_March_ 21.--To-day brought Mrs. Dempster and her sister-in-law. To dinner came Robert Dundas of Arniston from the hunting-field, and with him Mr. Dempster of Skibo, both favourites of mine. Mr. Stuart, the grand-nephew of my dear friend Lady Louisa, also dined with us, together with the Lyons from Gattonside, and the day pa.s.sed over in hospitality and social happiness.

_March_ 22.--Being Sunday, I read prayers to our guests, then went a long walk by the lake to Huntly Burn. It is somewhat uncomfortable to feel difficulties increase and the strength to meet them diminish. But why should man fret? While iron is dissolved by rust, and bra.s.s corrodes, can our dreams be of flesh and blood enduring? But I will not dwell on this depressing subject. My liking to my two young guests is founded on "things that are long enough ago." The first statesman of celebrity whom I personally knew was Mr. Dempster's grand-uncle, George Dempster of Dunnichen, celebrated in his time, and Dundas's father was, when Lord Advocate, the first man of influence who showed kindness to me.

_March_ 23.--Arrived to breakfast one of the Courland n.o.bility, Baron A.

von Meyersdorff, a fine, lively, spirited young man, fond of his country and incensed at its degradation under Russia. He talked much of the orders of chivalry who had been feudal lords of Livonia, especially the order of Porte Glaive, to which his own ancestors had belonged. If he report correctly, there is a deep principle of action at work in Germany, Poland, Russia, etc., which, if it does "not die in thinking,"

will one day make an explosion. The Germans are a nation, however, apt to exhaust themselves in speculation. The Baron has enthusiasm, and is well read in English and foreign literature. I kept my state till one, and wrote notes to Croker upon Boswell's Scottish tour. It was an act of friendship, for time is something of a scarce article with me. But Croker has been at all times personally kind and actively serviceable to me, and he must always command my best a.s.sistance. Then I walked with the Baron as far as the Lake. Our sportsmen came in good time to dinner, and our afternoon was pleasant.

_March_ 24.--This morning our sportsmen took leave, and their _ladykind_ (to _rencherir_ on Anthony a-Wood and Mr. Oldbuck) followed after breakfast, and I went to my work till one, and at that hour treated the Baron to another long walk, with which he seemed highly delighted. He tells me that my old friend the Princess Galitzin[279] is dead. After dinner I had a pa.s.sing visit from Kinnear, to bid me farewell. This very able and intelligent young man, so able to throw a grace over commercial pursuits, by uniting them with literature, is going with his family to settle in London. I do not wonder at it. His parts are of a kind superior to the confined sphere in which he moves in Scotland. In London, he says, there is a rapid increase of business and its opportunities. Thus London licks the b.u.t.ter off our bread, by opening a better market for ambition. Were it not for the difference of the religion and laws, poor Scotland could hardly keep a man that is worth having; and yet men will not see this. I took leave of Kinnear, with hopes for his happiness and fortune, but yet with some regret for the sake of the country which loses him. The Baron agreed to go with Kinnear to Kelso: and _exit_ with the usual demonstrations of German enthusiasm.

_March_ 25.--I worked in the morning, and think I have sent Croker a packet which may be useful, and to Lockhart a critique on rather a dry topic, viz.: the ancient Scottish History. I remember E. Ainslie, commonly called the plain man, who piqued himself on his powers of conversation, striving to strike fire from some old flinty wretch whom he found in a corner of a public coach, at length addressed him: "Friend, I have tried you on politics, literary matters, religion, fashionable news, etc. etc., and all to no purpose." The dry old rogue, twisting his muzzle into an infernal grin, replied, "Can you claver about bend leather?" The man, be it understood, was a leather merchant.

The early history of Caledonia is almost as hopeless a subject, but off it goes. I walked up the Glen with Tom for my companion. Dined, heard Anne reading a paper of anecdotes about Cluny Macpherson, and so to bed.

_March_ 26.--As I have been so lately Johnsonizing, I should derive, if possible, some personal use. Johnson advises Boswell to keep a diary, and to omit registers of the weather, and like trumpery. I am resolved in future not to register what is yet more futile--my gleams of bright and clouded temper. Boswell--whose nerves were, one half madness, and half affectation--has thrummed upon this topic till it is threadbare. I have at this moment forty things to do, and great inclination to do none of them. I ended by working till two, walking till five, writing letters, and so to bed.

_March_ 27.--Letters again. Let me see. I wrote to Lord Montagu about Scott of Beirlaw's commission, in which Invernahyle interests himself.

Item, to a lady who is pestering me about a Miss Campbell sentenced to transportation for stealing a silver spoon. Item, to John Eckford.

