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 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 or 
 
 JOHN GALT. 
 
 H ( 
 y S- 
 
 I WILL A ROUND UNVARNISHED TALE DELIVER." 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 t 
 
 I 
 
 ■4- 
 
 1 * 
 
 i 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 philadelphia, 
 publkshp:d by key and biddle. 
 
 J. CLA.RKE, PRINTER. 
 1833. 
 
I« 
 
 : A" 
 
 # 
 
 Jyi 
 
1 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 This Autobiography does not consist of confessions, but only 
 of such a series of transactions as may be candidly related. — 
 Individuals have been spoken of in a strain which the Au- 
 thor did nut find pleasant, and it would have been more 
 conLrenial to Ins taste, could he have omitted all notice of them. 
 In several cases he has suppressed names. The feelings 
 and recollections associated with them, unfortunately, could 
 not be suppressed ; in all, however, he has delivered himself 
 as he felt, and will be happy to receive cause to retract any of 
 his animadversions. 
 
 With another description of persons he has not been less 
 free ; throughout the book he has, to use an old proverb, en- 
 deavoured to describe the ford as he found it, and to treat good 
 and evil occurrences with equal impartiality. 
 
 It is, however, not in human nature, to speak of suffer- 
 ing and misfortune with the same equanimity as of friend- 
 ship and favour but if it shall be thought that his sentiments 
 in latter years towards the world are less gracious than those 
 of earlier times, let it be recollected in mitigation of the 
 severity of criticism, that he has not been able to front adver- 
 sity, and has had a larger experience of its 
 ' Iron scourge, and torturing hour.' 
 
 In proceeding with the narrative he is very sensible of hav- 
 ing neglected, apparently, many persons by whom he has been 
 greatly obliged, but they must see, themselves, that he could 
 not mention their names without referring to incidents, which 
 however, a biographer may think himself warranted to ex- 
 plore, the writer of his own memoirs may be excused for not 
 bringing forward. He cannot say more without, in the opinion 
 
 ^m 
 
11 
 
 h ' 
 
 IV 
 
 of the judicious, violating propriety. 'I'lic innn nlio hasj^jvpn 
 hostages to society, 18 bound to respect flicir fcclinjjs quite a» 
 much as his own. 
 
 The printing of the b(jok had proceeded some lengtli befor<^ 
 it occurred to him, that, })erhaps, several «^entlenien to whom 
 he has alluded by name, niig-ht not be satisfied with seeing 
 themselves so plac^ed before the public. But he can mako 
 no other ajxjlogy fur the liberty he has inadvtjrtently taken, 
 than by stating the trutii, which is, that having only good to 
 say of them, it did not at first occur to him, that in doing so 
 lie was committing' any error. Besides, some sort of ex- 
 tenuation of the tault m.iy bo allowed, when it is recollected 
 that it was made as a final exi)ression and testimony to their 
 worth. — Had he then been as well as he is now, he would 
 probably have been more guarded ; as it is, however, nothing 
 could be further from his thoughts than to give olfence. He 
 only refers to the circumstance here, because the respectable 
 in private life do not like to be drawn from the shelter of 
 seclusion. He recollects how much he was once affected, 
 when a young man, at seeing himself alluded to by name, in 
 a biographical sketch, though it was evidently done in kind- 
 ness : he judges of the feelings of others by his own. 
 
 There is a more serious charge which may be brought 
 against him, than that of speaking gvatoluUy of those who may 
 not themselves like it. It is in saying so umch about him- 
 self; but it was a task imposed by the nature of the work, 
 and not a matter in which he had any choice. Egotism is 
 at all times an odious habit; though it is but a habit after 
 all: could it have been avoided in an autobiography, it cer- 
 tainly would have had no place here, even though the author 
 had possessed the alchemy of converting seeming vanity into 
 any thing so pure and precious as naivete. He hopes, how- 
 ever, he has not oflTended in what he has said of himself, be- 
 yond the good-natured reader's indulgence ; for on all occa- 
 sions he has attempted to show that he was aware of the 
 light in which egotistical garrulity might bo considered, even 
 by the liveliest, awake to its vanity and weakness. 
 
 I 
 
 T* 
 
(V.) 
 
 He deprecates the animadversions to which the work is lia- 
 ble for many other faults, besides those which are derived 
 from defects inherent in tlie author. When it was commen- 
 ced, he was afflicted to a very great degree, by the infirmity, 
 which has probably rendered him an invalid for the remainder 
 of his life. Ho could neither write nor read the manuscript 
 himself; many of the proof sheets he was unable to correct, 
 and mistakes, which may be observed in them, have escaped 
 detection in the process of hearing the press-work only read 
 over. His amanuensis was a bov, save when some accidental 
 friendly visitor was good enough to take the pen. — The errors 
 however, are less owing to a want of proper respect for the 
 public, than to the circumstances of his condition ; for al- 
 though he complains of being a feeble cripple, and that his 
 "right hand has lost its cunning," his ails are not circumscri- 
 bed to these afflictions." 
 
 His habits wore ar-tive, princ to motion and, perhaps 
 from the sedentary change induced, he endures more than 
 can well be conceived by those who have their impatience 
 in better discipline. His acutest sense of calamity arises from 
 his inability to employ himself in other pursuits than in 
 those of literature ; and he very earnestly prays that the 
 reader may not have reason to sympathise with his lamenta- 
 tions on that account. But it is not easy to describe the mis- 
 eries of being suddenly transmuted from activity, into the 
 passive inertness of wearisome inability to perform, unassist- 
 ed, the commonest actions. It is only not so dreadful as 
 the state of the Siamese, with the corpse of his brother on 
 his back, but worse than the shackling of the living and the 
 dead together ; for, in that eastern torture, the spirit feels 
 not the incarceration which makes the imprisoning flesh more 
 dismal than fetters or chains. 
 
 Though, like all men, he has tasted the bitterness of the 
 world, yet in speaking of those by whom he has not been 
 conciliated to regard the human race as better than they re- 
 ally are, he hopes, that it will not appear he has indulged 
 in much acrimony. Hs principles incline him to consider 
 
 MM 
 
(vi.) 
 
 tho vices as morbid Becrotions of t'lc moral constitution — 
 the workinu^s ofori<jfinil sin, — and surely the victims of dis- 
 ease ought rather to bo viewed witli compassion than as 
 objects of iiate and detestation. But no man likes to asso- 
 ciate witli a snake, and he may, in consequence, at tnnes 
 have forgotten his creed, und used expressions of resent- 
 ment that derive no beauty from energy, nor virtue from 
 their accordance with the errors of humanity. But in sad se- 
 riousness he considers the penalties, which society inflict 
 for aberrations, abundantly known to those who incur them. 
 Their inethcacy to accomplish correction, proves the invet- 
 eracy of the disease, which may be either mnato, accidental, 
 or chronic. No man can change his appearance by volun- 
 tary resolution ; ho can only improve it a little by discipline ; 
 and with the mind it is as with the body, we cannot alter the 
 Btructure, but its vigour may be increased by training, or its 
 complexion rendered more delicate by study. He would ra- 
 ther remember wrongs with comniissoration, than ruminate 
 on vindictive tiioughts, both naturally and from principle : 
 and yet perhaps he lias not lived so long, without having re- 
 ceived some cause to justify more sullenness towards mankind 
 
 The memoir terminates with his last imminent illness 
 but though it was undoubtedly an epochal event, it has not 
 been followed by such a change in his habits, as it might have 
 becii supposed to have produced ; it has however, obliged him 
 to have recourse to dictation ; in other respects, as the pre- 
 sent work demonstrates, it has not greatly affected his famili- 
 arity with the reader. 
 
 September 12th, 1833. 
 
THE SEPARATE WORKS OF JOHN GALT. 
 
 Those with a * are anonymous. 
 
 No. of Vols. 
 1 
 
 3d 
 
 Dramas published in 
 
 * The Battle of Larffs 
 Voyages and Travels; 4to. 
 Letters from the Levant ; 8vo. 
 Life and Administration of Cardinal Wolsey ; 4to 
 
 Edit. 8vo. . . . . 
 
 Maddalen 
 Agamenmon 
 Lady Macbeth . 
 Antonia 
 Clytemnestra 
 Lit(3 of Benjamin West, published in Two Parts. 
 
 * Tlie Majolo, published separately 
 * 'I'he Witness, a Drama 
 The Watchhouse, a Farce 
 
 The Mermaid, a Drama 
 
 * Orpheus, an Opera 
 
 * The Mascjuerade, a Comedy 
 
 * The Prophetess, a Drama 
 
 * The Sorceress, do. 
 
 * The Apostate, do. 
 *The Hector, a Cento 
 *The W^ord of Honour, a Comedy I 
 
 * I.jove, Honour, and Interest, do. J 
 
 * Edward HI., a Historical Play. 
 Historical Pictures 
 
 The Wandering Jew 
 
 N. B. Published by Souter, as by the Rev. Mr.' Clarke! 
 The initials of the last sentences are, " This book was 
 written by John Gait." 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 2 
 
 Published in the New 
 British Theatre. 
 
 2 
 1 
 
1 
 
 (viii) 
 
 No. of Vols. 
 
 An Abridgement of Modern Travels in Asia, (under the 
 
 name of the Rev. Mr. Clarke) 
 In Stevenson's Lives of the Admirals :— 
 
 ♦The Life of Admiral liawke. 
 
 ♦The Life of Admiral Byron, revised by Lord Byron. 
 
 * The Life of Admiral Rodney. 
 
 Children's Books : — 
 
 * The Rocking' Horse. 
 
 * Gog and Magog. 
 
 ♦ The Crusade, a Poem. .... 1 
 ♦The Earthquake .... 3 
 
 ♦ The Ayrshire Legatees , . . . 1 
 
 ♦ The Annals of the Parish ... 1 
 
 ♦ The Provost ..... 1 
 
 ♦ The Steam Boat .... 1 
 
 ♦ Sir Andrew Wylie . . . . . 3 
 
 ♦ The Entail ..... 3 
 
 ♦ The Gathering of the West . . . . 1 
 
 ♦ The Last of the Lairds .... 1 
 
 ♦ The Omen . .... 1 
 ♦Ringham Gilha'ze . . . . . 3 
 
 ♦ The Spaewife ..... 3 
 
 ♦ Rothelan . . . , . . 3 
 Laurie Todd . . . . . 3 
 
 Southennan ...... .M 
 
 Bogle Corbet .... .3 
 
 Stanley Buxton . , , , . 3 
 
 Eben Erskine . . . . . . 3 
 
 The Stolen Child ..... 1 
 
 The Lives of the Players . . . . 2 
 
 The Life of Lord Byron .... 1 
 
 ♦The Life of William Spence, prefixed to his Essay on 
 
 Logarithmic Transccndants . . . - . 1 
 Ouranoulogos, or celestial volume illustrated by Mr. Martin. 1 
 
 The Member . . . . . . 1 
 
 The Radical . . . . 1 
 
 N. B. — These are all I recollect. The greatest part are 
 anonymous ; besides three pamphlets, one on the trade in 
 the West Indies and our North American colonies. " The 
 
 " Speech not Spoken," and " Cursory Remarks." A vast 
 
 York. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 EPOCH FIRST. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Puire. 
 
 Introdiii'tinn. — niilli. — Removal toCJrPonock. — Early ac- 
 cidenls. — Passion for llowerr^. — The Buclumites. — 
 A ^raiid procession at Kilnrirnock for the Duchess of 
 Portland and Lady Canning - - - - 1 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 A View of tho Falls of Niajrara. — A storm. — Predilec- 
 tion f(jr books. — Liout. (iuolihind, — A schoolmaster. — 
 Lord Boyle. — Mr. Eckford, of New York. — Marion 
 < 'raw lord.— Mr. Eckford's death - . . - tJ 
 
 CHAPTER HL 
 
 Gardenino-. — Temper. — Opposition to my Studies. — Me- 
 chanical taste. — Music, — Schemes and projects - 11 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Attachment to Greenock. — Mr. Park. — Of his accom- 
 plishments. — Displeased with him - - Id 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mr. Ewing-. — Strange dream. — Subsequent calamities. — 
 A first attempt at verse-making. — Mr. Miller's Gar- 
 land. — His pompous language - - - - 19 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Residence at Greenock. — Tour to Edinburgh. — Excursion to 
 Durham. — Mrs. Siddons 24 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 
 Page 
 
 Town library. — Locking'-up of books. — A plot. — The re- 
 call of the books. — Corps of sharp-shooters. — Rejec- 
 tion. — Resolutions thereon. — Godwin's Polital Justice. 
 — Origin of moral sentiments - - - - 27 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Monthly Society. — Nature of the lipeculations.— A poem 
 by Park. — An (xle. — Tlie Greenock Advertiser. — Con- 
 tributions.— The editor.—The Battle of Hohenlinden. — 
 Campbell. — The Pleasures ot Hope - - - 32 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Course of reading. — A great victory. — Gothic Antiqui- 
 ties. — Ode, — Tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots. — 
 Works illustrative of Scottish History - - - 39 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Conclusion of the first epoch 42 
 
 m 
 
 SECOND EPOCH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory letters. — Scarcely of any use. — Discover a 
 partner. — Tlie result 45 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Six months in London. — Change of Character. — First 
 publication. — Gotliic poem. — Battle of Largs. — Criti- 
 cisms. — Mysteries. — Diplomacy. — Suppression of the 
 Poem 4S 
 
 CHAPTER IIJ. 
 
 An amiable trait of human nature. — Anecdote of Lord 
 Erskine. — Mr. Archibald Thompson, the engineer. — 
 Singular instance of gratitude - ... 54 
 
 ,s 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XI 
 
 Page 
 
 27 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 32 
 
 39 
 
 42 
 
 45 
 
 48 
 
 54 
 
 M 
 
 4 ■. 
 
 Studies ill London. — Family histories. — Metaphysical 
 observations. — Crimes and punishments 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Page 
 57 
 
 Crimes and sins. — How considered by legislatures. — They 
 are diseases. — Effects of the French Revolution 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Free trade. — Differ from the government plans. — An ac- 
 cident with respect to Upper Canada . - - 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Embarraa«5ments in business. — Go to Greenock. — Return 
 to London. — An interview. — Meeting of correspon- 
 dent's creditors called. — Support from Mr. Gemmel 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The meeting. — Attempt at relief. — Failure. — Singular 
 trait of generosity 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Renewal of business. — Farce of the Watch-house. — An 
 occurrence. — Brother established at Honduras. — Enter 
 of Lincoln's Inn. — Go abroad. — Reflections 
 
 THIRD EPOCH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 First meetmg with Byron. — Land at Cagliari. — Dine 
 with the Ambassador. — Byron's crandiloquent thanks 
 to him. — Byron and llobhou.se wait in the packet to be 
 saluted at Malta. — Guns sulky. — Byron and Ilobhouse 
 reduced to a state of beggary. — Relieved by Mr. Cha- 
 bot. — HospituUty of the Maltese merchants 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 Statistical account of Sicily. — Visits to Mr. Fagan. — Stu- 
 dy of Anti(piities. — Refused permission to go to Rome: 
 —An eclogue 
 
 61 
 
 63 
 
 67 
 
 72 
 
 76 
 
 79 
 
 85 
 
 -* 
 
xii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Page 
 
 Banquet in Palermo. — Character of the Sicilians. — San 
 to Stephano. — an hospitable archbishop. — Remark of 
 his grace. — His establishment. — A prison for convicts. 
 Crossed from Sicily to Malta in an open boat - 90 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Take passage forSpezzia. — A storm — Anchor at Valona, 
 —Albanians. — A puppy Turk. — The Secretary's sala- 
 ry.— An adventure - . - - - - 95 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 Leave Patras for Corinth. — Aspect of the landscape re- 
 sembles the Firth of Clyde seen from Bishopton Hill. 
 — From Corintii to Tripolizza. — Scheme of counter- 
 actins the Berlin and Milan decrees first conceived. — 
 Meet a descendant of the Paleologi. — The history and 
 extinction of the family in England. — Proceed to 
 
 Athens 100 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Athens. — Reside at a Monastery. — Meet again Lord By- 
 ron and Mr. Hobhouse. — Unprofitable industry. — Coin- 
 cidence. — Ode, suggested by the state of Greece 106 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 Elgin marbles. — The Atheniad - - . . 109 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 Hydra. — Zea. — Scios. — Measure a brass cannon. — Sim- 
 plicity of the Turks 119 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Ephesus. — Cherubims. — Sailed for Samos. — Myconi. — ' 
 House there. — Malta. — Resolved to return to the Le- 
 vant. — A note 121 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Land at Cerigo. — British soldiers in the blue devils. — 
 Hospitalities.— Land among the Mainots. — Negocia- 
 tions 124 
 
 ■ -ft 
 9k 
 
 ■,.yrr 
 
 f 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XUl 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 
 Page 
 
 128 
 
 Tripolizza. — Athens. — Drinks of the Castalian Spring. — 
 Fatal effects. — Nearly immortalized in Thermopylffi. — 
 Much to do about nothing.— Slingers in Pompey's 
 army. — Darissa. — An ode. — Vale of Tempe. — Thesea- 
 lonica ----_->- 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Constantinople. — Excursion to Nicomedia. — Stay with 
 a Turkish gentleman. — Ladies of the harem. — A jour- 
 ney. — A bishop ------- 132 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 V'ilhi Pasha. — A vizier's camp. — Fallacy of continental 
 armies. — Incapability of the Ottomans for war. - 135 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 An Adventure. — Reflections. - - - . . 138 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 VViddin. — Inquiries. — Pasha's dragoman. — Visit to the 
 pasha. — Intrigues. — Visit lo the Russian camp - 140 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A romantic adventure. — Leave Widdin. — Vexation in a 
 cottage. — The old bishop of Sophia. — A mysterious ad- 
 venture. — Return to Christendom. — Missolonghi. — In- 
 dustry in the Lazaretto of Messina. - - - 146 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 iSiirduua. — A visit from the Ru-ssian ambassador. — Go to 
 (jibnillar. — Thence to (^ork. — State of crime in Ire- 
 land. — Proceed home. — End of the Third Epoch. - 151 
 
 EPOCH FOURTH. 
 
 CHAPTER [. 
 
 Perindical estimates. — Abandon the intention of studying 
 the hw.-- Also ihe Levantscheme. — Publish travels. — 
 Renew ac'iuaintance vv'ith Lord Byron. - - - 156 
 
XIV 
 
 I 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Page 
 
 Critiques on Travels. — Brother's opinion. — Political pre- 
 dictions. — Their fulfilment, . - - .. I6(l 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Transit trade through Turkey. — Go back to Cibraltar. — 
 London. — Marry. — Adventure with Mrs. Mary Ann 
 Clarke. 165 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Interview with Mrs!. Clarke. — Peruse her papers. — Ad- 
 vise her to suppress her publication. — Some account of 
 her. — Her separation from tiie Duke of York. - - 169 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Death of my brother. — A legacy. — A lawsuit — Hasten- 
 ing on the end of the world, .... 173 
 
 CHAPTER VI, 
 
 Excursion to France. — Stop at Rouen. — Paris. — Conver- 
 sazione, — Royal performance at the Theatre. — Brus- 
 .sels. — Holland. — Tlie Imperial Russian Princes. - 176 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Talk of a third thcntre. — A tragic event. — The Rejected 
 Theatre. — New British Theatre.— Performance of the 
 Appeal.— Sir Walter Scott's play. - - - . 179 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Hector i cento in the New British Theatre. - - 188 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 < 'aledonian Asylum. — A sordid tran.saction.— Go to Green- 
 ock. — Return to London. 185 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Reflections. — Agent for the Canada claims. — Correspon- 
 dence with the Treasury. — Interview at Fife House. — 
 Arrangement, — Not carried info effect. — Go to Scot- 
 land. — Answer from Canada. — Further proceedings. . 188 
 
 
 .?», 
 
 '.'4- 
 
 ■J- 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XV 
 
 Page 
 16(1 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 169 
 
 Page 
 
 176 
 
 The arrival of an Indian chief. — His business. — The 
 Duke of Norlhiiinberland interested in it. — His Grace 
 sends Colonel Talbot to the Colonial Office. — Promise 
 of the business being amicably settled. - - - 192 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 * "ourte^y of the Colonial dcjjartnient. — Party spirit in 
 (.'anada. — The secret resolutions of the Commissioners. 
 — Character of correspondence. — Origin of the Canada 
 ('om|)any. — Case. 197 
 
 E 1» O C H F I F T H . 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Canada Company. — Original view. — Embark in the 
 Romiiey man-of-war. — Journey tiirough the state of 
 New York. — Civilities of the Americans. — Reach Up- 
 ner Canada. 202 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. 
 
 185 
 
 188 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 An act of justice. — Civility of the newspaper editors. — 
 Finishing of the Commission. — Return. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Proposal. — The Clergy Corporation of Upper Canada 
 interfere. — The commissioners ])ut on their deience. — 
 A new bargain. — Dextrous manonivre of Archdeacon 
 Strachan. — Appointed to go to America. 
 
 f) 
 
 9 
 
" t 
 
 ;'. 
 
 I^'N 
 
 XVI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Transactions with Mr. Rolfe. — Liberality of Government. 
 — Alien question. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Trip to Dover — to France, — Adventure there. — Return 
 
 to England. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Anxieties. — Determination of the Canadian Directors. — 
 Judicious resolution. — The Omen. — Local memory. — 
 Curious instances. 
 
 CHAPTER Vil. 
 
 The death of my mother. — Reflections. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Emigration practically considered. — Mr. llorton's plan. — 
 A suggestion concerning a fund for emigration. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Letters from Dr. Strachan. — Letter to Sir P. Maitland. 
 the lieutenant-governor. — Sail for America. 
 
 EPOCH SIXTH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Reflections.— Unprovided for difficulties.— Presentiments. 
 Arrival at New York. — News from the Consul. — At 
 Geneva. — At Batavia. — BufFaloe.— Canada newspapers. 
 Conduct of Mr. Rolfe. Arrival. V^^ait on the Gover- 
 nor. — Consequences. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 * * * * * * % 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 « % )(( tft ^i :^ % 
 
 Pu 
 
 n^ 
 
 12 
 
 Ky 
 
 IH 
 
 22 
 
 24 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 ■;-♦-, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XVII 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 18 
 
 22 
 
 24 
 
 2S 
 
 30 
 
 ■f 
 
 At Quebec— Attentions from tlie Earl and Countess of 
 Dalhousie. — Mention to his Lordship my reception in 
 (Jpper Canada. — Business. — An Amateur theatre. — 
 Keturn to Upper Canada. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Inquiries respecting- the climate of Lower Canada. — Veg- 
 etation under the snow. — Another local phenomenon. — 
 Floating- ice in the river. Cross the river. 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 A project. — Means of effecting- it. — The turning of the 
 river St. Lawrence. — Motives for the work 
 
 CHAPTER VHL 
 
 Cause of my soliciting the superintendency. — My situa- 
 tion. — Accomodations. — Invidious remark. — Coloniza- 
 tion — My system — Plan of buildings. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The founding of Guelph 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Plan of taking payments in produce. — Apply for a valua- 
 ble grant of land to the government, and obtain it 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Voyage on Lake Huron 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 A stipulation in the Company's contract with Govern- 
 ment.— Curious stratagem.— Reflections.— Visit Guelph. 
 Visitors. — Exploring the Grand River. — Return to 
 York 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 Remove to Burlington Bay. — La Guayrian emigrants. 
 Festival at Guelph. — Reflection . - - - 
 
 Page 
 
 3.:-) 
 
 38 
 
 44 
 
 46 
 
 51 
 
 5(5 
 
 60 
 
 71 
 
 75 
 
 « 
 
XVlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 EPOCH SEVENTH. 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 Retlcctions. — Troubles. — Colonelcy of Militia. — Fancy 
 Ball. — Private notice of a coming reprimand. — Inter- 
 view with Sir Peregrine Maitland. — Send in my resig- 
 nation.— the colonelcy suspended - - - • ^i 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 Perplexititj?. — Extend my knowledge of the Americans. 
 — A farce. — Arrival of my family. — Inquiries. — Re- 
 moval to Gucl|)li. — Cardinal Weld. — Rumours of the 
 Company breaking up. — Arrival of the Accountant - 86 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 The Accounlunt. — Incivility of the Directors for favours 
 granted.-'Openingof the road to Lake Huron. — Sick- 
 ness of the labourers. — Quarrel with the Accountant. 
 — Final determination to return to England - - 92 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 New rumours of the Company breaking up. — Strange 
 conduct of the directors. — Payment due to Govern- 
 ment. — No money. — Resolution. — Effects. — Mr. Fel- 
 lows' report, — The directors of the Canada Company 
 allow a hill for cash received to be protested. - - 98 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Acquisition of knowledge. — x\ncient fortifications. — Dig- 
 ging a well in a rock. — A funereal urn. — Natural phe- 
 nomena. — A vast tree 106 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 New articles of export. — Operations. — intentions. — A dis- 
 covery 110 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Resume personal narrative. — Journey to Lake Huron. — 
 Lost ourselves at midnight in the Forest, sixty miles 
 from a known habitation. — Alarming adventure. — 
 Scene at Goderich. — Adieu. 114 
 
 
 •I' 
 
 .' .'ill. 
 
CONIENTrf. 
 
 .\'|X 
 
 Ml 
 
 86 
 
 02 
 
 98 
 
 106 
 
 110 
 
 CHAPTB]R Vlll. 
 
 Page 
 
 Speak of departure. — Conduct of the Settlers. — Leave 
 (luelph. — Letter in my bclialf from the Lieutenant Gov- 
 ernor to the Secretary of State. — Reacli New York. — 
 Ilearinpr of my beinjn;- superceded. — Arrival at Liver- 
 pool. — Reach London. — Consequencet? - - 119 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 A letter from my sister. — Her arrival in London.- 
 Troubles 
 
 124 
 
 128 
 
 - r\2 
 
 EPOCH EIGHTH. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Lawne Todd. — Southonnan. — Think of emigratiniT. — 
 Two kindly circumstances. — Life of Lord Byron. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 Doubts of Byron's originality.— Plagiarisms from Pick- 
 ersgill. — Plagiarisms complained of by Mr. Moore. — 
 Verses by Mr. Moore 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 Incidental fracas with Sir John Cam Hobhouse. Pot - 
 Versus kettle.- His appearance in Eraser's shop. — 
 The Countess Guiccioli 14 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IvJitor of the Courier. — Politics of ilie pr.per. — Whigs 
 and Tories.-Qualitiesof ii newspappr editor.-x'Yuthors - 144 
 
 CHAPi'ER V. 
 
 Visitation of infirmity.— Go to Cheltenham. — Lives of 
 the Flayers - - - 148 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Bogle Corbet.— A] hision to Sir Walter Scott.— Estimate. 152 
 
 CHAPTER VIF. 
 Ueflections on my own works. .... ifi^j 
 
XX 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 164 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Continued.— Annals of the Parish.— Provost. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Obligations to Mr. Blackvvood.-The Life of Mr. West. 
 —Origin.— His lectures.— Origin of the Mermaid.— 
 The Witness.— A player's anecdote. - - - 17^* 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Sense of diseas;.- Abridged means of knowledge.- Rise 
 of Canad.i n stock.— Joint stock companies.—Class of 
 persons to whom udnpted.— Fallacy as to interest.— 
 Their objects.— The objects of commerce.— Kind ot 
 superabundant population.— Begin agam to scheme. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Relax m literary pnrsuits.-Works.-Of the Member 
 and Radical.— Dedication of the latter. - - - 1 '-' 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 183 
 Schemes and projects. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Tontines.— Plan of emancipation for the slaves,— Scheme 
 of colonial curroncy.— Leirislative reform. - - 1^*^ 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A constellation ani a planet. - - ■ ' 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Origin of the interview botwoon Sir Andrew Wylic and 
 Kinff Geor're Third; with anecdotes of other members 
 of the royal family. - - - " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ,, , • ....-- '202 
 
 Conclusion. - - ^.^.p 
 
 Appendix. ---"""" 
 
 m 
 
lti4 
 
 it. 
 
 170 
 
 se 
 of 
 
 THE 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 or 
 
 JOHN GALT 
 
 of 
 
 175 
 
 EPOCH FIRST. 
 
 >er 
 
 - 
 
 I'^O 
 
 - 
 
 183 
 
 me 
 
 
 - 
 
 IBw 
 
 
 192 
 
 mid 
 
 
 )ers 
 
 
 
 19f> 
 
 
 '202 
 
 . 
 
 207 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction. Birth. Removal to Greenock. Early acci- 
 dents. Passion for flowers. The Buchanites. A grand 
 procession at Kilmarnock for the Duchess of Portland 
 and Lady Canning. 
 
 It is certainly not a very gentlemanly occupation to write 
 one's own life ; " ray poverty not my will consents" to the 
 egotistical undertaking ; at the same time, my actual adven- 
 tures are as likely to amuse the reader as the incidents of 
 any fiction which has hitherto escaped from my pen. 
 
 I have always understood that Irvine in Ayrshire was my 
 birth-place, and that the event happened on the 2d of May, 
 1779; in confirmation, my earliest recollections relate to that 
 town. Every year, it is true, I was carried to Greenock for 
 a short time, but my home was in Irvine till 1789-90, when my 
 permanent removal came to pass. 
 
 Of this first epoch I do not recollect much worth relating, 
 but memory occasionally carries me back to transactions that 
 
 A 
 
 % 
 
THE AUTOBIOORAPHY OF 
 
 must hare happened when I v;aa very young, lera than two 
 years of age, and yet I have not a very good general raemory. 
 Of local circumstances, however, I have never met with any 
 person who had a superior graphic recollection, and what I do 
 remember, appears to me more of a pictorial nature than that 
 catalogue of occurrences which make up the memory of most 
 men. As an instance, when not much more than a year old, 
 I perfectly at this day rccal to mind an incident sufficiently 
 childish in itself, but illustrative of this peculiar faculty. 
 
 In the kitchen of my grandmother the hearth rose con- 
 siderably higher than the floor. It happened that a cousin 
 who was about six months older, received with me a present 
 of a little stool. Nothing would serve us but we must sit in 
 our new fanglednoss upon these stools on the raised hearth. 
 Accordingly they were placed there, and in our glee we be- 
 gan to push one another by the feet as we sat on our elevated 
 platform. In this work somehow the fir&, on which stood a 
 tea-kettle, was disordered, and caused it to spout out; I in 
 attempting to rscnpe from liie jet d'eau, fell over the hearth 
 backwards, and the kettle scalded my cousin's legs, producing 
 as Tmay be supjKjsed, screams and uproar. The scene, the cause 
 and the shape of tiie kettle are still before me. Other remin- 
 iscences of about the same time are as vivid, but the date of 
 none is so distinct. The era is fixed so early as some 
 where between my first aiid second year, because my sister 
 was not then born. Indeed her birth is marked in njy re- 
 membrance, by a terrible accident of the like sort. She was 
 born in Greenock, and her birth is hallowed to me by the 
 accident. I was then there, and at the time in the custody of 
 some one, standinj]^ on the kitchen dresser, caressed and cares- 
 sing, when the event was proclaimed to "all the house." — 
 Whoever had charge of me forgot I was on the dresser, and 
 leaving me there, ran into the passage to hear the news more 
 particularly. Well do I recollect my horror at being so aban- 
 doned ; I looked over the edge f the dresser as Shakespear 
 makes Edgar look over the clifTat Dover, and seeing my peril- 
 ous height, roared and ramped and stamped "as il were a 
 nightingale" till removed. 
 
JOHN UALT. 
 
 8 
 
 Those two circumstances stand so limn^l and bright in my 
 romernbranco, tliat I could bear testimuny to tIjpJr occurrence 
 on oath btifore any judicature, although they have hem follow- 
 ed by no ellects, further than as proofr of that fsingular lt»osl 
 memory for wliich I have among !ny u nds boon distin- 
 guisliod, and which has ever continued to 
 
 "(irow with my growth and etrongthen wi(h my strength." 
 
 In the spring of the year 1783 a trivial incident had on me 
 for many years great influence. One morning, as I was play- 
 ing in the garden, very early, among other things I observed 
 with surprise the heads of the narcissus peering above ground. 
 I have no recollection of the cause that led me to remark the 
 circimistance, but it dwelt on my memory. In the course of 
 a few days alter I was taken to Greenock, where I remained 
 some weeks, and on my return to Irvine it was late when we 
 arrived. Next morning, liowever, 1 got out of bed by break 
 of day and hurried into the garden, when, instead of the 
 sprouting plants, lo ! they were in blossom ; and I could not 
 persuade myself that they were not lilies brought from a dis- 
 tance and planted in the beds. 
 
 The phenomenon excited my curiosity ; from that day and 
 long alter I became passionately fond of flowers, and derived 
 inexpressible pleasure from their development in the culture ; 
 latterly the taste gave way to a predilection for trees and 
 shrubs : but an accident afterwards put an end to both. 
 
 Soon after my wonderment at the lilies was over, a very odd 
 business occurred at Irvine, memorable in the history of sects. 
 I allude to the rise of the Buchanites, of whom at thie early 
 age I became a follower, understanding as much of their creed 
 as the generality of the serious professors. The story is this- 
 
 Mr. White, the Relief minister of Irvine, being called to 
 assist at the sacrament in Glasgow, where a Mrs. Buchan had 
 an opportunity of hearing him, so delighted her by his oratory 
 that she wrote to him that he was the first minister who had 
 spoken effectually to her sinful heart; expressing, at the same 
 time, a wish to visit him at Irvine, that she might be further 
 confirmed in the faith. 
 
 ^- 
 
4 . THE AITOBIOORAPIIY OF 
 
 Ho 8liowed her letter with clerical vanity to some of his 
 people, who gave her a very welcome reception and consider- 
 ed her as a woman of great gifts, llcligion was the constant 
 theme of her loquacity, and her time was spent in visiting 
 from house to house, in making family worship, and in ex- 
 pounding the Scriptures; but some of the congregation began 
 to doubt the trutli of tlie gospel according to Mrs. Buchan. 
 Mr. White, the Relief minister, however, implicitly credited 
 her crthfxloxy; but the Relief congregation expressed their 
 dissatisfaction with his ministry, and required her dismissal as 
 a dangerous person. He refused, they threatened, but he re- 
 mained as firm in his delusion as Mr. Edward Trvmg himself. 
 By the proceedings which the infidels adopted, Mr. White 
 was ultimately deposed from his office as minister ; neverthe- 
 less he peacefully delivered up " the keys of the kirk" and 
 preached in a tent. 
 
 The curiosity of the public was excited ; strange accounts 
 were given of the doctrine and manner of worship among the 
 Buchanites. They usually met in the night-time and were 
 iti|tructed by the prophetess. She gave herself out to be the 
 woman spoken of in the twelfth chapter of the Revelations, 
 and that Mr. White was the man-child she had brought forth. 
 These and other ravings drew upon her and her party the 
 indignation of the populace. The house of Mr. White was 
 gutted by a mob, and repeated applications from the members 
 of the Relief congregation to proceed against her as a blas- 
 phemer and " an odious schismatic," caused the magistrates to 
 dismiss her from the town. — To protect her from insult they, 
 however, accompanied her about a mile, and forty or fifty fol- 
 lowers proceeded with her singing psalms as they went 
 shouting and saying they were going to new Jerusalem. 
 
 I with many other children also accompanied her, but my 
 mother in a state of distraction pursued and drew me back 
 by the lug and the horn. I have not the slightest recollec- 
 tion of Mrs. Buchan's heresies, — how could I? — but the 
 scene and more than once tiie enthusiasm of the psalm singing 
 
 \l 
 
 ?ri 
 
 - 'y^^it 
 
 
JOHN (JALT. 
 
 5^ 
 
 lias risen on my remembrance, especially in describing the Gov 
 enanters in Ringaa Gilhaize. ; , . 
 
 From liiat time, altiiough I have vivid recollections of ma- 
 ny things, yet the reader would not care about hearing of 
 them, especially as they are introduced in my novels, but I 
 should not omit an event which has had a singular influence 
 on my conduct through life. 
 
 When the present Duchess of Portland and Lady Canning 
 were girls, the executors of their father bought all the lands 
 in the neighbourhood ot Kilmarnock, the estate now of the 
 duke of Portland. The young ladies were brought to see 
 the purchase, and those 
 
 "WIm lefUlxT lax niul draw, 
 Ol' all d.'iiominaiions," 
 
 liuuN.-^ 
 
 got Up the procession of King Crispin for their gratification. 
 It was certainly very grand ; the only procession I ever saw 
 in any degree comparable to that was the coronation of King 
 George the Fourth, which, however, in my opinion, was, at 
 this distance of time, no more equal to it than a kitten to a 
 Kilkenny cat. It is time, however, that I should conclude 
 this chapter, for the event to be recorded is too much of,|n 
 epochal nature to be crammed in at the fag end. 
 
 • . r S 
 
 A 1 
 
6 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 View of the Falls of Niagara. A Storm. Predilection 
 or books. Lieut. Gucliland. A schoolmaster. Lord 
 
 liotjle. Mr. Echford, of New Yorh. Marion Crawford. 
 
 Mr. Eckford^s death. 
 
 Kilmarnock is about six miles from Irvine, and I was car- 
 1 ied there to see the show. In the relation's house lo which 
 I was taken, lay a folio which contained many pictures, 
 and among them a view of the Falls of Niagara. It was the 
 Wildest sight I had ever seen, and my juvenile imagination 
 was fully excited. 
 
 n^etween the procession and this picture I was prodigious- 
 ly interested, continually going out and in; never had any 
 thiiior produced on mo such an effect; 1 lost all recollection, 
 and totally forgot that I looked " but on a stool," nor could 
 I conceive any thing more wild and wonderful than that 
 view. Often and often since it has risen upon my recollec- 
 tion, and when in after life at the Falls, I fancied myself on 
 the very spot below the town of Manchester on the Amer- 
 ican side from which the drawing had been taken. 
 
 From the lime of this visit to Kilmarnock till finally re- 
 moved from Irvine I have no very particular recollection, 
 except of a storm at sea, of which a description is given in 
 " The PRovost " ; but I was a soft, ailing and growing boy. 
 I have no remembrance of th.o enjoyment of perfect health 
 for several years, and yet I was not ill ; a sort of " all-over- 
 ishness" hung about me, and when not engaged with my 
 flowers I lounged on my bed, which gave me a kind of lit- 
 
 >» • 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 erary predilection : all sorts of ballads and story-books were 
 accumulated by me, and some of them have left inipressiona 
 that still remain fresh and unfaded. 
 
 This infirm state led me not only- to avoid the hearty ex- 
 ercises of other boys, but to seek indoor amusement that 
 was, had it been observed, remarkable in one so young. I 
 remember that there were a number of old women who 
 lived in the close behind my grandmother's house, and in 
 their society to hear their tales and legends I was a frequent 
 visitor. One ofthemwasthe mother of Lieutenant Gueli- 
 land who was a flag-officer to Lord Nelson, and killed at the 
 battle of Trafalgar. He was older than me, and I do not re- 
 collect him very well, but he was a brave and intelligent 
 officer ; his townsmen have erected a monument to his mem- 
 ory in the church, and I have the gratification to record that 
 I obtained for his only sister a munificent donation from the 
 patriotic Fund formed during the war at Lloyd's. 
 
 Another of them was an old widow, bent into a hoop ; she 
 had an only son, but he was gone from her long before my 
 time, and she lived a lonely life. With this friendless aged 
 woman I was a great favourite, and exceedingly attached to 
 her, for she had many kindly qualities that won upon an in- 
 firm boy's best affiictions. She has often since served me 
 as a model ; not that her actual state has been depicted by me, 
 but 1 have imagined her in situations that were calculated 
 to bring out her character. She was very poor, and spun 
 out her low and wintry existence by her rock and tow. I have 
 often assisted her to reel her pirns, and enjoyed strange 
 pleasure in the narratives of her life and privations. — It gives 
 me a sort of melancholy pleasure to record that her latter 
 days were tempered in their sterility by the kindness of my 
 aunt and cousins. I have never inquired, even to this hour, 
 if she merited so much regard. 
 
 There was another old woman, a relation, that I was also 
 very partial* to ; her husband was blind, and she herself had 
 some brimstone notions of religion, but much in her circum- 
 stances excited at once both compassion and laughter. When 
 
8 
 
 THE AUTODIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 many years after I heard of lier death, I well recollect say- 
 ing, in a letter written to my aunt on the occasion, in the words 
 of Henry the Fifth on the death of Sir John Fulstaff, that 
 
 " I could have better spared a belter man." 
 
 She was one of those plausible sybils that juggled in my morn- 
 ning path. - , 
 
 One thing should not be forgotten ; owing to my growth 
 and consequent ailment I made comparatively little progress 
 in my education, but 1 had a very clear idea of what I did 
 learn, and never afterwards forgot it. —Among other expedi- 
 ents to counteract my infirmity was being sent in the eve- 
 ning privately to taiie lessons in reading from tlie schoolmas- 
 ter. In this task, which was desultorily executed I read with 
 him the Spectator and Gil Bias, and as I have never read 
 either since, 1 am led to conclude that in those conclave in- 
 structions, I evinced something of intelligence : when I left 
 him he made me a present of Goldsmith's Roman History. — 
 Nevertheless my progress during 1788 and 89 was not equal 
 to my companion's, and yet the schools of Irvine were par- 
 ticularly good. The present Lord Justice Clerk, Lord Boyle, 
 left the grammar school in the same year that I entered it. 
 He was at that time a very sensitive lad, and our schoolmas- 
 ter spoke of him with approbation, not for talent, but his sen- 
 sibility to any matter wherein he conceived himself wrong or 
 fault was imputed to him. Generally, indeed, my schoolfel- 
 lows have turned out well, and some of them have meritori- 
 ously attained distinction. Among others was the late Mr. 
 Eckford, of New York*. He learned to be a ship-carpenter, 
 and early went abroad with the reputation, even, then, of 
 talent ; but I recal him to recollection by a very affecting 
 story. 
 
 At that time in Irvine were several children from the East 
 Indies, among them a girl called Marion Crawford, with 
 singularly beautiful long black hair, and that composed char- 
 acter of physiognomy which is supposed by the Italians to 
 
 m 
 
 * I do not mention names particularly, because I know not if they would 
 like it, but lb(»e men belong to tlic imblic. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 d 
 
 be particularly characteristic of the Mailonna. Between her 
 and Eckford a mutual attachment grew up until it became 
 known to all the town, and was even respected by the school- 
 boys. Eckford was older than me, but I remember the cir- 
 cumstance very perfectly. Ah ! 
 
 '■ Tlie course of true love novor did run sinooUi." 
 
 Henry Eckford and Marion Crawford were not destined to 
 be an exception to the rule of fortune. He went abroad, and 
 she, poor creature, was lately living forlorn in single bles- 
 sedness. 
 
 This Mr. Eckford became afterwards the grand architect 
 and builder of the American navy,* and accumulated a vast 
 fortune. 1 siiall hereafter have occasion to mention hovv we 
 met, but his fortune made him the prey of designing men; and 
 he was inveigled on account of his wealth by a party to join 
 in some public scheme. When T first met him he was then 
 flourishing in prosperity, and had sent his son with a tutor 
 to make the tour of Europe. 
 
 Some sinister trick in the management of the company 
 made him responsible for all his fortune; a legislative inves- 
 tigation by the State of New York was instituted to exam- 
 ine the circumstances, and though Eckford lost his fortune 
 he was honourably acquitted. He sent me to Canada cop- 
 ies of the proceedings, and I was glad and sorrowful at the 
 result ; glad of his acquittal and sorrowful for his fate. 
 
 His son, however, returned to him ; but as if misfortune 
 had, after a career of great splendour, marked him for her 
 particular prey, the young man in attempting to save his 
 sister was with her burnt to death. 
 
 I saw Eckford after this calamitous event, and we had a 
 good deal of schoolboy conversation respecting hiraseU. He 
 
 * It is not detractinu from the real merit of Mr. Eckford to denjr^ie ac- 
 cnrary of tills assertion. Niimernus vessels, both in ilie public and mCTcan- 
 tile marine, built under his dirfciion in the shipyards in New York, are 
 evidence of his sitill in naval architecture. But no person would pretend to 
 arrogate forhini the merit of similar works in the shipyards of the other 
 cities of tlie Union.— Editor, 
 
10 
 
 THE AlTOnlOORAPHY OF 
 
 had then made up his mind to leave the United States, but 
 had not decided in what direction to move. I mentioned to 
 him Russia, offerinjf hiin a letter ; but he had decided on 
 no particular place. Allerwards ho went to Constantino- 
 ple, where the dockyards were put under his superintendence, 
 and he was treated bv the Sultan with uncommon conde- 
 scension and confidence. He died, however, soon; his body 
 was carried to New York, where it was mterred vvitii par- 
 ticular distinction. . 
 
 The circumstance which induces me to mention him here 
 was, that among- other early recollections he inquired, -in the 
 conversation alludod to, it J. had any remembrance of Mari- 
 on Crawford. There was something in the topics of our 
 conversation and his manner that rendered the question af- 
 ecting; but I could give him no other answer than by mention- 
 ing that 1 believed she was still alive and unmarried. Forty 
 years had elapsed since he had seen her. It has ever seemed 
 to me that there was something pathetic in his inquiry. I 
 have often since thought of it ; for he remarked that strange 
 changes happen in life. It was so with himself, for he who 
 had reached the very summit of prosperity was then again 
 as poor as Miss Crawford ; but there was a consciousness 
 about him that he was destined to die no ordinary man. 
 
 
 m 
 
JOIIN OALT. 
 
 u 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 My gardening. Temper. Opposition to my studies, 
 chanical taste. Music. Schemes and projects. 
 
 Me- 
 
 ag'am 
 
 My removal to Greenock was neither heralded nor attended 
 by comets or eclipses ; I forget every thing about it, ex- 
 cept that the family took up their abode in a new house which 
 my father had built and roy sister still inhabits ; attached was 
 a garden, in the decorations of which my taste for flowers 
 suffered no interruption. For several years it afforded me 
 agreeable employment, and I still recollect with pleasure the 
 aspect of the borders when the sun was shining and the air 
 clear. 
 
 At the schools if I was not considered a dull boy I cer- 
 tainly made no particular progress. That softness of dis- 
 position which arose from languor was perhaps not so re- 
 markable there as at Irvine, for 1 recollect my experience of 
 increased vigour. It never however acquired at Greenock 
 the epithet of equanimity, such as I afterwards enjoyed in 
 the world, but it does not reflect much honour on the discern- 
 ment of many about me, that its equal nature was not 
 perceived. — Softness of disposition does not always index an 
 oven temper, nor was mine of this description. It was even- 
 ness of mind rather than of temper, with decision of char- 
 acter, slow manifesting itself, but surprising when it did so. 
 For a number of years I pride myself on recollecting many 
 <riuraphsof temper, but alas ! I can do so no longer, the vi- 
 cissitudes of life have mastered forbearance, and made me at 
 lea^t as irascible as my neighbours. 
 
 « 
 
12 
 
 THE AUTOBIOORAPIIY OF 
 
 My removal to Greenock was to the individual an impor- 
 tant era ; I felt, notwithstanding my slow progress in school 
 studies, a budding of faculties that afterwards came to leaf, 
 and I may say to some blossom, although the fruit has never 
 set. 
 
 The greatest drawback however to be encountered, arose 
 from my mother ; she could not endure to see my sleepy na- 
 ture, and ascribed t to my predilection for books, of which it 
 was but an effect, not the cause. In afler life, when she was 
 old and circumstances had changed, she confessed her error : 
 but it cannot be accounted for in a woman so remarkably en- 
 dowed. My father was one of the best, as he was one of the 
 handsomest men, but he was of an easy nature, with only 
 passable ability, in which however probity was predominant. 
 My mother was however a very singular person ; posses- 
 sing a masculine strength of character, with great natural 
 humour, and a keen perception of the ridiculous in others. — 
 In her prime, as I would call it, she indulged in queer meta- 
 phorical expressions, exceedingly forcible and original. In 
 latter life this grew so much into a habit, that her talk to 
 strangers must have seemed often fantastical. The rich ore 
 of common sense, however, which pervaded her observations 
 was always remarkable, and frequently extorted an instanta- 
 neous assent to her opmions, while they provoked irrepressi- 
 ble laughter. 
 
 Under her superintendence I undoubtedly made great mo- 
 ral proficiency ; I can trace innumerable instances of the ben- 
 efits derived from her advice, but she was angrily averse 
 to my bookish propensities, and until I left the shelter of the 
 maternal wing never ceased to condemn my drowsy studies. 
 The passion for reading derived food from the public libra- 
 ry, a selection of books formed with uncommon judgment 
 and taste. The useful predomiiiates in the collection, and 
 to this circumstance, probably, should be attributed my habit- 
 ual partiality for works of a solid character. I dare not ven- 
 ture to call it better than a habit. 
 
 While yet at school I had a bias for mechanics, which 
 
JOHN OaLT. 
 
 18 
 
 which 
 
 an observant master might have turned to some account. — 
 Among other things, 1 attempted to make a piano-forte, 
 alias a hurdy*gurdy, in a box, and waa magnificent in shows. 
 The managers of the puppet pageants at Drury Lane and Co- 
 vent Garden might have taken a lesson from me in a won- 
 derful edephusicon that I got up after seeing Lulherburg's ex- 
 hibition. But the most successful of all my devices was an 
 Eolian harp, which was occasionally shown off im the staircase 
 window, particularly when my mother happened to be ab- 
 sent, for its mournful melody put her in the vapours, as she 
 said, and I was obliged to give away the " wind organ" to 
 a school/ellow. 
 
 To these tuneful experiments succeeded the solitary study 
 of music, by an attempt to teach myself the flute. I was led 
 to this by the example of a companion, the late William 
 Spence, author of the " Essay on Logarithmic Transcendents," 
 which Sir J. Herschell aflervvards edited, a work of great 
 research, ingenuity, and originality. 
 
 Speijce, besides being a most delicious performer was a con- 
 siderable composer, and made beautiful sonnatas, which had as 
 much character as the compositions of Frederick the Great, 
 King of Prussia. I too was a composer, but never got in 
 practice beyond playing duets with Spence ; somehow I al- 
 ways became too agitated: in the overture, however, to Ar- 
 taxerxes I used to be rather above par, and there was a beau- 
 tiful movement of Jomelii in which I thought myself divine. 
 Afterwards I heard it performed in London, in the ghost 
 scene of the Castle Spectre, and it affected me so much thfiC 
 many around must have thought me very silly. 
 
 My compositions at Greenock Idare say were bad onough, 
 but aflerwards, when T came to London and heard better thinjis, 
 those made there were not utterly despicable. The reader 
 however may judge for himself, as I havo subjoined to this 
 work some of my song# that have been published, one of 
 them, "Lochnagcr," to the words of Lord Byron, was deem- 
 ed of such excellence that I heard it grinding on a street organ. 
 The air was given away, and published to some advantage. 
 
 B 
 
 ^1 
 
 
 
14 
 
 THE AVTOBIOQRAPHY OF 
 
 Besides these indoor occupations I was a sort of a fisher, 
 but never distinguished. The scene of my reveries was a 
 considerable stream in the moors behind the mountains above 
 the town. It has since been brought round the shoulder of 
 the hill, and having been damned up, it now b}^ a canal gives 
 to the town a valuable water power. Among my fishing 
 dreams this very improvement, in a different manner, wa« 
 one of the earliest. 
 
 The town of Greenock is supplied with water from res- 
 ervoirs on the heights behind. In dry weather these dams 
 or tanks sometimes became exhausted, and it happened once 
 in my time that one of them nearly dried up. It was observed, 
 however, that a small rill of pellucid water continued undi- 
 minished to run into it. The magistrates on seeing this, on 
 the same principle that the boy in the fable killed the goose 
 that laid him the golden eggs, I suppose, ordered the spring 
 to be explored by digging, when it was discovered to issue 
 from an artificial cave. I explored the excavation myself 
 to a great depth in the mountain, and ascertained that it 
 was a drain to a mine. This led me to examine the place, 
 and on the top of the hill I discovered that a shad or pit had 
 penetrated the mountain formerly to the drain ; afterwards I 
 traced an ancient road on the hill, and something at a lower 
 reservoir like a bridge across a ravine. I never heard or 
 read any account of these works, but the discovery of them 
 eel me a hatciiing, and I brought forth to myself a notable 
 plan, no otiier than to tunnel the mountain by the drain and 
 lead inio it " the Sliaws water," for exactly the same pur- 
 pose as the canal hab been since executed. Whether the cost 
 of tunoelling would not iiave been greater than the canal I 
 cannot say, but the circumstauce is mentioned here to show 
 to what obje^.ts my mind was early turned. I have never 
 seen the canal. 
 
 In the Frith, opposite to Greenock, there is a large sand 
 bank often dry at low water. When it was proposed to en- 
 large the harbour it occurred to me that this bank might 
 be converted into land, and I have still a very cheap and 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 10 
 
 feasible plan for gradually doing it, but unfortunately the 
 bank belonged to the crown and was too sacred to be im- 
 proved. Afterwards, when my friend Mr. Ewing was magis- 
 trate, and long after I had loft the town, the Barons of the 
 Exchequer were induced to give the bniik to the town for 
 a mess of pottage in the shape of a cask of rum; the town 
 has not however yet made any use of the acquisition nor 
 evinced any sense of its value ; some day the magistrates 
 under a reformed parliament will no doubt be enlightened' 
 on the subject. 
 
 In contriving schemes such as these my youth was spent, 
 hut tiiey were all of too grand a calibre to obtain any attention , 
 and 1 doubt if there yet be any ono among my contempora- 
 ries capable of appreciating their importance. 
 
 By the by, while I am on the subject, I may mention anoth- 
 er, local project, namely, cutting a canal from Loch Lomond 
 through the valley of Arrocher to Loch Long. It might be 
 done at little expense, and open up by Loch Lomond all the 
 heart of Scotland round its banks. I have never heard this 
 project discussed, and it is now much more than thirty years 
 since I formed it, which either proves that the scheme is a 
 very foolish suggestion or that the resident gentlemen are, as 
 they are commonly supposed to be, not far sighted. But the 
 thing will be done, though I may compare myself to the old 
 lady who advised her husband to take a second wife when 
 she died, adding, with appropriate pathos, " but, Robin, it is 
 what I'll never live to see." 
 
 .^;- 
 
 ^_. ~^ir- ^■'.- -.1, :-.P»;»:j. 
 
16 
 
 THE AUTOBrOOllAl'IlY OF 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Attnchmfut to Gretnock. Mr. Park, 
 menis. Displeased ivitli him. 
 
 Of his accomplish- 
 
 I REMAINED at Grcenock fourteen or fifteen years. I do not 
 Siiy it was the happiest period of my life, altiiougJi it is recol- 
 lected as the longest. 1 was never there in my element, 
 i-'omething- of constraint environed mo, and although I feel 
 towards the place the strongest local attachment, and those 
 w iiom I have loved dearest were inhahitants of that town, I 
 tliink of it m repeating 
 
 Thai inonitisof youth are ycois fifliiiH'. ' . 
 
 Old lipartH in fading bosoms loll ; — 
 On frifiiddliips formed ill that swnel primp, 
 ^^ - , Why docs remtmbrurice iovcio dwell 1 , 
 
 Wliy are Ihe lies of riper life, 
 That pride and reason ratify, s 
 
 Hut tilmenla deemed tliat snap in strife ? 
 v And transient birda that rest and dy? 
 
 -■ •• Few sunny hours In vernal days, 
 
 Surtice to build the geiiile nest, • ■"'■■'■ ' ' 
 
 Where Hope her fairest promi«e lays, . . ' 
 
 And thrive tlie callow fancies best. 
 
 Yet I do not recollect any circumstance which should endear 
 the remembrance of Greenock to me. Those of the inhabit- 
 ants 1 knew were no doubt very estimable in their qualities, 
 but not so remarkably so as to make them in any degree dis- 
 tinguished. Upon the whole they were, perhaps, of an infe- 
 rior intellectual class from what I have often since met with ; 
 but they are regarded with a partiality by me that can only be 
 ascribed to the remembrance of young impressions. Tow- 
 
 r 
 
JOHN <»ALr. 
 
 17 . 
 
 ards the memory of Mr. Jamns Park, who was my particular 
 asBociate, I iiave ever felt a strony attacinuent. 
 
 lln was a greatly snp'^rior youn;T man, — far more accom- 
 plished than any other person I have ever since known, and I 
 <lo not except J^ord Byron when I say so. He read several 
 languages perfectly, — his poems i flen approximated to ge- 
 nius, and his prose composition*, if they were not eloquent 
 and original, were highly elegant and sometitnes heautiful. 
 Perhaps, hud he not been long the victim of infirm health he 
 might have merited admiration ; as it is, I cannot think of him 
 but as one of the most amiable persons I ever met with in life. 
 
 Of his character it is impossible to speak, but warmly ; for 
 ulthough in some things he did not act towards me as I would 
 hav(; done towards him, I still feel that he acted in a manner 
 entitled to regard. When the cause occurred which induced 
 me to leave Greenock, ho did not perform the part I expected; 
 and there was afterwards an incident occurred that did not 
 strengthen our affection. 
 
 It was J well knew the constant intention of my father 
 tiiat his children should inherit equally, and that our mother 
 should be independent of us ; circumstances with which the 
 world has nothing to do induced him to alter his will, and it so 
 happened that by a misdescription of his property the new will 
 could not be carried into effect, and I as heir-at-law, who was 
 the cause of this change, became the sole inheritor. When 
 the error was discovered, my mother and sister did no more 
 than justice to me in expecting that T would confirm a set- 
 tlement according to what was understood to be the intention 
 of my father ; but my mother requested Mr. Park to write 
 me on the subject. I was then very poor as I always have 
 been, and to have inherited a patrimony that would have 
 cleared me of debt was no doubt a great temptation. Of this 
 my friend Park was fully aware, and his letter to me was 
 couched in delicate terms as to the dependence in which my 
 mother would be left, hoping I would master my temptation 
 
 and set my mother's mind at ease. Well do I recollect the 
 
 B 2 
 
18 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 feelings which h's letter awakened ; that he, the companion 
 of my youtii, should have thought any exhortation necessary ! 
 I am not sure tliat I acknowledged the receipt of his letter ? 
 but^I instantly wrote either to my sister or my mothertoget a 
 deed prepared as my father intended, and it was executed. 
 
 ^ >v. .. 
 
 
 
 ■i ---rs^T' ^ ^',^-fi . ", ,_ »-.^;Ji 
 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 19 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Mr. Ewing. Strange dream. Subsequent calamities.- 
 
 One of my first attempts at verse-making, 
 land. His pompous language. 
 
 Miller's Gar- 
 
 Undoubtedly the spring time of life spent at Greenock was 
 not without sunshine. I ever recollect with great pleasure 
 my connexion with Mr. Ewing. In all the vicissitudes of a 
 very various life, I have never met with a person of such truly 
 sterling worth. His talents were not, in a literary point of 
 view, comparable to those of many that 1 have seen, but I nev- 
 er saw in any one such equanimity of temper and greater 
 purity of heart. 
 
 In latter years respecting this gentleman I encountered a 
 very tingular adventure. When in Canada, as a commission- 
 er, I did not enjoy very good health; my sleep was disturbed 
 and unsound, the consequences of a lurking new disease that 
 was not then understood. 
 
 There was a general table provided for the commissioners 
 at which we regularly met, but sometimes when the weather 
 was very cold I breakfasted in my own lodgings. 
 
 One morning, the 8th of April, while my servant was get- 
 ting ready breakfast I fell asleep, from which I was awoke 
 before the breakfast was ready with something terrible sound- 
 ing in the enrs of my mind. All I could make out was, that 
 some dreadful misfortune had befallen Mr. Ewing, and the 
 impression upon me was so strong that 1 was unable to eat, and 
 became seriously unwell. 
 
 On going to the Board, which met every day, there was 
 
 ■'fi 
 
20 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 only present Mr. John Davidson, of Quebec, another commis- 
 sioner ; the otiiers were vvalkinn|- about till the office-hour ar- 
 rived. Davidson, on seeing me, inquired how I had slept, 
 and what was the matter with mo, expressing concern at my 
 altered appearance. I related to him the terror in which I had 
 awoke, but he made light of it, for he was a man of some 
 humour, and in time it was seemingly forgotten, though I 
 marked the date at the time. 
 
 On my arrival at Liverpool some weeks after, I was how- 
 ever told by an old mutual friend, Mr. Hugh Mattie, that Mr. 
 Ewing's family wore at the time subjected to a great calamity, 
 several of the children and servants having died of typhus 
 fever. The news produced on me a very saddening effect, 
 and I remembered my dream. 
 
 1 had not been long in London when I received a letter 
 from Mr. Ewing himself, communicating the intelligence of 
 his poor wife's death of a broken heart, in consequence of 
 losing so many of her chikh'cn, and containuig a long account 
 of domestic suffering?, which commenced at a certain hour 
 on the 8th of April. A gentleman was with me when 1 re- 
 ceived the letter, which I handed to him, and looking out for 
 my pocket-book, found the date of my visionary terror to cor- 
 respond exactly with the commencement of Mr. Ewing's suf- 
 ferings, allowing for the longitude. 
 
 This is not all: the presentiment seemed to me very extra- 
 ordinary, and in consequence, some years after, I composed 
 a tale from it, which was published in one of the Annuals, 
 disguised, of course, in its circumstances. In due time I re- 
 ceived the proof slieet of my contribution, and at tiie same 
 time wlieu it came in 1 was looking at an old magazine, in 
 which, to my astonishment, was a description of a similar pre- 
 sentiment tliat had happened to some Austrian officers. 
 
 That— , . ■ ■ ' 
 
 " Tli^rf are more things, ill the Iieavons and the eatUi ., 
 
 Tliiiii are dreamt of in pliilosophy," 
 
 I cannot doubt, and I record this affair as one of those which 
 may excite wonder because it is inexplicable. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 21 
 
 Mr. Evving's uncle and partner, with whom I was in time 
 associated, was one of the fattest men I ever saw. He was 
 a gentleman possessed of great integrity, though not remarka- 
 ble for talent; but he must have been a person of many 
 good qualities, for I recollect him with affection; even his 
 foibles have a warm place in my regard. I always thought 
 he treated me with more than common kindness, and his pom- 
 pous manner I have ever regarded as an innocent infirmity. — 
 When a mere boy in the countinghouse, he made me a present 
 of Young's Night Thoughts, recommending it to me by quot- 
 ing with great emphasis the exordium, — , ,. , .^.^ 
 
 " Tired Nature's." &:c. •^.. 
 
 It was certainly not a book for a merchant to give to a ju- 
 nior clerk, but it was a proof of his good-nature, and I think 
 now he must have considered me as something out of the 
 way. He was one of the earliest subjects of my muse, and 
 the occasion still makes me smile. 
 
 At that time came occasionally to Greenock a blind beggar- 
 man, who went up and down the streets singing a biographi- 
 cal ditty about how he lost his sight. The first verge was, — 
 
 " In Girven I was bred and born, >■ - ,, 
 
 All in the ssliire of Ayr, 
 Of good and iionest parents dear, 
 
 Will) took of nie great care." 
 
 It happened that Mr. Miller, when he thought the clerks 
 remiss, used to lecture them lefl-handedly, by recounting the 
 great things he did when a young man. I was a particular 
 object of these inflictions, but they made only a ludicrous im- 
 pression upon mo. One day he described, for an admonitory 
 purpose, one of his exploits when young, about shipping to- 
 bacco at all the quays, and how tired he was. At the time 
 I was brimful of Plutarch, and had the most ineffable contempt 
 for such labours compared with those of Hercules, but there 
 was something in the toils of ISIr. Miller amusing to my fan- 
 cy, and I made a boyish parody on the beggar's ditty, which X 
 entitled " Miller's Garland." I don't remember much of it, 
 but it was not without humour. The first stanza was the 
 
22 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 same, with the substitution of *Keppoch' for *Girven,' and 
 ' Dumbartonshire' for 'tlie shire of Ayr.' The stanzas describ- 
 ing his fatigue were good; they were — 
 
 " And wlien the hour of dinner came, 
 
 So greatly was 1 tired, 
 Thai it' a boat had not passed by, 
 
 And I tlie same liad liired, 
 1 fainted liad, and o'er the quay 
 
 My body would have fell, 
 But luckily the boat passed by, - 
 
 And saved my soul from hell." 
 
 Mr. Miller had, among other peculiarities, a strange passion 
 for the ore rotundo, which used mightily to amuse me. One 
 morning, atler Lord Macartney's fruitless negociation for 
 peace, he was talking to me on the subject, and among other 
 things said that in his opinion " Lord Macartney acted with 
 great judgment and sensibility." I have never forgot the 
 phrase. Another day, when we were extremely busy in the 
 office, a whipper-snapixjr of a boy came in to get something 
 settled: " Come," said the man-mountain, when the hurry of 
 the business of the day is over, and it shall be expiscatetl." 
 But Mr. Miller was not always so elaborate in his phraseol- 
 ogy. It happened that a writer, (as attorneys are called in 
 Scotland,) who did our business, was absent one day when a 
 bill was to be protested. Mr. Miller was standing frying 
 with passion at the gate, but I know nothing of the cause. He 
 however said, " Mr. John, have you seen him i " Who f" 
 "The stupidest man ever the Lord took the trouble to put 
 the breath of life in." I knew it was of his coz. Nathan he 
 spoke. 
 
 But although my hereditary predilection for oddities, was 
 never rightly understood at Greenock, my early years and 
 curious character in James Miller and Co.'s office are bright 
 to look back upon. Mr. Ewing still stands with me as the 
 very pattern of a gentleman in private life ; Mr. Miller, for 
 whom I never had a particle of reverence, seems to me in 
 some sort as an ancestor that J ought to venerate, and I do so; 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 23 
 
 for with all his foibles be had many excellent qualities. It 
 is curious to remark how much recollections as well as colours 
 change by time and exposure. How many things that on their 
 advent in those days were disagreeable, provoke laughter in 
 the remembrance ! 
 
 I , ii. i' 
 
 1 
 
 li'K 
 
 rt: 
 
 ^f ■' V 
 
 '^•f':^ 
 
 II 
 
 J. I', 
 
 w 
 
24 
 
 THE A 
 
 XJTOTllOGRArin' OF 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Durham. Mrs. Siddons. . . . . ^ 
 
 ft TreeDOck were not so 
 T.U>e fourteen or 6''^=" f" mZwedly constituted a krgc 
 bright as some others, tl-y "dou^'^d J^ ^^ ^^ 
 oaSs in the desert of m> 1*' ^™ associates there. 
 
 to^va^ds mankind is ^^^^^^^ "If „^ore accomplished but 
 I have met, no doubt, ""^ many m ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^,ightest 
 never with better men ; nor Co i ^^^^ ^„^ev- 
 
 Ide was ever cast upon any one o h » ^^ .^^^.^^ . 
 er, what to me has ever m^^'^^,' ^^ others of the human 
 ,;, a conceit of tl-mse «s abo>« ;,„^„a instances of lh« 
 -e whom I liave ever seen. ^^^^ ^gaiu m 
 
 weakness crowd "P™. ^.^fs t "'^ '"'' ™' '' *""'"^ 
 this narrative my youthful J»y|'2>;*^ ,, , poetical people 
 calumniate ^^eir hearts UnuWeJ,^ but owing to the 
 beneaoence was *« dr * o'^'^e ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^j 
 
 defect in then heads, teywer ^^^ ^, -ere as void 
 
 a kind of good-humored detracuon^ ^^^ ^^^^^,^3, 
 
 "• as the leeci^J^^ -^/^of gratifying its own appe- 
 effects a cure when n vwy 
 
 ^''®- .. .1 » ,»mler rav recollections of Green- 
 
 Among other thmgs t'«';;™f ;2,„i„„s with my compa- 
 ock light and gay, were semal exc„ ^^ ^^ ^^^ 
 
 nions. The first was w.th P"* ""^ :„„„ey, of which 
 
 of Agnew Crawford ; a sort oj walkmg 3 ^^_^^^_^^^^ 
 
 Edinburgh was the apex. ',j,,owever, be tedious to 
 to Glasgow before breakfast. It wouio. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 25 
 
 narrate the incidents of a journey which are still recollected 
 as expedients to make a light purse supply a voracious curiosi- 
 ty. We were absent nearly two weeks ; during which we 
 saw a world of wonders, and made a circuitous tour, which 
 brought us home by Stirling and Dumbartonshire. ' 
 
 I shall never forget a sort of gipsyan expedition we made 
 to Loch Lomond ; and another year, wlicn shooting up into 
 manhood, Crawford, Park, and myself, went a walking excur- 
 sion to Duriiam, in England, in which, as our purses were 
 better lined, when the weather did not serve, we occasionally 
 made use of a post-chaise. Our course was up tlie Clyde to 
 Biggar, and down the Tweed to Berwick, where we regular- 
 ly posted in our subsequent journey ; visiting all and more of 
 the border curiosities than Sir Walter Scott has since render- 
 ed so meraorabl ). It was in this excursion that I saw, for 
 the first time, Mrs. Siddons perform, at Durham, and the char- 
 acter was Lady Macbeth. The natural earnestness in the 
 famous scene wherein the lady instigates Macbeth to the 
 murder of Duncan, particularly struck mc as the finest thing 
 I had overseen that was not true. 1 can recall no recollection 
 of my efforts in histrionic art with which I have been more 
 delighted. 
 
 The excursion to Durham was the lastot our boyish travels. 
 1 made, afterwards, however, short visits to Glasgow to see Lon- 
 don stars; but no epic adventure beyond the labours of a day. 
 
 It cannot be doubted now, that those desultory and random 
 flights had a great efil^ct in the development of character. 
 They were undertaken earnestly, for the acquisition of know- 
 ledge; and the reminiscence of many circumstances that 
 occurred in them have furnished me witii picturesque topics, 
 and have given me an enjoyment in the perusal of border his- 
 tory and legends which the works of Scott have tended to 
 render always delightful. 
 
 But I felt at Gieenock as if I was never in my proper ele- 
 ment. That soft easiness of temper which so hmg hung 
 
 about me was never there correctly understood, nnd the 
 
 C 
 
 m 
 
 m\ 
 
 ■ I If 
 
 t] 
 
 m 
 
 
 :% 
 
26 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 decisions of my mind, though tardy in being formed, were so 
 suddenly manifested, that I am sure many thought me a rash 
 and precipitate young man. 
 
 But, in saying this, 1 do not mean to insinuate any disparage- 
 ment to the discernment of my early friends ; probably I was 
 only in the chill of that shadow which is unfelt in a different 
 scene. We hear, for example, of many who seem changed by 
 being removed from home. I am not, however, one of those 
 that think mankind ever undergo any alteration. Men are 
 like the camcleon; they take a new colouring from the objects 
 tliey are among : the reptile itself never alters either in 
 shape or substance. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 Wl 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Town library. Locking up of books. Ajilot. The recall 
 of the books. Corps of sharp-shooters. Rejection. Re- 
 solutions thereon. Godwin^s Political Justice. Origin 
 
 of moral sentiments. 
 
 • ' - 
 
 Allusion has already been made to the public library of 
 Greenock, as supplying me regularly with books. The collec- 
 tion was formed with judgment, for although not then calcula- 
 ted to promote any specific study, it was yet admirably adapt- 
 ed to afford the best information which a mercantile 
 community could require. The original institution did credit 
 in this respect to the founders, and their principles had been 
 adhered to by their successors. 
 
 But during the French revolution, when party spirit ran 
 high, the committee who had the management partook of the 
 excitement, and, at their suggestion, at a public meeting, the 
 library was purged in some degree of the tainted authors : 
 namely, Holcrofl, Godwin, &lq,. and the books'were transferred 
 from the library-room to the custody of Mr. John Dunlop, the 
 grandfather of my friend the Doctor. From this unheard-of 
 proceedmg in a Protestant land, great wrath was nursed in 
 the bosoms of the young men connected with the library : 
 mine was inflamed prodigiously, and I never spoke of Mr. 
 Dunlop by any other name than the khaliph Omer. 
 
 When some time had elapsed, and indignation began to take 
 the form of habitude, I recalled to mind that in the annual 
 general meeting for nominating the committee, whoever hap- 
 
 
 8( 
 
 \'- 
 
 ■«■ 
 
 IS 
 
 
28 
 
 Tin: ALTOUIOOttAPIlY OF 
 
 pened to be in the clmir his nominations were accepted. A 
 plot was in consoqiienco set a- toot, and a gentleman who has 
 since lilled the ollice of chief magistrate was^, by the devices 
 of UiG inulconteiiti^, phiced in the chair. WJien the commit- 
 tee came to be named, he took good care that the majority 
 should be of tlie liberals. I do take my full share of this 
 stratagem, and to make short of a long tale, it ended in tri- 
 umphantly recalling the heretical books, and raisnig the rate 
 of the annual subs>cription to get more. In this atfair I was, 
 liowever, not very ostensible, nor have I ever been, in any 
 tiling of a public nature in which I was concerned, obtrusive. 
 The effects of the machination are, however, on the minute- 
 books of the library, and it will be seeii that my modest and 
 prudent friend, Mr. Park, was set forward on the occasion. 
 From that era, the liberals of the town have, I believe, had 
 the ascendancy in the management of the library. 
 
 But although, from this matter of tlic tainted books, it 
 might have been supposed we were of democratic principles, 
 it was not so ; no town was generally more loyal than Green- 
 ock ; for myself, I have never, in any situation, had nmch 
 taste for politics, but I have leant all my life to Toryism ; — 
 my j)olitics are perhaps better expressed by the recently as- 
 sumed term of Conservative. 
 
 At the time of the library intrigue I was a volunteer, the 
 youngest in the corps. Among the inquisitors who banished 
 the books was the colonel, and he remarked at the meeting to 
 Mr. Walter Ritchie, that the books to be .consigned to the 
 custody of Mr. Dunlop were written with so much plausibili- 
 ty, that even he, Mr. Ritchie himself, might be seduced by 
 them. 
 
 I happened to be standing near when he made this speech, 
 a«ul though but comparatively u boy, said, "Then surely 
 there must be some truth in them, lo have such an influence." 
 
 When the second revolutionary war occurred, 1 had harden- 
 ed into somewhat more decision of character, and I set about 
 raising a corps of two companies of sharp-shooters, or riflemen, 
 
 I 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 20 
 
 the first of the kind raised in the volunteer force of the 
 kingdom. In this business, thouc^h rather conspicuous, I did 
 not press myself prom uiently forward; on the coHtrury, the 
 offer of service was first signed by my old friend, the late Mr. 
 Thos. Ritchie, the son of the aforesaid Walter. I next carried 
 it to friend Park, whose signature may be seen, I think, before 
 mine, if the offer of service is still preserved in the archives 
 of the War-Office. 
 
 Some demuf on the point of etiquette occurred, and offer 
 of free service, clothing, and arming ourselves was not ac- 
 cepted. A correspondence ensued with the lord lieutenant of 
 the county, who ultimately wrote tiiat the offer was rejected. 
 
 Full of military aidour, and just as good judges, as wo 
 thought, of the danger to which the country was exposed as 
 his majesty's ministers, we held a meeting in this crisis, at 
 which some resolutions, proposed by me, were adopted. One 
 of them would have done credit to Don Quixotte himself. It 
 was to the effect, that, having been persuaded of the dangers 
 to which the country was exposed, wc had associated our- 
 selves together, and made as liberal an offer as any other body 
 of volunteers in the kingdom; but wo rejoiced to hear that 
 our apprehensions were fallacious, and would retire into pri- 
 vate life on the assurance of his majesty's government that we 
 had nothing to fear, and would severally exert ourselves in 
 our private stations, to counteract, by all the means in our 
 power,' the alarms so industriously spread. At this distance 
 of time, the precise words cannot be quoted, but the represen- 
 tation is probably still extant : it had the desired effect, the 
 officers and corps appeared in the next Gazette. 
 
 This was the last touch of public machination that I prac- 
 tised in Greenock, for I came next year to London. 
 
 But to return to the library, to which I will ever consider 
 myself as greatly indebted! — The fracas of banishing " the 
 pestiferous books" had the effect, as might be expected, of 
 bringing them into notice, and Godwin's Political Justice 
 attracted my attention : in consequence I read it. Never pious 
 
 C 3 
 
 r 
 
 n 
 
 ss 
 
 I,- 
 
80 
 
 THE AUTODTOORAPIIY OF 
 
 catholic was more astonished at the ctlrontery of Luthor'a 
 Commonlary on the Galatians, than I waH with the contents 
 of thot hook. I (lescrihed it to Park ns of the most diaholical 
 kind ; and wiial rendered it to mo the nioie ohnoxious was, it 
 Hoomcd wonderfully true and many of the things in it. My 
 account to Park led him to read it also, and from less to more 
 it grew into vogue. 
 
 But tiiough I could not refute the arp^uments of Mr. God- 
 win, 1 yet was sure that they were wrong, and that there 
 was some instinctive principle of morality which was earlier 
 exercised than reason. Years afler, 1 became more convinc- 
 ed of this, and ultimately of opinion, that wliat was wanted 
 could only be found among the affections. This notion, on my 
 first voyage; to the Mediterranean, I embodied in the follow- 
 ing passage of a poem which 1 then wrote, called the Educa- 
 tion of Medea ; and have lived to see that Mr. Godwin's no- 
 tions on the subject are consigned, with other radical trash, 
 to the midden hole of philosophy. No sensible man imagines 
 now that the world may be better regulated by the deductions 
 of human reason than by the instincts conferred by Heaven : 
 
 EXTRACT FROM 
 
 "THE EDUCATION OF MEDEA." 
 
 " By him inforniM, slie Unrne with now surprise, 
 How inorul Miituru I'urina tlie viicinl lies 
 ' Fioiii sonsual instincts,' Unis KnloB would say . — 
 ' AttVciioii flows anil virtue claims her sway. 
 Tiie toiidt'r niotlior, hy licr baiie carcss'd, 
 Pan of lierMcIf, holds fondly to lur breast. 
 Pleas'd with hislactile food, the infant clinga 
 To his first paradise, and drinks the springs. 
 Wiih opening ray, his mind discerning soon 
 That smiling woman yields the soothing boon, 
 The sex alilte his infant transports share, 
 Nor knows his mother till ht^fecls her care, 
 The fears and pains that tender care allays, 
 His filial worship to her heart repays : 
 In graver kindness, is the father shown. 
 And hence the reverent friendship of the son. 
 
 " ' Lo, at the hearth, with playful children round, 
 
.lOUN UALT. 
 
 e 
 
 c- 
 
 V- 
 
 a- 
 
 U)- 
 
 ms 
 
 
 VVIu're Inyn (l4!li|;(tir, nni\ iiiVHtic tnlen a'^tnund, 
 JuotlcK uimoiiKlil, ttif luKi'KHiM wfaltli ilivi(li-t», 
 And Coiitiilt'iict!, wilb open breast prcaidt's. > 
 
 TUv. (iuick-rirv('iij|(;d niiil Hdoii-lorgollfn wrwnjt, 
 Uiit twiiic ttu.'clioriln.tliat j^iii ttii' jnyoiiH tliroii;;. 
 And love truteinul, ere tlit; world can harm, 
 Ditep ill tlic bosom nvHiIca, cIuhu uiid wurm. 
 
 ■ ' Till) Hliuliter iiitimatori uf riper n\ic, 
 In diiu de^i t'ttH, the partial lieurt eiijjage. 
 For man, a b>in^' finite, frail, iiiui vuin. 
 Can few within iiin wmull embrace contain ; 
 And oft, hy gnsts'of furious pasHion driven, 
 UreaifB from the blest grcgarian chain of heav«n. 
 
 Hence public law ; the comprehensive plan, 
 
 Drawn froHi the hearth, would link the race of man 
 
 But cursU or honour'd with a double life, 
 
 The mental and corporeal still at strife. 
 
 We draw the maxims with a false pretence, 
 
 Still fur tlie plu.isure of the corpor'nl some : 
 
 8till to uphold the gorg(>ou8 dome secure, 
 
 VVc make ilie cause that tempts to guilt the poor.' " 
 
 
 If 
 
 let 
 
 
S3 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 , >-• 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Monthly society. Nature of the speculations. A poem by 
 Park. An ode. The Greenock Advertiser. '^^Contribu- 
 tions. The editor. The Battle of Hohenlinclen. Camp- 
 bell. The Pleasures of Hope. 
 
 During this period, some half a dozen or fewer of my com- 
 panions formed a monthly society, at the instigation of Wil- 
 liam Spence. We read all sorts of essays about every sort of 
 subject, from the " cedar tree that is on Lebanon to the hyssop 
 that springetli out of the wall", and afterwards discussed 
 philosophical topics, and tlien had a supper. But we were not 
 so wise when we broke up, which was after midnight, as 
 when the sederunt commenced at seven o'clock. I was the 
 youngest member, and certainly not the best writer ; both 
 Spence and Park were superior; but it is curious to observe 
 how early innate character begins to manifest itself The 
 essays of William Spence were very astronomical, we thought 
 them profound ; they were all about planets^and comets, the 
 cosmogony of tlie earth, the infinite divisibility of matter, and 
 the boundless of nature, premundane space ; any thing of tliis 
 world was too gross to enter into his speculative theories. 
 
 Park's essays were different ; they inculcated propriety and 
 prudence as virtues above all laud, and when ill health after- 
 wards weakened his energies, no man could conduct himself 
 with such a judicious estimate of the effect of his character. 
 
 My essays were rigmarole things; with the single excep- 
 tion of an allegory on Indolence and Industry, they were the 
 most shocking afRiirs that ever issued from a pen. Yet crude 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 33 
 
 as were the studies and the lucubrations of this society, it 
 lasted several years, and undoubtedly had an important influ- 
 ence on tlie development, if not the formation of the minds of 
 the members. At this day, I must claim for it the merit of 
 having been very wisely conducted, especially when it is 
 considered that it was composed of striplings, and' some of 
 them in after life distinguished for the ardour of their minds. 
 
 Besides the jnental occupation which the library genera- 
 ted and the society stimulated we began at this period to 
 take a decided predilection for literature. Spence, with hia 
 mathematics and music, maintained a mystical predominance. 
 Park and I vvei e addicted to belles letters and poetry. He 
 was nearly a year older than me, and on my seventeenth 
 birthday presented me with a congratulatory ode, which was 
 as common-place as any ditty in a young lady's album. 
 
 This classic tribute set me an imitating, and on his birth- 
 day, which soon followed, a return in kind, beginning mag- 
 nificen*^\ ' with a stanza that I have never forgotten, for with 
 all its grandiloquent rythm it was disgraced by a false rhyme. 
 
 It was thus : 
 
 "Twice nine times throujrh tho signs 
 
 Ilatli Sol iiis blazing chariot driven, 
 And ligulcituil eartii'» remotest climes, 
 
 Since wakened into life you saw ihe light of Heav'n. 
 
 Good God ! to think that one was ever so young as to write 
 such stuff! 
 
 Some time after tjjis, Park, improving in his poetical pre- 
 dilections, wrote "The Astronomer" on our schoolmaster, who 
 taught us geograpliy, astronomy, and mathematics, and which 
 we deemed a production of infinite merit. I have perserved 
 the manuscript. • ' ■ 
 
 "THE ASTRONOMER, 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 I. 
 
 ^t- 
 
 h 
 
 If 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 Addressed to Mr. Colin Lamont, 
 
 " Sauk Orator, who^ie oscillating tongue 
 WitU eloquent vibration doth instruct 
 
34 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 t':'\ 
 
 The ignorant in matiieinatic lore ; t . 
 Geometry, astronomy, or that 
 Which philosophers geography call ; 
 Whether thy visual nerve thou dost apply 
 To quadrant, sextant, or that telescope 
 Whoso w'ond'rous power, reflecting, magnifica 
 Three hundred times ; unfold thy listening ears, 
 And lay them open to admit tiie sound, 
 Or rather, the concussion of the air, 
 Which I thy humlilo pupil shall create 
 By loud vociferation in thy praise. 
 
 " Hut first let me invoke the heavenly Muse, 
 Urania named, that dartinj; from the skies, 
 On wings of fire snatch'd Milton to the stars. 
 IVo humble theuio, O <^!oddess, claims tliy aid ; 
 Inspired by thee, and rapt bcj'ond the clouds, 
 I mean to sing of vast and high attempts, 
 Herculcian labours, Lamont, done by thee I 
 
 " And first I sins, how follow'd by a crowd 
 Of young adventurers, wliom thou didst load 
 With quadrant and theodolet, thou climbMst 
 To corlick's cloudy top, where flioii didst sit 
 Like .Jupiter on Ilia, and siirvej-ed 
 Like him the subject world beneath thy feet ! 
 II<nv like a god thou look'dst, when on its logs 
 TliKU lieavMst the mighty telescope ! Not Jove 
 Could belter wield his thunderbolts, than thou 
 Could'st wield tin; siglit-invigOrating tube. 
 Ti»ere with thy famed theodolet, the prime 
 Of mathematic instruments, thou tri'dst 
 The space betwi.vt Cumbarton and that hill 
 On earth call d Mistilaw, from whence the eye 
 All Ayrshire can survey upon the west! 
 
 '• Descending from this soating height, the muse 
 With admiration ne.\t c:)PtempIatr!J thee 
 Amid the little circle oi" tiiy ;^rliool, 
 Indulging all thy piiilosophic inc. 
 Well may the irin.^e dcscrilK,' tli' riccuslomed scene : 
 The scattcr'd compasses npon the desk, 
 Tim painted globe that reprc-ents tlie earth 
 Attended by a .smaller for the moon ; 
 And for the sun a taper dimly shines. 
 
 " Then do.st tlmu tell of motion and of space, 
 Of mountains and volcanoes in the moon, 
 Of stars whose distant light has not yet reach'd 
 This earthly globe, of gravitating powur, 
 Of planets wiieelin^ wide around the sun 
 Their orbs immense, of suns beyond the sun, 
 
 
JOHN GALT. 35 
 
 •> : •, Of comets rushing lawless though the sky, - * 
 
 (Not sky but ether now itniust be call'd ;) - 
 
 While cornet-like thyself, thou dost digress ; 
 
 Far from the point as comets from the sun. 
 
 "Profound philosopher, how dost thou smile 
 With conscious excellence, and hawk and spit, 
 And chuckle with thy hand upon thy mouth, 
 When gaping round thee with profound amaze. 
 Thy wond'ring pupils question thee again, * 
 
 And labour to express the half-formed thought; 
 How vague and undefined compared with thine! 
 
 " Wilt thou, O sage astronomer, unbend ' 
 
 Thy doubtful brow, and greatly smiling, deign 
 To listen to the muse's humble song, 
 That oft has heard thee with supreme delight, 
 And fain would recompense thee with her praise ? 
 
 " But spurning things terrestrial, Lamont,thou 
 
 Disdain'st the muse's labours, and each night 
 
 Dost wakeful vigil keep to watch the moon. 
 
 With shari»en'd sight to spy out her intrigues ; , 
 
 Heaven's Argus thou, to keep her in control." 
 
 This he dedn ^^rl to me, but there was something — I 
 don't recollect c -in the dedication that made me at the 
 time very angry, x-rom this period the muse of Park grew 
 up into a very well-bred young lady, and he certainly wrote 
 many things of elegance, simplicity, and pathos ; among oth- 
 ers, "The Sabbath, an epistle to a friend", meaning me, which 
 contains several passages of great beauty. It preceded 
 Graham's Sabbath, and may be still seen in Constable's 
 Edinburgh Magazine, in which it was published. I have of- 
 ten thought of collecting his works and publishing the best 
 of them in a volume, but it has not been in my power; the 
 design, however, is not given up. 
 
 After the jargon of the birthday ode I also continued 
 to improve in my poetical effusions. 
 
 It will be recollected that when the preliminary treaty 
 which led to the peace of Amiens was promulgated in Lon- 
 don, the crowds in the streets were banished and many of the 
 illuminations extinguished by a terrible thunder-storm. This 
 incident excited my imagination to a degree which did not 
 require Cobbett's comment to increase. Accordingly, on the 
 
 
 11 
 
 tl 
 
 h'- 
 
36 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 the evening that his paper reached Greenock 1 was reading 
 Gray's Poems, and sat down full of poetic rapture and wrote 
 the following - , 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Rejoice, rejoice ! the witchery works, 
 
 The hour of horror hastens on, . 
 Death in the plndj^eil gohlet lurks, — 
 
 The isle of lioiiour is undone ! 
 
 Hurrah ! the ancient sceptre fails, — 
 Instead, the brand of vengeance sways! — 
 
 Hark: the reign of war prevails, — 
 Boroughs hum and bulwarks blaze. 
 
 The halo leaves the royal head, 
 
 To hi'lmets grim the mitres grow, 
 The lawn is dyed with murder red, 
 And at carousals lewd and dread 
 Batlcr'd chalices o'erflow. 
 
 Away, away, ye pallid crew 
 
 That would the seal of fate unfix 
 The vultures hover thick in view 
 
 That shall your mangled members mix. 
 
 The sun has set no more to rise, 
 Though through tiie stormy clouds awhile • 
 
 His twilight beams may gild the skies 
 That canopy the blasted isle. j. 
 
 The night of sorrow closes round, — 
 
 Stir up the havoc breeding s[(ell ; 
 Staggering earthquakes reel and bound. 
 Despair exults, by madness crownd, — 
 
 Hurry, hags ! halloo ! for hell ! 
 
 I 
 
 I sent it off by the next post and it appeared in the news- 
 paper; afterwards I made some verbal alteration. Proud of 
 this exploit, I did not tell Park of it till after he had read 
 it in the Porcupine and praised it, particularly the phrase *'bat- 
 tered chalices." 
 
 Besides his dealing in staves, we made divers speculations 
 in other literary commodities. When the Greenock Adver- 
 tiser newspaper was set up we became occasional contribu' 
 tors. Park among other things wrote a very sedate, sensi- 
 
 '-■% 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 ble letter concerning the history of the place, and signed 
 it most absurdly " Juvenis." I replied to it in a quizzical man- 
 ner, and signed my letter " Senex," tickled with the name 
 he had assumed. My production was quaint and grave, and 
 drew from a Mr. Whitehead, who was afterwards rector of 
 "the academy at Perth, a reply under the signature of " Adol- 
 escens," in which he controverted my antiquarian theories, 
 and among other things ridiculed " Senex" for an hypothesis 
 about the bay being called St. Lawrence. " Senex" re- 
 plied, and put him. in a terrible passion by alluding to an ex- 
 pression ho had made use of about the saints and a porridge- 
 pot, supposing that the young gentleman had iiis breakfast 
 in view when he was writing iiis letter. What ensued was 
 torrifiic ; a warning that all critics and a uthors should be in- 
 formed of and lay to mind. We however soon forgot the al- 
 tercation, for the young heart is plump, and repulsive to dis- 
 agreeable impressions. We became friends, and many a 
 game at whist afterwards discussed together, to which cor- 
 diality the controversy in the newspapers undoubtedly minis- 
 tered. I do not know if Mr. Whitehead be yet alive. 
 
 I should not omit this opportunity to mention that the 
 Greenock paper was established by a Mr. John Davidson, a 
 connexion with whom was afterwards formed by Mr. Thomas 
 Campbell, the poet, in his marriage. Mr. Davidson was a 
 . very worthy illess bodie, and he has in my opinion the merit 
 of first shewi) ? with how little intellectual ability a newspa- 
 per may be C' ducted. I say not this in malice, but in so- 
 ber sadness ; foi when Campbell wrote his " Battle of Hoen- 
 linden," I got an early copy, which I sent to Mr. Dav idson 
 to be insei ted, but he with a sage face afterwards told me, 
 that it was not worthy of a place in his paper. All the world, 
 howerer, has since difiered with Mr. Davidson in that opin- 
 ion, and indeed it may be said of every opinion that he eith- 
 er then held or afterwards blazoned with his paper trumpet. 
 1 wonder if tlie poor man is still alive. He stands in my re- 
 collection as a beautiful proof of the wise ordination of na- 
 ture, in shewing how little propriety of conduct has to do 
 with the endowment of mind. D 
 
 l..i 
 *■■■ 
 
 
38 
 
 THB AUTOBIOOBAPHY OF 
 
 Campbell began his poetical career by an Ossianic poem, 
 which was published by bis schocl-fellows when he was on- 
 ly thirteen. At fifteen, he wrote a poem on the queen of 
 France, which was published in the Glasgow Courier. At 
 eighteen, ,he printed his elegy called " Love and Mad- 
 ness ;" and at twenty-one, before the finishing of his twen- 
 ty-second year, The Pleasures of Hope. 
 
 Pai 
 
 fore 
 ma^ 
 Par 
 tha< 
 of] 
 
 denj 
 
 ip. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 89 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Course of reading. A great victory. G^'Hc antiquities. 
 Ode. Tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots. Worhs illus- 
 tralive of Scottish history. 
 
 In the mean time, my reading was extensive and various ; 
 chiefly, however, among books of knowledge rather than 
 those of imagination. Not that I had any predilection for 
 works of that kind ; but they were indirectly recommended 
 to me by my friend Park, who, I thought, now and then bored 
 me with his maxims of utility. He led the way in our 
 course of reading; but 1 obtahied at last a great victory^ 
 over him. 
 
 The late Dr. Leyden, one of the original writers in the 
 Edinburgh Review, in preparing to go to India, resolved to 
 publish a new edition of Wilson's descriptive poem of " The 
 Clyde," a composition of considerable merit, with a memoir 
 of the author. In this undertaking he applied to the poet's 
 daughter for anecdotes, and as an acquaintance, she applied 
 to me. 
 
 Wilson had been grammar-schoolmaster at Greenock, and 
 Park had been one of his pupilS; and also a Mr. Hugh Craw- 
 ford, who was, when Leyden ^made the apnlication, chief 
 magistrate of the town. It was in consequence agreed, that 
 Park and the baillie should draw up their recollections, and 
 that I should arrange with Mrs. Wilson a connected sketch 
 of her father's life. 
 
 When the three papers were ready, and sent to Dr. Ley- 
 den, on receiving them he returned thanks, and bestowed 
 
 
 *^1' 
 
rf 
 
 40 
 
 THE AL'TOBIOGKArilT OF 
 
 great laud and praise on my paper, witliout particularly noti- 
 cing the other two communications. This made me not a 
 little proud, and still more so to see, when the work was pub- 
 lished, that my article was frailfed, if I may so speak, in his 
 biograpliical sketch ; indeed, with a little enlargement, his 
 life of Wilson prefixed to the poem is mine. With a view to 
 this composition I have tried to recover Dr. Leyden's letter 
 on the occasion ; but in the course of time it has fallen aside, 
 and cannot now be found. Beinjj from home when the Doc- 
 tor's letter arrived, Park wrote, telling mc of the preference 
 my paper had obtained, dolorously lamenting the fate of his 
 own lucubration and the baillie's. 
 
 I should not omit to mention a very laughable error jof which 
 I was guilty in this affair. When the poet was appointed 
 to tiie school, the magistrates, for " good and substantial 
 reasons best known to themselves," stipulated that he should 
 forego poetry, and in speaking of the stipulation, I said that 
 it was required in taking charge of the school, that he should 
 cea^e to cultivate " the protane and unprofitable art of poem- 
 making." I had nothuig in view save a fling at the boss- 
 headed baillies, but Dr. Lcyden took the joke as no jest, and 
 with foot advanced and hand uplifted, declaimed on the Presby- 
 terian bigotry at great length, as may be seen in his book 
 even unto this day. ' 
 
 About this time T had several works in hand, and was 
 over liead and cars in the depths of Gothic antiquities 
 some how prompted by rinkorton's Disserlation and Mallet's 
 Researclies. However, I was providentially rescued by an 
 error of the press, when I transmitted a lucubration to the 
 Edinburgh Magazine, to which Park and I became stealthy 
 contributors: It was a most recondite essay on Polytheism* 
 in which an essential name was wrong spelt ; the mistake, 
 though but in one letter, was so absurd, that it brought on 
 such a fit of laughing, by which all my antiquarian vapours 
 were dispersed, and I never could abide to thmk of the sub- 
 ject with gravity enough to resume it afterwards. The es- 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 41 
 
 say, with all its imperfections on its head, is in the October 
 number of the year 1802. 
 
 By the way a tale hangs about those occult intrigues with 
 the Edinburgh Magazine. They began with a dim and dis- 
 tant version of the eighth ode of the first book of Horace, 
 which I attempted to do into Scotch. 
 
 This, unknown even to Park, I sent to the magazine ; when 
 lo, the editor published the ode in the body ot the magazine 
 soliciting further communications. Of course I was not long 
 of disclosing the secret to Park, and from that time we grew 
 into occasional contributors. . 
 
 Not being very well, and obliged to keep my room, I 
 wrote a tragedy on the story of Mary Queen of Scots. It 
 was before Graham's Mary Stuart, and I thouglit it a fine 
 thing; no doubt it was dreadful enough. What became of it 
 I know not. 
 
 Being ever in the habit of apportioning my time, not so much 
 by regular subdivisions as by giving to each task a certain 
 allotment, I have had a great deal more leisure than most 
 men ; till latterly, since I lost the power of being active 
 Thus it happened, though my antiquarian pursuits were aban- 
 doned, I betook me to the composition of a poem, imitating 
 the style of the Edda. To this work I gave two hours eve- 
 ry Sunday evening. Respecting its merits or faults notice 
 will be taken when I come to speak of the publication ; but 
 it is necessary to mention here, that two parts of it were sent 
 to the magazine, in April 1803 and January 1804, and with 
 the manuscript, I mentioned having formed a design of illus- 
 trating the Scottish history by tales and poems. 
 
 But it was reserved for a greater genius to anticipate me. 
 Sir Walter Scott has done what wayward fortune obliged 
 me to renounce. I shall, however, have occasion to notice 
 a still more singular anticipation. At the same time, it should 
 be observed that I do not propose to mention every work un- 
 dertook or scheme designed: but only such as had some 
 bias on my conduct and led to effects. 
 
 D 4 
 
 n 
 
 
43 
 
 THE AUTOBIOORAPUY OF 
 
 CHAPTER. X. 
 
 Conclusion of the first epoch, . 
 
 When the fulness of time was conic that I wus ordained to 
 leave Greenock, tJio proximate cause was not known to more 
 tlian two or three persons, nor will I say it altogether in- 
 duced me to leave the place, but undoubtedly it precipitated 
 the resolution to do so. * ■ 
 
 The first revolutionary war had contributed to form in Glas- 
 gow a number of purse-proud men, who neither had the edu- 
 cation nor the feelings of g-enthunen. One of these persons, in 
 some matter of business, wrote to our concern a most abusive 
 letter. It came by the post late in the evening-, and I re- 
 ceived it in the counting-house. - 
 
 My blood boiled, and I determined to have an apology. Ac- 
 cordingly, I sent lor Mr. Ewing, and declared to iiim my 
 intention ; and having supped at hoMie, I mentioned that some 
 business would call me to Glasgow in the morning. At an 
 early hour I set oil; but on my arrival there the delinquent 
 was gone to Edinburgh. I posted alter, and reached tho Turf 
 CotFee-house about four o'clock. On sending for him to his 
 tavern, he had gone to Leith to dinner ; but where I could 
 not learn. At nine o'clock I again sent for him, as a stran- 
 ger, and as he was at home he immediately came. On en- 
 tering the room I told him who I was, and showed him the 
 letter, inquiring if he wrote it. He at once acknowleged 
 it, and said it was done in a passion. " That," replied I, 
 " will not do for me, I must have a written apology for sending 
 such an unmannerly production." 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 43 
 
 At first he refused, and dwelt upon a man not being able 
 sometimes to restrain his feelinga 
 
 At this moment a waiter came into the room for some- 
 thing or another ; I followed him, and requesting not again 
 to be interrupted, bolted the door. 
 
 My man was a good deal surprised at this, but still refused, 
 and bade me go to law. I made no answer; but taking out 
 my watch, laid it on the table ; by the time it wanted ten 
 minutes of ten, and I said firmly, 
 
 " At ten o'clock I expect a letter from you, until then we 
 can have no conversation ; but the door is bolted, and 1 shall 
 take care we are not interrupted ;" leaning with my back 
 against the door. He addressed me several times, but I made 
 no answer. Before the ten minutes expired, as I had writing 
 materials ready, he sat down and wrote an apology. Wish- 
 ing him good night, I said that I would not know him again, 
 never liaving been introduced to him. 
 
 .After this exploit I had my supper, eating it with no great 
 appetite. At eleven o'clock at night 1 ordered a post-chaise 
 for Glasgow ; but in the course of my journey many things 
 came to n)iud, and instead of going home to Greenock I di- 
 verged to Irvine, and tlicnce apprised my father and Mr. 
 Ewing of my intention to quit Greenock. 
 
 My fatlier and mother came immediately to me, and 
 brought with them what I sliall ever esteem as a very broth- 
 erly letter from Mr. Ewing; but my resolution was fixed 
 tliough it was not carried into effect till many months afler. 
 This was the proximate motive for my coming to London 
 where I had neither friend nor acquaintance, a forlorn adven- 
 turer as fcould well be. 
 
 On the morning when I bade adieu to Greenock, my 
 father accompanied me in the post-chaise w^hich was to con- 
 vey mo early enough to meet the London mail-coach at 
 Glasgow. Tiie air was bright and calm, but I was exceed- 
 ingly depressed. During the first stage scarcely a word was 
 exchanged, and while the horses were changed at the Bish- 
 
 >'.. 
 V 
 
 ^ 
 
44 
 
 THK AU rOBIOOHAPIIY OF 
 
 opton inn, the usual Btajye in those days between Greenock 
 and Glasgow, I walked back on the fields alone with no buoy- 
 ant heart. 
 
 ^^^^ The view towards Argyleshiro from the brow of the hill, 
 
 i|^ is perhaps one of the most picturesque in the world. I have 
 since seen some of the finest scenes, but none superior. At 
 the time it seemed as if some pensive influence rested on 
 the mountains, and silently allured me back ; and this feeling 
 was superstitionsly augmented, by happening in the same 
 moment to turn round and beholding the eastern sky which 
 lay in the direction of my journey, sullenly overcast. 
 
 On returning to the inn, the horses had been some time 
 in harness, and my father was little impatient at my absence, 
 but conjecturing what was passing in my mind, said little, nor 
 did we speak much to each other till the waiter of the inn 
 opened the door for us to alight at Glasgow. In truth, I was 
 not blind to the perils which awaited me, but my obstinacy 
 was too indulgently considered. 
 
 The remainder of the journey to London was not distin- 
 guished by any adventure; we reached, the Bull and Mouth 
 Inn, and rested there till after breakfast, when we adjourned 
 to the Globe Tavern in Fleet Street, resolving so long as 
 my father remained in London to reside there. 
 
 My life at Greenock for some time prior to my departure 
 from the town, and the fatigue of the journey, made me rath- 
 er unwell, so that till after dinner 1 felt inclined to stay in 
 the house and go again to bed. 
 
 On different occasions I have attempted to describe the feel- 
 ings of a stranger when he first arrives in London, but all 
 of them are mitigated compared with what I experienced. 
 
 
JOHN UALT. 
 
 ',•'»■ 
 
 SECOND EPOCH. 
 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory Letters. Scarcely of (my use. Discovered a 
 Partner. The Result. 
 
 I BROUGHT to London a whole mail of introductory Ifittcri', 
 the delivery of which afforded inc a curious view of human isfi* 
 ture. My reception by the different gentlemen to whom thry 
 were addressed was various: doubtless the consequence or 
 the degree of intimacy with, or obligation to, the writers vf 
 the letters. Some received me with cordiality; others f.ool- 
 ly ; but several, who had been particularly prosperous, did nol 
 evince any very peculiar gratitude fur the favours of fortune. 
 
 To three or four gentlemen I had letters from different 
 individuals, and in delivering them I happened to observe m 
 what manner they respectively looked at them, an evidence 
 which led me to inter, from this tacit action something of iha 
 value I might attach to the introductions: nor were my con* 
 elusions erroneous. 
 
 From those who opened the letters of their hr.siness corres- 
 pondents first, the augury was not favourable: but the result 
 was different when the letters of private friends were prefer- 
 red ; especially when, besides that preference, the subsequert 
 conversation was directed to ascertain on what footing i hivi 
 stood, with the writers. According to the degree of ':.y inti- 
 macy was the friendliness of my reception. 
 
 When I had delivered all my letters', av.1 received many in- 
 vitations to dinner, it became very listinr;'. that none were like- 
 ly to be of any use in furthering my views, and I concluded 
 that every thing depended on fiiyself. The discovery was not 
 
46 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 ■# 
 
 exhilarating; on the contrary, it made me for some time mo- 
 rose; but when I had thought better of it, the mood changed, 
 growing a little sterner than previously, and more systematic 
 than my former acquaintance could probably have supposed. 
 
 Finding no assistance to be derived from others, I began to 
 look about for myself, and discovered a most suitable connec- 
 tion; a Mr. M'Lachlan, from our part of the country. ' Ho 
 was a delicate young man, endowed with many qualities 
 that made him interesting; mgenuous in* his disposition, and 
 possessed of much to make him an agreeable companion. 
 
 A copartnery was in consequence formed, and its success 
 equalled our most sanguine expectations ; but it had not been 
 long established when Mr. M'Lachlan became restless, and 
 
 then proposed to spend a short time with his friends. 
 
 The excessive warmth with which my consent was receiv- 
 ed surprised me, and was increased to something like amaze- 
 ment at the suddenness afterwards of his departure. 
 
 He had been engaged in business before we came together, 
 but as sufficient time had elapsed, I believed all his transac- 
 tions were closed. Scarcely, however, had he left town, when 
 my attention was excited towards them, and I learned that he 
 had not paid off, but had only renewed his bills. This disco- 
 very led to inquiry ,"and it was soon ascertained that he was 
 insolvent, not to a great amount. The bills, however were 
 paid, and I wrote to him what had been discovered. 
 
 His conduct, when he knew I was acquainted with the fact, 
 and what was done, was truly exemplary. He immediately 
 returned to town, evincing himself in all respects possessed 
 of the integrity and qualities for which he had at first been 
 trusted ; but the concealment could not be overlooked, and 
 accordingly he was at once told, that though our connection 
 should continue, yet, save in the counting-house, we must 
 be strangers. * 
 
 For twelve months we never exchanged words except on 
 matters of business, but at the expiry of a year, as he had 
 

 JOHN OALT. 
 
 47 
 
 amply satisfied me, I proposed the renewal of our former 
 intimacy, nor was there ever after occasion to rue the recon- 
 ciliation. His death prodigiously affected me ; I deemed him 
 fortunate in the event, and his father wrote me that his last 
 words were an expression of good wishes for my welfare. 
 
 Mr. Park was acquainted with the whole transaction, and 
 his letter expressed what he thought of it. 
 
 "Almost immediately after sending off my letter on Friday, 
 I was informed by your brother of the favourable state of 
 affairs ; with what satisfaction I need not attempt to say. 
 This event gives me the more pleasure, as it is so clearly the 
 result of your own management and perseverance, as Mr. 
 M'Lachlan makes no difficulty in declaring, that he is entire- 
 ly indebted to you for the preservation of his son, and that it 
 was your representations alone that determined him W the 
 step he has taken. I trust that matters are now in such a 
 train that though they may give you some further trouble, 
 they will never agam occasion such vexation as you have 
 experienced for some time past." 
 
 I ought to mention here, that when Park was informed of 
 my embarrassment, he made me an offer of all his ready mo- 
 ney ; but fortunately, I did not require it. It was spontane- 
 ously proposed by himself, and belongs to tho;i3 traits of 
 friendship, that I delight to recollect, and enjoy pleasure more 
 than in acknowledging. '^^ 
 
 €M: 
 
 i^i 
 
 V 
 
 ft 
 
 $^ 
 
48 
 
 THE AUTOIilOGIlArilY OF 
 
 m . CHAPTER II. 
 
 Six months in London. Change of Character. My first 
 Publication. Gothic Poem. Battle of Largs. Criticisms. 
 Mysteries. Diplomacy. Suppression of the Poem. 
 
 During my first idle six months in London, my time was spent 
 by day in seeing sights, and by night in the theatres or in 
 reading, save when I happened to be engaged. This routine, 
 thougii duJI, gave me a lively impression of the disconsolate 
 condition of him who has nofi'iend in Babylon. But the irk- 
 someness sharpened my turn for observation, and having more 
 leisure at my command than I had ever before possessed, the 
 effect was obvious, insomuch as to draw from Park, with 
 whom I regularly corresponded some notice of the change : 
 he thought it was to my advantage, for ho says in a letter 
 written in little more than three months after our separation, 
 "Your improvement is apparent e /en in your letters, and I 
 had designed to mention it to you, even if you had not your- 
 self introduced the subject. You have several passages which 
 I am confident any man of taste, who did not know you would 
 pronounce to be written by a person habitually eloquent. As 
 I have not room for examples, I shall only bring to your recol- 
 lection one sentence in your last letter, where you describe 
 Impudence gaining admission into the temple of Fortune, by 
 •elbowing here, and creeping between the legs of statlier 
 Ability there,' an expression worthy of Burns in his most in- 
 dignant moments." 
 
 My letters were delivered to me by Mr. Park's brother , 
 after his death, and 1 flung the parcel into the fire, but hope 
 there is no idle vanity now in referring to any commendation 
 that implied praise to my youth. I was then an aspiring 
 young man, " the world was all before me," but that is past. 
 If there were blossoms, they have come to no fruit. 
 
■■/*•• 
 
 johh oalt. 
 
 ':t 
 
 49 
 
 Helpless, forgotten, sad, nnd lame 
 On one lone seat the live long day, 
 .1 I muse of youth and dream of fame, 
 
 Vt And hopes and wishes all away. / ' • : 
 
 . ■• ■ -•'", . ■■ ' ' " " 
 
 * No more to me with carol gay, * 
 
 Shall mounting lark from pasture rise, 
 
 Nor breezes bland on upland play, 
 
 ,. , - ■ , Nor far fair scenes my steps entice. 
 
 Ah, never more beneath the skiee, 
 '; The winged heart shall glowing soar, ' 's 
 
 Nor e'er be reach'd the goal or prize,— 
 The spells of life enchant no more. , - ■ ^ .• 
 
 ' The burning thougiit, the boding sigh, ' 
 
 The grief unnam'd that old men feel, 
 - Tlie languid limbs that withering lie, ' 
 
 ■ Tlie powerless will's effectless zeal; 
 ' All these are mine, and Heaven bestows • '-;> - 
 
 The gifts, but siill I And them woes. 
 
 When I look back on the period alluded to, many things 
 obtruded upon my recollection, little heeded at the time, but 
 which no doubt contributed to the change. Indeed from the 
 event that hastened my departure from Greenock, there must 
 have been some visible modification of character about me ; 
 for I remember that Park one morning, when speaking to 
 him of Forsyth's Essays, as remarkable compositions, inquir- 
 ed which I thought most of, and when I mentioned, "On 
 , decision of character," he said, gravely, that he was sorry to 
 hear it, for he had been afraid to direct my attention to that 
 paper, as bethought it calculated to encourage a bias of mind 
 in me, which should rather be repressed. But although de- 
 cisive, I was not rash, I only seemed to be so, for it was not my 
 disposition to disclose resolutions till they were to be carried 
 into action; they were not the wiser, however, by being so 
 considerately formed ; I only know that rashness never belong- 
 ed to me, even while I acknowledge myself the tool of im- 
 pulses. — Park did not suspect the existence in me of a consti- 
 tutional quality, which in latter years has had great influence, 
 namely — a self absorption, which has very much the appear- 
 ance of absence of mind, it is in fact, however, intense ear- 
 nestness. But as I may probably hereailer publish the few, 
 
 E 
 
 w^ 
 
 ijl 
 
 <P 
 
50 
 
 Tir^' AUTODIOoaAPHY OF 
 
 but beautiful relics and letters of Park, no more need be 
 . said on this subjecthere.., 
 
 Our corresponden(8e consit^ted, if I may use the expression, 
 of an exchange of thought. I have recently looked over his 
 letters, and they forcibly recall the spirit of our conversations ; 
 they are, perhaps, the finest specimens extant of communica- 
 tions not intended for the public eye. They shew too truly 
 how often I stood in need of his advice, reminding" me of 
 what A! fieri says of the preceptive fricndsiiip of Count Balbi 
 to whom he owed so much. -. - 
 
 In little more than a month after the letter just quoted, T 
 resolved to publish my Gothic poem of "the Battle of Largs," 
 from sheer want of something else to do. Specimens may be 
 seen, shockingly printed, in the Scot's Magazine of April, 
 1808, and January, 1804; notwithstanding friend Park's opin- 
 ion of it, they, however, display considerable power and crigi- 
 nality. But as a proof of the freedom which prevailed 
 between us, I will give his sentiments at full length, and 
 the good natured reader will, T hope, not be offended with the 
 prolixity. 
 
 ''2' November, 1804. 
 
 "The appearance of a letter from you, out of the regular 
 order, gave me a very agreeable surprise, but my emotion was 
 increased tenfold when I saw the contents, and learned you 
 were so soon to make your dehut in the literary world. — 
 Since matters are this length, I am sorry for the dissuasive 
 against publication which I addressed to you in my last; but I 
 assure you it was more seriously expressed than meant. * * 
 * * I do not wonder at your anxiety about a proper pre- 
 face. I consider it ns the most important part of a book, as it 
 is what the reader generally first looks to and thus often deter- 
 mines its fate on the hook-seller's counter. Theone you have 
 written does not altogether please my taste, and as criticism is 
 a very tedious thing, and takes up a great deal of room, I 
 thought it would be easier for myself, and also Ynore satis- 
 factory to you, to attempt something according to my own 
 
 I 
 \ 
 
 a 
 
 2 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 51 
 
 ideas, which you will find within. I turned and polished it 
 with all the care I am master of, as a neat conciseness is the 
 proper style of preface writing. Do not scruple to alter it to 
 your own taste, or even to reject it altogether if it does not 
 please you ; if it should furnish you wiili only a single hint or 
 expression, I shall think my pains well bestowed. I left out 
 the promise of notes to the second edition, partly because 
 such intimations are apt to hurt the sale of the first imi)ression 
 and partly because I think they have somewhat the air of 
 beseeching public favour. 
 
 "I agree with you in thinking an inscription or a dedica- 
 tion improper in an anonymous work. If my name, which you 
 kindly hint at, were prefixed in this way, it would at once 
 disclose the whole secret to all our acquaintance. * * 
 
 " I shall not, therefore, waste time on the sonnet, but pro- 
 ceed to an examination of your introductory verses. " The 
 Roman lamp, line third, may do, but I do not like ' the Gre- 
 cian fire,' which in this place has no distinct meaning. ' Pine 
 clad cliffs', is rather a harsh combination of sounds. The 
 four lines beginning with 'Solemn hymns' are admirable, 
 particularly the third line — 
 
 "Bugle blasts of chivalry and war," &c. 
 
 But those which follow are so very much inferior, that I 
 would exclude them altogether, nor do I think they are at 
 all needed. To save time, I shall set the poem down with the 
 alterations I would suggest, that you may see how it looks. 
 
 " Unlieaid in s-ocrecy's low vaulted coll. 
 Thclouely Muse attuned the sounding shell, 
 f No temple's cclio to her voice replied, 
 Where awful shade?- with memory reside. 
 •• Yet through the clcfted rock's romantic form, 
 ,^ Kindling the clouds that drifted on u.e blurm. 
 The setting sun would dart a fiery li;,'lil. 
 And milder moonshine tinge the jiloDm of night; 
 • ■ ' . The solemn hymns by holy organs pealed, . 
 
 . •. . * ^ From ancient abbeys half ill trees concealed. 
 And bugle blasts of chivalry and war, 
 From the high battlement resountling far, 
 " " . Swelled on her ear, and b'ending in her thought, 
 
 - A mimic strain of ancient rudeness tauyht. 
 
 [ I 
 
52 
 
 THE AUTOBIOOHAPIIY OF 
 
 n 
 
 This is sufficiently lon^, and appears to me to compre- 
 hend every thing that it would be proper to say on the occa- 
 sion. I shall be impatient till I hear from you again about so 
 interesting a business, let me know particularly how soon you 
 will be published, the expense of printing, &c. By the way, 
 you ought to be very careful in correcting the press, as the 
 printers are apt to neglect accuracy in their attention to ele- 
 gance. Try if you cannot make a better line for ' milder 
 moonshine,' &c., if not, it will do well enough." 
 
 In the next letter. Park says, on the same subject, — 
 
 "14^A November, 1804. 
 
 ♦' 1 am glad that the preface met your approbation ; but 
 you are surely not in earnest when you talk of acknowledg- 
 ing such a trifle. lam of your opinion with regard to 
 and will, therefore, take the first opportunity to make him 
 promise silence. How soon will you be advertised. I could 
 wish that the moment your book is ready for publication you 
 would send me a copy by the coach, as I shall be all impa- 
 tience till I see !(,." 
 
 What ensued I do not recollect ; but I was in Scotland, and 
 find the next letter from Mr. Park, dated the 16lh of Februa- 
 ry, 1805. 
 
 " I dare say you are surprised, and I doubt not, in a state of 
 hot displeasure, that I have not answered your letter sooner 
 my apology is, that for nearly a fortnight past I have been 
 from home, chiefly in Edinburgh, and only relumed yesterday 
 evening. I have some alarming intelligence for you from that 
 city, no less than that the arch critic (Mr. Jeffrey) has or- 
 dered your book from London, for the purpose of being brought 
 to trial before his dread tribunal. Moreover, Constable has 
 discovered the author ! I supped at his house the night before 
 I left Edinburgh, when he took occasion to mention the Bat- 
 tle of Largs as a new publication, and asked me if I had seen 
 it. Alarmed at the question, I endeavoured to turn it oflf, by 
 saying that I had seen it advertised as the Battle of Largs; 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 5a 
 
 f 
 
 but I found it would not do. ***** As I clearly- 
 perceived ft'om his manner, that he knew the whole secret 
 thought it best to make a voluntary disclosure, for the sake 
 of obtaining his promise not to mention any thing of the mat- 
 ter. He made me this promise very readily, but I am a lit- 
 tle doubtful whether he will be quite scrupulous in keeping 
 it, especially as the communication was rather extorted than 
 confidential; he said however, that he would do what he could 
 for promoting the sale, and I believe his influence in this res- 
 pect will be of advantage : his opinion of Highly is that ho 
 is a slow man and not well calculated for doing a work jus- 
 tice as a publisher. I need scarcely add, that whether the 
 book will be reviewed or not depends entirely upon the editor." 
 
 In a letter of the 26th of Februarv : — 
 
 *' Now for the Battle of Largs; your observation on my 
 want of diplomatic address in the negociation with Constable 
 is 1 think unmerited, for after considering the whole affair at 
 my leisure, I could not find that 1 could with propriety have 
 acted otherwise than I did, nor do I now see that any good 
 can arise from writing to Constable on the subject, as all and 
 more than you have suggested 1 said to him in my conver- 
 sation with him." 
 
 It does not appear that after this letter any thing more was 
 said by Mr. Park respecting the poem, further than that by 
 way of illustration he thought it only poetical in passages, 
 and that the freedom of my prose style shewed more ability 
 but I rather think from something mentioned in a letter af- 
 terwards that I must have early communicated to hinnt my in- 
 tention to suppress the work. I do not recollect by what 
 motive I was induced to this determination, but he congratu- 
 lates me on the resolution, for I wrote a great deal of rhyth- 
 mical trash, though occasionally not all bad. 
 
 \ 
 
 i . ._ f .. ,^ 
 
 '4» l-' 
 
 E 5 
 
54 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 f :■■ * 
 
 f "■ f* 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 An amiable treat of human nature. Anecdote of Lord 
 Erskine. Mr. Archibald Thomson, the engineer. Singu- 
 lar instance of gratitude. 
 
 Except business in the forenoon and study in the evening, the 
 time passed with me in London in an even tenor ; and I still 
 regret how much circumstances, and of lato my lameness, 
 have prevented me from associating so intimately as I have 
 wished with early friends. I ought not, however, to omit no- 
 ticing my experience of one of those agreeable instances of 
 the amiable in human nature which has always kept the world 
 to me, bad as others say it is, sweet and relishing. 
 
 Soon after coming to London' I had, at the request of a 
 friend, endeavoured to recover payment of a bill. Something 
 in the letter, now forgotten, induced me to call myself; it 
 was on Mr. Archibald Thomson, the engineer, an honest, sim- 
 ple, and ingenious man, the inventor of the machinery for 
 making ropes. — At that time he was in a course of experi- 
 ments by orders from Messrs. Pitt and Dundas, and he very 
 frankly told me that just at the time he could not pay the bill, 
 but said that as soon as possible he would do it, and that till his 
 experiments were completed it was protracting the period of 
 payment to molest him. Something in his manner interested 
 me and 1 consented to give him indulgence, but said all de- 
 pended on the good-will of the person who was the holder of 
 the bill. I would not, however, be the instrument of puttingf 
 him to any trouble. 
 
 The incident had nothing remarkable in it, but after a long 
 period had elapsed I saw him with surprise enter my room. 
 
 The object of his visit was soon told. He was acquainted 
 with Lord Erskine, at that time chancellor, and had spoken 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 55 
 
 with him respecting some flaw in an agreement with another 
 party. His lordship advised him to get a statement of his 
 case drawn up, requesting him to bring it himself, when 
 he would give him the best advice in his power. In conse- 
 quence he came to me to whom he related the particulars. 
 Struck with the incidents I at once promised to draw up a 
 narrative of what he said, requesting him to call next morn- 
 ing. When he came it was ready, for my only endeavour was 
 to make the case as plain and concise as possible. 
 
 From me he v/ent to Lord Erskine, whom he found at home 
 and who immediately received the paper. On opening it his 
 lordship said it was not drawn up by a professional man, 
 nevertheless it might bo to the point, and accordingly he 
 perused it thoughtfully, and as Mr. Thomson afterwards told 
 me, expressed himself pleased with the document, advising 
 him what to do. 
 
 A very considerable time after I met Thomson in a coffee- 
 house which I was in the habit of frequenting, saying that he 
 had come on purpose to see me, and mentioned that he felt ho 
 had been much obliged to me, at the same time was anxious 
 to show his gratitude. 
 
 " I have come to tell you," said he, " that a proposal has been 
 made to me to make a steam-boat for the Thames, (there 
 was none on the river at that time,) and to offer you one of 
 my shares if the project goes on." 
 
 Greatly struck with the circumstance I expressed myself 
 much obliged, but declined of course a gift so disproportioned 
 to the service. Never, however, could I think of him after- 
 wards without experiencing a peculiar feeling, his conduct 
 was at once so extraordinary and good. 
 
 1 became afterwards intimate with him to his death, and 
 have ever cherished a more than common respect for his me- 
 mory. Nothing I had done was more than one man should do 
 for another ; moreover I afterwards learned he had come to me 
 to state his case at the suggestion of a mutual friend. 
 
 One of his observations when speaking of his case was so 
 true, and yet so simple, that I have never forgotten it In al- 
 
 i 
 
 't 
 
 
56 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 lusion to Ihe little reward he had obtained for his ingenuity, 
 he remarked, as if it were a thing springing from the will, 
 " What is the use of my inventing 1" 
 
 Not aware of the particular result of the controvery in 
 which Lord Erskine was his friend, I cannot say how tar it 
 was entirely successful, especially as the parties with whom 
 he was at issue were my own acquaintance, and I did not 
 chooao to inquire ; but I shall ever remember with particular 
 pleasure the native honesty, combined with a singular me- 
 chanical genius, in this unpretending man. 
 
 '.#t«r 
 
 ^ 
 
JOILN OALT. 
 
 57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 m 
 
 Studies in London. Family historieti. Metaphysical obser- 
 vations. Crimes and pitnislunents. 
 
 I DID not relax in my endeavours to fill my mind with that 
 kind of knowledge which might prove useful in tlie mercan- 
 tile profession, but still for recreation, as the bow could not be 
 ah. ays bent, I amused myself with belles lettres studies. On 
 these Park, who was acquainted with my pursuits, gave some- 
 times more advice than was always requisite. He seemed to 
 consider excellence in literature as of a more sacred nature 
 than ever I did, who looked upon it but as a means of influ- 
 ence ; indeed it is but few authors who are very enviable ; it 
 is a poor trade. 
 
 Notwithstanding I have put together many books, and be- 
 come so various an author, it has been rather in consequence 
 of the want of active engagements than from a predominant 
 predilection for the art. I would, no doubt, unless my time 
 had been fully occupied with business, have still been an au- 
 thor, but would have followed the promptings and impulses of 
 my own taste instead of thinking of what might be profi- 
 table. Al\ the time I was in Canada I never thought of 
 study, wholly wrapt up in busmess, it seemed to furnish a 
 theme for literature, to which distinction in letters was some- 
 thing inferior. It has been only when I had nothing else 
 . to do, that.l have had recourse to this secondary pursuit. 
 
 My studies while in business were truly exemplary, at least 
 1 never met with any companion who employed his leisure 
 better. I made myself master very early of the Lex Mer- 
 catoria, not merely by reading it through, but by studying it 
 as necessary to my progress in the world. 1 composed a trea- 
 f,# tise on the practice of underwriting, as sanctioned by the 
 existing laws and the decisions of tribunals : chagrin at the 
 
 » I' 
 t 
 
5.S 
 
 THE AUTOIJIOOUArilY OF 
 
 cloud which overcame my prospects uiduced me to destroy 
 tlie muimscript. I composed also a history, to the time of 
 Edward III. inclusive, of the ancient commerce of En^^iand, 
 a work of rc8enrch;and wrote likewise a history of bills of 
 exchange, tor although always a desultory student I now and 
 then read in veins and strata, pursuing particular objects with 
 ardor, directness, and assiduity. I say not this in vanity, but 
 in proof of the ambition with which J was actuated — a man 
 whose purposes of life are passed may be allowed to say so 
 much with impunity ! 
 
 But besides literary lucubrations, difTeront designs wore on 
 the carpet ; for 1 soon took a distato to mere pastimes, not 
 however in any degree secluding mysoli', though ceasing to 
 relish parties which offered only amusement. In this state of 
 preference for serious inquiries I count myself singularly 
 fortunate, in liaving formed an acquamtance with a Mr. 
 James Hamilton, who, in addition to superior qualifications for 
 busines", united a remarkable taste for llimily history and her- 
 aldry, with a bias for the finer workings of tiie mind such as is 
 rarely met with. In liis society and in liis house I have pas- 
 sed njy iiappiest evenings. His wife possessed many amiable 
 qualities, but above all the admirable tact of perceiving what 
 was agreeable to her husband, and the good sense to endeav- 
 our to i)rocurc it. With them I was for years at home ; nor 
 is it the least of my losses to deplore the death of the one 
 and the absence in a foreign country, probably for ever, of 
 the otlier. ^ ', , :^', 
 
 From Hamilton, without regular study, I am conscious of 
 having derived a complete knov.'ledge of families, their des- 
 cents, and connexions, and rare recondite things of heraldry 
 that makes me seem learned in that hieroglyphical language 
 to many who affect to have studied it more. If ever this 
 work should fall into his hands, he will regret to hear that a 
 friend, who must ever remember him with emotion, is three 
 parts already dead, and whose adventures are now closed. 
 
 But although I still consider Hamilton as one of the most 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 50 
 
 accomplished of my oarly frionfls in London, I folt that with 
 him thorc was not all that confidenco which endeared tho 
 recollection of more youthful cuinpaniouH. In his house, howev- 
 er, 1 learnt an invidious lesson. IIo was naturally hospi- 
 table ; had frequently parties; and beinj^ in business his gucsta 
 were often of a mixed kind, who in themselves furnished 
 food for observation. I was in consequence led occasionally 
 to observe soine of the characters at iiis table with no com- 
 mon scrutiny. The result was an inference which subsequent 
 experience confirmed. 
 
 It appeared to me tliai thoso destined to rise higher in 
 the world had about thcnn soinethino; vv'.iich indicated their 
 superiority. It could not bo described, but every thing about 
 them shewed as it were that thoy panted for a higher ele- 
 ment; a second class were (piitc at their ease, and I con- 
 cluded that they found themselves in their station ; but the 
 third were altogether persons whom an iidierent awkward- 
 ness marked as out of, and above their sphere, to which 
 they were destined to sink. 
 
 This sort of semi-philosophy did not occur however to mo 
 suddenly, I was long of making much progress in it, but at last 
 it served to explain many phenomena, and made me so sharp- 
 sighted as seldom to make a mistake. But this power of di»- 
 crimhiating character, which is an attaininent that study may 
 acquire, is not much calculated to increase a man's enjoy- 
 ment. One does not like to think disparagingly of others 
 without some better reason than their manner of behaving 
 themselves in society, especially in a time when the destinies 
 of the world seem averse to any improvement in the condi- 
 tion and circumstances of man. 
 
 The world, at the time I made this remark, was beginning 
 to develope to me its real peculiarities, and the phantasies 
 with which the youthful imagination invests things, to vanish, 
 as the mists of the morning dissolve before the rising -day. 
 Mankind became more individualized, and though there was 
 perhaps no diminution in my collective estimate of the race, 
 
 it 
 
 II 
 
ed 
 
 THB AVTODIOGItAPHY OF 
 
 some rose higher and others fell lower in my opinion : man- 
 ners appeared to be more an index to fortune than a conse- 
 quence 
 
 At this time, also, 1 know not now from what cause, I 
 entered upon a curious course of observation in which I made 
 some proficiency, at least it is now allowed that the discrimi- 
 nation of character is among the most remarkable of my pre- 
 tensions. I cannot describe the course of the study nor how 
 the effects may be turned to any account, but still of their 
 * truth there can be no doubt. It appeared to me casually that 
 the fortunes of individuals were wonderfully alike, that is to 
 say, each person in his fortunes did not so much resemble 
 another person as in the sameness obvious m the incidents of 
 his own fate. 
 
 When a man was prosperc his prosperity seemed to extend 
 to all about him, and when tiie reverse, his domestic circum- 
 stances p?i ook of the disasters that blighted his public for- 
 tunes. The old adage, " It never rains but it pours," was 
 confirmed. 
 
 In metaphysical researches of this kind my attention was of- 
 ten engaged, and if other and more serious cares had not 
 intervened, I would probably have been able to reduce the 
 fruits of these inquiries into something like a system : the use 
 of it is howev not very clear. But no one questions the 
 utility ot the sublime mathematics, though it very seldom 
 happens that mathematicians can tell the use of them. The 
 cares of business, however, before my theories were- ripe, 
 began to derange my philosophy. 
 
 I should not, however, omit to mention an occurrence in 
 this epoch that has had a great effect in colouring my mind 
 from its original hue. The structure of the mind was not 
 changed, but certainly its complexion ; and when I state the 
 cause the reader will little think it was adequate if he is an 
 ordinary man, and if extraordinary, he will regard me as 
 strangely aflected. I allude to the impression which an ar- 
 ticle in the Edinburgh Review made on me, respecting the 
 works of Filanghieri, the Neapolitan. 
 
JOHN GaLT. 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Crimes and sins. Ilow considered by legislalures. They 
 are diseases. Effects of the French revolution. 
 
 Without any previous consideration, excepting the work of 
 Beccaria on Crimes and Punishments, always to me unsat- 
 isfactory, I stumbled by a sort of accident on the inquiries of 
 Filanghieri: and few intellectual productions have excited me 
 so much. He appeared to have discovered a right road 
 to truth, but was not bold enough to pursue it. With much 
 thai he affirmed and deduced, I was willing to go hand and 
 glove, but he seemed afraid of conmiitting himself by stat- 
 ing what he thought of crimes and sins. 
 
 After an agitating view of his philosophy I began to frame 
 a new doctrine for myself, by which sins seemed the bases 
 of crimes, although there were crimes of a very deep die, of 
 which the original sins were comparatively not deemed hein- 
 ous. From this distinction, I inferred that crimes were pro- 
 scribed by the laws of society, but that sins were things 
 against the system of nature, and that legislatures never 
 thought of interfering with them, but left, their punishment 
 to the re-action of nature. The conclusion was opposed to 
 the doctrines of Beccaria, inasmuch as crimes and sins came 
 to be regarded as the offspri.^g of diseases or constitu- 
 tional secretions, which made punishment necessarily nugato- 
 ry. I agreed with Moses, l.owever, no bad authority, that put- 
 ting to death was the only way of getting rid of malefictors. 
 In a word, that puuisiunont for example, showed but a shal- 
 low knowledge of human n;\ture, and that it would be just 
 as wise to expect a man could be cured of the scrofula by 
 punishing another more afflicted with that malady, as to hope 
 
 F 
 
62 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that a criminal could be won from his propensities by siiow- 
 ing him others incurring the penalty of malpractices. 
 
 Whether this view was sound or insane, I have not since 
 attempted to inquire, but the influence of the doctrine has 
 had a surprising eflect, in at once softening pity for the guilty, 
 and increasing sternness for the infliction of punishment. — 
 As we confine madmen, we incarcerate delinquents : they 
 but differ in their diseases. However, it is perhaps fortu- 
 nate for the world, that notions of this kind are not common, 
 nor have I been able to discern how such a morbid inference 
 may be drawn from the reflections of Filanghieri. I say 
 morbid, but I think the contrary, for it appears even now, that 
 humanity is more consulted in the mitigation of punishment 
 than a wise policy derived from the nature of man. Our dis- 
 eases or offences are manifold, and society is not willing to 
 touch more of them than is requisite for keeping the social 
 community in order ; we are in society, held together by 
 ties more slender than we are willing to believe. The 
 dissolution of the social order by the French revolution has 
 given a lesson which has not yet been sufficiently studied. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 :) 
 
 Free trade. Differ from the government 'plans. An in- 
 cident with respect to Upper Canada. ^ ,,,. 
 
 In this period I was indefatigably industrious, but still greatly 
 regret my misspent time, for the industry was but barren toil. 
 Nothing came of my work, and the buds were blighted on the 
 point of beginning to disclose. 
 
 In addition to the studies mentioned in the preceding chap- 
 ter, I paid attention to the science of political economy, by 
 endeavouring to acquire some knowledge of its principles. — 
 But I very soon discovered that they were perplexed and 
 embarrassed by the subdivision of the earih into separate na- 
 tions. The existence of that subdivision seemed to me to pre- 
 sent insurmountable obstacles to the establishment of that right 
 commercial system to which the French merchants alluded in 
 their famous " laissez nous faire" to Turgot, and that wc 
 were in consequence only allowed instead of a science the 
 consideration of that policy which political circumstances re- 
 quired; still I conceived that we could more nearly approxi- 
 mate to it than we had done. 
 
 I have since been very proud of this anticipation of public 
 opinion, and may now speak of it soberly as a sound prac- 
 tical view. The inference was entirely my own, and the 
 voucher of the historical fact was published in the Philo- 
 sophical Magazine at the time, long before public attention 
 was drawn to the subject. 
 
 My pursuits, especially with respect to the free trade ques- 
 tion, made me ready when the discussion arose, to take a part 
 in it with more maturity than most people, and accordingly 
 in my little circle I was soon known as the opponent of the 
 Huskissonian charlatanry. I use the word because no other 
 
64 
 
 THE AUTOUIOGllAPHV OF 
 
 presents itself to me at this moment which so fully expresses 
 my opinion, at tlie same tunc I really believe that he posses- 
 sed some hazy honest glimmerings of truth. It only never 
 appeared to me that he understood what he talked about, 
 and no clearer proof may be adduced than such a total oc- 
 cultation to him of the system of nature, as to imagine any 
 measures of human legislation could suddenly alter the ordi- 
 nations of Providence. Why, the Christian religion is in its 
 nineieenth centiu-y, and though there can be no doubt of the 
 excellence of his morality, mankind are not yet arrived at 
 such a state of improvement as to be practically ruled by it. 
 No doubt trade is in a state of perfectibility as well as man, 
 but even the coffin of England will be rotten before the world 
 can be in a condition to abrogate the usages of commercial 
 policy. — Huskisson's doctrines were supposed by himself to be 
 founded on science, and yet every Ihie of his precepts was 
 regulated by the maxims of expediency. His in&ufficiert in- 
 formation might have been pardoned, for its effects were 
 doomed to resolve themselves to dust in t'^e next age, but 
 his unstatesman like dabbling with all that needed only re- 
 form, not revolution, is still lamented by thousands, exclaim- 
 ing, how is it after eighteen years of peace that we are 
 thus dragged by an invisible power into a " lower depth" of 
 insatiable poverty I 
 
 But let me not here be misunderstood, for loudly as I 
 would condemn the crude theories of Mr. lluskisson, T do 
 not maintain that all the manipulations, as they may be called^ 
 of liis free trade policy, were erroneouss. — Tiie improved 
 knowledge of the age suggested to him the necessity of wv- 
 eral better regulations in the practice of commerce than 
 had previously existed, but it marks the dearth of talent 
 in the time that such an individual could have risen amono" 
 the ministers of nations. It is however time to return from 
 this digression, and to speak what more nearly concerns the 
 object of these sketclies. 
 
 The reader will recollect what was said of the view of 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 G5 
 
 \ 
 
 the Falls of Niagara on tlie day of the King Crispin proces- 
 sion at Kilmarnock, to amuse tiie Misses Scot. The scene 
 never faded from my recollection ; but the most remote idea 
 of becoming connected with the Canadas, never occurred to 
 me, although various circumstances continued to keep it in 
 remembrance. Among otliers, a relation, a schoolfellow, went 
 out to that country when young, and by him, as we sometimes 
 corresponded, the province was kept in mind; about tliis time 
 he came to London, and staying with me I picked out of liim 
 all the information I could, respecting Upper Canada; tiie 
 particulars were afterwards embodied in a paper, which pro- 
 fessed to be a statistical account of the country, and was 
 published in the Philosophical Magazine. 
 
 As I was then a member of the Society for the En- 
 couragement of Arts, I exerted myself to induce the Com- 
 mittee of the proper department to offer a medal or premi- 
 um tor tiie cultivation of hemp in that country, and the en- 
 deavour was successful ; but I know not the effect, only I 
 observed in the Gazette, wlien I first went to the province, 
 an advertisement, which reminded me of the circumstance. — 
 Mr. Gilkison,* at my instigation, obtained by tlie late Earl 
 of Selkirk, in the tenders for liemp, Canadian liemp to be 
 inserted: butstill tbe notion of taking any particular interest 
 in that region never was then conceived by mo ; — the coun- 
 try became however, more circumstantially known. 
 
 Tiiis incident is, in itself, not deserving of notice, but as a 
 link in an important chain it merits serious attention; few 
 biographical sketches with which I am acquamted, present, 
 inde*^d, sucli a series of trans ctions, that so well deserve 
 the epitliet of fatal in the philosopliical sense of the tern). 
 
 I have alreaay described the effect which the view of the 
 Falls of Niagara had on me, but what is there said conveys 
 no adequate idea of the impression. It has since struck me 
 
 * By f't*^ "'"^" i^ imy '•» innitioMcd, ilmt yrstcrdMy I received notice of hia 
 dfuTi. H*' fi'ii lied t ' lipiff-r Canada, nliert' lif bnimlit half a tnvvn!=liip to 
 s*-;!!!' un my piuii. lli; p<t«H!es>ed some literary talent. I liave his iiianu- 
 scripts. 
 
 F 6 
 
CG 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 as one of those agitating and forcible impulses of destiny, 
 which direct some men on in their course, and to the issue 
 ot their fortunes. Mysterious from its violence, and the vivid- 
 ness with which it has ever remained, subsequent events seem 
 to justify me in considering it as belonging to the concatena- 
 tions of Faie. 
 
 
 5 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 67 
 
 le 
 a- 
 
 I- 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Embarrassments in business. Go to Greenock. Return to 
 London. An interview. Meeting oj the insolvent's credit- 
 vrs called. Support from Mr. Gemmel. 
 
 In the course of the third year of my connection with Mr. 
 M'Lachlan, we found ourselves embarrassed by difficulties 
 that had overtaken a correspondent to whom we were much 
 obliged. We did all in our power to assist him, but his case 
 was worse than we had imagined. 
 
 In advance on a bill of lading for bullion which he sent us, 
 we came under large acceptances, but on the arrival of the 
 man of war with the treasure, he suddenly stopped payment 
 even before it could be lodged in the Bank of England. This 
 step was exceedingly exasperating: we received the news 
 on a Monday morning: I went home after reading the letters 
 broke up my little establishment, and set off by the mail coach 
 in the evening to know how his circumstances stood. Our 
 bills were not then all due, and if it appeared that he posses- 
 sed the reversion, we were led to believe, his means would 
 be equal in the end to meet all difficulties. 
 
 On my arrival at Greenock I was persuaded that the esti- 
 mate was not overrated, and therefore applied to his friends 
 txi come forward and assist. But in the course of the day I 
 found two thousand pounds^of the bills drt:wn on us had been 
 given, to pay debts to relations, and that the other friends 
 were indisposed to assist. 
 
 That same evening I went to Edinburgli and procured a 
 warrant of arrest from the judges of all the property of his 
 house that^ could be discovered in the kingdom ; a similar 
 warrant had not been issued since the Union, and as it was 
 served by expresses to every debtor known, I soon had the 
 
 .:! 
 
66 
 
 THK AUTOUIOUUAPIIY OF 
 
 gratificntion to learn that nil the tangible assets were stopjied 
 by this procL'odino". A meeting of the creditors was inevita- 
 ble; in the mean time I Jicard privately that steps were taking 
 to make the house who had brougiit us into this trouble 
 bankrupt. 
 
 At the meeting of the creditors T proposed to identify our- 
 selves with the insolvents, on condition that the money from 
 abroad should be given as originally destined to us: a proposi- 
 tion which was readily agreed to, and it was begun to be acted 
 upon ; but in this crisis, the Danish islands in the West In- 
 dies were blockaded, and another house for which we were 
 equally pledged was brougiit into jeopardy. 
 
 This new and additional misfortune 1 had not the courage 
 to withstand, and seeing wc must stop payment, returned im- 
 mediately to London, where I arrived on Saturday and gave 
 my opinion to Mr. M'ljachlan of the situation to which we 
 were reduced. Judge, however, of my astonishment, when 
 on corning along Newgate Street on Sunday morning, I met 
 the gentleman who had brougiit us into such trouble full in 
 the face. He had arrived that morning from Greenock, and 
 must have come off the day following my departure. 
 
 Greatly struck, I peremptorily required him to come along 
 with me to my house, in which there was only a house keeper 
 to take care of it till I could find a tenant. 
 
 The interview at homo would liave been a good scefie in a 
 novel or drama, for although in no very obvious state of ex- 
 citement, my manners undoubtedly felt the influence of a 
 condensed resolution. I incjuired, why he liad come to Lon- 
 don, wiiere he was going, and why 1 was not the first person 
 on whom he waited. These were undoubtedly proud and im- 
 pertinent questions, but the hopes of all my life were at stake 
 as well as the comforts of my father in his old age. 
 
 The interrogatives were candidly answered. 
 
 I had explained to the gentleman in confidence our new 
 misfortune, and our inability to master it. He therefore said 
 that in thinking of what I had informed hiin,he conceived that 
 
 ' 
 
lOHN OALT. 
 
 it was beKt for him to be iii London wlien we stopped payment. 
 As to whore he was gointr, he answered, to an agent, nam- 
 ing iiim, ot'liis particular friends to make arrangements against 
 the event, and tiil that was done, he did not intend to call. 
 
 There was notiiing to object to this, but merely in a general 
 way to state tliat being rumed, I had resolved not tu go back 
 to Greenock. 
 
 "Then," said he, "as you don't care about the Greenock 
 people, will you let me state that you deceived mel" 
 
 No answer was made to him, but I looked at him steadily 
 and immediately after left the room. 
 
 My partner and Mr. William Spence, who happened to be 
 in London, were in the parlour, where 1 joined them in such 
 an evident liuster that they both rose and asked what was 
 the matter. 
 
 Unable to speak, but turning round to the window, I saw 
 our strange friend leave the house, and presently becoming 
 more composed, told theni what had passed. 
 
 With great prudence, as I now think, they made no remark 
 on an occurrence so incredible. I forget what they had met 
 upon now, but we agreed to go to Richmond to dinner, which 
 we did, the impression of .the transaction of the morning 
 sinking deeper and deeper. 
 
 We dined earlier than common ; and during dinner Spence, 
 in a far off way, began to express his doubts if I had under- 
 stood the gentleman correctly. 
 
 We settled our bill and returned immediately to town, 
 where I insisted on Spence going to the Bull and Mouth, and 
 ascertaining from the gentleman still there, if what I had re- 
 ported were true. We arrived between nine and ten, and I 
 remained in Newgate Street with Mr. M'Lachlan while 
 Spence went to the inn. 
 
 We walked in the street, and in a short time were joined 
 by the others; and the insolvent came up to me and held out 
 his hand in his usual manner, but I did not take it ; and turning 
 
 i 
 
70 
 
 TIIC AUTOUIOJJRAPHY OF 
 
 round to Mr. Spence, inquired if he had told what had been 
 said and if it were correct. 
 
 Acknowledging that I was right, the objectof our solicitude 
 said he had spoken foolishly. I instantly took M'Lachlan's 
 arm and walked away, who in the course of the walk,confes8ed 
 that if tlie proi)OHal had not been acknowledged, it was so 
 extraordinary that he could not iiave believed it. 
 
 Next morning, my mind being made up, I tdld him how I 
 would act. The first tiling was to return to Scotland, and try 
 by calling the insolvent's creditors together, if they would 
 relieve us from the identification of our interests with his con- 
 cerns, by wliich I had got the bullion. 
 
 " Wo are ruined as it is," said I, " but this improbable mea- 
 sure may save us; for if we arc relieved from this embarrass- 
 ment, we can fight our other difficulties." 
 
 That day Spence used all his powers of persuasion to in- 
 duce me to forgive the offence, and had so far succeeded, that 
 he took me to the lodgings to which the gentleman had re- 
 moved. The visit was merely one of ceremony, but affecting 
 to me. Tiie lodgings were much inferior to what I ever 
 expected to see him inlmbit, and the tenor of his conversa- 
 tion, though in his usual manner, betrayed his utter aban- 
 donment of hope. 
 
 When I had made some arrangement? that seemed necessary 
 1 went by the mail to Scotland to execute my purpose, and 
 lost no time in carrying it into effect by summoning the meet- 
 ing of the creditors. The step was novel and excited a good 
 deal of talk. 
 
 Some time before the meeting took place, the insolvent ar- 
 rived from London, and wrote to a friend of mine, Mr. Alex- 
 ander Gordon, now of Great King Street, Edinburgh, supposing 
 that I was backed in that quarter, stating that I had called his 
 creditors together, and insinuating nothing to my advantage. 
 
 This step heightened my mdignation into rage, for Mr. 
 Gordon shewed rae the letter. In the mean time I ascertained 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 H 
 
 that the bills of the house at Greenock from abroad were, in- 
 stead of four thousand pounds or thereabout, upwards of four- 
 teen thousand had appeared. Tina strengthened iny determi- 
 nation, and I sew no alternative but only to make a full 
 discloHurc to the most unlikely man in all the neighbourhood to 
 render any assistance, James Gemmel the banker, of Green- 
 ock, afterwards of Drumtochty Castle ; but he was a just man, 
 and he was so much pleased with the confidence, that he told 
 me he would support us independent of the banking-house till 
 1 gave him notice that he could no longer do so with safety ; 
 enjoining me, however, to keep it secret. 
 
 /»«• 
 
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 IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 Photographic 
 
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 (716) 872-4503 
 
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72 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIIT. 
 
 Meeting of creditors. Attempt at relief, 
 gular trait of g enerosity. 
 
 Failure. Sin- 
 
 The day appointed for the general meeting of creditors arriv- 
 ed, and a great number were present ; about sixty thousand 
 pounds of claimants. As the meeting was called by uie I took 
 the chair, and stated that the foreign bills of the house had 
 increased from four to fourteen thousand pounds, and that the 
 assets in property were considerably over-valued, in so much 
 that on consulting my partner wo were of opinion that the 
 aflair would end in ruin ; and the only thing for the meeting 
 to consider was, whether that identification of our interests 
 with their debtors should be persevered in. 
 
 ■ " The debtors," said I, " are ruined, and you cannot change 
 their situation; we are still standing, and were we relieved 
 from our connexion with you, we would endeavour to struggle 
 on. We cannot pay you back the amount of the treasure, 
 because it has been applied to pay the acceptances granted on 
 the feith of the consignment, but we will engage not to take 
 any dividends till they amount to the sum we have received, 
 and in fact place you as much as possible exactly in the state 
 in which you stood when the debtors first stopped payment, — 
 if you will relieve us from our responsibility." 
 
 To this proposition no objection was at first made, and the 
 insolvent with some of his friends who were present, said no- 
 thmg. Tn the end it was pressed upon me to take time, and 
 one influential gentleman proposed to give me seven years ; 
 but when he repeated this earnestly, I said aloud that no 
 earthlyconsideration would induce me to continue the connex- 
 ion, and that as 1 saw a vote would not do, I would get a deed 
 prepared, and'call on every creditor individually myself; then 
 leaving the chair, the meeting broke up. 
 
 I 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 73 
 
 • 
 
 Immediately after the parchment was prepared, and that 
 afternoon signatures procured. When I had exhausted the 
 creditors in Greenock, and had obtained a large relief, I went 
 next day to Glasgow, and procured other signatures to the 
 deed. I think the whole was above thirty-five thousand 
 pounds, besides our own debt. The debts were fully seventy 
 thousand, but the difficulty which occurred, in some cases, and 
 the absolute refusal of those who had obtained our bills, in 
 the process of carrying the identification into effect, to re- 
 lieve us, decided the business. Though our capital was 
 nominally entire, and a considerable balance at the credit of 
 our profit and loss account, I returned to London, and after 
 settling a few matters, declared our establishment bankrupt. 
 
 Whether in this transaction I acted wisely or well, the 
 reader can judge ; I think myself, now that I am a feeble and 
 ailing man, my conduct more spirited than prudent, but there 
 was none to advise me, aud perhaps even yet I should do the 
 same thing. Our discharge from our creditors followed im- 
 mediately, and apparently we suffered no other change than 
 the dissolution of our copartnery, Mr. M^Lachlan went to hig 
 father. 
 
 In these affairs I have to record a very singular incident 
 
 Among the letters that 1 brought with me from Scotland, 
 when I first came to London, was one which my sister pro- 
 cured from the late John M'Taggart's sister, — John M*Tag- 
 gart of the house of Kymer and M'Taggart. The manner in 
 which he looked at his sister's letter when £ delivered it, and 
 three or four times at me when he was reading it, prepos- 
 sessed me very much in his favour. Like others, he however 
 merely in the usual way invited me to his house at Notts 
 Green ; but the acquaintance continued to be kept up by " nods 
 and becks" ever after. No particular friendship resulted, 
 only he now and then asked how 1 was getting on, and there 
 was something in the manner that always showed kind- 
 ness. 
 
 In the troubles and shocks that preceded our catastrophe, w« 
 
 G 
 
74 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 had, in consequence of bills from abroad falling due on Sun- 
 day and payable on Saturday, occasion for a large sum of 
 money, for we could not reckon on our own funds till Monday. 
 At two o'clock we were still a thousand pounds short. 
 
 " Well,', said I, "the game's up ; our bills must be noted, 
 for we will not pay any now. In our situation a stoppage is 
 ruin." . 
 
 Between two and three o'clock both Mr. M'Lachlan and 
 myself were becomingly disconsolate, and the worst was 
 that a sum of money he had borrowed on honour must be 
 constituted a regular debt. I do not know how it is, but men 
 certainly sometimes think much in a short space, nor can I 
 describe the process of thought which affected me. At three 
 o'clock I went on 'Change to wait for Mr. M'Taggart, and 
 to ask him for a thousand pounds till our own funds were 
 available. 
 
 In doing this I was entirely impelled by the manner in 
 which he had received his sister's letter : the transaction 
 however was a last resource. 
 
 I told him exactly how we stood, and what depended on 
 keeping our credit till we saw how the land lay. Mr. M'Tag- 
 gart looked at me, and then said. 
 
 "I will if I can, lend you the thousand pounds; come away 
 with me till I see the state of my banker's account." 
 
 Accordingly I accompanied him to his banker's, where he 
 gave me a check for a thousand pounds, saying, 
 
 " Now I trust to your own honour for repayment." 
 
 And he took no acknowledgment from me. The money I 
 was enabled to repay as promised. 
 
 This little affair could not be forgotten, and it so happened 
 that years after,— I think he was then dead, — a carriage stop- 
 ped at my door and the servant brought in the name of Mrs. 
 M'Taggart : the whole transaction suddenly brightened in 
 my memory. The lady was shown into the drawing-room» 
 and [ went to her. 
 
 W' 
 
JOHN O ALT. 
 
 76 
 
 It was Mrs. M'Taggart, tlie authoress of dramas, and since 
 of a very pleasant work called the " Memoirs of a Gentle- 
 woman," her autobiography. She is still alive, now nearly 
 eighty, and 'she had come to me respecting her dramas. — 
 Her name, and the pleasant frankness of her manners, pre- 
 possessed me in her favour, and particularly as I took it into 
 my head that she had been married to a relation of my 
 friend. I believe indeed she was, for, if not in error, I have 
 seen her since in young M'Taggart's carriage, but 
 
 " To whom related, or by wliom begot," 
 
 was never a question ; her name and herself were sufficient 
 recommendations. We are still very good friends, but, odd 
 as it may seem, I have never inquired as to my surmise 
 respecting her having been married to a relation of Mr. M'Tag- 
 gart's; so averse am I to recall the past, especially in mat- 
 ters that bring up disagreeable recollections. 
 
 id 
 
 )- 
 
 B. 
 
 in 
 
 n» 
 
 -•■i 
 
 I 
 
n 
 
 THX AUTOBIOGRAPHY Of 
 
 X 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Renewal of business. Farce of the Watch-house, 
 currence. My brother established at Honduras, 
 of Lincoln^ s Inn. Go abroad. Reflections. 
 
 An OC' 
 I enter 
 
 I was induced, mnch against my own will and opinion, te 
 renew the mercantile profession. My brother joined me, 
 who possessGd very considerable talent, bu? a little given to 
 the weakness of speaking of his deeds. The farce of the 
 " Watch-house," in the new British theatre, was v;ritten by 
 him. Being ill at the time, I could not hold a pen, and only 
 in phrases assisted him ; but it does not detract from his merit 
 to say, that although some of his productions show considera- 
 ble ability, literature was not his forte. He had inherited, 
 however, our mother's relish of tlie ridiculous and her incom- 
 parable occasional Scottish phraseology. 
 
 In vain I contended agamst fortune. The excitement I had 
 undergone would not be subdued ; and I was determined to 
 quit commercial business as soon as 1 could see my brother 
 established. In this juncture, one of those unforeseen occurs 
 rences frequent in my life came to pass. Mr. Walter Ritchie 
 proposed that my brother should go out to Honduras to as- 
 certain if there was any opening there for a new establish- 
 ment, because, if there were, he had an intention of forming 
 one and Tom should have charge of it. Accordingly my 
 brother went, and on his retnrn the design was carried into 
 effect. This decided me. 
 
 When Tom sailed the first time, being afflicted with a ner- 
 vous complauit, I was advised to spend a short time at Bath 
 for recreation. On his return, and while the preliminaries 
 for the establishment at Honduras were forming, I entered 
 myself of Lincoln's Inn, and partly for my health, as well as 
 to pass the time before being called to the bar, went abroad^ 
 
 ■f^'' 
 
 
 J 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 77 
 
 The Walcheron expedition was preparing, and the Medi- 
 terranean packet was embargoed at Falmouth when 1 arrived 
 there, but when the embargo was raised I departed from 
 England. 
 
 It is unnecessary to inform the reader that this crisis of my 
 life was not pleasant ; I would be justified indeed in stating 
 that it was bitter, but it serves no good purpose to indulge 
 disagreeable remembrances. It could not, however, be dis- 
 guised from myself that I was about to be borne into the 
 scene of a new world, in which there was no reason to ex- 
 pect that my chequered destiny would be changed. But 
 there was at the time a consoling advantage in my pros- 
 pects ; a young man ignorant of the world, who thought him- 
 self fit for any thing he was likely to undertake, was not 
 easily daunted. 
 
 The study of the law was not at variance with my habits ; 
 it required less versatility in the application of the mind than 
 the profession I had supposed myself to have abandoned, not 
 then sufficiently aware that the law requires not only patron- 
 age, but a peculiar class of litigious connexions ; in fact, the 
 aid of friends is as much wanted in it as in any other calling 
 or business. It was not till enabled to think at 'cisure of 
 entering Lincoln's Inn, that I saw myself incurring more 
 hazard than at the time I imagined. 
 
 One who conceits himself to be at least equal to his neigh- 
 bours in energy, is very apt to make a false estimate of the 
 chances of life. He sees that men only get forward by their 
 own talents, and it is not till he has obtained some insight of 
 the world that he discovers, although this be true, he is yet 
 apt to undervalue difficulties by attending Ijo much to that 
 circurastance. At the outset of life there is no profession 
 whatever to which the aid of friends, he the individual's tal- 
 ent what it may, is not essential. If he possess superior 
 ability, he will in time, with the precursor of friendship make 
 himself distinguished, but if he be only an ordinary person 
 be will never rise above his first establishment. At the time 
 
 G 2 
 
78 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPUY Of 
 
 howe?er, of which I am treating, I was reluctant to believe 
 this; a more accurate knowledge of human rivalry, however, 
 has left no room to doubt the fact, and it has reconciled me to 
 my subsequent desultory life ; for afterwards it did not appear 
 within the scope of probability that 1 could have made my 
 way to the bar to any satisfactory degree of distinction. No 
 one existed on whom I could fasten the slightest claim for as- 
 sistance, nor could I discern any chance in store to facilitate 
 an ambitious career by the law. 
 
 With reflections of this kind, though not of so determined a 
 caste, I bade adieu to England, half desiring that no event 
 might occur to make me ever wish to return, and yet for this 
 morbid feeling 1 had no cause. Nothing in the world had oc- 
 curred to make me greatly averse to it ; even the extraordina- 
 ry conduct of my debtor seemed the effect more of a mental 
 aberration than of design, at all events he was not actuated 
 from the workings of his own mind, so much as by the sugges- 
 tions of one more intimately acquainted with the ways of man- 
 kind ; he was only a tool in a more skilful hand. Often and 
 often since have I endeavoured to understand, how it was 
 possible for a man, possessed of a fair measure of understand- 
 ing, to think another could endure such a series of actions, as 
 he developed towards those of whom he had unfortunately 
 been the ruin. But as I had thrown myself like a die from 
 the dice-box in my London adventure, I felt no fear in this 
 voyage. It would have been, however, rather ludicrous to have 
 braved the storm like Cnesar, with the brag of my fortune; 
 butsomethinglikea sentiment of the same kind undoubtedly 
 sustained me. 
 
 4 
 
 *'4 
 
 ^1 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 79 
 
 THIRD EPOCH. 
 
 n 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 First meeting with Byron. Land at Cagliari. Dine with 
 the Ambassador. Byron's grandiloquent thanks to him 
 Byron and Hothouse wait in the packet to be saluted at 
 Malta. Guns sulky. Byron and Hobhouse reduced to 
 a state of beggary. Relieved by Mr. Chabot. Hospital- 
 ity of the Maltese merchants. 
 
 On the day of my arrival at GibraHar I first became acquain- 
 ted with the celebrated Lord Byron. The meeting was pure- 
 ly accidental ; T was proceeding to the Mediterranean in 
 quest of health, and happened to be on board the same packet 
 in which his lordship embarked for Malta. In my biographi- 
 cal sketch of that distinguished nobleman, I have mentioned 
 the circumstances of our first recounter, and it is not very ne- 
 cessary to repeat them minutely here, at the same time, they 
 cannot with propriety be omitted, though to those familiar with 
 the original account, it may seem superfluous. 
 
 While sitting in the garrison library r young man came 
 in and seated himself at one of the table; opposite to me 
 His dress indicated a metropolitan of some fashion ; it was 
 neat and simple, with so much peculiarity as served to show 
 that he was not altogether a common beau. 
 
 His face appeared not unknown to me, and I began to con- 
 jecture where I could have seen it. It was prepossessing 
 and intelligent, but ever and anon he gathered his brows, a 
 habit which I afterwards discovered might be the scowl of 
 unpleasant reminiscences: his general physiognomy, how- 
 ever, was impressed with elegance and character, but in 
 
80 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 a much inferior degree to those who have seldom seen him. 
 and who have worked out of their imaginations a being eo 
 beautiful, as to little resemble him. 
 
 1 dined that day with Colonel Wright, the secretary of the 
 fortress, with a large party, among whom was the Countess 
 of Westmoreland, with Tom Sheridan and his accomplished 
 lady. Sheridan, in relating the local news, mentioned that 
 Lord Byron and Mr. Hobhouse had |come in from Spain in- 
 tending to proceed up the Mediterranean. 
 
 Hobhouse had, some time before 1 left London, published 
 certain translations of classic poems, rather respectable in 
 their way if poetry not excellent can be respectable, but 
 they are defunct ; and Byron's name was in ridiculous odour 
 with me by the Edinburgh Review, and his English Bards 
 and Scotch Reviewers, — a satire then in some repute, since 
 become famous in consequence of the merit of subsequent 
 productions. 
 
 In embarking 1 recognized the visitor to the library, and 
 he proved to be Lord Byrcn ; while the luggage was hoisting 
 on board, his lordship kept his " state," which made me 
 suspect him of pride and irascibility, while his frowning fore- 
 head began to awaken wonder and beget conjectures. 
 
 Our passage to Sardinia was calm and pleasant. About 
 the third day Byron relented from his rapt mood, and seemed 
 disposed to contribute his fair proportion to the general en- 
 deavour to while away the lediousness of a dull passag»«. Of 
 the two travellers, Hobhouse was upon the whole the most 
 agreeable and told stories with some humour, but, I doubced 
 then, if he were as truly facetious as his friend in those hours 
 when the fit of pleasantry was upon him. 
 
 As we approached the Gulf of Cagliari, a strong breeze 
 came trom the land, ^ and we had a whole disagreeable day 
 of tacking up against it. Next morning, however, we 
 found ourselves at anchor near the mole where we land- 
 ed. In the evenmg, we dined with Mr. Hill, the British 
 minister and on this occasion, Byron and his companion 
 
 * 
 
 1 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 81 
 
 dreaaed themselves as aides-de-camp, which to me was a mys- 
 tery and a marvel, as neither the one nor the other belonged 
 to the army ; and I must say it was a finery that did not 
 augment the sense of either ui my estimation. 
 
 After dinner we all went to tlie theatre, which was bril- 
 liantly illuminated on account of some court festival. The 
 royal family were present, and the opera was performed 
 with more taste than might have been expected in so remote 
 a place, and under the restrictions which rendered the inter- 
 course with the continent then so difficult. 
 
 When the performance was over, Mr. Hill came down with 
 Lord Byron to the upper gate of the town, wliere, as we 
 were taking leave, his lordship thanked him with more el- 
 ocution than was precisely requisite, indeed it was something 
 in your "harlotry playeis'" style, and the formality amused 
 Hobhouse, as well as others. Byron, who really fancied that 
 he had acquitted himself with grace, and dignity, and ore ro- 
 tundo, took the banter of his friand amiss, and became pe- 
 tulent; but Hobhouse walked on: while his lordship on ac- 
 count of his lameness and the roughness of the pavement, 
 took hold of my arm, appealing to me if he could have tsaid 
 less after the hospitable treatment we had received. — Of 
 course, though I thought pretty much as Mr. Hobhouse did 
 I could not do otherwise than laud his elocution, especially 
 as his lordship's comfort seemed in some degree dependent 
 on being confirmed in his good opinion of himself. From that 
 time, I was more distinguished by his familiarity, but his un-^ 
 certain temper, which our residence on shipboard together 
 made apparent, rendered his favour precarious, and not 
 worth the trouble of a man, who had any respect for himselfjt 
 cultivating.* 
 
 * The occasion seems to be appropriate for introducing the remarks made on 
 tiic noble poet, by Mr. Gait, in bis Life of Lord Byron,— at the lime hercre« 
 (ierred lo. 
 
 Editor. 
 
 '' Byron was, during the passage, in delicate health,and upon an abstemious 
 regimen. He rarely tasted wine, nor more than half a glass, mingled with 
 water, when he did. He ate little ; no animal food, but only bread and veget. 
 dtilet. ^6 reminded ^meof the gowl that picked rice with a needle ; for it 
 
 :*« 
 
83 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Having landed the mail for Sicily at Girijonti, we stretched 
 over to Malta, where we arrived about noon next day. All 
 
 wan iiiniilft!8t, thnt lie li.'ul not ncqiiired bis knowlril^'e nf the world by al- 
 ways dining »(• .-piurly If my renicnibriinco is not trtaclieroiis, he only 
 spent one itvenliiK ill l\u' cnliiii \xitli lis — llieeveiiinK lieCore we cuinc tu anchor 
 at CuRlliiri ; lor, when the liglii^ were placed, he made himself a man forbid, 
 took lii:4Htniion on llie railing between the pt'KH on which the tlieetti are bfi- 
 layoil and the HliroiuN, and there, for lioiirH, nat iiiHilciice, eiiumoiired, it may 
 he, ofthemoiiii. /Ml these peculiniiiio, wi;h IiIh caprie.et*, and HoiaethinK 
 inexpliculile in the ( ai-t of hin ineiaphyRU s, while they tiervi^d to awaken 
 intetei>t, coiiinbutid liitle to ciinciliaie eHicein. lie wa8 often Htrangely rapt*- 
 it may have bein I'loin iiis (fi'iiiiis ; and liiid it!<i {irundt ur and darkiieHti been 
 then divulued, Hiiriceplible of cvplanalion : but, at tliu lime, it threw, as it 
 were, around liiiii tlie h^k ki Imli of pt nitenre. Bitting amidi^t the nliroiids and 
 rattliiiuH, in iIk' iriini|iiillity ni'ihc iiiooii jiulit, chiirmiiiK an Inarticulate melo- 
 dy, he »ieemi'd alnioBi appatiiioiial, HU):ue>tiiig dim reminiiteeiiceHof him wiio 
 nliHi the albutros. lie was aa a mystery In a winding-sheet crowned with a 
 halo. 
 
 The Infliicnre of ihe iiicompreliciisil'le phnntnaina which hovered about 
 Lord Hyron, has bc( II iiKire or less fell by all who ever approached him.— 
 That he Bometiniet: came mit of the cloud, and wuh familiar and earthly ,18 true; 
 but his dwellini; was amidst the murk and the mist, and the home of his 
 fipirit in the nbysm of the siorm, and the liidiiii! {ilnceH of puill. He wa8,at 
 the time of whirh I um speaUiiiij, scatci ly two and twenty, and could claiRi 
 no higher praise than havin<» wriiien a clever wordly minded satire ; and yet 
 It was impoBsible; even tlu'ii. to reflect on the liias of \na mind, as it waa re- 
 vealed by tliecasiialiiies()f( onversaiion, without experiencing a presentiment 
 that he was destined to execute some singular and ominious purpose. The 
 description lie has given of Manfred in Ills youth, waa of himself. 
 My spirit walk'd not with the souls of men. 
 Kor look'd upon the earth with human eyea; 
 The thirst of their ambition was not mine ; 
 The aim of their existence was not mine. 
 My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers, 
 Made ine a stranger. Tliough Twote the lorm, 
 1 had no sympathy with breathing flesh' 
 My joy was in the wilderness— to breathe 
 The difficult air of the iced mountain's top, 
 Whers the birds dare not build, nor insect's wing 
 Flit o'er the herdless granite ! or to plunge 
 Into the torrent, and to roll along 
 
 On the swift whirl of the new breaking wave « 
 
 Of river, stream, or ocean in their flow- 
 In these my early strength exulted ; or 
 To follow through the night the moving moon. 
 The stars, and their development ; or catch 
 The dazzling hghtnings till my eyes grew dim ; 
 Or to look listening on the scatter'd leaves 
 While autumn winds were at their evening song. 
 These were my pastimes — and to be alone. 
 For if the beings, of whom I was one — . 
 Hating to be so — cross'd me in my path. 
 I felt myself degraded back to them. 
 And waa all clay again." 
 
JOHN CULT. 
 
 the passengers except Orestes and Pylades, being eager to 
 land, went on shore with the captain. Byron let out the se- 
 cret of staying behind to mo, an expected salute from the 
 batteries, and sent nshoro notice to Sir Alexander Ball, the 
 governor, of his avotiir, but the guns evinced no respect 
 of persons, so that the two magnates wore obliged to slip 
 into the town at the heel of the evening, unnoticed and un- 
 known. To Mr. Chabot, amongst others, I had letters, and 
 he invited me to dinner along with other friends previously 
 engaged. 
 
 In the cool of the evening as wo were sitting at our 
 wine, Lord Byron and Mr. Hobhouse were announced. His 
 lordships' appearance as lie entered the room showed that 
 they had met with some adventure, and he chuckled with 
 an inward sense of enjoyment, as his companion recounted, 
 with as much becoming gravity as he has since brought for- 
 ward the army estimates, their woes and sufferings, as an 
 apology for begging a bed and a morsel. God forgive me, but 
 I partook of Byron's levity at the idea of such consequential 
 personages wandering destitute in the streets, seeking for 
 lodgings from door to door, and rejected by all ! 
 
 While the packet went forward to Messina, I remained at 
 Malta. In my voyages and travels, I have given a description 
 of what appeared to me the most interesting things in the 
 island, but it would seem I met with nothing there very 
 particularly attractive, except indeed, the hospitality of the 
 gentlemen to whom I was introduced. I have never been in 
 any town wheie such a voluntary spirit of kindness exercised 
 itself, except in Quebec. 
 
 But although it is rather an abrupt deviation, the name of 
 Byron will procure pardon for what I have to add before con- 
 cluding this chapter. 
 
 It will be recollected, that at this period, it is not quite 
 ascertained that he had begun the composition of Childe Har- 
 old, and therefore, every account of him prior to that event 
 must be interesting. Though he had something of the wild 
 

 84 
 
 THE AUTOmOORAPHV OF 
 
 and strange of genius about him, he did not loom very large 
 to my imagination ; at the same time, it appears that he in- 
 terested it, for I endeavoured to give a character of him, whick 
 has been since oflen published ; namely : 
 
 FPIGRAM. 
 
 With titif!, wealth, and genius blest, 
 The noble Byron knows no rest ; 
 From chme to clime, he flies in vain, * 
 
 Nor finds a refuge from his pain. 
 Is love, rejected love the cause, 
 Perfidious frieudship, or the laws ? 
 Or does the moon controul his blood 1 
 Ah no, What then ? His book's reviewed. 
 
 I t 
 
JOHN 0.%LT. 
 
 ^T^l 
 
 |v- 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Statittical account of Sicily. Visits to Mr. Fagan. Study 
 of Antiquities, Refused pemiinhn to go to Ronu}. An 
 eclogue, f^' 
 
 At Malta 1 staid till the retarn of the packet from Messinaj 
 and went over with her to Girgenti in Sicily, not, how- 
 ever, again so well. Afterwards, when the debilitating hot 
 weather was mitigated, I .nadetlie tour of the island, and in 
 the course of the journey collected mrtteriak for a statistical 
 account. The account of the productions at the end of my 
 voyages and travels is chiefly composed from that inquiry, im- 
 proved, however, from a more minute survey, procured by the 
 late Mr. Holland, a partner of the Barings, who at a consid- 
 erable exjiense, sent a person to make the same investigation. 
 Mr. Holland lent me the manuscript, but the result was neith- 
 er satisfactory to him nor tq me, for although the document 
 was ditiwn up with great care, and was then, if not now, a 
 very curious and important compilation, and such as exists of 
 few countries, it has never been once noticed. I afterwards 
 made a similar collection of the products of the Morea, but 
 it was not so satisfiictory. 
 
 A remarkable incident concerning the former paper should 
 be mentioned. Many years after, my freind Mr. Stevenson, the 
 brother-in-law of Mr. Holland, compiled a work about voy- 
 ages and travels, I forget the name of it, but I expected he 
 would have noticed the Statistical Account of Sicily, not 
 because it was mine, but because it was truly valuable. But 
 he said nothmg of it : not, however, being a man of practical 
 ideas, although I noticed to him the omission it did not sur- 
 prise me, for I had long before observed that bookidi men are not 
 very good apprisers of facts; they have no adequate con- 
 ception of the cost and care which such compilations require. 
 
 H 
 
 ai 
 
'? 
 
 Ifrnmnmim 
 
 86 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPnY OF 
 
 ; 
 
 During the time 1 remained in Sicily my health was re- 
 stored, and with it my love of enterprise. 
 
 At Palermo I went often to Mr. Fagan, the consul-general, 
 and sat with hun while he painted, for he was by profes- 
 sion an artist.— In the conversations with him I acquired some 
 of those maxims as fhey may be called, of the Roman scaf- 
 tiers, or antiquaries, whiftfa may be traced in my works, but it 
 was more of the rules than actual knowledge; that is, I could 
 judge better on paper respecting the principles learnt from 
 him than by examining the objects themselves ; for although 
 he had a few giblets of antiquity — to feet and hands of an- 
 cient statues— he had not very many. I remember in what 
 manner my instruction in this rare and curious lore happened 
 to commence. ^ 
 
 One day I remarked a colossal marble foot in his room. It 
 was very beautiful and very large. I noticed it, saying that 
 ii seemed to be the relic of some gigantic Venus. " Oh, no," 
 said he, " it is the foot of Juno. I found it among the ruins 
 of Agrigentum, and my opinion is, that it belonged to the 
 statue that was anciently famous there." 
 
 " But how do you know," I inquired, " that it is the foot 
 of Juno?" 
 
 He smiled and replied, " Because,*' said he, " the ancients 
 never changed tlie characteristics of their deities ; those of 
 Juno, for example, were as well known as those ot tlie Ma- 
 donna are to the modem Romans, and they carried the rule 
 so far as to impress the peculiarities on every part." 
 
 He then explained to me, by shewing the signs by which 
 he knew the foot belonged to Juno, and from less to more I 
 was induced to make a study of the subject, till I could talk 
 as learnedly about gods and goddesses as an Oxford or Cam- 
 bridge professor, who may know their names in Greek or 
 Latin ; but, as I have confessed, I really nevei acquired 
 much practical knowledge on the subject It thus, in his ve- 
 ry simple manner, came to pass» that I learnt a very ab- 
 struse and recondite kind of knowledge, at the feet of a 
 Gamaliel. 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 87 
 
 Mr. Fagan advised me to go to Rome, and gave letters, 
 with which I went afterwards to Messina, and solicited 
 permission of the British commander to let me go across the 
 straits to Reggio, but he would not grant leave. This was 
 Sir John Stewart, Count Maida. 
 
 In my journey over the island, the naif humour of the 
 Sicilian peasantry exceedingly amused me, and an adventure at 
 Cape Bassero gave rise to the following eclogue, which, 
 though it has little poetical merit, I have' ever thought a true 
 description of a race who are, if not humourous themselves, 
 the cause of it in others : — 
 
 ?' 
 
 THE SPANISH DOLLAR. 
 
 Rehold a street in a Sicilian town, 
 
 Which aiiil retains some name nf old renown. 
 
 Tiiat red letica near yon portal placed, 
 
 Deiiotfis the arrival of a stranger guest ; 
 
 But lit ! tile aetors, peasants they nppr;ar, 
 
 fliar what they say, and reverence what you hear. 
 
 "■ The solar hlaze, my friend Antonio, quit, 
 And in (he shadow of thischapel sit, 
 Hi ar on my kuce^ lay thy unwashen face. 
 While through thy tang'ed locks I raise the chase ; 
 Thine be ilie revtrit-s of the diowsy joy, 
 A i.'d uiiiie the bliss nf seeking to destroy." 
 
 '' Ail Luilovico ! other thotighteexci'e 
 My eager scratching than that dear delight. 
 All English traveller has arrived to-day. 
 And how to serve him all my wits essay. 
 Three pricr s for our vile Sicilian trash 
 Th« Iiigleses pay, and never grudge the cash; 
 And this mi lord hns given .oh best of men ! * 
 
 That Spanish dollar for my leanest hen. 
 The hen my wife, with salt and fndian spice, 
 In water stewp. but what should be the price 
 With deep pi3rplexity confounds my brain— 
 Oh, virgin mother : ease my doubt and pain; 
 For well you know, if I too much reqnire. 
 For cooking, dishes, pepper, salt, and fire, 
 (The thought appals my very heart with dread,) 
 The unruly Englishman will break my head, 
 And if but what he fk-ee!y pays, the loss 
 Till chance repair it, every joy will cross." 
 

 f^ 
 
 TUB AVTOBfOQRAPlIY OF 
 
 *'Tbe eaae, Antonio, iiiomewbat new, 
 But let ud take it in a double view. 
 What ! salt and spice, and Are and wife to cook,— 
 'Forhalf a dollar, friend, you well ia:iy look." 
 ' But half a dollar, Ludovico, oh !" 
 
 *' Nay, good Antonio, I aaid not no ; 
 Hear but my counvel, and you yet may own, 
 Two dollaismore, and still pre.'^rve your crown. 
 In numerous pans, as lawyers charges frame, 
 Divide the costs, and still before hand claim ; 
 The small half dollar ne er will breed a strife. 
 For pepper, salt, and fire, and work of wife; 
 Therefore: re>erve it for the last demand, 
 And humbl ask it with a beggar's hand." 
 
 •' Dear Ludovico, so I mean to do; 
 But how shall 1 obtain the other two?" 
 
 *' Aye, there, Antonio, there the puzzle lids, 
 And plain it is that ne'er the shining prize 
 You by your own unaided wits could reach ; 
 But let me share and I the urt will teach. 
 Give me the dollar in your hand for fee, 
 And I will teach you how to gain still three.*' 
 
 " Three, Ludovico ! be the silver thine. 
 Oh ! that I could exchange thy brains for mine." 
 
 *' Well, first, you know, the English must have wine ; 
 To purchase that, a dollar baldly ask, 
 And fill a bottle from the huxtet's cask ; 
 Which, new and weak, no Englishman will taste, 
 Bo in the cask it may he all replaced. 
 Meanwhile your wife, with Ekilfui hand may make 
 The stew such as no Englishman can take ; 
 And other fare you must of course provide ; 
 For eggs and bread he may be safely tried 
 A full half dollar, and for fruit you know. 
 Another ask ; — why there you see are two ; 
 And for the third you need not fear to try 
 If he antiquities or toys will buy. 
 A worn tarri to sell, as v/ondrous rare ; 
 A Funic coin — nay, but the thing is fair ; 
 For our Sicilia was a Punic isle, 
 And rare that coin is the reward of toil." 
 
 " Ah, reprobates !" exclaimed a voice behind, 
 Agliast they turn, and see with ear inclined, 
 A full fed monk look slily from within. 
 All he had heard, and thus reproved their sin : 
 " Ah, reprobates ! to me thai dollar give, 
 Such knaves as you are hardly fit to live. 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 How now, Antonio, to cbeat so willing, 
 Your fkmithed hen is not wortli half a shilling. 
 Go, Ludovico, sinner as thou art, 
 How durst tbon counsels such as these impart ? 
 Go instantly, this shocking sin to mend. 
 With your best tales the Eii^glish lord attend ; 
 For true it is, withouf his nation's aid. 
 Our holy church'would drive a losing trade." 
 The peasants yield and slink away ; the priest 
 Seeks the refectory and savory feast. 
 
 89 
 
 H 2 
 
90 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER m. 
 
 An English banquet in Palermo. Character of the Sicilians. 
 Santa Stephana. .4n hospitable archbishop. Remark of 
 his Grace. His establishment. A prison for convicts. — 
 Crossed from Sicily to Malta in an open boat. 
 
 Some things were omitted in my travels which would have 
 added to the interest of the book ; but at the time of the publi- 
 cation I entertained great deference for the opinion of friends, 
 to whom 1 beheld others obsequious. By their advice, every 
 incident of a personal nature, which did not relate to public 
 characters, was suppressed. But in this work I am not so 
 squeamish ; both, in the first place, because^l am myself the 
 hero of the story ; and in the second, conscious of the offensive 
 odour of egotism which must pervade it, I cannot refrain from 
 raising myself towards the level of others by noticing different 
 incidents which interested me, and have an importance be- 
 longing to themselves. 
 
 While resident in Palermo, I was invited to dine in the 
 country, and was given to understand that the banquet would 
 be served entirely in the English manner. It was a grand 
 occasion ; and besides two princesses, there were " dukes and 
 sic like fules" at the table. The day was very warm, and the 
 ladies became thirsty ; the punch was dcliciously cool and 
 refiesliing ; but my English notions were not entirely prepared 
 for the result, and I saw with equal astonishment and diver- 
 sion, that the ladies partook of the iced beverage until their 
 eyes were bleezy ; but I do not mean by saying this, that the 
 excess, to which the heat of the day was contributory, was at 
 all in breach of decorum. 
 
 During the time I was in Sicily, I had not much opportuni- 
 ty of observing the manners of the Sicilians ; but what I did 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 n 
 
 see impressed me with a lively idea of the simplicity of their 
 hearts, and I am still inclined to think them an agreeable 
 people. 
 
 In going from Palermo to Messina the waters were out, and 
 the fumeras, or occasional torrents, often raging rivers, in 
 some instances so vehement as to be unfordable ; which obliged 
 us to rest till they had exhausted their fiiry, just as one 
 is obliged to wait with a woman in a passion, till her volubili- 
 ty is spent, before persuasion can be applied to her with effect, 
 either in the shape of rhyme or reason. In this state was the 
 stream at Santo Stephano, and which obliged us in the even- 
 ing to go up to the town, that bore in some points a resem- 
 blance to the most orthodox descriptions of Jerusalem, namely 
 in being situated on a liill, walled round with walls, and 
 " compactly built together." 
 
 The day had been wet ; but the sun set with a clear fece, 
 and tlie landscape glistened with a watery sheen, insomuch 
 that as we approached the gate, we beheld, seated on the out- 
 side, a number of elderly persons inhaling the country air, and 
 among them sable things, that on nearer inspection proved nei- 
 ther crows nor cormorants, but the archbishop and his house- 
 hold clergy. Seeing us ride up the hill, his grace met us on 
 the brow, and in a very Dr. Parrish manner welcomed us, and 
 told us we must expect very poor accommodation in the inn, 
 or locanda, of the place. However, having a very British re- 
 verence for one of his Grace's rank, and having done my hom- 
 age, I rode forward alone ; when my companions joined me, 
 they mentioned that they had accepted the archbishop's invita- 
 tion, to stay for the night at the palace, one of them having a 
 letter for his grace. It is but doing justice to his hospitality, 
 to mention, that the invitation was given before that circum- 
 stance was recollected. 
 
 Having left our horses, &,c., at the inn, we went to the arch- 
 iepiscopal abode, and having dressed ourselves for the evening 
 joined his grace in a well furnished ecclesiastical looking 
 drawing-room, not very large. Soon after an early supper 
 
9S 
 
 THE AVTOBIOOnAPHY OF 
 
 was announced, tbe cooking of which was excellent, and did 
 credit to the rosy glistening countenance of our host. I wonder 
 how a bishop with us would entertain a set of hungry Italians. 
 The incident, however, was not so remarkable on this ac- 
 count, as affording a specimen of that idiomatic difference of 
 manners between the Sicilians and the English which has not 
 been sufficiently described, and which is at least as dissimilar 
 as their national features. I have oflen intended to write a 
 novel illustrative of this subject. 
 
 The only thing I recollect of the conversation was a remark 
 that fell from the archbishop. In speaking of the difference 
 between the churches of England and Rome, he said it was 
 only an " etiquette." His surname had a very Protestant . 
 sound ; it was Sergeant. 
 
 The " gorgeous eastern harlot" was not very audacious in 
 his house ; not more than four or five footmen, and these were 
 occasional assistants at an olive mill, which I saw in one of 
 the outhouses in going poking about early in the morning. 
 
 Before entering upon my subsequent adventures after leav- 
 ing Sicily, I ought to mention an incident, on which I have 
 not yet drawn in any fiction, but which I may hereafter have 
 occasion to do ; for I am convinced that it is not in characters 
 only, but in all things, that an author should have natural 
 .models before him. 
 
 While detained at Cape Passero by contrary winds, in going 
 to Malta, I visited a prison for convicts, situated on a small ' 
 island — 
 
 " a tower laved by Uie salt sea waves, 
 VVitliiri whose tiorizonno sail appear?, 
 Save the black ferry boat, in cuininpr calnif. 
 Or ship wrecked vessel in* winter's morn, 
 With her dead crew all clinging to the masts." 
 
 It was alone place; the island was rocky, and the country ; 
 round the cape, though there is a little town near it, bleak and 
 forbidding, in unison with the profitless purpose of the prison, 
 a square building, with ten or twelve cannon mounted on the 
 battlements. The entrance admits only one person at a time, 
 
 jp » *— " ■'■; 
 
JOHN OALt. 
 
 08 
 
 and the inmates are doomed to perpetual imprisonment.— 
 When 1 was there they did not appear to have any set task 
 and it is no exaggeration to say, they were all such saracen* 
 headed fellows, that it was not pleasant to look at them. 
 
 On enquiring at an old woman who was spinning from a 
 distafi for the keeper, she shewed mo into a neat apartment, 
 and presently a pretty young lady came from an inner room 
 and informed me that her father would immediately attend. 
 In a moment after her sister entered. Their appearance was 
 unlike the scene around. They were dressed in dark brown 
 calico, trimmed with narrow green ribband, in a style of 
 gentility almost fashionable. The captain, their father, soon 
 after entered. 
 
 Telling him the fact of my detention and want of amuse- 
 ment, he immediately look me into an inner chamber. In a 
 little graied window two flower pots were placed, and the 
 furniture was neatly arranged ; but this unexpected appearance 
 of comfort was soon changed to a far other feeling than that 
 of pleasure. — On a bed lay the mother, his wife, dying ; and 
 behind her a little boy, who had taken refuge there at my ap- 
 proach. The captain said she had been a delicate woman, 
 and their disconsolate situation had brought on her disease. 
 
 He then conducted me to the roof of the building, and but 
 for the shock received below, I would have been amused With 
 him ; for he was a little, gabby man, and taking me by the 
 arm, strutted with long strides, like a pair of compasses, to 
 and fro on the leads of the building, and his tongue never lay. 
 
 I have since seen the state prison at Auburn, New York, 
 and our Penitentiary at Millbank, but the Sicilian is the 
 worst possible, notwithstanding that the government might 
 be supposed to be more enlightened on prison discipline than 
 either the American or the British. Indeed, I have something 
 like pride in stating my persuasion, that the Penitentiary of 
 Millbank is on the most philosophical principle of the three. 
 I was astonished, indeed, to observe in the land of Franklin, 
 tiiat criminals, for reformation, were allowed to work in sight 
 
94 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of each other ; silence, though, they were obliged to main- 
 tain. But this is a digression; only I may here mention a cu- 
 rious fact which has not been noticed, namely, that women do 
 not at all bear solitary confinement so well as men, and that the 
 sexual difference requires a different treatment; they "peak 
 and pine" when confined alone. 
 
 It was about Christmas that I left Sicily for Malta, in an 
 open boat The distance is greater than the width of the 
 channel between England and Ireland; but it never once 
 occurred to me that to attempt such a passage in the depth 
 of winter was an enterprise, until luckily I was safe on the 
 marina of Valctta. 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 95 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Take pasmge for Spezzia. A storm. Anchor at Valonn. 
 Albanians. A puppy Turk. TJte Secretary's salary^ 
 An adventure. 
 
 On my arrival at Malta I took my passage in a vessel to the 
 island of Spezzia with the intention of passing over to Crete. 
 She was a very fine polacca, and besides arms and thirty-six 
 men, had a madonna in the cabin with alamp constantly burn- 
 ing before her, so that we were very efficiently protected. But 
 soon after we left the island, a storm arose in which I received 
 no consolation in reflecting that Ulysses and yEneas had en- 
 countered similar tempests in the same sea, and that even St. 
 Paul had fared no better. The violence of the wind increased 
 to such a degree, that we were obliged to run up the Adriatic, 
 and to anchor in the harbour of Valona opposite on the Greek 
 side to Cape Otranto, the castle of which is the scene of 
 Horace Walpole's Mother Bimche's fairy tale. 
 
 The town of Valona is a wretched place, but I was interested 
 in the appearance of a number of Albanian soldiers whom I 
 saw for the first time. 
 
 Their dress seemed handsome and becoming consisting of a 
 loose cloak made of brown shaggy woollen cloth, and an em- 
 broidered waistcoat : they wear their shirts on the outside 
 of their drawers, somewhat in the style of a Highland philli- 
 beg. Few wear turbans, but cover the top of the head with 
 a little red cap, decorated with a tassel, which reminded me 
 of the nipple of a Highlander's bonnet; they had all sashes 
 and a leathern belt, in which were stuck two large pistols 
 and a sword. The belts were fastened with silver clasps 
 broader than a dollar, and many wore ornaments resembling 
 
THE AUTOBIUORAPIIY OF 
 
 I '^ 
 
 cymbals, at their knees and ancles. One of them had on his 
 vest a double row of nondescripts, which must be called but- 
 tons ; they were, however, as large as lomuns, of the same 
 shape, and made of silver wire neatly interwoven.. 
 
 In this remote place I acquired by accident some informa- 
 tion which I have ever deemed at least curious. Having land- 
 ed to see the town of Valona, a puppy Turk not more than 
 sixteen, who had apparently just assumed the manly pistol, 
 followed me and began to talk very pompously. To get rid 
 of his impertinence I quickened my pace, but he only became 
 more obstreperous and presented his pistol at my head. — It 
 seems that two women under the protection of this youth hap- 
 pened to be in the street, and ho thought I was hurrying tow- 
 ards them. Next morning the secretary of the Pasha came 
 on board and inquired about this adventure, for the rumour o^ 
 the affair had reoched the ears of his Highness with all due 
 exaggeration ; however, I made light of it as it was over, and 
 nothing further took place. 
 
 The secretary in the course of conversation mentioned that 
 his name was Nicolo Papalazarus, and informed me that it was 
 a general custom in that part of Greece for children to add to 
 their baptismal name, a surname formed by combining the pro- 
 fession with the Christian name of their father. The name 
 of his father was Lazarus, who being a priest, Nicolo was call- 
 ed Papalazarus, the son ot Lazarus the priest. A matter of 
 this kind is not important, but the custom seemed more ra- 
 tional than the method of individualizing which prevails 
 among us. 
 
 He also mentioned that he received no pay for his service, 
 but had a small district allowed to him out of the rental of 
 which he paid the Pasha a certain sum, the remainder was 
 his own. This mode of reimbursing service he told me was 
 the ordinary practice under the Ottoman government; fiefe 
 there had not yet become hereditary. The practice according 
 to my conception probably existed before the introduction of 
 the feudal system into the West ot Europe, for according to 
 what he said, military service was not required. It is to this 
 
JOHN 04LT. 
 
 State of thin^that the radicals are drivings, and every oppor- 
 tunity should be taken to inculcate the great truth that with- 
 out permanency being secuful . o property and the power to 
 increase it cuut'^nod to individuals, there is no likelihood of 
 rendering human atfflirs progressive. 
 
 Remote and scquesterf "1 aa the situation of Valona is, it ap- 
 pears to have been a spot destined to afford me curious infor- 
 mation. In the afternoon the wind being calm, I went to a 
 pastoral village on the shore, and leaving the boat walked 
 unaccompanied towards the hills. I had not advanced, how- 
 ever, above half a mile, when an old Turk, who appeared to 
 be the precursor of a band of fifty or sixty in number, ad- 
 dressed me. My first sensation was not pleasant, but in go- 
 ing towards him I saw there was no occasion to be under 
 :iny apprehension : he could speak the lingua Franca, 
 which renders Italian so useful in every part of the Mediter- 
 ranean, and his purpose was to caution me from going alone, 
 as the people of the country were bad and lawless. In the 
 course of a few minutes the band surrounded us, and a yonng 
 man who appeared to be the leader inquired how I came 
 there alone. I pointed to the boat and vessel, and he civilly 
 went away, but an old man whom I had observed eying 
 ine very [particularly, the moment that his oflicer had passed 
 on, pulled a purse from his bosom, and pointing to the silk 
 handkerchief round my neck,oftered to buy it. Not, however, 
 being prepared to deal with him, but having another in my 
 pocket, I presented it, and he took his leave highly contented; 
 while this was transacting, a wag stole behind me, and ga? e 
 a wild disorderly bellow like a turkey cock, no doubt to 
 frighten me ; he then made a great many ludicrous bows and 
 grimaces as if in mockery of our modes of asking pardon for 
 unintentional offences : an effort of humour much relished by 
 his companions. 
 
 This trivial incident has ever since had an important influ- 
 ence on me, and if it did not inspire me with a resolution to 
 treat mankind with confidence ever afler, it made me sensible 
 
09 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 that it was at least the eafest way to do so. Children, dogs, 
 and savage men are all physiognomists, and flattered by be- 
 ing trusted. From that day 1 never had occasion to call in 
 question the propriety of acting with sincerity and frankness 
 towards the greatest and the wildest strangers — or if there 
 ever was need to be on my guard, it was not with those who 
 obeyed their impulses more than their reason. I am, how- 
 ever, almost persuaded in this as in many things, that the 
 quality of this confidence is of a constitutional nature, and 
 cannot be adopted by any volition, for I have remarked the 
 same conduct in two of my children. They had not been in 
 the forests of Canada many hours when they went fearless- 
 ly sporting with two Indians with whom they could not ex- 
 change words, and remained in the wild wood unseen, and, 
 let me add, without exciting any alarm. The eldest boy 
 was not above twelve years of age. The only wonder was 
 how they made themselves intelligible to the Indians. Had 
 they been accustomed to tlie country the surprise had been 
 less, but they were fresh from an English school and none in- 
 ured to the taciturnity and habits of the Indians. 
 
 From Valona we sailed, when a liglit breeze sprang up, for 
 the island of Zante, where I landed, tired of being cooped 
 up so long OH board the St Nicola, good ship though she was ; 
 and having a long walk to the city, I only took with me a 
 small portmanteau which my servant could carry, sending 
 our other luggage on with the vessel to Spezzia, being as- 
 sured I could easily get it brought to Athens. 
 
 The weather was delightful, and the view of Zante from 
 the summit of a small island on which I first landed was 
 beautiful and inviting The islet itself was rendered inter- 
 ting by the romantic circumstance of being inhabited by two 
 old hermits. One of them was sitting on the rocks in the 
 apostolical ccupation of fishing, the other was walking on th6 
 sandy shore, as I have elsewhere described them ; of their 
 habitation I shall not repeat the description here. I only men- 
 tion it to shew that I have not drawn entirely from the im- 
 agination in my various pictures of anchorites. 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 99 
 
 From the small island 1 went over to Zante and proceeded 
 to the town where I staid several days, and of which I have 
 given what was then an interesting account in my Letters 
 from the Levant ; with a very warm remembrance of the 
 hospitality of General Oswald and of Prince Camuta who must 
 be now long dead. 
 
 From Zante I crossed into Greece and arrived at Patras at 
 midday, when I dined with the imperial consul, respecting 
 whom 1 have no other recollection than that he was a kind 
 and civil old gentleman, with the massiest silver table spoons 
 of an ancient pattern I had ever seen : they were worthy of 
 gracing the board of him of whom Butler speaks — 
 
 " A German prince he grew so fat, " * 
 
 TImt mice, as tiistories relate, 
 
 Ate grotfl and labyrinths to dwell in, 
 
 His posiique parts without him feeling.' 
 
100 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY Of 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ■r> ■.. 
 
 Leave Patras for Corinth. As/iect of the landscape re- 
 sembles the Firth of Clyde seen from Bishopton Hill. 
 From Corinth to Tripolizza. Scheme of counteracting 
 the Berlin and Milan decrees first conceived there. — 
 Meet a descendant the of Paleologi. The history and eX' 
 Unction of the family in England Proceed to Athens, 
 
 After dinner 1 left Patras in a boat hired to take me up 
 the gulf of Corinth, a distance, if I recollect rightly, of nearly 
 one hundred miles. Although many things reminded me 
 that I was really in a foreign country, yet there was a famil- 
 iarity in the aspect of the landscape, particularly from the 
 shore at Corinth, as if I had seen it " in another and a better 
 world." The mountains were more stupendous, it is true, par- 
 ticularly Parnassus, than any-, except Etna, I could have ever 
 seen, and the purity of the atmosphere made every object un- 
 commonly distinct. It reminded me, though on a much larger 
 scale, of the view of the Firth of Clyde from Bishopton Hill ; 
 at the time, however, it was not so recollected, but when I 
 afterwards returned, the similarity greatly struck me on see- 
 ing again that view. 
 
 From Corinth I went to Argos ; the country was lone and 
 desolate till I came within a short distance of the ruins of 
 Mycenee, when one of the most gorgeous spectacles presented 
 itself whicli the setting sun has ever exhibited. Not a breath 
 of wind was stirring ; the mountains around seemed to be in 
 expectation ; and clouds that resembled vast masses of solid 
 fire kindled over the sun and produced an effect which in- 
 spired more of awe than tranquillity. Before mo lay the 
 gulf of Argos, on the western side of which, bold promonto- 
 ries, like the side scenes of a theatre, extended in successive 
 
 I: 
 
JOBM OALT. 
 
 101 
 
 perspective to a great distance ; and on the eastern lay the 
 city of Napoli Romania, with abrupt cliSk near it glittering 
 in glorious magnificence, but the sublime aspect of the heav- 
 ens and the consideration of being in a country where the mor- 
 al change was still greater than the desolation I had all day 
 witnessed, gave a degree of solemnity to my reflections rare- 
 ly experienced ; for at that time no symptom of revivifica- 
 tion, after a long winter, had yet manifested itself on the Gre- 
 cian character, and I entered Argos with a degree of emo- 
 tion which cannot be described. 
 
 As 1 have said something of the journey to Tripolizza in my 
 " Letters from the Levant," it is not requisite here to re- 
 peat my interview with the pasha, especially aa in tlie Life 
 of Byron I took occasion to describe it* 
 
 * The account of llie interview liere referred to, will be new to many ef 
 our readers, and we accordingly transfer it to our pages. — Eoitok, 
 
 " Tlie ceremonies on sucii visits are similar all over Turlcey, anjimg 
 personages of the same rank ; and as Lord Byron has not described in vennj 
 the details of what took place with him, it will not be altogether obtrntiv« 
 heie to recapitulate what happened to myself during a visit to Villii Pa^haw, 
 the son of Ali; lie was then Vizier of the Morea, and re^-iding at Tripolizza. 
 " In the afternoon, about four o'clock, 1 set out for the seraglio with Dr. 
 TeriaBo, tiie vizier's physician, and the vizier's Italian secretary. 'J'hp cale 
 nf the palace was not unlike the entrance to some of the closets in Etliiiburjsh, 
 and the court within reminded me of Smithfield in London ; but it was not «ur- 
 ronaded by such lofty buildinsrs, nor in any degree oF comparisim so well con- 
 stnicted. We ascended a ruinous staircase, which led to an open gallery, 
 where three or four hundred of the vizier's Albanian guards were loungiirjt. 
 In an anti-chamber, which opened from the gallery, a mimber of officers w.ie 
 mnokiiig, and in the middle, ou the floor two old Turks were seriously engnt;>;d 
 at chess 
 
 '• My name being sent in to the vizier, a guard of ceremony was called, iu\il 
 afLcr tliey had arranged tiiemselves in ihe presence-chamber, I was adimud 
 iJlife doctor and the secretary having in thn mean time, taken ofl' their sin >t'j?, 
 accompanied me in,to act as interpreters. " The presence chamber was atioui 
 forty teel square, shi»wy and handsome ; round the walls were pinned sofa.<, 
 which, from being covered with scarlet, reminded me of the wool sacks in lli« 
 House of Lords. In the farthest corner of the room, elevated jon a crimson 
 velvet cushion, sat the vizier, wrapped in a superb pelisse : on his head wa.s a 
 vnM turban, in his belt a dagger, incrusted with jewels, and on the little finder 
 of his right hand he wore a solitaire as large as the knob on the stoppsr of a 
 vinegar cruet, and wliich was said to have cost two thousand five hundred 
 [xmiids sterling. In his lefl hand he held a string of sinall coral beads, a com- 
 bololo'which he twisted backwards and forwards during the greater part of 
 his visit. On the sofa beside him lay apair of richly ornameaied London 
 made pistols. At some distance, on the same sofa, but not on a cushion, sat 
 Hemet, tliePashaw of Napoli Romania,whose son was contracted in marriage 
 u> tJia vizier's daughter. On the floor, at the foot of this pashaw, and opposite 
 to the vizier, a secretary was writing despatches. These were the only persotis 
 in the room who had tlie honour of being seated : for according to the eti- 
 quetti) of this viceregal court, those wlio received the vizicr'd pay were not 
 allowed to sit down in hU presence. 
 
 * 1-2 
 
102 
 
 TUB AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 It was late in the evening when I arrived at Tripolizza, and 
 the occurrence was to myself greatly influential, for it was 
 there that the idea first occurred to me to form, somewhere 
 in the Levant, an establishment to counteract the celebrated 
 Berlin and Milan decrees. The germ of this notion rose to me 
 in reading an Italian newspaper, from Corfu, that I found in 
 the house of Dr. Teriano, the vizier's physician. 
 
 It seemed to me that the scheme was practicable, and that 
 tlie misrule and disorder of Turkey afforded the means of 
 carrying it into effect. The conception was instantaneous, but 
 
 On my entrance, hig Tlijrhnpss motioned fo nio tn sit l)esi(le liim, and tlirougli 
 Ihemrdinniof till' interpreters befian with some coninionpiace cDurlly insignifi* 
 cancies,as a prelude to more interesstini; eonversaiion. In Ills maimers I found 
 liiui free and atlahle, with ac(>nt:ideral>lc tincture of Immour and drellery. — 
 Among otlierqiieslions, lie inijuired if 1 had a wife ; and bciiij! answered in the 
 iKii^ative, he replied to mn himself in Italian, that I was a hapi)y man, for he 
 fonnd his very trouhlesome ; considerinir their probable nnmber, this was not 
 unlikely l'ii)i's and coilie were in the mean time served. Tin; pipe presented 
 to the vizier was at least twelve feet lonj; ; the niduth piece was formed of a 
 6in!;!e block of anibec, about the size of ari ordinary cncundjer, and fastened to 
 tlieshalt by a broad lioop of gold, decoraterl wiili jewels, WJiile the pipes 
 and Cdffi'e were distiibutinc, a musical clock, which stood in a niche, began 
 to piny, and contiiuied doing so until this ceremony was over. The cotlc-e was 
 literally a drop of dregs in a veiy small china cup, placed in a goldifn socket. 
 His Highness was served with hiscoftle by Pashaw lJey,Iiis generalissimo, a 
 giant, with the tall crown of a dun coloured beaver liat on his head. In ro- 
 turninii the cup to liim, the vizier elegantly eructated in his face. After the 
 regale of the jjipes and coffee, tiie attendants withdrew, and his Highness be- 
 gan a kind of political discussion, in wiiich, though making use of an inter- 
 preter, he inaiidged to convey his questions with delicacy and address. 
 
 "On my risinu to retire, his Highness informed me, with more polite con- 
 descension than a Christian of a thousandth part of his authority would have 
 done, that during my stay at Tripolizza horses were at my command, and 
 guards who would accompany nie to any part of the country I might cliodso 
 to visit. 
 
 '' Next morning he sent a complimentary message, importing, that he had 
 ordered dinner to be prepared at the doctor's for me and two of his officers — 
 The two officers vvere lively fellows ; one of them in particular seemed to have 
 acquired, by instinct, a larce share of the ease and politeness of Christf^ndom. 
 The dinner surpasse<i all count and reckoning, dish followed dish, till I began 
 to fancy tlini the cook either expected I would honour his Hiuhness's enter- 
 tainment as ("jEsar did the supper of Cicero, or supposed that the party were 
 not finite beings. Dining thi' course of this amazing servi.;e, the principal 
 Pincers and mu!^ici^ns of the seraglio ariived,and siing and played several 
 pieces of very sweet 'J'urkish music. Among others was a song composed by 
 the late u'ifortnnate sultan S«lini, the air of which was pleasint'ly simple and 
 pathetic. 1 had heard of the sultan's poetry before, a small collection of 
 which has been printed. — It is said to he interesting and tender, consisfinj; 
 chiefly of little sonnets, written af^er he was deposed; in which he contrnsta 
 tJie tranquillity of hisretiiement w itii the perils and anxieties of his former 
 grandeur. After the songs, the servants of the oflicers, who vvere Albanians, 
 danced a iMacedonian reel, in which they exhibited several furious specimens 
 of Highland asiiity. The officers then took their leave, and I went to bed 
 equally gratified by the hospitality of the vizier and the incidents uf the en- 
 tertainment 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 103 
 
 its feasibility became more distinct, and at last grew the tio- 
 tive and purpose of my travels in Turkey, increasing in 
 strength by inquiry and knowledge a;3 fire is augmented by 
 stirring and fresh fuel. I resolved however to say nothing 
 till the idea was matured by actual observation, for the scheme 
 was so great as to seem wild, and so improbable in execution 
 as to require the evidence of facts. But I again fell into in- 
 disposition by which my movements were impeded, and I was 
 in consequence obliged to be more as a mere traveller than 
 was consistent with the energy and scope of undertaking so 
 great an enterprise. The plan, however, gradually filled 
 my mind till it occupied it exclusively, and I built castles in 
 the air of the most gorgeous description, with a fame on the 
 pediment blazoning with her trumpet. - ., 
 
 I stayed two doys at Tripolizza, and among otlier great men 
 to whom I was indebted for attention, was an extremely res- 
 pectable-looking old gentleman, the primate of the Morea; 
 he claiinoil to be descended from the Paleologi, and very prob- 
 ably wa?, at least his rank in the government lent colouring 
 to his claim. It has since occurred to me as somethinsr extra- 
 ordinary, that in the resuscitation of Greece no attempt has 
 been made to recall the ancient imperial line ; but * re is 
 a secret in all things, the head-quarters of the Hoetoria are in 
 Munich, and I am sure I do no injustice in ascribing to their 
 machinations the appointment of the boy Otho to be king of 
 the Greeks. The present king of Bavaria, when prince royal, 
 was himself a member of the Hcetoria.* 
 
 It is not generally known that the last of the line of the 
 Paleologi died in England. I sketched a tale once on this 
 subject by supposing one of them to have been the execution- 
 er, in mask, of Charles the First, whom I represented as hav- 
 ing'inspired him with vindictive feelings by insolently treating 
 the fallen fortunes of his house. The manuscript of the tale 
 
 * A brotherhood or Society of Frirnd?, the momhprs of which in different 
 parts of Europe, at first simply confined th«Mr intentions and, labours to edu- 
 catint; the infirm Greek clergy and the jieople of Greece, by means of schoo^9 
 and ditTnsing useful booltp,— afterwards, i!ie Iloetoria became tiie centre and 
 sou! o{ that conspiracy which brnni»luon the Greek revolution, and the sever- 
 ance of Greece from Turliey.— Editor. 
 
104 
 
 THS AtrrOBIOOBAPHT OF 
 
 is preserved, and is derived from the following circumstances. 
 Constantine Paleologus, the last of tlie Greek emperors, 
 had a brother called Tomasio, a soldier of such spirit and bra- 
 very that Mahomet II., in speaking of the Peloponnesus, said 
 he had found many slaves in that country, but only one man, 
 Tomasio. After defending the fortress of Salonica with un- 
 daunted constancy against the conqueror, when all hope of re- 
 lief was abandoned, this prince fled into Italy, where Pope Pi- 
 us IL allowed him a pension till his death. 
 
 He had an only son called John, who accompanied his 
 father into Italy, and afterwards married a noble lady of Pisa, 
 where, aflerthe death of Tomasio, they assumed some of the 
 forms and etiquettes of the ancient imperial court. The off- 
 spring of this marriage was also a son named Theodoro, whp 
 in due course of years also married and became the father of 
 Prospero, the father of Camilio. In the time of Pope Paul V., 
 Camilio rendered himself so obnoxious to the papal court, by 
 adhering to the Greek church, that he was forceed to fly with 
 his son, and what became of them was never ascertained. It 
 was believed that they both perished at sea, and with them 
 the imperial line was extinguished. But at Lindulph, in 
 Cornwall, some light is thrown on this interesting historical 
 fact In the church is a mural monument, ornamented witli 
 an escutcheon of brass, on which were engraved two turrets, 
 with the figure of an eagle with two heads, resting a claw on 
 each turret, the singularity of this armorial bearing to persons 
 acquainted with heraldry is very attractive, and the inscrip- 
 tion is still more remarkable ; as follows. 
 
 u 
 
 Here lyeth the body of Theodoro Paleologus, of Pisanio, 
 in Italye, descended from the Imperyall lyne of the last 
 Christian Emperours of Greece, being the sonne of Camilio, 
 the Sonne of Prospero, the sonne of Theodoro, the sonne of 
 John, the sonne of Thomas, the second brother to Constan- 
 tine Paleologus, the eighth of that name, and last of the lyne 
 that raygned in Constantinople, until subdued by the Turks, 
 who married with Mary, the daughter of Willia ^ Jialls, of 
 Hadlye, in Souflbulke, gent, and had issue five children : — 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 105 
 
 Theodore, John, Ferdinando, Maria, and Dorothy, and departed 
 this life at Clyfton, the 21st of January, 1636." 
 
 In pursuing the hint here suggested, I have ascertained that 
 of the children, Dorothy was married at Lindulph, to William 
 Arnmdle in 1656, and died in 1681 ; Maria was unmarried 
 and buried there in 1674; but of the sons Ferdinand and 
 John, no record is preserved. The name of Theodore would 
 also have perished, but it appears by the parish register 'of 
 Iladleigh, in Suffolk, that his father's marriage took place 
 there on the 27th of May, 1617, and tliere is some reason to 
 believe that he was the first progeny of the union. 
 
 On this curious occurrence, I laid the foundation of my sto- 
 ry, which induces me, as tombstones and parish registers are 
 held to be good evidence, to reject the claim of the primate 
 ot the Morea; it was not, however, polite to dispute it. But 
 it is time to return from this digression to my own story. 
 
 Having received from the Vizier Villii Pasha a particular 
 introduction to the waywode of Athens, I left Tripolizza and 
 went to that city, as recorded in my Letters from the Levant, 
 
 •; ■;r 
 
 a.- "■, 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 H 
 
 106 
 
 TUB AUTOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Athens. Reside at a monastery. Meet again Lord Byron 
 and Mr. Hobhouse. Unprofitable industry. Coincidence. 
 Ode^ suggested by the state of Greece. 
 
 I TOOK up my residence at Athens in the monastery of the 
 Propaganda Fide of Rome, in which there was only one friar, 
 a most respectable person, and a friend of Emanuel, the abdi- 
 cated king of Sardinia. My health as I have already men- 
 tioned, was very variable ; I was again unwell, and every 
 thing was at odds and ends with me. The weather for savo- 
 ral days obliged me to keep the house ; but it happened at 
 this time that Lord Byron and his friend were in Athens, and 
 I was induced, by Mr. Hobhouse calling on me, to renew my 
 acquaintance with his lordship. But for this visit, it is very 
 likely, after so long an interval, I would not again have sought 
 their acquaintance ; for I recollected once hearing Mr. Hob- 
 house say, that unless a superior called upon an inferior it 
 might subject him to a repulse. The world generally thinks 
 differently ; and I believe it is held to be good manners for 
 an inferior to pay his respects to a superior. However, this 
 ia a matter of etiquette to which I do not attach much im- 
 portance. