Chapter XXXI: Part 31

My kind friend the Lord Chief Commissioner offered to interfere to have me named a Privy Councillor; but besides that when one is poor he ought to avoid taking rank, I would be much happier if I thought any act of kindness was done to help forward Charles; and, having said so much, I made my bow, and declared my purpose of remaining satisfied with the article of my knighthood. And here I am, for the rest of my life I suppose, with a competent income, which I can [increase].

All this is rather pleasing, nor have I the least doubt that I could make myself easy by literary labour. But much of it looks like winding up my bottom for the rest of my life. But there is a worse symptom of settling accounts, of which I have felt some signs.

Last spring, Miss Young, the daughter of Dr. Young, had occasion to call on me on some business, in which I had hopes of serving her. As I endeavoured to explain to her what I had to say, I had the horror to find I could not make myself understood. I stammered, stuttered, said one word in place of another--did all but speak; Miss Young went away frightened enough, poor thing; and Anne and Violet Lockhart were much alarmed. I was bled with cupping-glasses, took medicine, and lived on panada; but in two or three days I was well again. The physicians thought, or said at least, that the evil was from the stomach. It is very certain that I have seemed to speak with an impediment, and I was, or it might be fancied myself, troubled with a mispronouncing and hesitation. I felt this particularly at the Election, and sometimes in society. This went on till last November, when Lord ------ came out to make me a visit. I had for a long time taken only one tumbler of whisky and water without the slightest reinforcement. This night I took a very little drop, not so much as a bumper glass, of whisky altogether. It made no difference on my head that I could discover, but when I went to the dressing-room I sank stupefied on the floor. I lay a minute or two--was not found, luckily, gathered myself up, and got to my bed. I was alarmed at this second warning, consulted Abercrombie and Ross, and got a few restrictive orders as to diet. I am forced to attend to them; for, as Mrs. Cole says, "Lack-a-day! a thimbleful oversets me."

To add to these feelings I have the constant increase of my lameness: the thigh-joint, knee-joint, and ankle-joint.

_December_ 21.--I walk with great pain in the whole limb, and am at every minute, during an hour's walk, reminded of my mortality. I should not care for all this, if I was sure of dying handsomely. Cadell's calculations would be sufficiently firm though the author of _Waverly_ had pulled on his last nightcap. Nay, they might be even more trustworthy, if Remains, and Memoirs, and such like, were to give a zest to the posthumous. But the fear is the blow be not sufficient to destroy life, and that I should linger on an idiot and a show.[406]....

We parted on good terms and hopes.[407] But, fall back, fall edge, nothing shall induce me to publish what I do not think advantageous to the community, or suppress what is.

_December_ 23.--To add for this day to the evil thereof, I am obliged to hold a Black-fishing Court at Selkirk. This is always a very unpopular matter in one of our counties, as the salmon never do get up to the heads of the waters in wholesome season, and are there in numbers in spawning-time. So that for several years during the late period, the gentry, finding no advantage from preserving the spawning fish, neglected the matter altogether in a kind of dudgeon, and the peasantry laid them waste at their will. As the property is very valuable, the proprietors down the country agreed to afford some additional passage for fish when the river is open, providing they will protect the spawning fish during close-time. A new Act has been passed, with heavy penalties and summary powers of recovery. Some persons are cited under it to-day; and a peculiar licence of poaching having distinguished the district of late years, we shall be likely to have some disturbance. They have been holding a meeting for reform in Selkirk, and it will be difficult to teach them that this consists in anything else save the privilege of obeying only such laws as please them. We shall see, but I would have counselled the matter to have been delayed for a little season. I shall do my duty, however. Do what is right, come what will.

Six black-fishers were tried, four were condemned. All went very quietly till the conclusion, when one of the criminals attempted to break out. I stopped him for the time with my own hand.[408] But after removing him from the Court-house to the jail he broke from the officers, who are poor feeble old men, the very caricature of peace officers.

_December_ 24.--This morning my old acquaintance and good friend Miss Bell Ferguson died after a short illness: an old friend, and a woman of the most excellent condition. The last two or almost three years were very sickly.

A bitter cold day. Anne drove me over to Huntly Burn to see the family. I found Colonel Ferguson and Captain John, R.N., in deep affliction, expecting Sir Adam hourly. Anne sets off to Mertoun, and I remain alone. I wrote to Walter about the project of making my succession in movables. J.B. sent me praises of the work I am busy with.[409] But I suspect a little _supercherie_, though he protests not. He is going to the country without sending me the political article. But he shall either set up or return it, as I won't be tutored by any one in what I do or forbear.

_December_ 25.--I have sketched a political article on a union of Tories and an Income Tax. But I will not show my teeth if I find I cannot bite. Arrived at Mertoun, and found with the family Sir John Pringle, Major Pringle, and Charles Baillie. Very pleasant music by the Miss Pringles.

_December_ 26, [_Mertoun_].--Prayers after breakfast, being Sunday. Afterwards I shut myself up in Mr. Scott's room.

He has lately become purchaser of his grandfather's valuable library, which was collected by Pope's Lord Marchmont. Part of it is a very valuable collection of tracts during the great Civil War. I spent several hours in turning them over, but I could not look them through with any accuracy. I passed my time very pleasantly, and made some extracts, however, and will resume my research another day.

Major Pringle repeated some pretty verses of his own composing.

I had never a more decided inclination to go loose, yet I know I had better keep quiet.

