ening eyes the humble cottage in which his friend proposed to lodge him, his wife, and his little ones, and said to himself that he should write no more sad songs on Forest Flittings.* Scott's notes to him at this time afford a truly charming picture of thoughtful and respectful delicacy on both sides. Mr Laidlaw, for example, appears to have hinted that he feared his friend, in making the proposal as to the house at Kaeside, might have perhaps in some degree overlooked the feelings of "Laird Moss," who, having sold his land several months before, had as yet continued to occupy his old homestead. Scott answers : "To Mr W. Laidlaw. "Edinburgh, April 5, 1817. "MY DEAR SIR,—Nothing can give me more pleasure than the prospect of your making yourself comfortable at Kaeside till some good thing casts up. I have not put Mr Moss to any inconvenience, for I only requested an answer, giving him leave to sit if he had a mind—and of free will he leaves my premises void and redd at Whitsunday. I suspect the house is not in good order, but we shall get it brushed up a little. Without affectation I consider myself the obliged party in this matter-or at any rate it is a mutual benefit, and you shall have grass for a cow, and so forth-whatever you want. I am sure when you are so near I shall find some literary labour for you that will make ends meet. Yours in haste, "W. SCOTT." He had before this time made considerable progress in another historical sketch (that of the year 1815) for the Edinburgh Annual Register; and the first literary labour which he provided for Laidlaw, appears to have been arranging for the same volume a set of newspaper articles, usually printed under the head of Chronicle, to which were appended some little extracts of new books of travels, and the like miscellanies. The Edinburgh Monthly Magazine, subsequently known by the name of its projector, Blackwood, commenced in April of this year; and one of its editors, Mr Thomas Pringle, being a Teviotdale man and an old acquaintance of Laidlaw's, offered to the latter the care of its Chronicle department also,-not perhaps without calculating that, in case Laidlaw's connexion with the new journal should become at all a strict one, Scott would be induced to give it occasionally the benefit of his own literary assistance. He accordingly did not write -being unwell at the time-but dictated to Pringle a collection of anecdotes concerning Scottish gypsies, which attracted a good deal of notice; and, I believe, he also assisted Laidlaw in drawing up one or Mr Laidlaw has not published many verses; but his song of "Lucy's Flitting" -a simple aud pathetic picture of a poor Ettrick maiden's feelings in leaving a service where she had been happy-has long been and must ever be a favourite with all who understand the delicacies of the Scottish dialect, and the manners of the district in which the scene is laid. These anecdotes were subsequently inserted in the Introduction to Guy Mannering. more articles on the subject of Scottish superstitions. But the bookseller and Pringle soon quarrelled, and, the Magazine assuming, on the retirement of the latter, a high Tory character, Laidlaw's Whig feelings induced him to renounce its alliance; while Scott, having no kindness for Black wood personally, and disapproving (though he chuckled over it) the reckless extravagance of juvenile satire, which, by and by, distinguished his journal, appears to have easily acquiesced in the propriety of Laidlaw's determination. I insert mean time a few notes, which will show with what care and kindness he watched over Laidlaw's operations for the Annual Register. "To Mr Laidlaw, at Kaeside. "Edinburgh, June, 16, 1817. "DEAR SIR,-I enclose you rare guerdon,' better than remuneration,namely, a cheque for L.25, for the Chronicle part of the Register. The incidents selected should have some reference to amusement as well as information, and may be occasionally. abridged in the narration; but, after all, paste and scissors form your principal materials. You must look out for two or three good original articles; and, if you would read and take pains to abridge one or two curious books of travels, I would send out the volumes. Could I once get the head of the concern fairly round before the wind again, I am sure I could make it L. 100 a-year to you. In the present instance it will be at least L.50. Yours truly, W. S." "MY DEAR SIR,-I send you Adam's and Riley's Travels. You will observe I don't want a review of the books, or a detail of these persons' adventures, but merely a short article expressing the light, direct or doubtful, which they have thrown on the interior of Africa. Recent Discoveries in Africa,' will be a proper title. I hope to find you materially amended, or rather quite stout, when I come out on Saturday. I am quite well this morning. Yours, in haste, W. S. P.S.-I add Mariner's Tonga Islands and Campbell's Voyage. Pray, take great care of them, as I am a coxcomb about my books, and hate specks or spots. Take care of yourself, and want for nothing that Abbotsford can furnish. But I These notes have carried us down to the middle of the year. must now turn to some others which show that before Whitsuntide, when Laidlaw settled at Kaeside, negociations were on foot respecting another novel. "To Mr John Ballantyne, Hanover Street, Edinburgh. 66 Abbotsford, Monday. [April, 1817.] "DEAR JOHN,-I have a good subject for a work of fiction in petto. What do you think Constable would give for a smell of it? You ran away without taking leave the other morning, or I wished to have spoken to you about it. I don't mean a continuation of Jedediah, because there might be some delicacy in putting that by the original publishers. You may write if any thing occurs to you on this subject. It will not interrupt my History. By the way, I have a great lot of the Register ready for delivery, and no man asks for it. I shall want to pay up some cash at Whitsunday, which will make me draw on my brains. Yours truly, "W. SCOTT." "To the Same. "Abbotsford, Saturday, May 3, 1817. DEAR JOHN,-I shall be much obliged to you to come here with Constable on Monday, as he proposes a visit, and it will save time. By the way, you must attend that the usual quantity of stock is included in the arrangement-that is L.600 for 6000 copies. My sum is L. 1700, payable in May-a round advance, by'r Lady, but I think I am entitled to it, considering what I have twined off hitherto on such occasions. "I make a point on your coming with Constable, health allowing. Yours truly, W. S." The result of this meeting is indicated in a note scribbled by John Ballantyne at the bottom of the foregoing letter before it was seen by his brother the printer. 66 'Half-past 3 o'clock, Tuesday. "DEAR JAMES,-I am this moment returned from Abbotsford, with entire and full success. Wish me joy. I shall gain above L.600-Constable taking my share of stock also. The title is Rob Roy-by the author of Waverley!!! Keep this letter for me. J. B." On the same page there is written, in fresher ink, which marks, no doubt, the time when John pasted it into his collection of private papers now before me- N.B.-I did gain above L.1200. -J. B." The title of this novel was suggested by Constable, and he told me years afterwards the difficulty he had to get it adopted by the author. "What!" said he, "Mr Accoucheur, must you be setting up for Mr Sponsor too?—but let's hear it." Constable said the name of the real hero would be the best possible name for the book. "Nay," answered Scott, "never let me have to write up to a name. You well know I have generally adopted a title that told nothing."-The bookseller, however, persevered; and after the trio had dined, these scruples gave way. On rising from table, according to Constable, they sallied out to the green before the door of the cottage, and all in the highest spirits enjoyed the fine May evening. John Ballantyne, hopping up and down, in his glee, exclaimed, "is Rob's gun here, Mr Scott; would you object to my trying the auld barrel with a few de joy?" "Nay, Mr Puff,” said Scott, "it would burst and blow you to the devil before your time." "Johnny, my man," said Constable, "what the mischief puts drawing at sight into your head ?" Scott laughed heartily, at this inuendo; and then observing that the little man felt somewhat sore, called attention to the notes of a bird in the adjoining shrubbery. "And by the by," said he, as they continued listening, “'tis a long time, Johnny, since we have had the Cobbler of Kelso." Mr Puff forthwith jumped up on a mass of stone, and seating himself in the proper attitude of one working with his awl, began a favourite inter lude, mimicking a certain son of Crispin, at whose stall Scott and he had often lingered when they were schoolboys, and a blackbird, the only companion of his cell, that used to sing to him, while he talked and whistled to it all day long. With this performance Scott was always delighted: nothing could be richer than the contrast of the bird's wild sweet notes, some of which he imitated with wonderful skill, and the accompaniment of the Cobbler's hoarse cracked voice, uttering all manner of endearing epithets, which Johnny multiplied and varied in a style worthy of the Old Women in Rabelais at the birth of Pantagruel. I often wondered that Matthews, who borrowed so many good things from John Ballantyne, allowed this Cobbler, which was certainly the masterpiece, to escape him. Scott himself had probably exceeded that evening the three glasses. of wine sanctioned by his Sangrados. "I never," said Constable," had found him so disposed to be communicative about what he meant to do. Though he had had a return of his illness but the day before, he continued for an hour or more to walk backwards and forwards on the green, talking and laughing-he told us he was sure he should make a hit on a Glasgow weaver, whom he would ravel up with Rob; and fairly outshone the Cobbler, in an extempore dialogue between the bailie and the cateran-something not unlike what the book gives us as passing in the Glasgow tolbooth." Mr Puff might well exult in the " full and entire success" of this trip to Abbotsford. His friend had made it a sine qua non in the bargain with Constable, that he should have a third share in the bookseller's moiety of the copyright-and though Johnny had no more trouble about the publishing or selling of Rob Roy than his own Cobbler of Kelso, this stipulation had secured him a bonus of L.1200, before two. years passed. Moreover, one must admire his adroitness in persuading Constable, during their journey back to Edinburgh, to relieve him of that fraction of his own old stock, with which his unhazardous share in the new bargain was burdened. Scott's kindness continued as long as John Ballantyne lived to provide for him a constant succession of similar advantages at the same easy rate; and Constable, from deference to Scott's wishes, and from his own liking for the humorous auctioneer, appears to have submitted with hardly a momentary grudge to this heavy tax on his most important ventures. The same week Scott received Southey's celebrated letter to Mr William Smith, M.P. for Norwich. The poet of Keswick had also forwarded to him somewhat earlier his Pilgrimage to Waterloo, which piece contains a touching allusion to the affliction the author had recently sustained in the death of a fine boy. Scott's letter on this occasion was as follows: * To Robert Southey, Esq., Keswick, "Selkirk, May 9th, 1817. "MY DEAR SOUTHEY, I have been a strangely negligent correspondent for some months past, more especially as I have had you rarely out of my thoughts, for I think you will hardly doubt of my sincere sympathy in events which have happened since I have written. I shed sincere tears over the Pilgrimage to Waterloo. But in the crucible of human life, the purest gold is tried by the strongest heat, and I can only hope for the continuance of your present family blessings to one so well formed to enjoy the pure happiness they afford. My health has, of late, been very indifferent. I was very nearly succumbing under a violent inflammatory attack, and still feel the effects of the necessary treatment. I believe they took one-third of the blood of my system, and blistered in proportion; so that both my flesh and my blood have been in a wofully reduced state. I got out here some weeks since, where, by dint of the insensible exercise which one takes in the country, I feel myself gathering strength daily, but am still obliged to observe a severe regimen. It was not to croak about myself, however, that I took up the pen, but to wish you joy of your triumphant answer to that coarse-minded William Smith. He deserved all he has got, and, to say the truth, you do not spare him, and have no cause. His attack seems to have proceeded from the vulgar insolence of a low mind desirous of attacking genius at disadvantage. It is the ancient and eternal strife of which the witch speaks in Thalaba. Such a man as he feels he has no alliance with such as you, and his evil instincts lead him to treat as hostile whatever he cannot comprehend. I met Smith once during his stay in Edinburgh,* and had, what I seldom bave with any one in society, a high quarrel with him. His mode of travelling had been from one gentleman's seat to another, abusing the well known hospitality of the Highland lairds by taking possession of their houses, even during their absence, domineering in them when they were present, and not only eating the dinner of to-day, but requiring that the dinner of to-morrow should also be made ready and carried forward with him, to save the expense of inns. All this was no business of mine, but when, in the middle of a company consisting of those to whom he had owed this hospitality, he abused the country, of which he knew little the language, of which he knew nothing-and the people, who have their faults, but are a much more harmless, moral, and at the same time high-spirited population than, I venture to say, he ever lived amongst I thought it was really too bad, and so e'en took up the debate, and gave it him over the knuckles as smartly as I could. Your pamphlet, therefore, fed fat my ancient grudge against him as well as the modern one, for you cannot doubt that my blood boiled at reading the report of his speech. Enough of this gentleman, who, I think, will not walk out of the round in a hurry again, to slander the conduct of individuals. "I am at present writing at our head-court of freeholders—a set of quiet, unpretending, but sound-judging country gentlemen, and whose opinions may be very well taken as a fair specimen of those men of sense and honour, who are not likely to be dazzled by literary talent, which lies out of their beat, and who, thereföre, cannot be of partial counsel in the cause; and I never heard an opinion more generally, and even warmly expressed, than that your triumphant vindication brands Smith as a slanderer in all time coming. I think you may not be displeased to know this, because what men of keen feelings and literary pursuits must have felt cannot be unknown to you, and you may not have the same access to know the impression made upon the general class of society. "I have to thank you for the continuation of the History of Brazil-one of your gigantic labours; the fruit of a mind so active, yet so patient of labour. 1 * Scott's meeting with this Mr Smith occurred at the table of his friend and colleague, Hector Macdonald Buchanan. The company, except Scott and Smith, were all, like their hospitable landlord, Highlanders. |