[394] See _Winter"s Tale_, Act IV. Sc. 2.
[395] See _ante_, January 15, 1828, p. 111. Mr. Mackenzie of Portmore died in September 1830, when Sir Walter wrote Mr. Skene the following letter:--
"DEAR SKENE,--I observe from the papers that our invaluable friend is no more. I have reason to think, that as I surmised when I saw him last, the interval has been a melancholy one, at least to those who had to watch the progress. I never expected to see his kind face more, after I took leave of him in Charlotte Square; yet the certainty that such must be the case is still a painful shock, as I can never hope again to meet, during the remaining span of my own life, a friend in whom high talents for the business of life were more happily mingled with all those affections which form the dearest part of human intercourse. In that respect I believe his like hardly is to be found. I hope Mrs. Skene and you will make my a.s.surance of deep sympathy, of which they know it is expressed by a friend of poor Colin of fifty years" standing.
"I hope my young friend, his son, will keep his father"s example before his eyes. His best friend cannot wish him a better model.
"I am just setting off to the West for a long-promised tour of a week. I shall be at Abbotsford after Monday, 27th current, and I hope Mrs. Skene and you, with some of our young friends, will do us the pleasure to come here for a few days. We see how separations may happen among friends, and should not neglect the opportunity of being together while we can.
Besides, _entre nous_, it is time to think what is to be done about the Society, as the time of my retirement draws nigh, and I am determined, at whatever loss, not to drag out the last sands of my life in that sand-cart of a place, the Parliament House. I think it hurt poor Colin.
This is, however, subject for future consideration, as I have not breathed a syllable about resigning the Chair to any one, but it must soon follow as a matter of course.[C]
"Should you think of writing to let me know how the distressed family are, you may direct, during the beginning of next week, to Drumlanrig, Thornhill, Dumfriesshire.
"My kind love attends my dear Mrs. Skene, girls, boys, and all the family, and I am, always yours,
"WALTER SCOTT.
"ABBOTSFORD, _18th September_ [1830]."
[C] Sir Walter had been President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh for some years; his resignation was not accepted, and he retained the office until he died.
[396] _Much Ado about Nothing_, Act III. Sc. 5.
[397] 1 _King Henry IV._, Act III. Sc. 1.
[398] The biography here spoken of was not published.
[399] Sir Walter had seats placed at suitable distances between the house and Chiefswood.
[400] _t.i.tus Andronicus_, Act IV. Sc. 2.
[401] For an account of these "miracles" see _Peace in Believing_--a memoir of Isabella Campbell of Fernicarry. Roseneath, 8vo, 1829.
[402] _Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft_, addressed to J.G.
Lockhart, Esq., was published before the end of the year in Murray"s _Family Library_.
[403] _School for Scandal_.
SEPTEMBER
_September_ 5.--In spite of resolution I have left my Diary for some weeks, I cannot tell why. We have had the usual number of travelling Counts and Countesses, Yankees male and female, and a Yankee-Doodle-Dandy into the bargain, a smart young Virginia man. We have had friends of our own also, the Miss Ardens, young Mrs. Morritt and Anne Morritt, most agreeable visitors.[404] Cadell came out here yesterday with his horn filled with good news. This will in effect put an end to the trust; only the sales and produce must be pledged to insure the last 15,000 and the annuity interest of 600. In this way Mr. Cadell will become half-partner in the remaining volumes of the books following _St. Ronan"s_; with all my heart, but he must pay well for it, for it is good property. Neither is any value stated for literary profits; yet, four years should have four novels betwixt 1830-4. This at 2500 per volume might be 8000, which would diminish Mr. Cadell"s advance considerably. All this seems feasible enough, so my fits of sullen alarm are ill placed. It makes me care less about the terms I retire upon. The efforts by which we have advanced thus far are new in literature, and what is gained is secure.
[_No entry between September 5 and December 20_.]
FOOTNOTES:
[404] Sir Walter had written to Morritt on his retirement from the Court of Session, and his old friend responded in the following cordial letter:--
"_November, 1830_.
"MY DEAR SCOTT,--... I am sorry to read what you tell me of your lameness, but legs are not so obedient to many of us at our age as they were twenty years ago, _non immunes ab illis malis sumus_, as the learned Partridge and Lilly"s Grammar tells us. I find mine swell, and am forced to bandage, and should not exert them with impunity in walking as I used to do, either in long walks or in rough ground. I am glad, however, you have escaped from the Court of Session, even at the risk of sometimes feeling the want you allude to of winter society. You think you shall tire of solitude in these months: and in spite of books and the love of them, I have discovered by experience the possibility of such a feeling; but can we not in some degree remedy this? Why should we both be within two days" march of each other and not sometimes together, as of old? How I have enjoyed in your house the _summum bonum_ of Sir Wm. Temple"s philosophy, "something which is not Home and yet with the liberty of Home, which is not Solitude, and yet hath the ease of Solitude, and which is only found in the house of an old friend." Our summer months are well provided with summer friends. You have plenty and to spare of sightseers, Lions, and their hunters, and I have travellers, moor-shooters, etc., in equal abundance, but now when the country is abandoned, and Walter is leaving you, how I wish you would bring dear Anne and partake for a while our little circle here--we stir not till Christmas--if before that time such a pleasure could be attainable.
Well, then, for auld lang syne, will you not, now that the Session has no claim on you, combine our forces against the possibility of _ennui_.
If you will do this, I will positively, and in good faith, hold myself in readiness to do as much by you in the next November, and in every alternate November, nor shall the month ever pa.s.s without bringing us together. Do not tell me, as Wm. Rose would not fail to do if I gave him so good an opportunity, that my proposal would be a greater bore than the solitude it destroyed. It shall be no such thing, but only the trouble of a journey. I feel too, as I grow older, the _vis inertiae_, and fancy that locomotion is more difficult, but let us abjure the doctrine, for it baulks much pleasure. Pray--pray as the children say--come to us, think of it first as not impossible, then weigh fairly the objections, and if they resolve themselves into mere aversion to change, overcome them by an a.s.surance that the very change will give value to the resumption of your home avocations. If I plead thus strongly, perhaps it is because I feel the advantage to myself. Time has made gaps in the list of old friends as in yours; young ones, though very cheering and useful, are not, and cannot be, the same. I enjoy them too when present, but in absence I regret the others. What remains but to make the most of those we have still left when both body and mind permit us [to enjoy] them. I have books; also a room that shall [be your own], and a [pony] off which I can shoot, which I will engage shall neither tumble himself or allow you to tumble in any excursion on which you may venture. Dear Anne will find and make my womenkind as happy as you will make me, and we have only to beg you to stay long and be most cordially welcome. ... Adieu, dear Scott. I fear you will not come for all I can say. I could almost lose a tooth or a finger (if it were necessary) to find myself mistaken. Come, and come soon; stay long; be a.s.sured of welcome.
"All unite in this and in love to you and Anne, with your a.s.sured friend,
J.B. MORRITT."
DECEMBER.
_December_ 20.--From September 5 to December 20 is a long gap, and I have seen plenty of things worth recollecting, had I marked them down when they were gliding past. But the time has gone by. When I feel capable of taking it up, I will.
Little self will jostle out everything else, and my affairs, which in some respects are excellent, in others, like the way of the world, are far from being pleasant.
Of good I have the pleasure of saying I have my children well, and in good health. The dividend of 3s. in the pound has been made to the creditors, and the creditors have testified their sense of my labours by surrendering my books, furniture, plate, and curiosities. I see some friends of mine think this is not handsomely done. In my opinion it is extremely so. There are few things so [easy] as to criticise the good things one does, and to show that we ourselves would have done [more]
handsomely. But those who know the world and their own nature are always better pleased with one kind action carried through and executed, than with twenty that only glide through their minds, while perhaps they tickle the imagination of the benevolent Barmecide who supposes both the entertainment and the eater. These articles do not amount to less than 10,000 at least, and, without dispensing with them entirely, might furnish me with a fund for my younger children.[405] Now, suppose these creditors had not seriously carried their purpose into execution, the transaction might have been afterwards challenged, and the ease of mind which it produced to me must have been uncertain in comparison. Well!
one-half of these claims are cleared off, furnished in a great measure by one-half issue of the present edition of the Waverley Novels, which had reached the 20th of the series.
It cannot be expected that twenty more will run off so fast; the later volumes are less favourites, and are really less interesting. Yet when I read them over again since their composition, I own I found them considerably better than I expected, and I think, if other circ.u.mstances do not crush them and blight their popularity, they will make their way.
Mr. Cadell is still desirous to acquire one-half of the property of this part of the work, which is chiefly my own. He proposes a.s.sembling all my detached works of fiction and articles in Annuals, so that the whole, supposing I write, as is proposed, six new volumes, will run the collection to fifty, when it is time to close it. Between cash advanced on this property, and a profit on the sale of the second part, Mr.
Cadell thinks, having taken a year or two years" time, to gather a little wind into the bag, I will be able to pay, on my part, a further sum of 30,000, or the moiety remaining of the whole debts, amounting now to less than 60,000.
Should this happy period arrive in or about the year 1832 the heavy work will be wellnigh finished. Tor, although 30,000 will still remain, yet there is 20,000 actually secured upon my life, and the remaining 10,000 is set against the sale of _Waverley_, which shall have been issued; besides which there is the whole Poetry, _Bonaparte_, and several other articles, equally [available] in a short time to pay up the balance, and afford a very large reversion.
This view cannot be absolutely certain, but it is highly probable, and is calculated in the manner in which Building Schemes [are dealt with], and is not merely visionary. The year 1833 may probably see me again in possession of my estate.
A circ.u.mstance of great consequence to my habits and comforts was my being released from the Court of Session on November 1830 (18th day). My salary, which was 1300, was reduced to 840. My friends, just then leaving office, were desirous to patch up the deficiency with a pension.
I do not see well how they could do this without being exposed to obloquy, which they shall not be on my account. Besides, though 500 a year is a round sum, yet I would rather be independent than I would have it.
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-gla.s.ses, 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 misp.r.o.nouncing 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 b.u.mper gla.s.s, 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]....