_December_ 27, [_Abbotsford_].--Commences snow, and extremely bitter cold. When I returned from Mertoun, half-frozen, I took up the _Magnum_, and began to notify the romance called _Woodstock_, in which I got some assistance from Harden's ancient tracts. I ought rather to get on with _Robert of Paris_; but I have had all my life a longing to do something else when I am called to particular labour,--a vile contradictory humour which I cannot get rid of. Well, I can work at something, so at the _Magnum_ work I. The day was indeed broken, great part having been employed in the return from Mertoun.

_December_ 28.--Drove down to Huntly Burn. Sir Adam very melancholy, the death of his sister having come with a particular and shocking surprise upon him. After half-an-hour's visit I returned and resumed the _Magnum_.

_December_ 29.--Attended poor Miss Bell Ferguson's funeral. I sat by the Rev. Mr. Thomson. Though ten years younger than me, I found the barrier between him and me much broken down. We remember it though with more or less accuracy. We took the same old persons for subjects of correspondence of feeling and sentiment. The difference of ten years is little after sixty has passed. In a cold day I saw poor Bell laid in her cold bed. Life never parted with a less effort. Letter from Cadell offering to advance on second series French Tales. This will come in good time, and keep me easy. He proposes views for the _Magnum_. I fear politics may disappoint them.

_December_ 30.--Meeting at Selkirk to-day about the new road to Galashiels. It was the largest meeting I ever saw in Selkirkshire. We gain the victory by no less than 14 to 4. I was named one of the committee to carry the matter on, so in gaining my victory I think I have caught a Tartar, for I have taken on trouble enough. Some company,--Lord Napier, Scotts of Harden, Johnstone of Alva, Major Pringle. In the evening had some private conversation with H.F.S. and R.J., and think there is life in a mussel. More of this hereafter.

_December_ 31.--My two young friends left this morning, but not without renewing our conversation of last night. We carried on the little amusements of the day, and spent our Hogmanay pleasantly enough, in spite of very bad auguries.

FOOTNOTES:

[405] See _Life_, vol. x. pp. 10-25.

[406]

"From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, And Swift expires a driveller and a show."--Johnson's _Vanity of Human Wishes_.

[407] Mr. Cadell and Mr. Ballantyne had arrived at Abbotsford on the 18th, bringing with them the good news from Edinburgh of the payment of the second dividend, and of the handsome conduct of the creditors. There had been a painful discussion between them and Sir Walter during the early part of the winter on _Count Robert of Paris_, particulars of which are given in _the Life_ (vol. x. pp. 6, 10-17, 21-23), but they found their host much better than they had ventured to anticipate, and he made the gift of his library the chief subject of conversation during the evening. Next morning Mr. Ballantyne was asked to read aloud a political essay on Reform--intended to be a _Fourth Epistle of Malachi_. After careful consideration, the critical arbiters concurred in condemning the production, but suggested a compromise. His friends left him on the 21st, and the essay, though put in type, was never published. Proof and MS. were finally consigned to the flames!--_Life_, vol. x. pp. 21-25.

[408] An account of this incident is given by an eye-witness, Mr. Peter Rodger, Procurator-Fiscal, who says: "The prisoner, thinking it a good chance of escaping, made a movement in direction of the door. This Sir Walter detected in time to descend from the Bench and place himself in the desperate man's path. 'Never!' said he; 'if you do, it will be over the body of an old man.' Whereupon the other officials of the Court came to the Sheriff's assistance and the prisoner was secured."--Craig-Brown's _Selkirkshire_, vol. ii. p. 141.

[409] _Count Robert of Paris_.

1831.

JANUARY.

_January_ 1, 1831.--I cannot say the world opens pleasantly with me this new year. I will strike the balance. There are many things for which I have reason to be thankful.

_First_.--Cadell's plans seem to have succeeded, and he augurs well as to the next two years, reckoning £30,000 on the stuff now on hand, and £20,000 on the insurance money, and £10,000 to be borrowed somehow. This will bring us wonderfully home.

_Second_.--Cadell is of opinion if I meddle in politics, and I am strongly tempted to do so, I shall break the milk-pail, and threatens me with the fate of Basil Hall, who, as he says, destroyed his reputation by writing impolitic politics. Well, it would be my risk, and if I can do some good, which I rather think I can, is it right or manly to keep myself back?

_Third_.--I feel myself decidedly weaker in point of health, and am now confirmed I have had a paralytic touch. I speak and read with embarrassment, and even my handwriting seems to stammer. This general failure

"With mortal crisis doth portend,
My days to appropinque an end."[410]

I am not solicitous about this, only if I were worthy I would pray God for a sudden death, and no interregnum between I cease to exercise reason and I cease to exist.

The Scotts of Harden, Pringles of Stitchill, and Russells of Ashestiel, are all here; I am scarce fit for company though.

_January_ 2.--Held a great palaver with the Scotts, etc.

I find my language apt to fail me; but this is very like to be fancy, and I must be cautious of giving way to it. This cautions me against public exertion much more than Cadell's prognostications, which my blood rises against, and which are ill calculated to keep me in restraint. We dozed through a gloomy day, being the dullest of all possible thaws.

_January_ 3.--I had a letter from the Lord Chief Commissioner, mentioning the King's intention to take care of Charles's interests and promotion in the Foreign Office, an additional reason why I should not plunge rashly into politics, yet not one which I can understand as putting a padlock on my lips neither. I may write to L.C.C. that I may be called on to express an opinion on the impending changes, that I have an opinion, and a strong one, and that I hope this fresh favour [may not be regarded] as padlocking my lips at a time when it would otherwise be proper to me to speak or write. I am shocked to find that I have not the faculty of delivering myself with facility--an embarrassment which may be fanciful, but is altogether as annoying as if real.

