JULY.
"Up in the morning"s no for me."[230]
Yet here I am up at five--no horses come from the North Ferry yet.
"O Mr. Mitch.e.l.l, Mr. Mitch.e.l.l, Your promises and time keep st.i.tch ill."
_July_ I, _[Edinburgh]._--Got home, however, by nine, and went to the Parliament House, where we were detained till four o"clock. Miss ------ dined with us, a professed lion-huntress, who travels the country to rouse the peaceful beasts out of their lair, and insists on being hand and glove with all the leonine race. She is very plain, besides frightfully red-haired, and out-Lydia-ing even my poor friend Lydia White. An awful visitation! I think I see her with javelin raised and buskined foot, a second Diana, roaming the hills of Westmoreland in quest of the lakers. Would to G.o.d she were there or anywhere but here!
Affectation is a painful thing to witness, and this poor woman has the bad taste to think direct flattery is the way to make her advances to friendship and intimacy.
_July_ 2.--I believe I was cross yesterday. I am at any rate very ill to-day with a rheumatic headache, and a still more vile hypochondriacal affection, which fills my head with pain, my heart with sadness, and my eyes with tears. I do not wonder at the awful feelings which visited men less educated and less firm than I may call myself. It is a most hang-dog cast of feeling, but it may be chased away by study or by exercise. The last I have always found most successful, but the first is most convenient. I wrought therefore, and endured all this forenoon, being a Teind Wednesday. I am now in such a state that I would hardly be surprised at the worst news which could be brought to me. And all this without any rational cause why to-day should be sadder than yesterday.
Two things to lighten my spirits--First, Cadell comes to a.s.sure me that the stock of 12mo novels is diminished from 3800, which was the quant.i.ty in the publishers" hands in March 1827, to 600 or 700. This argues gallant room for the publication of the New Series. Second, said Cadell is setting off straight for London to set affairs a-going. If I have success in this, it will greatly a.s.sist in extricating my affairs.
My aches of the heart terminated in a cruel aching of the head--rheumatic, I suppose. But Sir Adam and Clerk came to dinner, and laughed and talked the sense of pain and oppression away. We cannot at times work ourselves into a gay humour, any more than we can tickle ourselves into a fit of laughter; foreign agency is necessary. My huntress of lions again dined with us. I have subscribed to her Alb.u.m, and done what was civil.
_July_ 3.--Corrected proofs in the morning, and wrote a little. I was forced to crop vol. i. as thirty pages too long; there is the less to write behind. We were kept late at the Court, and when I came out I bethought me, like Christian in the Castle of Giant Despair, "Wherefore should I walk along the broiling and stifling streets when I have a little key in my bosom which can open any lock in Princes Street Walks, and be thus on the Castle banks, rocks, and trees in a few minutes?" I made use of my key accordingly, and walked from the Castle Hill down to Wallace"s Tower,[231] and thence to the west end of Princes Street, through a scene of grandeur and beauty perhaps unequalled, whether the foreground or distant view is considered--all down hill, too. Foolish never to think of this before. I chatted with the girls a good while after dinner, but wrote a trifle when we had tea.
_July_ 4.--The two Annes set off to Abbotsford, though the weather was somewhat lowering for an open carriage, but the day cleared up finely.
Hamilton is unwell, so we had a long hearing of his on our hands. It was four ere I got home, but I had taken my newly discovered path by rock, bush, and ruin. I question if Europe has such another path. We owe this to the taste of James Skene. But I must dress to go to Dr. Hope"s, who makes _chere exquise_, and does not understand being kept late.
_July_ 5.--Sat.u.r.day, corrected proofs and wrought hard. Went out to dinner at Oxenfoord Castle, and returned in the company of Lord Alloway, Chief Baron, Clerk, etc., and Mr. Bouverie, the English Commissioner.
_July_ 6.--A day of hard work. The second volume is now well advanced--wellnigh one half. Dined alone, and pursued my course after dinner. Seven pages were finished. Solitude"s a fine thing for work, but then you must lie by like a spider, till you collect materials to continue your web. Began Simond"s Switzerland--clever and intelligent, but rather conceited, as the manner of an American Frenchman. I hope to knock something out of him though.
_July_ 7.--Williams seems in uncertainty again, and I can"t guess what he will be at. Surely it is a misery to be so indecisive; he will certainly gain the ill word of both parties and might have had the good word of all; and, indeed, deserves it. We received his resignation to-day, but if the King"s College are disposed to thrive, they will keep eyes on this very able man.
_July_ 8.--Hard work in the Court, the sederunts turn long and burthensome. I fear they will require some abridgment of vacation.
