious
message from the King. He is expected up very soon, so I don't go
to Brighton, which is so far good. I fear his health is not
strong. Meanwhile all goes forward for the Coronation. The
expense of the robes for the peers may amount to L400 apiece. All
the ermine is bought up at the most extravagant prices. I hear so
much of it, that I really think, like Beau Tibbs,[93] I shall be
tempted to come up and see it, if possible. Indeed, I don't see
why I should not stay here, as I seem to be forgotten at home.
The people here are like to smother me with kindness, so why
should I be in a great hurry to leave them?

I write, wishing to know what I could bring Anne and you and
mamma down, that would be acceptable; and I shall be much obliged
to you to put me up to that matter. To little Charles also I
promised something, and I wish to know what he would like. I hope
he pays attention to Mr. Thomson, to whom remember my best
compliments. I hope to get something for him soon.

To-day I go to spend my Sabbath quietly with Joanna Baillie and
John Richardson, at Hampstead. The long Cornet goes with me. I
have kept him amongst the seniors; nevertheless he seems pretty
well amused. He is certainly one of the best-conditioned lads I
ever saw, in point of temper.

I understand you and Anne have gone through the ceremony of
confirmation. Pray write immediately, and let me know how you are
all going on, and what you would like to have, all of you. You
know how much I would like to please you.

Yours, most affectionately,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 92: The late Duke of Gordon.]

[Footnote 93: See Goldsmith's _Citizen of the World_, No. 105.]

While Scott remained in London, the Professorship of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh became vacant by the death of Dr. Thomas Brown; and among others who proposed themselves as candidates to fill it, was the author of the Isle of Palms. He was opposed in the Town Council (who are the patrons of most of the Edinburgh Chairs), on various pretences, but solely, in fact, on party grounds,--certain humorous political pieces having much exacerbated the Whigs of the North against him; and I therefore wrote to Scott, requesting him to animate the Tory Ministers in his behalf. Sir Walter did so, and Mr. Wilson's canvass was successful.[94] The answer to my communication was in these terms:--

[Footnote 94: [This academic struggle was as fiercely contested as though it had been a political contest, which in truth it was. Lockhart celebrated Wilson's victory in the _Testimonium_ (prefacing the seventh volume of _Blackwood_), thus keeping alive the passion of the hour. In July Scott wrote to his son-in-law, and through him to Wilson, a letter which is especially interesting, as showing the writer's attitude in regard to the personalities of _Maga_, which his political opponents were inclined to believe had at least his tacit approval. The letter, from which these extracts are taken, will be found in Lang's _Life of Lockhart_ (vol. i. pp. 239-245), where it was published for the first time:--

... "I am sure our friend has been taught the danger of giving way to high spirits in mixed society, where there is some one always ready to laugh at the joke and to put it into his pocket to throw in the jester's face on some future occasion. It is plain Wilson must have walked the course had he been cautious in selecting the friends of his lighter hours, and now, clothed with philosophical dignity, his friends will really expect he should be on his guard in this respect, and add to his talents and amiable disposition the proper degree of _retenue_ becoming a moral teacher. Try to express all this to him in your own way, and believe that, as I have said it from the best motives, so I would wish it conveyed in the most delicate terms, as from one who equally honors Wilson's genius and loves his benevolent, ardent, and amiable disposition, but who would willingly see them mingled with the caution which leaves calumny no pin to hang her infamous accusations upon.

"For the reasons above mentioned I wish you had not published the _Testimonium_. It is very clever, but descends to too low game. If Jeffrey or Cranstoun, or any of the dignitaries, chose to fight such skirmishes, there would be some credit in it; but I do not like to see you turn out as a sharpshooter with ****. 'What does thou drawn among these heartless hinds?' ... I have hitherto avoided saying anything on this subject, though some little turn towards personal satire is, I think, the only drawback to your great and powerful talents, and I think I may have hinted as much to you. But I wished to see how this matter of Wilson's would turn, before making a clean breast upon this subject. It might have so happened that you could not handsomely or kindly have avoided a share in his defence, if the enemy had prevailed, and where friendship, or country, or any strong call demands the use of satiric talent, I hope I should neither fear risk myself or desire a friend to shun it. But now that he has triumphed, I think it would be bad taste to cry out,--

'Strike up our drums--pursue the scattered stray.'

Besides, the natural consequence of his new situation must be his relinquishing his share in these compositions--at least, he will injure himself in the opinion of many friends, and expose himself to a continuation of galling and vexatious disputes to the embittering of his life, should he do otherwise. In that case I really hope you will pause before you undertake to be the Boaz of the _Maga_; I mean in the personal and satirical department, when the Jachin has seceded.

"Besides all other objections of personal enemies, personal quarrels, constant obloquy, and all uncharitableness, such an occupation will fritter away your talents, hurt your reputation both as a lawyer and a literary man, and waste away your time in what at best will be but a monthly wonder. What has been done in this department will be very well as a frolic of young men, but let it suffice, 'the gambol has been shown'--the frequent repetition will lose its effect even as pleasantry, for Peter Pindar, the sharpest of personal satirists, wrote himself down, and wrote himself out, and is forgotten....

"Revere yourself, my dear boy, and think you were born to do your country better service than in this species of warfare. I make no apology (I am sure you will require none) for speaking plainly what my anxious affection dictates. As the old warrior says, 'May the name of Mevni be forgotten among the people, and may they only say, Behold the father of Gaul.' I wish you to have the benefit of my experience without purchasing it; and be assured, that the consciousness of attaining complete superiority over your calumniators and enemies by the force of your general character, is worth a dozen of triumphs over them by the force of wit and raillery. I am sure Sophia, as much as she can or ought to form any judgment respecting the line of conduct you have to pursue in your new character of a man married and settled, will be of my opinion in this matter, and that you will consider her happiness and your own, together with the respectability of both, by giving what I have said your anxious consideration."

Lockhart's reply to this letter, expressing gratitude, and promising amendment, can be found in _Familiar Letters_, vol. ii. p. 86.]]

TO J. G. LOCKHART, ESQ., GREAT KING STREET, EDINBURGH.

LONDON, 30th March, 1820.

DEAR LOCKHART,--I have yours of the Sunday morning, which has
been terribly long of coming. There needed no apology for
mentioning anything in which I could be of service to Wilson;
and, so far as good words and good wishes _here_ can do, I think
he will be successful; but the battle must be fought in
Edinburgh. You are aware that the only point of exception to
Wilson may be, that, with the fire of genius, he has possessed
some of its eccentricities; but, did he ever approach to those of
Henry Brougham, who is the god of Whiggish idolatry? If the high
and rare qualities with which he is invested are to be thrown
aside as useless, because they may be clouded by a few grains of
dust which he can blow aside at pleasure, it is less a punishment
on Mr. Wilson than on the country. I have little doubt he would
consider success in this weighty matter as a pledge for binding
down his acute and powerful mind to more regular labor than
circumstances have hitherto required of him, for indeed, without
doing so, the appointment could in no point of view answer his
purpose. He must stretch to the oar for his own credit, as well
as that of his friends; and if he does so, there can be no doubt
that his efforts will be doubly blessed, in reference both to
himself and to public utility. He must make every friend he can
amongst the Council. Palladio Johnstone should not be omitted. If
my wife canvasses him, she may do some good.[95]

You must, of course, recommend to Wilson great temper in his
canvass--for wrath will do no good. After all, he must leave off
sack, purge and live cleanly as a gentleman ought to do;
otherwise people will compare his present ambition to that of Sir
Terry O'Fag, when he wished to become a judge. "Our pleasant
follies are made the whips to scourge us," as Lear says; for
otherwise, what could possibly stand in the way of his
nomination? I trust it will take place, and give him the
consistence and steadiness which are all he wants to make him
the first man of the age.

I am very angry with Castle Street--not a soul has written me,
save yourself, since I came to London.

Yours very truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 95: Mr. Robert Johnstone, a grocer on a large scale on the North Bridge of Edinburgh, and long one of the leading Bailies, was about this time the prominent patron of some architectural novelties in Auld Reekie, which had found no favor with Scott;--hence his praenomen of _Palladio_--which he owed, I believe, to a song in _Blackwood's Magazine_. The good Bailie had been at the High School with Sir Walter, and their friendly intercourse was never interrupted but by death.]

Sir Walter, accompanied by the Cornet, reached Edinburgh late in April, and on the 29th of that month he gave me the hand of his daughter Sophia. The wedding, _more Scotico_, took place in the evening; and adhering on all such occasions to ancient modes of observance with the same punctiliousness which he mentions as distinguishing his worthy father, he gave a jolly supper afterwards to all the friends and connections of the young couple.[96]

[Footnote 96: ["On Friday evening I gave away Sophia to Mr. Lockhart.... I own my house seems lonely to me since she left us, but that is a natural feeling, which will soon wear off. I have every reason to think I have consulted her happiness in the match, as became the father of a most attached and dutiful daughter, who never in her life gave me five minutes' vexation. In the mean time the words run strangely in my ear:--

'Ah me! the flower and blossom of my house
The wind has blown away to other towers.'"