_January_ 4.--A base, gloomy day, and dispiriting in proportion. I walked out with Swanston[411] for about an hour: everything gloomy as the back of the chimney when there is no fire in it. My walk was a melancholy one, feeling myself weaker at every step and not very able to speak. This surely cannot be fancy, yet it looks something like it. If I knew but the extent at which my inability was like to stop, but every day is worse than another. I have trifled much time, too much; I must try to get afloat to-morrow, perhaps getting an amanuensis might spur me on, for one-half is nerves. It is a sad business though.

_January_ 5.--Very indifferent, with more awkward feelings than I can well bear up against. My voice sunk and my head strangely confused. When I begin to form my ideas for conversation expressions fail me, even in private conversation, yet in solitude they are sufficiently arranged. I incline to hold that these ugly symptoms are the work of imagination; but, as Dr. Adam Ferguson,[412] a firm man if ever there was one in the world, said on such an occasion, What is worse than imagination? As Anne was vexed and frightened, I allowed her to send for young Clarkson. Of course he could tell but little, save what I knew before.

_January_ 6.--A letter from Henry Scott about the taking ground for keeping the reform in Scotland upon the Scottish principles. I will write him my private sentiments, but avoid being a _boute-feu_.

Go this day to Selkirk, where I found about 120 and more persons of that burgh and Galashiels, who were sworn in as special constables, enough to maintain the peace. What shocked me particularly was the weakness of my voice and the confusion of my head attempting to address them, which was really a poor affair. On my return I found the Rev. Mr. Milne of Quebec, a friend of my sister-in-law. Another time would have been better for company, but Captain John Ferguson and Mr. Laidlaw coming in to dinner, we got over the day well enough.

_January_ 7.--A fine frosty day, and my spirits lighter. I have a letter of great comfort from Walter, who in a manly, handsome, and dutiful manner expressed his desire to possess the library and movables of every kind at Abbotsford, with such a valuation laid upon them as I choose to impose. This removes the only delay to making my will. Supposing the literary property to clear the debts by aid of insurances and other things, about 1835 it will come into my person, and I will appoint the whole to work off the heritable debt of £10,000. If the literary property can produce that sum, besides what it has already done, I would convey it to the three younger children.

_January_ 8.--Spent much time in writing instructions for my last will and testament. Sent off parcel by Dr. Milne, who leaves to-day. Have up two boys for shop-lifting. Remained at Galashiels till four o'clock, and returned starved. Could work none, and was idle all evening--try to-morrow for a work-day; so loiter on.

_January_ 10.--Went over to Galashiels, and was busied the whole time till three o'clock about a petty thieving affair, and had before me a pair of gallows'-birds, to whom I could say nothing for total want of proof, except, like the sapient Elbow, Thou shalt continue there; know thou, thou shalt continue.[413] A little gallow brood they were, and their fate will catch them. Sleepy, idle, and exhausted on this. Wrought little or none in the evening.

Wrote a long letter to Henry [Scott], who is a fine fellow, and what I call a heart of gold. He has sound parts, good sense, and is a true man. Also, I wrote to my excellent friend the Lord Chief [Commissioner]. I thought it right to say that I accepted with gratitude his Majesty's goodness, but trusted it was not to bind me to keep my fingers from pen and ink should a notion impress me that I could help the country. I walked a little, to my exceeding refreshment. I am using that family ungratefully. But I will not, for a punctilio, avoid binding, if I can, a strong party together for the King and country, and if I see I can do anything, or have a chance of it, I will not fear for the skin-cutting. It is the selfishness of this generation that drives me mad.

"A hundred pounds?
Ha! thou hast touched me nearly."

I will get a parcel copied to-morrow; wrote several letters at night.

_January_ 11.--Wrote and sent off three of my own pages in the morning, then walked with Swanston. I tried to write before dinner, but, with drowsiness and pain in my head, made little way. My friend Will Laidlaw came in to dinner, and after dinner kindly offered his services as amanuensis. Too happy was I, and I immediately plunged him into the depths of _Count Robert_, so we got on three or four pages, worth perhaps double the number of print. I hope it did not take him too short, but after all to keep the press going without an amanuensis is impossible, and the publishers may well pay a sponsible person. He comes back to-morrow. It eases many of my anxieties, and I will stick to it. I really think Mr. Laidlaw is pleased with the engagement for the time. Sent off six close pages.

_January_ 12.--I have a visit from Mr. Macdonald the sculptor, who wishes to model a head of me. He is a gentlemanlike man, and pleasant as most sculptors and artists of reputation are, yet it is an awful tax upon time. I must manage to dictate while he models, which will do well enough.

