“I have your kind letter, and am infinitely obliged
to you for your solicitude in my behalf. I have indeed been rather fortunate,
for the gale which has shattered so many goodly argosies, has blown my little
bark into the creek for which she was bound, and left me only to lament the
misfortunes of my friends. To vary the simile, while the huge frigates, the
Moira and Lauderdale, were fiercely combating for the dominion of the
Caledonian main, I was fortunate enough to get on board the good ship Spencer, and leave them to settle their disputes
at leisure. It is said to be a violent ground of controversy in the new
Ministry, which of those two noble lords is to be St Andrew for Scotland. I own
I tremble for the consequences of so violent a
| 92 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“Heber is just
come in, with your letter waving in his hand. I am ashamed of all the trouble I
have given you, and at the same time flattered to find your friendship even
equal to that greatest and most disagreeable of all trials, the task of
solicitation. Mrs Scott is not with me, and
I am truly concerned to think we should be so near, without the prospect of
meeting. Truth is, I had half a mind to make a run up to Bath, merely to break
the spell which has prevented our meeting for these two years. But Bindley, the collector, has lent me a parcel
of books, which he insists on my consulting within the liberties of
Westminster, and which I cannot find elsewhere, so that the fortnight I propose
to stay, will be fully occupied by examination and extracting. How long I may
be detained here is very uncertain, but I wish to leave London on Saturday
se’ennight. Should I be so delayed as to bring my time of departure any
thing near that of your arrival, I will stretch my furlough to the utmost, that
I may have a chance of seeing you. Nothing is minded here but domestic
politics, and if we are not clean swept, there is no want of new brooms to
perform that operation. I have heard very bad news of Leyden’s health since my arrival here—
| LONDON, FEBRUARY, 1806. | 93 |
“P.S. Poor Lord Melville! How does he look? We have had miserable accounts of his health in London. He was the architect of my little fortune, from circumstances of personal regard merely; for any of my trifling literary acquisitions were out of his way. My heart bleeds when I think on his situation
|
‘Even when the rage of battle ceased,
The victor’s soul was not
appeased.’”*
|