[_From July_ 8, 1828, _to January_ 10, 1829, _there are no entries in the Journal_.]
FOOTNOTES:
[230] Burns"s song.
[231] Now called Wellhouse Tower.
1829.
JANUARY.
Having omitted to carry on my Diary for two or three days, I lost heart to make it up, and left it unfilled for many a month and day. During this period nothing has happened worth particular notice. The same occupations, the same amus.e.m.e.nts, the same occasional alternations of spirits, gay or depressed, the same absence of all sensible or rational cause for the one or the other. I half grieve to take up my pen, and doubt if it is worth while to record such an infinite quant.i.ty of nothing, but hang it! I hate to be beat, so here goes for better behaviour.
_January_ 10.--I resume my task at Abbotsford. We are here alone, except Lockhart, on a flying visit. Morritt, his niece, Sir James Stuart, Skene, and an occasional friend or two, have been my guests since 31st December. I cannot say I have been happy, for the feeling of increasing weakness in my lame leg is a great affliction. I walk now with pain and difficulty at all times, and it sinks my soul to think how soon I may be altogether a disabled cripple. I am tedious to my friends, and I doubt the sense of it makes me fretful.
Everything else goes off well enough. My cash affairs are clearing, and though last year was an expensive one, I have been paying debt. Yet I have a dull contest before me which will probably outlast my life. If well maintained, however, it will be an honourable one, and if the _Magnum Opus_ succeed, it will afford me some repose.
_January_ 11.--I did not write above a page yesterday; most weary, stale, and unprofitable have been my labours. Received a letter I suppose from Mad. T.----, proposing a string of historical subjects not proper for my purpose. People will not consider that a thing may already be so well told in history, that romance ought not in prudence to meddle with it.
The ground covered with snow, which, by slipperiness and the pain occasioned by my lameness, renders walking unpleasant.
_January_ 12.--This is the third day I have not walked out, pain and lameness being the cause. This bodes very ill for my future life. I made a search yesterday and to-day for letters of Lord Byron to send to Tom Moore, but I could only find two. I had several others, and am shocked at missing them. The one which he sent me with a silver cup I regret particularly. It was stolen out of the cup itself by some vile inhospitable scoundrel, for a servant would not have thought such a theft worth while.
My spirits are low, yet I wot not why. I have been writing to my sons.
Walter"s majority was like to be reduced, but is spared for the present.
Charles is going on well I trust at the Foreign Office, so I hope all is well.
Loitered out a useless day, half arranging half disarranging books and papers, and packing the things I shall want. _Der Abschiedstag ist da_.
_January_ 13.--The day of return to Edinburgh is come. I don"t know why, but I am more happy at the change than usual. I am not working hard, and it is what I ought to do, and must do. Every hour of laziness cries fie upon me. But there is a perplexing sinking of the heart which one cannot always overcome. At such times I have wished myself a clerk, quill-driving for twopence per page. You have at least application, and that is all that is necessary, whereas unless your lively faculties are awake and propitious, your application will do you as little good as if you strained your sinews to lift Arthur"s Seat.
_January_ 14, [_Edinburgh_].--Got home last night after a freezing journey. This morning I got back some of the last copy, and tugged as hard as ever did soutar to make ends meet. Then I will be reconciled to my task, which at present disgusts me. Visited Lady Jane, then called on Mr. Robison and instructed him to call a meeting of the Council of the Royal Society, as Mr. Knox proposes to read an essay on some dissections. A bold proposal truly from one who has had so lately the boldness of trading so deep in human flesh! I will oppose his reading in the present circ.u.mstances if I should stand alone, but I hope he will be wrought upon to withdraw his essay or postpone it at least. It is very bad taste to push himself forward just now. Lockhart dined with us, which made the evening a pleasant but an idle one. Well! I must rouse myself.
"Awake! Arise, or be for ever fallen."[232]
_January_ 15.--Day began with beggars as usual, and John Nicolson has not sense to keep them out. I never yield, however, to this importunity, thinking it wrong that what I can spare to meritorious poverty, of which I hear and see too much, should be diverted by impudent importunity. I was detained at the Parliament House till nearly three by the great case concerning prescription, Maule _v_. Maule.[233] This was made up to me by hearing an excellent opinion from Lord Corehouse, with a curious discussion _in apicibus juris._ I disappointed Graham[234] of a sitting for my picture.
I went to the Council of the Royal Society, which was convened at my request, to consider whether we ought to hear a paper on anatomical subjects read by Mr. Knox, whose name has of late been deeply implicated in a criminal prosecution against certain wretches, who had murdered many persons and sold their bodies to professors of the anatomical science. Some thought that our declining to receive the paper would be a declaration unfavourable to Dr. Knox. I think hearing it before Mr. Knox has made any defence (as he is stated to have in view) would be an intimation of our preference of the cause of science to those of morality and common humanity. Mr. Knox"s friends undertook to deal with him about suffering the paper to be omitted for the present, while _adhuc coram judice lis est_.[235]
_January_ 16.--Nothing on the roll to-day, so I did not go to the Parliament House, but f.a.gged at my desk till two.
Dr. Ross called to relieve me of a corn, which, though my lameness needs no addition, had tormented me vilely. I again met the Royal Society Council. Dr. Knox consents to withdraw his paper, or rather suffers the reading to be postponed. There is some great error in the law on the subject. If it was left to itself many bodies would be imported from France and Ireland, and doubtless many would be found in our hospitals for the service of the anatomical science. But the total and severe exclusion of foreign supplies of this kind raises the price of the "subjects," as they are called technically, to such a height, that wretches are found willing to break into "the b.l.o.o.d.y house of life,"[236] merely to supply the anatomists" table. The law which, as a deeper sentence on the guilt of murder, declares that the body of the convicted criminal should be given up to anatomy, is certainly not without effect, for criminals have been known to shrink from that part of the sentence which seems to affect them more than the doom of death itself, with all its terrors here and hereafter. On the other hand, while this idea of the infamy attending the exposition of the person is thus recognised by the law, it is impossible to adopt regulations which would effectually prevent such horrid crimes as the murder of vagrant wretches who can be s.n.a.t.c.hed from society without their being missed, as in the case of the late conspiracy. For instance, if it was now to be enacted, as seems reasonable, that persons dying in hospitals and almshouses, who die without their friends claiming their remains, should be given up to the men of science, this would be subjecting poverty to the penalty of these atrocious criminals whom law distinguishes by the heaviest posthumous disgrace which it can inflict. Even cultivated minds revolt from the exposure on an anatomical table, when the case is supposed to be that of one who is dear to them. I should, I am conscious, be willing that I myself should be dissected in public, if doing so could produce any advantage to society, but when I think on relations and friends being rent from the grave the case is very different, and I would fight knee-deep to prevent or punish such an exposure. So inconsistent we are all upon matters of this nature.
I dined quietly at home with the girls, and wrote after dinner.
_January_ 17.--Nothing in the roll; corrected proofs, and went off at 12 o"clock in the Hamilton stage to William Lockhart"s at Auchinrath. My companions, Mr. Livingstone, the clergyman of Camnethan, a Bailie Hamilton, the king of trumps, I am told, in the Burgh of Hamilton, and a Mr. Davie Martin _qui gaudet equis et canibus_. Got to Auchinrath by six, and met Lord Douglas,[237] his brother, Captain Douglas, E.N., John G-. Lockhart also, who had a large communication from Duke of W. upon the subject of the bullion. The Duke scouts the economist"s ideas about paper credit, after the proposition that all men shall be ent.i.tled to require gold.
_January_ 18.--We went, the two Lockharts and I, to William"s new purchase of Milton. We found on his ground a cottage, where a man called Greenshields,[238] a sensible, powerful-minded person, had at twenty-eight (rather too late a week)[239] taken up the art of sculpture. He had disposed of the person of the King most admirably, according to my poor thoughts, and had attained a wonderful expression of ease and majesty at the same time. He was desirous of engaging on Burns" Jolly Beggars, which I dissuaded. Caricature is not the object of sculpture.
We went to Milton on as fine a day as could consist with snow on the ground. The situation is eminently beautiful; a fine promontory round which the Clyde makes a magnificent bend. We fixed on a situation where the sitting-room should command the upper view, and, with an ornamental garden, I think it may be made the prettiest place in Scotland.
_January_ 19.--Posted to Edinburgh with John Lockhart. We stopped at Allanton to see a tree transplanted, which was performed with great ease. Sir Henry is a sad c.o.xcomb, and lifted beyond the solid earth by the effect of his book"s success. But the book well deserves it.[240] He is in practice particularly anxious to keep the roots of the tree near the surface, and only covers them with about a foot of earth.
_Note_.--Lime rubbish dug in among the roots of ivy encourages it much.
The operation delayed us three hours, so it was seven o"clock before we reached our dinner and a good fire in Shandwick Place, and we were wellnigh frozen to death. During this excursion I walked very ill--with more pain, in fact, than I ever remember to have felt--and, even leaning on John Lockhart, could hardly get on. _Baad that, vara baad_--it might be the severe weather though, and the numbing effect of the sitting in the carriage. Be it what it will, I can"t help myself.
_January_ 20.--I had little to do at the Court, and returned home soon.