So there we sat for three hours or four, I sitting on a stool mounted on a packing-box, for the greater advantage; Macdonald modelling and plastering away, and I dictating, without interval, to good-natured Will Laidlaw, who wrought without intermission. It is natural to ask, Do I progress? but this is too feverish a question. A man carries no scales about him to ascertain his own value. I always remember the prayer of Virgil's sailor in extremity:--

"Non jam prima peto Mnestheus, neque vincere certo;
Quamquam O!--Sed superent quibus hoc, Neptune, dedisti!
Extremos pudeat rediisse: hoc vincite, cives,
Et prohibete nefas!"[414]

We must to our oar; but I think this and another are all that even success would prompt me to write; and surely those that have been my defenders

"Have they so long held out with me untired,
And stop they now for breath? Well, be it so."[415]

_January_ 13.--Went to Selkirk on the business of the new high road. I perceive Whytbank and my cousin Colonel Russell of Ashestiel are disposed to peep into the expenses of next year's outlay, which must be provided by loan. This will probably breed strife. Wrote a hint of this to Charles Balfour. Agreed with Smith so far as contracting for the Bridges at £1200 each. I suspect we are something like the good manager who distressed herself with buying bargains.

_January_ 15.--Gave the morning from ten till near two to Mr. Macdonald, who is proceeding admirably with his bust. It is bloody cold work, but he is an enthusiast and much interested; besides, I can sit and dictate owing to Mr. Laidlaw, and so get forward, while I am advancing Lorenzo di Guasco, which is his travelling name. I wrote several letters too, and got through some business. Walked, and took some exercise between one and three.

_January_ 16.--Being Sunday, read prayers. Mr. and Mrs. James[416] go to look for a house, which they desire to take in this country. As Anne is ill, the presence of strangers, though they are pleasant, is rather annoying. Macdonald continues working to form a new bust out of my old scalp. I think it will be the last sitting which I will be enticed to. Thanks to Heaven, the work finishes to-morrow.[417]

_January_ 17.--This morning, when I came down-stairs, I found Mr. Macdonald slabbering away at the model. He has certainly great enthusiasm about his profession, which is a _sine qua non_. It was not till twelve that a post-chaise carried off my three friends.

I had wrote two hours when Dr. Turner came in, and I had to unfold my own complaints. I was sick of these interruptions, and dismissed Mr. Laidlaw, having no hope of resuming my theme with spirit. God send me more leisure and fewer friends to peck it away by tea-spoonfuls!

Another fool sends to entreat an autograph, which he should be ashamed in civility to ask, as I am to deny it. I got notice of poor Henry Mackenzie's death. He has long maintained a niche in Scottish Literature--gayest of the gay, though most sensitive of the sentimental.

_January_ 18.--Came down from my bedroom at eight, and took a rummage in the way of putting things to rights. Dictated to Laidlaw till about one o'clock, during which time it was rainy. Afterwards I walked, sliding about in the mud, and very uncomfortable. In fact, there is no mistaking the three sufficients,[418] and Fate is now straitening its circumvallations round me. Little likely to be better than I am. I am heart-whole as a biscuit, and may last on as now for eight or ten years; the thing is not uncommon, considering I am only in my sixtieth year. I cannot walk; but the intense cold weather may be to blame in this. My riding is but a scramble, but it may do well enough for exercise; and though it is unpleasant to find one's enjoyment of hill and vale so much abridged, yet still when I enjoy my books, and am without acute pain, I have but little to complain of, considering the life I have led so long.

"So hap what may;
Time and the hour run through the roughest day."[419]

Mr. Laidlaw came down at ten, and we wrought till one. This should be a good thing for an excellent man, and is an important thing to me, as it saves both my eyesight and nerves, which last are cruelly affected by finding those "who look out of the windows" grow gradually darker and darker.[420] Rode out, or more properly, was carried out, into the woods to see the course of a new road, which may serve to carry off the thinnings of the trees, and for rides. It is very well lined, and will serve both for beauty and convenience. Mr. Laidlaw engages to come back to dinner, and finish two or three more pages. Met my agreeable and lady-like neighbour, Mrs. Brewster, on my pony, and I was actually ashamed to be seen by her.

"Sir Dennis Brand, and on so poor a steed."[421]

I believe detestable folly of this kind is the very last that leaves us. One would have thought I ought to have little vanity at this time o' day; but it is an abiding appurtenance of the old Adam, and I write for penance what, like a fool, I actually felt.

_January_ 19.--Wrote on by Mr. Laidlaw's assistance. Things go bobbishly enough; we have a good deal finished before dinner. Henry Scott comes to dine with me _vis-à-vis_, and we have a grand dish of politics. The friends of old Scotland want but a signal. A certain great lawyer says that if Sir W.S. wrote another _Malachi_ it would set more men on fire than a dozen associations. This almost tempts me. But the canny lad says moreover that to appeal to national partiality, _i.e._ that you should call on Scotsmen to act like Scotsmen, is unfair, and he would be sorry it was known he, late and future placeman, should encourage such paw-paw doings. Yet if Sir W.S. could be got to stand forlorn hope, the legal gentleman would suggest, etc. etc. Suggest and be d--d. Sir W.S. knows when to [doff] his bonnet, and when to cock it in the face of all and sundry. Moreover, he will not be made a cat's-paw of, look you now.

_January_ 20.--Wrought all morning; a monstrous packet of letters at mid-day. Borrow honest Laidlaw's fingers in the evening. I hope his pay will recompense him: it is better than "grieve-ing" or playing Triptolemus.[422] Should be, if I am hard-working, 100 guineas, which, with his house, cow, and free rent, would save, I believe, some painful thoughts to him and his amiable wife and children. We will see how the matter fudges. Almost finished the first volume.

_January_ 21.--James Ballantyne in ecstasies at our plan of an amanuensis. I myself am sensible that my fingers begin to stammer--that is, to write one word instead of another very often. I impute this to fancy, the terrible agency of which is too visible in my illness, and it encourages me to hope the fatal warning is yet deferred. I feel lighter by a million ton since I made this discovery. If I can dictate freely, and without hesitation, my fear to speak at the meeting about the road was vain terror, and so _Andiamo Caracci._ Wrote some letters this afternoon.

