The Life and Letters of John Gibson Lockhart
Chapter 8: 1819-20
CHAPTER VIII
EDINBURGH, 1819-1820
“Peter’s
Letters.”—Scott’s bequest of his
baton.—Scott’s politics.—His comments on
“Peter’s Letters” in Blackwood.—On Allan, the
painter.—Lockhart revisits Abbotsford.—Rides with
Scott.—Scott’s
illness.—Praises “Peter’s
Letters.”—Analysis of “Peter’s
Letters.”—Mr. Wastle of
Wastle.—Jeffrey.—Goethe.—A
Burns Dinner.—Wilson.—The Shepherd.—Neglect of
Greek.—Lockhart’s supposed irony.—The Edinburgh Review.—Jeffrey as a
critic.—Lockhart compared with
Carlyle.—Defence of Coleridge.—The
booksellers.—Mr. Blackwood.—Story of Gabriel’s
Road.—John Hamilton Reynolds.—Description of
Scott at Abbotsford.—His woods.—The
Kirk.—Letters to Coleridge.—Reynolds
suggested as editor of a Tory paper.—Popular
commotions.—Lockhart as a yeoman.—Ballads attributed
to him.—His betrothal to Miss Sophia Scott.—Her
letters.—Prince Gustavus.—Descriptions of
Miss Scott.—Scott asleep.
While trailing his gown in the Parliament House, where
“nae man speered his price,” and “dancing after young
ladies” (or one young lady), and scribbling comic
rhymes for Blackwood, and
caricaturing the lieges, Lockhart was busy, at this
time, on his singular work, “Peter’s
Letters to his Kinsfolk.”1 On March 23, 1819,
Scott wrote to him from Abbotsford, where cramp held
him in torment.
“I thought of you amid all this agony, and
of the great game which, with your parts and principles, lies before you in
Scotland.” For long Scott had been the only Tory man of
letters north of Tweed, the sole writer not dazzled by the radiance of
“enlightenment.” This very solitude might have given Scott
pause, but he deemed that he was “at least standing by, if he could not support,
the banner of ancient faith and loyalty.” In his physical anguish he was
mentally bequeathing his baton to Lockhart, he said, and the ladies
who attended him were astonished to hear him quote— “Take thou the vanguard of the
Three, And bury me by the bracken bush That grows on yon lily lea.” |
Why Scott had Lockhart and the dying Douglas in his mind during his torments, shall be explained later.
Sir Walter had a habit of uttering these unexpected
snatches of old song, which showed his companions where his mind was, often enough in an
unlooked-for situation. Thus during his last days in Italy, at a point where the Lake of
Avernus, the Lucrine Lake, Misenum, and Baiae, and the sea are all in view, Sir William Gell heard him murmur—
“Up the craggy mountain, And down the mossy glen, We daurna gang a milking |
208 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
His mind’s eye looked on Moidart, “and he in dreams
beheld the Hebrides.”1
So it was with him when he quoted “The Hunting of
Cheviot” in his racking pains, for his heart was with his cause, as he,
and he only, conceived of that cause, and the death-words of the Douglas he was applying to Lockhart,
as his own successor.
There could be no such successor. Scott’s peculiar Toryism, like that of his own Invernahyle, was a loyalty to the old feudal order which,
though now forlorn, had once, in ideal if not in reality, been a reasoned system of life
and of society. No other system to be called rational has risen on its ruins. Whiggery is
the negation of a system, an inn, not a dwelling. Socialism was, as yet, incoherent.
Scott’s sympathies were certainly more with some of the
tenets of Socialism, with many of its aims at least, than with a Whiggish industrialism. He
himself, in his relations with peasants and peers, lived in the light of the ideal of
Feudalism; the friend and protector of all beneath him, his “men”;—the
friend and true “man” of his chiefs. His political creed was a transferred
allegiance from the rightful kings, who (in the male line) were no more, to the king whom,
by some odd cantrip of logic, he regarded as their legitimate successor. His
loyalty—so hateful and so incomprehensible to Hazlitt, for example—blossomed like a white rose, among the ruins of
what had been
1 The explanation occurs later in a letter of Lockhart’s from Italy. |
| THE PLEADERS’ PORTRAITS | 209 |
a stately tower, and above the
graves where the royal and exiled dead sleep after their lifelong wanderings.
This was the creed, these were the politics, of a poet and a dreamer of
dreams. That airy baton of his he could bequeath to no man. And Lockhart (though, as I shall show later, his imagination could share and
nobly interpret the creed of Scott), must have known the
truth very well, and smiled sadly enough at the bequest. Though a free lance of Toryism, he
was not essentially a party man, as he discovered before the end came. But it is plain that
Lockhart had bewitched his future father-in-law from the first,
and that for Rodrigue this Don
Diègue had les yeux de
Chèmene.
Descending from his characteristic dream, and his snatch of minstrelsy,
Scott, in his letter, thanks Lockhart for “the pleaders’
portraits,” in Blackwood (Nos. xxiii., xxiv.) sketches of Cranstoun, Clerk, and Jeffrey, which later appeared in “Peter’s Letters.” The articles in Blackwood pretended, but with a most
transparent pretence, to offer extracts from “Peter’s” first edition,—which never existed. In fact the Reviewer
says, like Coleridge of his journal, The Friend,
“it is as good as MS.” The latest extracts were those which so much
pleased Scott.
In his letter of March 23, 1819, he adds remarks (now first published) on
a scheme of Lockhart’s for assisting Mr.
Allan, the Scotch painter.
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LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. |
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“I am delighted with your plan for poor Allan. It would be a shame to us all were we not to
make an exertion for so wonderful a little fellow. Pray put me down for three shares. I
think I shall get two names—D. Buccleugh and
Lord Montagu, for two more—indeed I am
almost sure of the former. Could not something be eked to the plan in the way of
engraving so as to make it still further productive? I hope to be so well as to go up
to London, and trust I shall get Allan an order to paint Archbishop Sharpe’s murder, of which he has made
a superb sketch. If my stomach would let me exert my energies as usual, I should hope
to be able to treat myself to some of his productions. But at present my nose is held
to the grindstone in every way.”
It was, apparently, on April 10, 1819, that Lockhart rode to Abbotsford with John
Ballantyne, and found Sir Walter, his
hair bleached by the stress of his malady (“Life,” vi. 69; “Letters,” ii. 40). In the night the family was
aroused by the cries of Scott, in a recurrence of his pains, and
Lockhart, naturally, intended to leave early next morning. But the
indomitable Sheriff took him on horseback “up Yarrow,” as we say at home, past
all his dear legendary scenes, doing election business with my grandfather on the way. They
rode by Carterhaugh, where the Forest waters meet,1 and where Janet
1 Ettrick and Yarrow. Lockhart afterwards gave their names
to two Dandie Dinmonts, presented to the Queen. |
rescued Tamlane from the Fairy Queen. They rode by Philiphaugh, where Leslie broke on Montrose’s sleeping men, through the mist; and they passed over
Minchmoor, whereby Montrose galloped to the Tweed; and Newark; and
Slain Man’s Lee, where the Covenanters butchered prisoners taken under promise of
quarter. Next day they rode up Ail water, and on Bowden Moor, summoned by a rising wreath
of smoke, Scott met a trembling Tory voter, skulking, like a Jacobite,
from Whig scrutiny. Then they heard the story of “ancient Riddell’s wide
domain,” now dispeopled of its lords. Next day, from Eildon crest,
Lockhart was shown the kingdom of Border romance— “Mertoun’s wood, And Tweed’s fair flood, And all down Teviotdale,” |
and Smailholme Tower, and the ruined shell of Ercildoune, where the hare kindles on
the Rhymer’s hearthstone. There
Scott repeated the charmed lines of Minstrel
Burne— “For many a place stands in hard case, Where blithe folk kenned nae sorrow, With Homes that dwelt on Leader braes, And Scotts that dwelt on Yarrow.” |
Times were blithe with Scotts that dwelt on Tweedside, though too soon the
Minstrel’s burden was to sing sooth.
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LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. |
|
Of one charm in Abbotsford, more potent than even the Wizard’s spells, Lockhart, of course, says nothing, but we may believe that already his
heart was given to her from whom, in life and death,
that loyal heart never wandered.
On the night after the ride to Eildon Hill, Scott suffered from another attack, and Lockhart left him “with dark prognostications” that this visit
to Abbotsford was to be his last.
On July 19, 1819, Scott acknowledged a
present of “Peter’s
Letters.”1 The letter need not be reprinted.
“The Epistles of the imaginary Dr. Morris
have so often been denounced” (says Lockhart, after apologising for the book, as that of “a very young
and a very thoughtless person”) “as a mere string of libels, that I
think it fair to show how much more leniently Scott judged of them at
the time. Indeed Sir Walter writes, ‘The general turn of the
book is perhaps too favourable, both to the state of our public society, and of
individual character.’ He wished Dr.
Morris to revive every half century, ‘to record the fleeting
manners of the age, and the interesting features of those who will only be known to
posterity by their works.’ He ‘purrs and puts up his back, like his
own grey cat,’ Hins of Hinsfeldt, ‘bribed
by the doctor’s kind and delicate account of his visit to
Abbotsford.’”
Indeed, had Lockhart never lived
to write his
1 “Life,” vol. vi. pp. 100, 103. |
famous Biography, Dr.
Morris’s description of Abbotsford would remain the locus classicus.
“Peter’s
Letters,” in spite of its ill repute, really contains infinitely more of
good than evil. Dr. Morris, a scholar of some twoscore
years, is supposed to arrive in his shandrydan from Wales. He meets a Mr. Wastle of Wastle, an old Oxford friend, and an
impossible, irreconcilable Cavalier Tory. Wastle’s “sudden elopement from Oxford, without a degree,
after having astonished the examining masters by the splendid commencement of his
examination,” is a trait adapted from the tradition about De Quincey. The personal description is that of Lockhart himself, grown some twenty years older, while
Wastle’s learned enthusiasm for Old Edinburgh
is borrowed from Scott. Lockhart
liked the character, and made Wastle responsible for
much prose and verse in Blackwood. “This yellow visage of his, with his close, firm
lips, and his grey eyes . . . one would less wonder to meet with in Valladolid than in
Edinburgh.” This is worth quoting, as there is no effort to hide, but rather
to proclaim Lockhart, though he is, later, introduced briefly in his
proper person. Wastle’s very passion for heraldry
is Lockhart’s. The attitude towards the Scotch people,
especially as concerns their devotions, is exactly that of Lockhart in
his “Life of Burns.” He
sees them, at the sermon, rejoice when they detect a chink in the armour of the
preacher’s logic, and “bowed in the dust”
214 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
before “some solitary gleam of warm affectionate eloquence—the only weapon
they have no power to resist.” There occur, of course, frequent portraits of
“local celebrities,” beginning with Jeffrey. Dr. Morris contrasts
Jeffrey’s head with Goethe’s (whom Lockhart met at Weimar),
“the sublime simplicity of his Homeric beauty, the awful pile of forehead, the
large deep eyes, with their melancholy lightnings, the whole countenance, so radiant
with divinity.” As to Jeffrey’s own eyes,
“the scintillation of a star is not more fervid.” “I think
their prevailing language is, after all, rather a melancholy than a merry one; it is,
at least, very full of reflection.” There follows a dinner (purely Barmecide)
with Jeffrey, Playfair,
Leslie, and others. The sages and philosophers
are described as practising leaping, a curious and by no means very humorous invention. For
this the brilliant and delicate account of Jeffrey’s
conversational manner might make some amends. Playfair, the victim of
Lauerwinkel, “left a feeling of quiet,
respectful, and affectionate admiration upon my mind.” The superiority of the
Whigs in law is admitted, and in literature. But where now is their literature?
Aaron’s serpent in the Magician’s hand, hath swallowed
all the serpents of the Edinburgh literary Whiggery of that day.
Henry Mackenzie, the Man of
Feeling, is described very favourably. In 1823, Lockhart dedicated “Reginald Dalton” to this sometime enemy
of Blackwood. At a Burns Dinner, in “Peter’s Letters,” Jeffrey does not propose the poet’s memory, and
Dr. Morris censures his critical severity to
Burns, making a very fair and unexaggerated
appeal for tenderness to the poet’s failings. He tells how Mr. Maule of Panmure settled £50 a year on Mrs. Burns, and how one of the poet’s sons, as soon as he obtained a
medical practice in India, provided for her so well that she was able to relieve
Mr. Maule from the slight burden on his kindness. Many poets were
toasted, including Crabbe, Rogers, and Montgomery, but not Wordsworth,
Southey, or Coleridge, Tory minstrels. The organisers of the feast were Whigs! If
Dr. Morris fables not, this is an odd proof of Whig
liberality. Here, and throughout, Wordsworth is praised “with
both hands.”
Wilson, of course, was present: “His hair
is of the true Sicambrian yellow; his eyes are of the lightest, and at the same time of
the clearest blue, and the blood glows in his cheeks with as firm a fervour as it did,
according to the description of Jornandes, in those
of the bello gaudentes, prælio ridentes
Teutones of Attila. I had never
suspected, before I saw him, that such extreme fairness and freshness of complexion
could be compatible with so much variety and tenderness, but, above all, with so much
depth of expression.” The variety, luxury, and feeling of
Wilson’s eloquence, and “the tremulous music of a
voice that is equally at home in the highest and
216 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
lowest of
notes,” are sympathetically described. He proposed Hogg’s health; the Shepherd made a brief hearty reply, and Dr. Morris “began to be quite in love with the
Ettrick Shepherd.” When the doctor sang “Donald Macdonald,” the Shepherd, its author,
confessed a kindred flame,—and toddy set in. The “dreadful tusks”
and other features of the “Great Boar” are described in a manner not wholly
pleasing to any personal vanity which Hogg may have cherished, but
“his towering brow, and eye of genius,” atone for all. The evening
finished under Mr. Patrick Robertson’s
(“Lord Peter’s”) chairmanship.
Dr. Morris’s view of Scotch education, of the
“facetious and rejoicing ignorance” of Greek, has been already
cited. It was as in Dr. Johnson’s days,
“every man has a mouthful of learning, no man has a bellyful.” There
is a really admirable defence of Greek, and of historical study. It is vain to talk of
reading the Greeks in translations. “Wherein does the essence of a nation exist,
if not in her mind? and how is that mind to be penetrated or understood, if we neglect
the pure and faithful mirror in which of old it has stamped its likeness, her language?
Men may talk as they please about translations, there is, in brevity and in truth, no
such thing as a translation!” As for the Scotch, as compared with the English
Universities, “they have different objects, and they are both excellent in their
different ways.”
The copious
descriptions of leading advocates are incisive, and probably just; but a barrister, like an
actor, has his fame in his lifetime, nor can we now care greatly to read about men who have
left only names, and these, except at the Scotch Bar, well-nigh forgotten.
A very distinguished Scotsman, who remembers, “’tis sixty
years since,” a bad inn described by Lockhart as still deserving his description, writes to me:
“Lockhart shows a good deal of malice and irony, and
does not even spare the chief of his own party—witness his account of the
President of the Court of Session, Charles Hope,
and his address to the corrupt attorney.” (“Letters,” third edition, ii. 102-105.)
“He manages to make the President ridiculous, while exalting his eloquence and
solemnity.”
Now I have read the whole passage, a most eloquent and impressive
passage, carefully, and cannot detect a grain of irony, or a shade of ridicule. The piece
concludes—“As I came away through the crowd, I heard a pale,
anxious-looking old man, who, I doubt not, had a cause in Court, whisper to himself,
‘God be thanked, there’s one true Gentleman at the head of them
all.’”
The passage, in fact, describes the strong, almost overwhelming emotion
of pain, with which “a true gentleman,” in supreme place, prepares
himself for the cruel task of publicly rebuking a fellow-creature, and “the
haughtiness of insulted virtue, the scorn
218 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
of honour, the coldness
of disdain, the bitterness of pity,” with which the inevitable reprimand is
inflicted.
Apparently there are, and were, two ways of reading “Peter’s Letters,” and Lockhart may have been suspected of irony where he was
serious, or the sense of irony, in myself as in Scott,
may be deficient. I am, of course, inclined to prefer my own interpretation, but it is well
to state (what I certainly could never have guessed), that there is another.
From the lawyers, Dr. Morris turns to
the men of letters, and, of course, to Jeffrey and
his Review. The learned
doctor anticipates Carlyle’s line of thought.
The Edinburgh Reviewers are “the legitimate
offspring of the sceptical philosophers of the last age,” and their
scepticism as to the value, for example, of thought on the great problems of thought, has
resulted in petulance and persiflage. In truth, the Reviewers are
not “earnest,” as Mr. Carlyle would have said. The fact
that Sir William Hamilton never contributed to the
Review, under
Jeffrey, and that when he did, under Macvey Napier, Jeffrey was vexed and puzzled, is an
illustration of Lockhart’s meaning.
“Cousin I pronounce the most
unreadable thing that ever appeared in the Review” says Jeffrey about
Hamilton’s essay on Cousin.1
Hamilton “affects to understand the worst part of the
mysticism” (of
Cousin), “and to explain it, and to think it very ingenious
and respectable, and it is mere gibberish.”
Jeffrey’s famous letter of advice to
Carlyle, analysed by Mr.
Froude, “England will never admire, nor indeed endure, your German
divinities” (Goethe is in question),
supplies another example. The German philosophers are “Dousterswivels,” and so forth.1 Of
Goethe, Lockhart had an extreme admiration.
Himself a mocker on occasion, he was absolutely in earnest about the great works of great
minds. He found Jeffrey habitually misunderstanding, or never trying
to understand, what was not superficial. He found him applauding vehemently “The Paradise of Coquettes,” and
beginning a review of Wordsworth with “This
will never do!” He found him ministering to the vanity of a nation,
“which had become at once very fond of scepticism, and very weary of
learning.” He saw him “counteracting, by a continued series of
sarcastic and merry antidotes, the impression likely to be produced by works appealing
to the graver and more mysterious feelings of the human heart.” In
contemporary literature, the Review was so
conducted that “I do not, on my conscience, believe that there is one Whig in
Edinburgh to whom the name of my friend Charles
Lamb would convey any distinct or definite idea.” As for
Wordsworth, “the reading public of Edinburgh do not
criticise Mr. Wordsworth, they think him below their
criticism.”
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LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. |
|
Nobody can deny the element, the much-needed element, of truth in all
this censure. The world is not so clear and comprehensible as the Jeffreyan intellect
supposes. Great and ultimate, if finally insoluble problems, “blank misgivings of
a creature moving about in worlds not realised,” cannot be sneered away.
Ernst ist das Leben, whether we like it
or not. This is, in essence, what Lockhart had to
say—this is what Carlyle would have called his
“message.” His was vox clamantis in
eremo, in a wilderness tempered by toddy and punch, port and claret.
Carlyle, not to speak profanely, came clad in camel’s hair
and eating locusts and wild honey. Lockhart, amidst the complexities
of his character, had the prophet’s message, but not his spirit of martyrdom and
renunciation.
Prophesying cannot be done on these terms, and Dr. Morris wanders off to a disquisition on that very mundane School of the
Prophets, Blackwood’s
Magazine. But even Blackwood is under the Edinburgh spell. In the evil article on Coleridge, which opened the campaign, it is written:
“If Mr. Coleridge should make his appearance suddenly
among any company of well-educated people on this side the Tweed, he would meet with
some difficulty in making them comprehend who he was.” “What a fine
idea,” cries Lockhart, “for a
Scottish critic to hug himself upon! How great is the blessing of a contented
disposition!”
The talk of Dr. Morris about the
bookseller’s
shops is now, of course, antiquated.
Constable’s, in the High Street, was
“a low dusky chamber,” without the luxuries of Mr. Murray’s emporium in Albemarle Street. There was
Manner’s and Miller’s, for a modern lounge; and Laing’s, for lovers of old books and black letter, reminded
Lockhart of Parker’s,
in Oxford. There is a long description of Blackwood’s, in Princes Street, but we have had enough of Ebony.
Mr. Blackwood is praised for shrewdness, decision, and energy, and
it would be “unfair” (one does not see why) to blame him for the excesses of
his Magazine. “Well, Dr. Morris,”
exclaimed the Man in Plain Apparel, “have you seen our last number? Is it not
perfectly glorious? My stars! doctor, there is nothing equal to it,” and so
on, the author’s natural turn for banter getting the better of him here, at all
events. They dine at Ambrose’s, the tavern of the “Noctes Ambrosianæ,” and
Lockhart tells, very well, the tragic old story of
Gabriel’s double murder, wrought here when the road was a
dell in a wood. There follows a history of the Magazine, a kind of confession of
contrition, a defence of the Cockney articles, an
eulogy on Coleridge. Keats’s friend, John Hamilton
Reynolds, “a very promising writer,” is excepted from the
general abuse of the Londoners; partly, perhaps, because Christie knew Reynolds; partly because his really was
“a very gay, humorous pen, capable, too, of charming poetry.”
The painters come next, and Raeburn is pro-
222 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
nounced “in no important
particular inferior even to Sir Thomas
Lawrence.” The end of the volume deals with the visit to
Abbotsford, and Scott. “There is no kind of
rank which I should suppose it so difficult to bear with perfect ease, as the
universally honoured nobility of universally honoured genius; but all this sits as
lightly upon this great man, as ever a plumed casque did upon the head of one of his
own graceful knights.” Scott quotes a ballad, his face
alters, his quick eyes beneath his heavy brows are fixed “with a sober solemn
lustre. . . . I shall certainly never forget the fine heroic enthusiasm of look with
which he spoke the lines, nor the grand melancholy roll of voice, which showed with
what a world of thoughts and feelings every fragment of the old legend was associated
within his breast.”
One criticism Lockhart makes,
which Scott may not have welcomed. His stripling woods
were dearer than his poems to the Sheriff. Lockhart speaks of the
plantations, and the agriculture which will take advantage of their shelter. “To
say the truth, I do not think with much pleasure of the prospect of any such changes. .
. . There hovers at present over the most of this district a certain delicious
atmosphere of pastoral loneliness, and I think there would be something like sacrilege
in disturbing it, even by things that elsewhere would confer interest as well as
ornament.”
The Kirk and the General Assembly next en-
gaged the attention of Dr. Morris. He found the
Assembly to be little more than a kind of clerical wappenshaw, so
much had Party (as of Moderates and High Flyers) declined in our national Zion. Dr. Morris listened to many sermons, described several
ministers, among others the Griffin, visited
Glasgow, and dealt with its local habit of “gaggery,” reiterated his praises of
Wilson, especially as a poet, and gave one of
his best chapters to an occasion, or Holy Fair, as Burns called the open-air administration of the Sacrament. These are pages
marked by an almost Wordsworthian sense of the nature of that impressive and singular
celebration.1 They are conceived in the best and most
sympathetic sense, and especially deserve the attention of students of
Burns’s brilliant satire. Lockhart’s memory was full of comic anecdotes about rural ministers,
but his Dr. Morris repeats none of them. To “a
mischievous Oxford puppy,” of Scotch birth, the foibles of his countrymen
afford a tempting target, but Lockhart, in his assumed character of a
Welsh physician, avoids temptation, and scarcely ever shoots at national folly as she
waddles by.
Indeed it is not easy to understand the frame of mind to which
“Peter’s Letters”
appeared “a string of libels.” The dinner at Craigcrook, Jeffrey’s house, was a fancy sketch, far better
omitted; the “portraits of the pleaders” were portraits of public
224 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
men in their public function, and certainly did not offend Scott. At our distance in time there may be sins which escape
us, and others may have been invented or imagined. The introduction of himself, perhaps by
the mysterious “other hand,” may have been an error, but it was partly
warranted, as Lockhart was already a “lion” of Edinburgh,
though such a young one, and was, in fact, stared at as he walked the streets: to this
Mr. Lawrence Lockhart bears witness. The
disguise, it must be repeated, is designedly flimsy. Lockhart’s
authorship was the most open of secrets, the very drawings were a signature.
In the third edition appears a letter to Coleridge from Dr. Morris. The doctor
attributes the hubbub to the arrogance of the Scotch Whigs, which is very amusingly
described. After reading Lord Cockburn’s
“Memorials,” with his
description of Jeffrey as “the First of
British Critics,” we feel that exaggeration was impossible. Much of the book
is now antiquated, but many admirable passages of living interest might be extracted. The
doctor’s craniological speculations are obsolete, but it is almost as true to say
that a few excisions would present a useful work, as to say that many selections would be
valuable. The author insists on his old private opinion, that Scotch intellect is
sufficiently represented by Hume and Adam Smith, but that Scotch character is an inexhaustible
mine. As for the personalities, the Whigs had welcomed, two or three
years before, a personal volume by a traveller, one Simond, in which Scotch Tories had suffered grievous things.1 It is only necessary to add that an unlucky description of the
Black Bull Inn, as noisy and untidy, led to legal proceedings, and
Lockhart had to pay £400 of damages, without going into
court. “Lockhart’s account of the inn is very
correct,” says a friend already quoted, who remembers “The Black
Bull,” but toute vérité n’est pas bonne
à dire.
On October 31, 1819, I find Lockhart writing to Scott, from
Edinburgh, about his endeavours to obtain an editor for a new Tory newspaper.2 The Scotsman of the period was probably thought to need an antidote. To
abridge a mere letter of business, Lockhart had asked Christie to invite Mr. Murray of the Times to take the vacant post. Mr.
Murray was in all respects well qualified, as a political writer, and a man
acquainted with the material side of newspaper publication. But Mr.