--Scott to Lady Abercorn--_Familiar Letters_, vol. ii. p. 75.]]

His excursions to Tweedside during Term-time were, with very rare exceptions, of the sort which I have described in the preceding chapter; but he departed from his rule about this time in honor of the Swedish Prince, who had expressed a wish to see Abbotsford before leaving Scotland, and assembled a number of his friends and neighbors to meet his Royal Highness. Of the invitations which he distributed on this occasion, I insert one specimen--that addressed to Mr. Scott of Gala:--

_To the Baron of Galashiels
The Knight of Abbotsford sends greeting._

Trusty and well-beloved,--Whereas Gustavus, Prince Royal of
Sweden, proposeth to honor our poor house of Abbotsford with his
presence on Thursday next, and to repose himself there for
certain days, We do heartily pray you, out of the love and
kindness which is and shall abide betwixt us, to be aiding to us
at this conjuncture, and to repair to Abbotsford with your lady,
either upon Thursday or Friday, as may best suit your convenience
and pleasure, looking for no denial at your hands. Which loving
countenance we will, with all thankfulness, return to you at your
mansion of Gala. The hour of appearance being five o'clock, we
request you to be then and there present, as you love the honor
of the name; and so advance banners in the name of God and St.
Andrew.

WALTER SCOTT.

Given at EDINBURGH,
20th May, 1820.

The visit of Count Itterburg is alluded to in this letter to the Cornet, who had now rejoined his regiment in Ireland. It appears that on reaching headquarters he had found a charger _hors de combat_.

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

CASTLE STREET, May 31, 1820.

DEAR WALTER,--I enclose the cheque for the allowance; pray take
care to get good notes in exchange. You had better speak to the
gentleman whom Lord Shannon introduced you to, for, when banks
take a-breaking, it seldom stops with the first who go. I am very
sorry for your loss. You must be economical for a while, and
bring yourself round again, for at this moment I cannot so well
assist as I will do by and by. So do not buy anything but what
you _need_.

I was at Abbotsford for three days last week, to receive Count
Itterburg, who seemed very happy while with us, and was much
affected when he took his leave. I am sorry for him--his
situation is a very particular one, and his feelings appear to be
of the kindest order. When he took leave of me, he presented me
with a beautiful seal, with all our new blazonries cut on a fine
amethyst; and what I thought the prettiest part, on one side of
the setting is cut my name, on the other the Prince's--_Gustaf_.
He is to travel through Ireland, and will probably be at Cork.
You will, of course, ask the Count and Baron to mess, and offer
all civilities in your power, in which, I dare say, Colonel
Murray will readily join. They intend to inquire after you.

I have bought the land adjoining to the Burnfoot cottage, so that
we now march with the Duke of Buccleuch all the way round that
course. It cost me L2300--but there is a great deal of valuable
fir planting, which you may remember; fine roosting for the black
game. Still I think it is L200 too dear, but Mr. Laidlaw thinks
it can be made worth the money, and it rounds the property off
very handsomely. You cannot but remember the ground; it lies
under the Eildon, east of the Chargelaw.

Mamma, Anne, and Charles are all well. Sophia has been
complaining of a return of her old sprain. I told her Lockhart
would return her on our hands as not being sound wind and limb.

I beg you to look at your French, and have it much at heart that
you should study German. Believe me, always affectionately yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

In May, 1820, Scott received from both the English Universities the highest compliment which it was in their power to offer him. The Vice-Chancellors of Oxford and Cambridge communicated to him, in the same week, their request that he would attend at the approaching Commemorations, and accept the honorary degree of Doctor in Civil Law. It was impossible for him to leave Scotland again that season; and on various subsequent renewals of the same flattering proposition from either body, he was prevented, by similar circumstances, from availing himself of their distinguished kindness.

In the course of a few months, Scott's family arrangements had undergone, as we have seen, considerable alteration. Meanwhile he continued anxious to be allowed to adopt, as it were, the only son of his brother Thomas; and the letter, in consequence of which that promising youth was at last committed to his charge, contains so much matter likely to interest parents and guardians, that, though long, I cannot curtail it.

TO THOMAS SCOTT, ESQ., PAYMASTER 70th REGIMENT.

ABBOTSFORD, 23d July, 1820.

MY DEAR TOM,--Your letter of May, this day received, made me
truly happy, being the first I have received from you since our
dear mother's death, and the consequent breaches which fate has
made in our family. My own health continues quite firm, at no
greater sacrifice than bidding adieu to our old and faithful
friend John Barleycorn, whose life-blood has become a little too
heavy for my stomach. I wrote to you from London concerning the
very handsome manner in which the King behaved to me in
conferring my _petit titre_, and also of Sophia's intended
marriage, which took place in the end of April, as we intended. I
got Walter's leave prolonged, that he might be present, and I
assure you, that when he attended the ceremony in full
regimentals, you have scarce seen a handsomer young man. He is
about six feet and an inch, and perfectly well made. Lockhart
seems to be everything I could wish,--and as they have enough to
live easily upon for the present, and good expectations for the
future, life opens well with them. They are to spend their
vacations in a nice little cottage, in a glen belonging to this
property, with a rivulet in front, and a grove of trees on the
east side to keep away the cold wind. It is about two miles
distant from this house, and a very pleasant walk reaches to it
through my plantations, which now occupy several hundred acres.
Thus there will be space enough betwixt the old man of letters
and the young one. Charles's destination to India is adjourned
till he reaches the proper age: it seems he cannot hold a
Writership until he is sixteen years old, and then is admitted to
study for two years at Hertford College.

After my own sons, my most earnest and anxious wish will be, of
course, for yours,--and with this view I have pondered well what
you say on the subject of your Walter; and whatever line of life
you may design him for, it is scarce possible but that I can be
of considerable use to him. Before fixing, however, on a point so
very important, I would have you consult the nature of the boy
himself. I do not mean by this that you should ask his opinion,
because at so early an age a well bred up child naturally takes
up what is suggested to him by his parents; but I think you
should consider, with as much impartiality as a parent can, his
temper, disposition, and qualities of mind and body. It is not
enough that you think there is an opening for him in one
profession rather than another,--for it were better to sacrifice
the fairest prospects of that kind than to put a boy into a line
of life for which he is not calculated. If my nephew is steady,
cautious, fond of a sedentary life and quiet pursuits, and at the
same time a proficient in arithmetic, and with a disposition
towards the prosecution of its highest branches, he cannot follow
a better line than that of an accountant. It is highly
respectable--and is one in which, with attention and skill, aided
by such opportunities as I may be able to procure for him, he
must ultimately succeed. I say ultimately--because the harvest is
small and the laborers numerous in this as in other branches of
our legal practice; and whoever is to dedicate himself to them,
must look for a long and laborious tract of attention ere he
reaches the reward of his labors. If I live, however, I will do
all I can for him, and see him put under a proper person, taking
his 'prentice fee, etc., upon myself. But if, which may possibly
be the case, the lad has a decided turn for active life and
adventure, is high-spirited, and impatient of long and dry labor,
with some of those feelings not unlikely to result from having
lived all his life in a camp or a barrack, do not deceive
yourself, my dear brother--you will never make him an accountant;
you will never be able to convert such a sword into a
pruning-hook, merely because you think a pruning-hook the better
thing of the two. In this supposed case, your authority and my
recommendation might put him into an accountant's office; but it
would be just to waste the earlier years of his life in idleness,
with all the temptations to dissipation which idleness gives way
to; and what sort of a place a writing-chamber is, you cannot but
remember. So years might wear away, and at last the youth starts
off from his profession, and becomes an adventurer too late in
life, and with the disadvantage, perhaps, of offended friends and
advanced age standing in the way of his future prospects.

This is what I have judged fittest in my own family, for Walter
would have gone to the Bar had I liked; but I was sensible (with
no small reluctance did I admit the conviction) that I should
only spoil an excellent soldier to make a poor and
undistinguished gownsman. On the same principle I shall send
Charles to India,--not, God knows, with my will, for there is
little chance of my living to see him return; but merely that,
judging by his disposition, I think the voyage of his life might
be otherwise lost in shallows. He has excellent parts, but they
are better calculated for intercourse with the world than for
hard and patient study. Having thus sent one son abroad from my
family, and being about to send off the other in due time, you
will not, I am sure, think that I can mean disregard to your
parental feelings in stating what I can do for your Walter.
Should his temper and character incline for active life, I think
I can promise to get him a cadetship in the East India Company's
service; so soon as he has had the necessary education, I will
be at the expense of his equipment and passage-money; and when he
reaches India, there he is completely provided, secure of a
competence if he lives, and with great chance of a fortune if he
thrives. I am aware this would be a hard pull at Mrs. Scott's
feelings and yours; but recollect, your fortune is small, and the
demands on it numerous, and pagodas and rupees are no bad things.
I can get Walter the first introductions, and if he behaves
himself as becomes your son, and my nephew, I have friends enough
in India, and of the highest class, to insure his success, even
his rapid success--always supposing my recommendations to be
seconded by his own conduct. If, therefore, the youth has
anything of your own spirit, for God's sake do not condemn him to
a drudgery which he will never submit to--and remember, to
sacrifice his fortune to your fondness will be sadly mistaken
affection. As matters stand, unhappily you must be separated; and
considering the advantages of India, the mere circumstance of
distance is completely counterbalanced. Health is what will
naturally occur to Mrs. Scott; but the climate of India is now
well understood, and those who attend to ordinary precautions
live as healthy as in Britain. And so I have said my say. Most
heartily will I do my best in any way you may ultimately decide
for; and as the decision really ought to turn on the boy's temper
and disposition, you must be a better judge by far than any one
else. But if he should resemble his father and uncle in certain
indolent habits, I fear he will make a better subject for an
animating life of enterprise than for the technical labor of an
accountant's desk. There is no occasion, fortunately, for forming
any hasty resolution. When you send him here, I will do all that
is in my power to stand in the place of a father to him, and you
may fully rely on my care and tenderness. If he should ultimately
stay at Edinburgh, as both my own boys leave me, I am sure I
shall have great pleasure in having the nearest in blood after
them with me. Pray send him as soon as you can, for at his age,
and under imperfect opportunities of education, he must have a
good deal to make up. I wish I could be of the same use to you
which I am sure I can be to your son.

Of public news I have little to send. The papers will tell you
the issue of the Radical row for the present. The yeomanry
behaved most gallantly. There is in Edinburgh a squadron as fine
as ours was--all young men, and zealous soldiers. They made the
western campaign with the greatest spirit, and had some hard and
fatiguing duty, long night-marches, surprises of the enemy, and
so forth, but no fight, for the whole Radical plot went to the
devil when it came to gun and sword. Scarce any blood was shed,
except in a trifling skirmish at Bonnymuir, near Carron. The
rebels were behind a wall, and fired on ten hussars and as many
yeomen--the latter under command of a son of James Davidson, W.
S. The cavalry cleared the wall, and made them prisoners to a
man. The Commission of Oyer and Terminer is now busy trying them
and others. The Edinburgh young men showed great spirit; all took
arms, and my daughters say (I was in London at the time) that not
a feasible-looking beau was to be had for love or money. Several
were like old Beardie; they would not shave their moustaches till
the Radicals were put down, and returned with most awful
whiskers. Lockhart is one of the cavalry, and a very good
trooper. It is high to hear these young fellows talk of the Raid
of Airdrie, the trot of Kilmarnock, and so on, like so many
moss-troopers.

The Queen is making an awful bustle, and though by all accounts
her conduct has been most abandoned and beastly, she has got the
whole mob for her partisans, who call her injured innocence, and
what not. She has courage enough to dare the worst, and a most
decided desire to be revenged of _him_, which, by the way, can
scarce be wondered at. If she had as many followers of high as
of low degree (in proportion), and funds to equip them, I should
not be surprised to see her fat bottom in a pair of buckskins,
and at the head of an army--God mend all. The things said of her
are beyond all usual profligacy. Nobody of any fashion visits
her. I think myself monstrously well clear of London and its
intrigues, when I look round my green fields, and recollect I
have little to do, but to

----"make my grass mow,
And my apple-tree grow."

I beg my kind love to Mrs. Huxley. I have a very acceptable
letter from her, and I trust to retain the place she promises me
in her remembrance. Sophia will be happy to hear from Uncle Tom,
when Uncle Tom has so much leisure. My best compliments attend
your wife and daughters, not forgetting Major Huxley and Walter.
My dear Tom, it will be a happy moment when circumstances shall
permit us a meeting on this side Jordan, as Tabitha says, to talk
over old stories, and lay new plans. So many things have fallen
out which I had set my heart upon strongly, that I trust this may
happen amongst others.--Believe me, yours very affectionately,

WALTER SCOTT.[97]

[Footnote 97: Here ended Vol. IV. of the Original Edition.--(1839.)]