_January_ 22.--Mr. Laidlaw rather late of coming. One of his daughters has been ill, and he is an approved physician. Pity when one so gifted employs his skill on himself and family for all patients. We got on, however, to page 46.

_January_ 23.--I wrought a little to-day. Walked to Chiefswood, or rather from it, as far only as Habbie's Howe. Came home, cold indeed, but hearty. Slept after dinner. I think the peep, real or imaginary, at the gates of death has given me firmness not to mind little afflictions. I have jumbled this and the preceding day strangely, when I went to Chiefswood and Huntly Burn. I thought this a week-day.

_January_ 24.--Worked with Mr. Laidlaw, and, as the snow was on the ground, did so without intermission, which must be sinking to the spirits. Held on, however.

_January_ 25.--Same drizzling waste, rendering my footing insecure, and leaving me no refuge but in sitting at home and working till one o'clock. Then retired upon the Sheriff Court processes. Bran,[423] poor fellow, lies yawning at my feet, and cannot think what is become of the daily scamper, which is all his master's inability affords him. This grieves me, by calling back the days of old. But I may call them as I may,

"Youth winna return, nor the days of lang syne."

_January_ 26.--I have Skene and Mr. M'Culloch of Ardwell, to the relief of my spirits and the diminishing of my time. Mr. Laidlaw joined us at dinner.

Bitter cold.

_January_ 27.--So fagged with my frozen vigils that I slept till after ten. When I lose the first two hours in the morning I can seldom catch them again during the whole day.

A friendly visit from Ebenezer Clarkson of Selkirk, a medical gentleman in whose experience and ingenuity I have much confidence, as well as his personal regard for myself. He is quite sensible of the hesitation of speech of which I complain, and thinks it arises from the stomach. Recommends the wild mustard as an aperient. But the brightest ray of hope is the chance that I may get some mechanical aid made by Fortune at Broughton Street, which may enable me to mount a pony with ease, and to walk without torture. This would, indeed, be almost a restoration of my youth, at least of a green old age full of enjoyment. The shutting one out from the face of living nature is almost worse than sudden death.

_January_ 28.--I wrote with Laidlaw. It does not work clear; I do not know why. The plot is, nevertheless, a good plot, and full of expectation.[424] But there is a cloud over me, I think, and interruptions are frequent. I creep on, however.

_January_ 29.--Much in the same way as yesterday, rather feeling than making way. Mr. Williams and his brother came in after dinner. Welcome both; yet the day was not happy. It consumed me an afternoon, which, though well employed, and pleasantly, had the disagreeable effect of my being kept from useful work.

_January_ 30.--Snow deep, which makes me alter my purpose of going to town to-morrow. For to-day, my friends must amuse themselves as they can.

_January_ 31 _[to February_ 9, _Edinburgh_].--Retain my purpose, however, and set out for Edinburgh alone--that is, no one but my servant. The snow became impassable, and in Edinburgh I remain immovably fixed for ten days--that is, till Wednesday--never once getting out of doors, save to dinner, when I went and returned in a sedan chair. I commenced my quarantine in Mackenzie's Hotel,[425] where I was deadly cold, and it was tolerably noisy. The second day Mr. Cadell made a point of my coming to his excellent house, where I had no less excellent an apartment and the most kind treatment--- that is, not making a show of me, for which I was in but bad tune.[426] The physical folks, Abercrombie and Ross, bled me with cupping-glasses, purged me confoundedly, and restricted me of all creature comforts. But they did me good, as I am sure they meant to do sincerely; and I got rid of a giddy feeling, which I have been plagued with, and have certainly returned much better. I did not neglect my testamentary affairs. I executed my last will, leaving Walter burdened, by his own choice, with £1000 to Sophia, and another received at her marriage, and £2000 to Anne, and the same to Charles. He is to advance them money if they want it; if not, to pay them interest, which is his own choice, otherwise I would have sold the books and rattletraps. I have made provisions for clearing my estate by my publications, should it be possible; and should that prove possible, from the time of such clearance being effected, to be a fund available to all my children who shall be alive or leave representatives. My bequests must, many of them, seem hypothetical; but the thing, being uncertain, must be so stated.

Besides, during the unexpected stay in town, I employed Mr. Fortune, an ingenious artist,[427] to make a machine to assist my lame leg,--an odd enough purchase to be made at this time of day, yet who would not purchase ease? I dined with the Lord Chief Commissioner, with the Skenes twice, with Lord Medwyn, and was as happy as anxiety about my daughter would permit me.

The appearance of the streets was most desolate: the hackney-coaches, with four horses, strolling about like ghosts, the foot-passengers few but the lowest of the people.

I wrote a good deal of _Count Robert_, yet I cannot tell why my pen stammers egregiously, and I write horridly incorrect. I long to have friend Laidlaw's assistance.

FOOTNOTES:

[410] _Hudibras_.

[411] John Swanston, a forester at Abbotsford, who did all he could to replace Tom Purdie.--_Life_, vol. x. p. 66.

[412] Dr. Ferguson, Sir Adam's father, died in 1816.--See _Misc. Prose Works_, vol. xix. pp. 331-33.

[413] See _Measure for Measure_, Act II. Sc. 1.

[414] _Æneid_ v. 194-7: thus rendered in English by Professor Conington:--

'Tis not the palm that Mnestheus seeks: No hope of Victory fires his cheeks: Yet, O that thought!--but conquer they To whom great Neptune wills the day: Not to be last make that your aim, And triumph by averting shame.

[415] _King Richard the Third_, Act IV. Sc. 2.

[416] Mr. G.P.R. James, author of _Richelieu_, etc. He afterwards took Maxpopple for the season.

[417] Mr. Skene tells us that when No. 39 Castle Street was "displenished" in 1826, Scott sent him the full-length portrait of himself by Raeburn, now at Abbotsford, saying that he did not hesitate to claim his protection for the picture, which was threatened to be paraded under the hammer of the auctioneer, and he felt that his interposition to turn aside that buffet might admit of being justified. "As a piece of successful art, many might fancy the acquisition, but for the sake of the original he knew no refuge where it was likely to find a truer welcome. The picture accordingly remained many years in my possession, but when his health had begun to break, and the plan of his going abroad was proposed, I thought it would be proper to return the picture, for which purpose I had a most successful copy made of it, an absolute facsimile, for when the two were placed beside each, other it was almost impossible to determine which was the original and which the copy."--_Reminiscences_. Thus forestalling the wish expressed in the affecting letter now given, which belongs to this day. See _ante_, vol. i. p. 136 _n_.

"MY DEAR SKENE,--I have had no very pleasant news to send you, as I know it will give Mrs. Skene and you pain to know that I am suffering under a hundred little ailments which have greatly encroached upon the custom of the season which I used to take. On this I could say much, but it is better to leave alone what must be said with painful feeling, and you would be vexed with reading.

"One thing I will put to rights with all others respecting my little personal affairs. I am putting [in order] this house with what it contains, and as Walter will probably be anxious to have a memorial of my better days, I intend to beg you and my dear Mrs. Skene ... to have it [the picture] copied by such an artist as you should approve of, to supply the blank which must then be made on your hospitable walls with the shadow of a shade. If the opportunity should occur of copying the picture to your mind, I will be happy to have the copy as soon as possible. You must not think that I am nervous or foolishly apprehensive that I take these precautions. They are necessary and right, and if one puts off too long, we sometimes are unfit for the task when we desire to take it up....

"When the weather becomes milder, I hope Mrs. Skene and you, and some of the children, will come out to brighten the chain of friendship with your truly faithful,

WALTER SCOTT.

"ABBOTSFORD, 16 _January_ 1831."

[418] Sir W. alludes to Mrs. Piozzi's Tale of _The Three Warnings_.--J.G.L.

[419] _Macbeth_, Act I. Sc. 3.

[420] Eccles. xii. 3.

[421] Crabbe's _Borough_, Letter xiii.--J.G.L.

[422] See _Pirate_.

[423] The deer-hound Bran which was presented by Macpherson of Cluny; Nimrod was Glengarry's gift.--See letter to Miss Edgeworth, printed in _Life_, vol. ix. p. 345.

[424] I _Henry IV_., Act II. Sc. 3.

[425] No. 1 Castle Street.

[426] "His host perceived that he was unfit for any company but the quietest, and had sometimes one old friend, Mr. Thomson, Mr. Clerk, or Mr. Skene to dinner, but no more. He seemed glad to see them, but they all observed him with pain. He never took the lead in conversation, and often remained altogether silent. In the mornings he wrote usually for several hours at _Count Robert_; and Mr. Cadell remembers in particular, that on Ballantyne's reminding him that a motto was wanted for one of the chapters already finished, he looked out for a moment at the gloomy weather, and penned these lines--

'The storm increases--'tis no sunny shower,
Foster'd in the moist breast of March or April,
Or such as parched summer cools his lips with.
Heaven's windows are flung wide; the inmost deeps
Call in hoarse greeting one upon another;
On comes the flood in all its foaming horrors,
And where's the dyke shall stop it?'"--_The Deluge--a Poem_.

--_Life_, vol. x. p. 37.

[427] A skilful mechanist, who, by a clever piece of handiwork, gave Sir Walter great relief, but only for a brief period.--_Life_, vol. x, p. 38.

FEBRUARY.

_February_ 9,_[Abbotsford]._--A heavy and most effective thaw coming on I got home about five at night, and found the haugh covered with water, dogs, pigs, cows, to say nothing of human beings, all who slept at the offices in danger of being drowned. They came up to the mansion-house about midnight, with such various clamour, that Anne thought the house was attacked by Captain Swing and all the Radicals.

_February_ 10.--I set to work with Mr. Laidlaw, and had after that a capital ride; my pony, little used, was somewhat frisky, but I rode on to Huntly Burn. Began my diet on my new régime, and like it well, especially porridge to supper. It is wonderful how old tastes rise.

_February_ 11.--Wrought again to-day, and John Swanston walked with me. Wrote many letters, and sent copy to Ballantyne. Rode as usual. It is well enough to ride every day, but confoundedly tiresome to write it down.

_February_ 13.--I did not ask down Mr. Laidlaw, thinking it fair to spare his Sunday. I had a day of putting to rights, a disagreeable work which must be done. I took the occasion to tell Mr. Cadell that _Malachi_ will break forth again; but I will not make a point of it with him. I do not fear there will be as many to strike up as to strike down, and I have a strong notion we may gain the day. I have a letter from the Duchess of Wellington, asking a copy of Melville's Memoirs. She shall have it if it were my last.

_February_ 14.--I had hardly begun my letter to Mr. Cadell than I began also to "pull in resolution."[428] I considered that I had no means of retreat; and that in all my sober moments, meaning my unpassionate ones, for the doctors have taken from me the means of producing Dutch courage, I have looked on political writing as a false step, and especially now when I have a good deal at stake. So, upon the whole, I cancelled the letter announcing the publication. If this was actually meanness it is a foible nobody knows of. Anne set off for Edinburgh after breakfast. Poor girl, she is very nervous. I wrote with Mr. L. till one--then had a walk till three--then wrote this diary till four. Must try to get something for Mr. Laidlaw, for I am afraid I am twaddling. I do not think my head is weakened, but a strange vacillation makes me suspect. Is it not thus that men begin to fail, becoming, as it were, infirm of purpose,

"... that way madness lies; let me shun that:
No more of that ..."[429]

Yet, why be a child about it? what must be, will be.

_February_ 15.--I wrote and corrected through the long day till one o'clock; then rode out as far as Dr. Scott's, and called on him. Got a fresh dose of proofs at Mathieson's, and returned home. At nine o'clock at night had a card from Miss Bell [Maclachlan], wishing to speak to me about some Highland music. Wrote for answer I knew nothing of the matter, but would be happy to see Mrs. and Miss Bell to breakfast. I had a letter of introduction by Robert Chambers, which I declined, being then unwell. But as Trotter of Braid said, "The ladies maun come."

_February_ 16.--Mrs. and Miss Bell Maclachlan of the West Highlands, mother and daughter, made their way to me to breakfast. I did not wish to see them, being strangers; but she is very pretty--that is, the daughter--and enthusiastic, and that is always flattering to an old gentleman. She wishes to have words to Celtic melodies, and I have promised her some, to the air of Crochallan, and incline to do her good, perhaps, to the extent of getting her words from Lord Francis Leveson Gower, Lockhart, and one or two others. We parted, she pleased with my willing patronage, and I with an uncommon handsome countenance she showed me.

This detained Mr. Laidlaw _re infecta_, and before I had written a page the pony came to the door; but wrote something after dinner.

_February_ 17 and 18.--We had the usual course of food, study, and exercise in the forenoon. Was extremely sleepy in the afternoon, which made, I fear, but bad work. We progress, however. In riding met Sir Adam Ferguson, and asked him and his brother the Colonel to dinner to-morrow. Wrote in the meantime as usual.

_February_ 19.--Plagued by the stay for leg starting a screw bolt, which is very inconvenient. Sent off, this morning, proofs as far as end of first volume, and 20 manuscript pages, equal to about a quarter of the second. Is it good or not? I cannot say. I think it better as it goes on; and so far so good. I am certain I have written worse abomination, as John Ballantyne, poor fellow, used to say.

_February_ 20.--Wrote five pages this morning; then rode out to the hill and looked at some newly planted, rather transplanted, trees. Mr. Laidlaw gone for the day. I trust I shall have proofs to correct. In the meantime I may suck my paws and prepare some copy, or rather assemble the raw material.

_February_ 21.--I made up parcels by mail-coach and Blucher to go to-morrow--second volume _Redgauntlet_. At one fetched a walk through wet and dry, looking at the ravages of the late flood. After I came in, till two hours after tea-time, busied with the Sheriff Court processes, which I have nearly finished. After this I will lounge over my annotating. The _Tales of the Crusades_ come next.

_February_ 22.--Wrought with Mr. L. from ten to three, then took the pony carriage, with the purpose of going to Chiefswood, but a heavy squall came on with snow, so we put about-ship and returned. Read Lyttelton's _History of England_ to get some notes for _Crusaders_, vol. i. After dinner Mr. Laidlaw from six to eight. Sent off six pages.

_February_ 23, 24, 25.--These three days I can hardly be said to have varied from my ordinary.

Rose at seven, dressed before eight, wrote letters, or did any little business till a quarter past nine. Then breakfast. Mr. Laidlaw comes from ten till one. Then take the pony, and ride _quantum mutatus_ two or three miles, John Swanston walking by my bridle-rein lest I fall off. Come home about three or four. Then to dinner on a single plain dish and half a tumbler, or by'r lady three-fourths of a tumbler, of whisky and water. Then sit till six o'clock, when enter Mr. Laidlaw again, and work commonly till eight. After this, work usually alone till half-past nine, then sup on porridge and milk, and so to bed. The work is half done. If any [one] asks what time I take to think on the composition, I might say, in one point of view, it was seldom five minutes out of my head the whole day. In another light, it was never the serious subject of consideration at all, for it never occupied my thoughts entirely for five minutes together, except when I was dictating to Mr. Laidlaw.

_February_ 26.--Went through the same routine, only, being Saturday, Mr. Laidlaw does not come in the evening. I think there is truth in the well-known phrase, _Aurora musis amica_. I always have a visit of invention between six and seven--that is, if anything has been plaguing me, in the way of explanation, I find it in my head when I wake. I have need of it to-night.

_February_ 27.--Being Saturday, no Mr. Laidlaw came yesterday evening, nor to-day, being Sunday. Truth is, I begin to fear I was working too hard, and gave myself to putting things in order, and working at the _Magnum_, and reading stupid German novels in hopes a thought will strike me when I am half occupied with other things. In fact, I am like the servant in the _Clandestine Marriage,_[430] who assures his mistress he always watches best with his eyes shut.