Murray’s connection with a well-established and successful London
paper made him hesitate, and, finally, decline. Lockhart also
consulted Wilson, “who appears to enter
into it with all his
1 Among critics who, like Scott, did not reckon Peter’s book a pestilent libel, was that respectable
authority, Dr. Jenkyns, Master of
Balliol. “‘Peter’s Letters’ have been much read in the
South,” writes the Master, “and with great pleasure, which
I felt at the perusal of them. I could not help recognising the connection
between Dr. Morris and our portly friend of
Ystraed Meirie.” (Williams.) The
Master then invites Lockhart to stay
with him at Balliol. 2 Scott’s
“Letters,” ii.
97. |
226 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
characteristic ardour. When the thing is once set afoot, the only
difficulty will be restraining his vehemence: there will certainly be no need of any
stimulus, I mean in regard to the tendency and scope of his lucubrations. As to the
regularity of their forthcoming there will be a necessity for very serious pressing
indeed. I speak, as you know, from abundant experience. Perhaps, if you will pardon me
for hinting such a thing, a few lines from yourself, even at this stage of the
business, might be of great use in leading him to turn his mind steadfastly to an
examination and preparation of his many resources. . . . —Believe me, ever
faithfully and affectionately yours,
In an undated note, Lockhart sends
Murray’s letter of refusal to Sir Walter, and admits that he can think of no substitute in
the chair editorial. Christie, in London, was
equally at a loss. He wisely declined, for his own part, to abandon his prospects at the
Bar. He could think of nobody eligible, except John Hamilton
Reynolds, the friend of Keats; but
Reynolds was “Master T’otherside,” as
Scott says on another occasion. Reynolds had
been a writer in the Champion (to which Keats occasionally refers), but
the paper, Christie thought, was waning under the editorship of
Mr. John Scott, the first mention of that
ill-starred name in this correspondence. At the same time Mr.
Croker wrote
his first letter
to Lockhart (November 18, 1819), trying to enlist Wilson and him in a
paper to be called the Constitution, but,
in practice, styled the Guardian. The Tories of these days were poor hands at journalism, and
the position of an editor was not deemed worthy of a gentleman. For the inchoate Scotch
paper, Scott suggested (1.) James
Ballantyne, (2.) Washington Irving!
In the latter case a gentleman, at all events, would have been an editor. He, of course,
declined.1
In these months an alarm, or panic, about a Radical rising was current,
and Scott was very busy with his picturesque Buccleuch
Legion.
Lockhart was a volunteer, with the rest; even
Lord Cockburn was enrolled in some kind of armed
force. Lockhart rode about in the various unopposed marches and
counter marches, the Raid of Airdrie, the Trot of Kilmarnock, but he does not seem to have
taken his military character seriously. “The Songs of the Edinburgh Troop” (published in 1825), are usually
attributed to him.2
Therein the poet sings:
“Sometimes the thing will happen, The rear rides o’er the front; Myself, I once came slapping, And fell with such a dunt! |
228 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
I hate the gloom of Borthwick’s plume! There’s wisdom in my tune, Make your will, ere you drill, Each desperate Dragoon.” |
Or again— “’Twas at Bathgate this war might be said to commence, To the tune, as was fitting, of ‘D——n the
expense.’” |
In later days Lockhart’s
interest in sterile disputes of party nearly vanished; it was never very strong, and social
questions, “the condition of England,” occupied his sympathies. Even in 1819 it
is pleasant to note that his heart was not all set on force as a remedy. His “Clydesdale Yeoman’s
Return,” attributed to his friend “The Odontist,” describes a Lanarkshire
farmer’s view of a Radical meeting, and his readiness to rise and ride as a
volunteer. But his good wife is of gentler mood—
“Now, God preserve the King,” said Jean,
“and bless the Prince, his son, And send good trade to weaver-lads, and this work will all be done; For ’tis idle hand makes busy tongue, and troubles all the land With noisy fools, that prate of things they do not understand. But if worse fall out, then up, my man—was never holier cause, God’s blessed Word, King
George’s crown, and proud old Scotland’s
laws.” |
But Lockhart’s comic verse
is the topic of a
separate dissertation. So varied were
his pursuits, that he had already begun his well-known translations of the Spanish Ballads. The first instalment
appeared in Blackwood’s for February 1820. In the following month Mr. Wastle began a Literary Diary in the Magazine, praising,
incidentally, the author of a review of
the Waverley Novels, in a new serial, Baldwins, or The
London Magazine. This reviewer was the Editor, John Scott.
Lockhart had other than literary engagements at this
moment. By the middle of February it had been arranged that he should marry Miss Scott. Lockhart always treasured
the little notes written to him, at this time, by his future wife. The earliest begins
“My dear Sir,” and is written “without Papa’s
knowledge,” a thing which must never occur again. Miss
Scott had spoken to her father, and Sir
Walter had hinted at a little prudent delay. “Do not, for
God’s sake, be so unhappy,” she writes. The unhappiness did not last
long. The later notes always begin “Dear Mr.
Lockhart,” kind, happy, playful missives, ending “Always
affectionately yours.” Lockhart accompanied the family
on a flying visit to Abbotsford, on a Saturday, of which he has left the chronicle.1 In a walk from Huntly Burn his future country home was fixed, the
cottage of Chiefswood, on a little haugh beside the haunted Bogle burn, which flows through
the Rhymer’s Glen. An additional gable
230 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
has been built in the cottage, with its tiny rooms, separated only by
the burn from an ancient Holy Well. Otherwise the place is unaltered. The bureau where
Scott wrote “The
Pirate” keeps its old place; the same venerable trees shade the lawn: the
avenue is that which John Ballantyne wanted to mark
out by a cross-country ride “on the Sabbath-day.” The glen is now
haunted, indeed, by many memories.
In this February, Scott and Lockhart, with Prince
Gustavus, the exiled heir of Sweden, saw George
IV. proclaimed, where, in 1745, King James the
Eighth had been vainly announced, at the Cross of Edinburgh. The Swedish
exile listened, with melancholy interest, to Scott’s anecdotes
of that other wanderer, Prince Charles, who, on
this very scene, had snatched from Fate one hour of royalty. Scott
drew Lockhart to a window apart, “Poor lad, poor lad, God
help him!” he said with a natural emotion.
On March 15, 1820, Scott announces to
Lady Abercorn his daughter’s approaching
marriage “to a young man of uncommon talents, indeed of as promising a character
as I know.” All his correspondence attests his satisfaction with the
match.1 Lockhart’s letter, announcing to his father his betrothal, lies
before me, but such documents
deserve to be respected at any distance of time. It is
enough to say, that Miss Scott’s charming
character, displayed during her father’s illness, even more than her personal beauty,
is assigned as the cause of his affection. Mr.
Christie sent his congratulations on March 17.
“Your letter has given me more pleasure than any I ever received
from you. . . . I do not question that you have better reasons to expect happiness in
your wife than birth can bestow, however exalted, either from title or illustrious
character. But surely it must be matter for congratulation to marry the daughter of the
most illustrious man of the age. . . . Depend upon it, woman’s goodness is
greater than the faultiness of our nature can ever permit us to equal.”
Of Scott’s eldest daughter and
dearest, “the flower and blossom of his house,” not much is said, of
course, in published memorials. I take a quaint vignette of her, from an unpublished letter
to Sir Walter by Mr. Edward
Everett. (Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 28, 1820.)
“Just before I had the happiness of visiting you, a party of
ladies and gentlemen, travelling into Scotland, determined to see you, wandered into
your enclosure, and surprised you seated before your door, in that condition into which
Horace says your great master Homer sometimes fell. This fact I have upon the authority
of Miss Sophia, who came out and found them all
standing round
232 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
you in a ring, without breaking the quiet of your
siesta.”
These were strange gentlemen and ladies, but the little picture of
Scott asleep in white hat and green coat, of the
gaping tourists who had calmly walked up to his door, and of Miss Scott contemplating the scene, is worth preserving.
The following page is a sketch of Miss
Scott as she was in 1817, extracted from the unpublished journal of a tour
by two Miss Penroses, and Miss Trevennen.1
The English ladies, being in Melrose, were visited by the
Scotts, the Constables, and Miss
Russel of Ashestiel. Naturally they were taken to the Abbey.
“In the chancel Miss
Scott, a very charming lively girl of seventeen, pointed out to us
‘The Wizard’s Grave,’ and then the black stone in the form of a
coffin, to which the allusion is made in the poem, ‘A Scottish
monarch sleeps below,’—said to be the tomb of Alexander II. ‘But I will tell you a
secret,’ she half-whispered; ‘only don’t you tell
Johnny Bower’ (the cicerone).
‘There is no Scottish monarch there at all, nor anybody else, for papa had the
stone taken up, not long ago, and no coffin or anything was to be found. And then
Johnny came and begged me not to tell
people so.1 “For
what wull I do, Miss Scott, when I show the ruins, if I canna
point to this bit, and say, ‘A Scottish monarch sleeps
below’?” As, however, he had the pleasure of
saying this to us the evening before, Miss Scott thought we
might fairly have her secret.2
. . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
“We now set out for Dryburgh, about five miles. Mr. Scott placed his daughter in our carriage, that she might
point out the different places as we passed them. We could not have had a better director,
nor a more lively entertaining companion. Every spot was known to her, and in this fairy
land her quick imagination seemed to delight in all the legendary lore she had heard, and
could so promptly apply, of the Goblin burn, where still the common people deemed fairy
elves and spirits loved to hold their moonlit revels. . . . In a short time, at the view of
some distant mountains, Miss Scott suddenly
exclaimed, ‘Look, there are the Cheviots; are you not glad to see England
again?’ We assured her we were, though we should quit Scotland with so much
regret. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘she should not have liked us if we
were not glad to return home.’ Her father had taken her to London the
1 See Washington
Irving on Johnny Bower, in his “Abbotsford and Newstead
Abbey.” 2 Most of the graves of Catholic Scotland have been rifled,
for any personal property they might contain. “They howkit up the Papist
corpses, and toomed them ower the brae” above the sea, in the present
century, at St. Andrews. |
234 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. | |
year before, and she was delighted to get back again, and to hail the
Cheviots on her return. It was plain to see she was her father’s darling, and she
talked of him with enthusiasm. She has a very natural, unaffected character, with a strong
tincture of romantic feeling, which seemed judiciously kept in check by him, as she said he did not allow her to read much poetry, nor had she even read
all his own poems, which were never to be found in the way, at their
house. She spoke of her sister and her brothers, with a warmth of affection very pleasing,
and if we may judge by so short an acquaintance, she seems likely to become a valuable
character. On asking what was become of Camp (the dog drawn in
the painting of Mr. Scott), she shook her head, and said he was dead.
‘You must never come to Abbotsford when any of the dogs die, for there is a
sad weeping amongst us all.’”
Miss Scott, as Lockhart says, in his brief and beautiful tribute to her memory, was, of
all his children, the one most like Sir Walter. It was
she who nearly fainted with emotion, at the discovery of the Scottish Regalia. (February 5,
1818.) “He never spoke all the way home, but every now and then I felt his arm
tremble; and from that time I fancied he began to treat me more like a woman than a
child. I thought he liked me better, too, than he had ever done before.”1 She it was who
sang the old songs that her father loved; she
was the Duke of Buccleuch’s “little
Jacobite.” Her portrait, by Nicholson,
in a kind of peasant costume, with a great hound looking up into her face, has an
expression of the sweetest humour and friendly charm. It is barely worth noting, as an
argument in the little controversy as to Sir Walter’s
Presbyterian or Episcopalian leanings, that Miss Scott and her sister
Anne were confirmed in April 1820.1 Lockhart and Miss
Scott were married at Abbotsford, in the evening, more Scotico, of April 29, 1820. Among the marriages of men of
letters, often far from happy, this, in spite of La
Rochefoucauld, was un mariage
délicieux, uninterrupted in its happiness, save by the misfortunes
of Sir Walter, and the ill health, first of the eldest boy, and, later, of Mrs.
Lockhart.
Sir William Allan (1782-1850)
Scottish painter who traveled in Russia and exhibited at the Royal Academy to which he
was elected in 1835; he was president of the Royal Scottish Academy (1838).
Attila the Hun (406-453)
Leader of the Huns whose conquests stretched from the Volga into Gaul.
James Ballantyne (1772-1833)
Edinburgh printer in partnership with his younger brother John; the company failed in the
financial collapse of 1826.
John Ballantyne (1774-1821)
Edinburgh publisher and literary agent for Walter Scott; he was the younger brother of
the printer James Ballantyne.
William Blackwood (1776-1834)
Edinburgh bookseller; he began business 1804 and for a time was John Murray's Scottish
agent. He launched
Blackwood's Magazine in 1817.
John William Burgon (1813-1888)
The son of Thomas Burgon (1787-1858), a Turkey merchant, he was educated at Oxford where
he was Gresham professor of Divinity (1867); he was dean of Chichester (1876-88).
Jean Burns [née Armour] (1765-1834)
The wife of Robert Burns who bore him several children before they were married in a
civil ceremony in 1788.
Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Scottish poet and song collector; author of
Poems, chiefly in the
Scottish Dialect (1786).
Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)
Scottish essayist and man of letters; he translated Goethe's
Wilhelm
Meister (1824) and published
Sartor Resartus
(1833-34).
Jonathan Henry Christie (1793-1876)
Educated at Marischal College, Baliol College, Oxford, and Lincoln's Inn; after slaying
John Scott in the famous duel at Chalk Farm he was acquitted of murder and afterwards
practiced law as a conveyancer in London. He was the lifelong friend of John Gibson
Lockhart and an acquaintance of John Keats.
William Clerk (1771-1847)
Edinburgh lawyer, the son of John Clerk of Eldin and brother of Lord Eldin (1757-1832);
he was Clerk of the Jury Court (1815) and a friend of Sir Walter Scott. He is said to be
the model for Darsie Latimer in
Redgauntlet.
Henry Cockburn, Lord Cockburn (1779-1854)
Scottish judge, reformer, and friend of Francis Jeffrey; he wrote a
Life of Lord Jeffrey (1852) and
Memorials of his Time
(1856).
Ernest Hartley Coleridge (1846-1920)
Literary scholar and editor, the son of Derwent Coleridge and grandson of Samuel Taylor
Coleridge; he was educated at Balliol College, Oxford.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
English poet and philosopher who projected
Lyrical Ballads (1798)
with William Wordsworth; author of
Biographia Literaria (1817),
On the Constitution of the Church and State (1829) and other
works.
Archibald Constable (1774-1827)
Edinburgh bookseller who published the
Edinburgh Review and works
of Sir Walter Scott; he went bankrupt in 1826.
Victor Cousin (1792-1867)
French proponent of Scottish Common Sense Philosophy and educational reform.
George Crabbe (1754-1832)
English poet renowned for his couplet verse and gloomy depictions of country persons and
places; author of the
The Village (1783),
The
Parish Register (1807),
The Borough (1810), and
Tales of the Hall (1819).
George Cranstoun, Lord Corehouse (1771-1850)
Scottish judge and scholar, the brother-in-law of Dugald Stewart and friend of Walter
Scott; he was raised to the bench in 1826 as Lord Corehouse.
John Wilson Croker (1780-1857)
Secretary of the Admiralty (1810) and writer for the
Quarterly
Review; he edited an elaborate edition of Boswell's
Life of
Johnson (1831).
Thomas De Quincey (1785-1859)
English essayist and man of letters; he wrote for the
London
Magazine and
Blackwood's, and was author of
Confessions of an English Opium-Eater (1821).
Edward Everett (1794-1865)
American statesman educated at Harvard College; he was editor of the
North American Review (1820-24), ambassador to Great Britain (1841-45), president
of Harvard (1846-49).
James Anthony Froude (1818-1894)
English historian and man of letters; he published
History of England
from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death of Elizabeth, 12 vols (1856-70).
Sir William Gell (1777-1836)
English traveler and archaeologist; author of the
Topography of
Troy (1804),
Geography and Antiquities of Ithaca (1807),
the
Itinerary of Greece, with a Commentary on Pausanias (1810),
Itinerary of the Morea (1817),
Narrative of a
Journey in the Morea (1823), and
Itinerary of Greece
(1827).
Johann Wolfgang Goethe (1749-1832)
German poet, playwright, and novelist; author of
The Sorrows of Young
Werther (1774) and
Faust (1808, 1832).
Anne Jane Hamilton, marchioness of Abercorn [née Gore] (1763-1827)
Daughter of the earl of Arran; in 1783 she married Henry Hatton (d. 1793), in 1800 John
James Hamilton, first marquess of Hamilton. She entertained literary figures at her villa
at Stanmore, among them Lady Morgan.
William Hazlitt (1778-1830)
English essayist and literary critic; author of
Characters of
Shakespeare's Plays (1817),
Lectures on the English Poets
(1818), and
The Spirit of the Age (1825).
James Hogg [The Ettrick Shepherd] (1770-1835)
Scottish autodidact, poet, and novelist; author of
The Queen's
Wake (1813) and
Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified
Sinner (1824).
Homer (850 BC fl.)
Poet of the
Iliad and
Odyssey.
Charles Hope, Lord Granton (1763-1851)
Educated at Edinburgh University, he was Tory MP for Edinburgh (1803-05) and Lord
President of Court of Session (1811-41).
Horace (65 BC-8 BC)
Roman lyric poet; author of
Odes,
Epistles, Satires, and the
Ars Poetica.
David Hume (1711-1776)
Scottish philosopher and historian; author of
Essays Moral and
Political (1741-42),
Enquiry concerning Human Understanding
(1748) and
History of Great Britain (1754-62).
Francis Jeffrey, Lord Jeffrey (1773-1850)
Scottish barrister, Whig MP, and co-founder and editor of the
Edinburgh
Review (1802-29). As a reviewer he was the implacable foe of the Lake School of
poetry.
Richard Jenkyns (1782-1854)
Educated at Balliol College, Oxford, where he was elected master in 1819; he was
vice-chancellor (1824-28) and dean of Wells (1845).
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
English man of letters, among many other works he edited
A Dictionary
of the English Language (1755) and Shakespeare (1765), and wrote
Lives of the Poets (1779-81).
Jordanes (550 fl.)
Roman official who composed
Getica, a history of the Goths written
in Constantinople.
John Keats (1795-1821)
English poet, author of
Endymion, "The Eve of St. Agnes," and
other poems, who died of tuberculosis in Rome.
William Laing (1764-1832)
Edinburgh bookseller who specialized in antiquarian and foreign books; he was the father
of the bookseller and antiquary David Laing.
Charles Lamb [Elia] (1775-1834)
English essayist and boyhood friend of Coleridge at Christ's Hospital; author of
Essays of Elia published in the
London
Magazine (collected 1823, 1833) and other works.
Sir Thomas Lawrence (1769-1830)
English portrait painter who succeeded Joshua Reynolds as painter in ordinary to the king
(1792); he was president of the Royal Academy (1820).
David Leslie, first Lord Newark (1601-1682)
Scottish general who in 1645 defeated James Graham, Marquis of Montrose at the Battle of
Philiphaugh; in 1651 he was defeated by Cromwell at the Battle of Worcester.
Sir John Leslie (1766-1832)
Professor of Mathematics at Edinburgh University, author of
Experimental Enquiries into the Nature and Properties of Heat (1804), and
contributor to the
Edinburgh Review.
John Gibson Lockhart (1794-1854)
Editor of the
Quarterly Review (1825-1853); son-in-law of Walter
Scott and author of the
Life of Scott 5 vols (1838).
John Hugh Lockhart (1821-1831)
The first child of John Gibson Lockhart and his wife Sophia, for whom Sir Walter Scott
wrote
Tales of a Grandfather (1828-1831).
Lawrence Lockhart (1795-1876)
The son of the Rev. John Lockhart and younger brother of John Gibson Lockhart; he was
minister of Inchinnan (1822-60) after which he resided on the family estate at Milton
Lockhart.
Henry Mackenzie (1745-1831)
Scottish man of letters, author of
The Man of Feeling (1770) and
editor of
The Mirror (1779-80) and
The
Lounger (1785-87).
Alexander Manners (d. 1825)
Edinburgh bookseller in partnership with Robert Miller from 1794 to 1825. He was an
acquaintance of Walter Scott.
William Ramsay Maule, first baron Panmure (1771-1852)
The second son of George Ramsay, eighth earl of Dalhousie; Scottish aristocrat, MP, and
member of the Whig Club who scandalized his contemporaries by his dissipation. Samuel
Smiles confuses him with his son Fox Maule (1801-74).
Robert Miller (1828 fl.)
Edinburgh bookseller; he was the partner of Alexander Manners (1794-1807) and afterwards
his successor.
James Montgomery (1771-1854)
English poet and editor of the
Sheffield Iris (1795-1825); author
of
The Wanderer of Switzerland (1806) and
The
World before the Flood (1813).
James Murray (d. 1835)
Journalist; he managed the foreign department at
The Times
newspaper during the editorship of Thomas Barnes.
John Murray II (1778-1843)
The second John Murray began the
Quarterly Review in 1809 and
published works by Scott, Byron, Austen, Crabbe, and other literary notables.
Macvey Napier (1776-1847)
Scottish barrister, editor of the
Encyclopedia Britannica, and
from 1829 editor of the
Edinburgh Review.
Francis Nicholson (1753-1844)
English watercolorist who first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1789; he was a founder
and president of the Society of Painters in Water Colours.
Joseph Parker (1830 fl.)
After an apprenticeship with Daniel Prince and matriculating at Oxford in 1798 he was an
Oxford bookseller on Broad Street.
John Playfair (1748-1819)
Professor of Mathematics at Edinburgh University and Whig man of letters who contributed
to the
Edinburgh Review.
Sir Henry Raeburn (1756-1823)
Scottish portrait painter and friend of Sir Walter Scott.
John Hamilton Reynolds (1794-1852)
English poet, essayist, and friend of Keats; he wrote for
The
Champion (1815-17) and published
The Garden of Florence; and
other Poems (1821).
Patrick Robertson [Peter] (1794-1855)
Scottish judge, poet, wit, and friend of John Wilson; familiarly known as “Peter,” in
1848 he was elected lord rector of Marischal College.
Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)
English poet, banker, and aesthete, author of the ever-popular
Pleasures of Memory (1792),
Columbus (1810),
Jaqueline (1814), and
Italy (1822-28).
Anne Scott (1803-1833)
Walter Scott's younger daughter who cared for him in his old age and died
unmarried.
James Scott [The Odontist] (1830 fl.)
The first dental specialist to practice in Glasgow, he was a member of the Royal
Philosophical Society of Glasgow (1803), afterward pilloried in
Blackwood's as “The Odontist.”. Blackwood's describes him as deceased in
1831.
John Scott (1784-1821)
After Marischal College he worked as a journalist with Leigh Hunt, edited
The Champion (1814-1817), and edited the
London
Magazine (1820) until he was killed in the duel at Chalk Farm.
James Sharp, archbishop of St Andrews (1618-1679)
Professor of Philosophy at St. Andrews; after his conversion to episcopacy he was made
archbishop in 1661. He was murdered by Covenenters on Magus Moor.
Louis Simond (1767-1831)
French-born American merchant and author of travel books.
Adam Smith (1723-1790)
Friend of David Hume and professor of logic at Glasgow University (1751); he wrote
Theory of the Moral Sentiments (1759) and
The
Wealth of Nations (1776).
Robert Southey (1774-1843)
Poet laureate and man of letters whose contemporary reputation depended upon his prose
works, among them the
Life of Nelson, 2 vols (1813),
History of the Peninsular War, 3 vols (1823-32) and
The Doctor, 7 vols (1834-47).
Thomas of Erceldoune (1220 c.-1297 c.)
Scottish poet and prophet; author (or supposed author) of the romance,
Sir Tristrem.
Patrick Fraser Tytler (1791-1849)
Sottish barrister, son of Alexander Fraser Tytler; he published
The
Life of the Admirable Crichton (1819),
History of Scotland
(1828-43), and other works.
John Williams (1792-1858)
Classical scholar educated at Balliol College, Oxford; he was a classmate of John Gibson
Lockhart and friend of Sir Walter Scott, whose son he tutored, and rector of the Edinburgh
Academy (1824-27, 1829-47).
John Wilson [Christopher North] (1785-1854)
Scottish poet and Tory essayist, the chief writer for the “Noctes Ambrosianae” in
Blackwood's Magazine and professor of moral philosophy at Edinburgh
University (1820).
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
With Coleridge, author of
Lyrical Ballads (1798), Wordsworth
survived his early unpopularity to succeed Robert Southey as poet laureate in 1843.
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. (1817-1980). Begun as the
Edinburgh Monthly Magazine,
Blackwood's assumed the name of its proprietor, William Blackwood after the sixth
number. Blackwood was the nominal editor until 1834.
The Champion. (1814-22). A Sunday London newspaper edited by John Scott (1784-1821); John Thelwall (1764-1834) was
proprietor and editor from 1818.
The Guardian. (1819-1825). A weekly Tory paper edited by Charles Knight from 1820-22.
The London Magazine. (1820-1829). Founded by John Scott as a monthly rival to
Blackwood's, the
London Magazine included among its contributors Charles Lamb, John Clare, Allan Cunningham,
Thomas De Quincey, and Thomas Hood.
The Scotsman. (1817-). An Edinburgh Liberal newspaper published weekly 1817-1855, afterwards daily; the original
proprietor was William Ritchie.
The Times. (1785-). Founded by John Walter, The Times was edited by Thomas Barnes from 1817 to 1841. In the
romantic era it published much less literary material than its rival dailies, the
Morning Chronicle and the
Morning
Post.