Item, to James Loch, to get an appointment for Sandie Ballantyne's son.

Not one, as Dangle says,[280] about any business of my own. My correspondence is on a most disinterested footing. This lasts till past eleven, then enters my cousin R., and remains for two hours, till politics, family news, talk of the neighbourhood are all exhausted, and two or three reputations torn to pieces in the scouring of them. At length I walk him out about a mile, and come back from that _empechement_. But it is only to find Mr. [Henry] C[ranstoun],[281] my neighbour, in the parlour with the girls, and there is another sederunt of an hour. Well, such things must be, and our friends mean them as civility, and we must take and give the currency of the country. But I am _diddled_ out of a day all the same. The ladies came from Huntly Burn, and cut off the evening.[282]

_March_ 28.--In spite of the temptation of a fine morning, I toiled manfully at the _review_ till two o'clock, commencing at seven. I fear it will be uninteresting, but I like the muddling work of antiquities, and, besides, wish to record my sentiments with regard to the Gothic question. No one that has not laboured as I have done on imaginary topics can judge of the comfort afforded by walking on all-fours, and being grave and dull. I dare say, when the clown of the pantomime escapes from his nightly task of vivacity, it is his special comfort to smoke a pipe and be prosy with some good-natured fellow, the dullest of his acquaintance. I have seen such a tendency in Sir Adam Ferguson, the gayest man I ever knew; and poor Tom Sheridan has complained to me of the fatigue of supporting the character of an agreeable companion.

_March_ 29.--I wrote, read, and walked with the most stoical regularity.

This muddling among old books has the quality of a sedative, and saves the tear and wear of an overwrought brain. I wandered on the hills pleasantly enough and concluded a pleasant and laborious day.

_March_ 30.--I finished the remainder of the criticism and sent it off.

Pray Heaven it break not the mail coach down.

Lord and Lady Dalhousie, and their relation, Miss Hawthorne, came to dinner, to meet whom we had Dr. and Mrs. Brewster. Lord Dalhousie has more of the Caledonian _prisca fides_ than any man I know now alive. He has served his country in all quarters of the world and in every climate; yet, though my contemporary, looks ten years my junior. He laughed at the idea of rigid temperance, and held an occasional skirmish no bad thing even in the West Indies, thinking, perhaps, with Armstrong, of "the rare debauch"[283]. In all incidents of life he has been the same steady, honest, true-hearted Lord Dalhousie, that Lordie Ramsay promised to be when at the High School. How few such can I remember, and how poorly have honesty and valour been rewarded! Here, at the time when most men think of repose, he is bundled off to command in India.[284]

Would it had been the Chief Governorship! But to have remained at home would have been bare livelihood, and that is all. I asked him what he thought of "strangling a nabob, and rifling his jewel closet," and he answered, "No, no, an honest man." I fear we must add, a poor one. Lady Dalhousie, formerly Miss Brown of Coalstoun, is an amiable, intelligent, and lively woman, who does not permit society to "cream and mantle like a standing pool."[285]

The weather, drifting and surly, does not permit us to think of Melrose, and I could only fight round the thicket with Dr. Brewster and his lordship. Lord Dalhousie gave me some interesting accounts of the American Indians. They are, according to his lordship, decaying fast in numbers and principle. Lord Selkirk's property now makes large returns, from the stock of the North West Company and Hudson's Bay Companies having united. I learned from Lord Dalhousie that he had been keeping a diary since the year 1800. Should his narrative ever see the light, what a contrast will it form to the flourishing vapouring accounts of most of the French merchants! Mr. and Mrs. Skene with their daughter Kitty, who has been indisposed, came to dinner, and the party was a well-a.s.sorted one.

FOOTNOTES:

[263] See _Lear_, Act IV. Sc. 1.

[264] _Richard III_., Act IV. Sc. 2.

[265] See letter to George Forbes from Sir Walter, dated Dec. 18th, 1830.--_Life_, vol. X. pp. 19-20.

[266] Widow of Francis, Lord Seaforth, last Baron of Kintail, and mother of the Hon. Mrs. Stewart Mackenzie.

[267] A sportive a.s.sociation of young athletes. Hogg, I think, was their Poet Laureate.--J.G.L.

[268]

Mair spier na, no fear na, Auld age ne'er mind a feg; The last o't, the warst o't. Is only for to beg.--BURNS'S _Ep. to Davie_.

[269] _Tempest_, Act IV. Sc. 1. (Stephano).

[270] This gentleman was a favourite with Sir Walter--a special point of communion being the antiquities of the British drama. He was Provost of Edinburgh in 1816-17, and again in 1822, and the king gracefully surprised him by proposing his health at the civic banquet in the Parliament House, as "Sir William Arbuthnot, Baronet."--J.G.L.

[271] John Hope, afterwards Lord Justice-Clerk.

[272] _Narrative of a Journey through the Upper Provinces of India_, 2 vols. 4to, 1828.

[273] Old Ballad (known as "Marie Hamilton") quoted by Burns in a letter to Mrs. Dunlop regarding Falconer, author of _The Shipwreck_.--Currie's _Burns_, vol. ii. p. 290.

[274] See _Quart. Rev._, Nov. 1829, or _Misc. Prose Works_, xxi.

152-198.

[275] George Dempster of Skibo, one of the few men connecting Scott with this generation, died in Edinburgh on the 6th of February 1889. This accomplished Scottish gentleman had for many years made his home at Ormiston, where, in the old mansion-house, rich in a.s.sociations of Knox, Wishart, and Buchanan, he was the gracious host to a large circle of friends.

[276] Pope's _Moral Essays_, iii.

[277] _Ante_, vol. i. p. 312, _n._

[278] Mr. Lockhart says, writing in 1839:--"This head may still be seen over a laboratory at No. 100 South Bridge, Edinburgh. [It has since been removed.] N.B. There is a tradition that the venerable bust in question was once dislodged by 'Colonel Grogg' and some of his companions, and waggishly placed in a very inappropriate position."

[279] Fenimore Cooper told Scott that the Princess had had Sir Walter's portrait engraved in 1827 from the picture taken in Paris. [Mme.

Mirbel's miniature?]

[280] See Sheridan's _Critic_.

[281] Lord Corehouse's brother.

[282] Room may be made for part of one of the letters received by this morning's mail, in which, after much interesting family detail, his son-in-law describes the duel which took place between the Duke of Wellington and Lord Winchelsea:--"There is no reason to expect a duel every day, and all has been very quiet since Sat.u.r.day.--The letter was utterly forgotten till this recalled it to remembrance. _Ergo_, there was no sort of call on the Duke after beating Buonaparte to go to war with a b.o.o.by. But he could not stand the fling at the fair. His correspondence seems admirable every way, and the whole affair was gone through in excellent taste,--the Duke and Hardinge trotting out, the two peaceful lords rumbling down in a coach and four. The Duke had no half-pence and was followed and bothered for some time by the tollman on Battersea Bridge, when Hardinge fished out some silver or a groom came up. There were various market gardeners on the road, who, when Lord Winchelsea's equipage stopped, stopped also and looked on. One of them advised a turn up with nature's weapons. The moment all was done the Duke clapped spars to his horse and was back in Downing Street within the two hours, breakfasted, and off to Windsor, where he transacted business for an hour or so, and then said, 'By-the-by, I was forgetting I have had a field-day with Lord W. this morning.' They say the King rowed Arthur much for exposing himself at such a crisis."

[283] _Art of Preserving Health_, book ii.

[284] George Ramsay, Earl of Dalhousie, had just been appointed Commander-in-Chief in the East Indies; which office he held till 1832.

He died in 1838.

[285] _Merchant of Venice_, Act I. Sc. 1.

APRIL.

_April 1_.--A pretty first of April truly; the hills white with snow, I myself as bilious as a dog. My n.o.ble guests left about noon. I wrote letters, as if I had not bile enough in my bosom already, and did not go out to face the snow wreaths till half-past two, when I am resolved to make a brush for exercise. There will be fine howling among the dogs, for I am about to shut my desk. Found Mrs. Skene disposed to walk, so I had the advantage of her company. The snow lay three inches thick on the ground; but we had the better appet.i.te for dinner, after which we talked and read without my lifting a pen.

_April 2_.--Begins with same brilliant prospect of snow and sunshine dazzling to the eyes and chilling to the fingers, a beastly disagreeable coldness in the air. I stuck by the pen till one, then took a drive with the ladies as far as Chiefswood and walked home. Young William Forbes[286] came, and along with him a Southron, Mr. Cleasby.

_April 3_.--Still the same party. I f.a.gged at writing letters to Lockhart, to Charles, and to John Gibson, to Mr. Cadell, Croker, Lord Haddington, and others. Lockhart has had an overture through Croker requesting him to communicate with some newspaper on the part of the Government, which he has wisely declined. Nothing but a thorough-going blackguard ought to attempt the daily press, unless it is some quiet country diurnal. Lockhart has also a wicked wit which would make an office of this kind more dangerous to him than to downright dulness. I am heartily glad he has refused it.[287]