_February_ 28.--Past ten, and Mr. Laidlaw, the model of a clerk in other respects, is not come yet. He has never known the value of time, so is not quite accurate in punctuality; but that, I hope, will come if I can drill him to it without hurting him. I think I hear him coming. I am like the poor wizard who is first puzzled how to raise the devil and then how to employ him. But _vogue la galère_. Worked till one, then walked with great difficulty and pain till half-past two. I think I can hardly stir without my pony, which is a sad pity. Mr. Laidlaw dines here.

FOOTNOTES:

[428] _Macbeth_, Act V. Sc. 5.

[429] _Lear_, Act III. Sc. 4.

[430] Colman the elder.

MARCH.

_March_ 1, 2, 3.--All these three days I wrote forenoon and fagged afternoon. Kept up the ball indifferent well, but began to tire on the third, and suspected that I was flat--a dreary suspicion, not easily chased away when once it takes root.

_March_ 4.--Laid aside the novel, and began with vigour a review of Robson's Essay on Heraldry;[431] but I missed some quotations which I could not get on without. I gave up, and took such a rash ride nowadays. Returned home, and found Colonel Russell there on a visit. Then we had dinner, and afterwards the making up this miserable Journal.

_March_ 5.--I have a letter from our member, Whytbank, adjuring me to assist the gentlemen of the county with an address against the Reform Bill, which menaces them with being blended with Peeblesshire, and losing of consequence one half of their franchise. Mr. Pringle conjures me not to be very nice in choosing my epithets. Mr. Pringle, Torwoodlee, comes over and speaks to the same purpose, adding, it will be the greatest service I can do the county, etc. This, in a manner, drives me out of a resolution to keep myself clear of politics, and "let them fight dog, fight bear." But I am too easy to be persuaded to bear a hand. The young Duke of Buccleuch comes to visit me also; so I promised to shake my duds and give them a cast of my calling, fall back, fall edge.

_March_ 7-10.--In these four days I drew up, with much anxiety, an address reprobatory of the Bill, both with respect to Selkirkshire, and in its general purport. I was not mealy-mouthed, and those who heard the beginning could hardly avoid listening to the end. It was certainly in my best style, and would have made a deal of noise. From the uncompromising style it would have attracted attention. Mr. Laidlaw, though he is on t'other side on the subject, thinks it the best thing I ever wrote; and I myself am happy to find that it cannot be said to smell of the apoplexy. The pointed passages were, on the contrary, clever and well put. But it was too declamatory, too much like a pamphlet, and went far too generally into opposition to please the country gentlemen, who are timidly inclined to dwell on their own grievances rather than the public wrongs.

_March_ 11.--This day we had our meeting at Selkirk. I found Borthwickbrae (late member) had sent the form of an address, which was finished by Mr. Andrew Lang.[432] It was the reverse of mine in every respect. It was short, and to the point. It only contained a remonstrance against the incorporation with [Peebles]shire, and left it to be inferred that they approved the Bill in other respects.[433] As I saw that it met the ideas of the meeting (six in number) better by far than such an address as mine, I instantly put it in my pocket. But I endeavoured to add to their complaint of a private wrong a general clause, stating their sense of the hazard of passing a Bill full of such violent innovations at once on the public. But though Harden, Alva, and Torwoodlee voted for this measure, it was refused by the rest of the meeting, to my disappointment; since in its present state it will not be attended to, and is in fact too milk-and-water to attract notice. I am, however, personally out of the scrape; I was a fool to stir such a mess of skimmed milk with so honourable an action.[434] If some of the gentlemen of the press get hold of this story, what would they make of it, and how little would I care! One thing is clear: it gives me a right to decline future interference, and let the world wag, _Sessa_.[435]

_March_ 12.--Wrote the history of my four days' labour in vain to Sandy Pringle, Whytbank, and so _transeat_ with _cæteris erroribus_. I only gave way to one jest. A ratcatcher was desirous to come and complete his labours in my house, and I, who thought he only talked and laughed with the servants, recommended him to go to the head courts and meetings of freeholders, where he would find rats in plenty.

_March_ 13.--I have finally arranged a thorny transaction. Mr. Cadell has an interest in some of the Novels, amounting to one-half; but the following are entirely my own, viz.:--

St. Ronan's Well, 3 vols. Tales of Crusaders, 4 " First Chronicles, 2 " Anne of Geierstein, 3 " Redgauntlet, 3 " Woodstock, 3 " Second Chronicles, 3 " Count Robert, 3 "

In all, twenty-four volumes, which will begin printing after _Quentin Durward_, and concludes the year 1831. For half the property he proposes to pay 6000 guineas on 2d February 1831 [1832?]. I think that with this sum, and others coming in, I may reduce the debt to £45,000.

But I do not see clearly enough through this affair to accept this offer. _First_, I cannot see that there is wisdom in engaging Mr. Cadell in deep speculations, unless they served him very much. I am, in this respect, a burnt child: I have not forgotten the fire, or rather the furnace. _Second_, I think the property worth more, if publicly sold. _Third_, I cannot see any reasons which should render it advantageous for me to sell one half of this property, it being admittedly at the same [time] highly judicious to keep the other half. This does not fadge. _Fourth_, As to the immediate command of the money, I am not pressed for it, not having any advantage by paying it a year or two sooner or later. The actual proceeds of the sales will come in about 1834, and I daresay will not be far behind in amount the sum of £6000.

In short, I will not sell on a rainy day, as our proverb says. I have communicated my resolution to Cadell, to whom, no doubt, it will be a disappointment, for which I am sorry, but cannot help it.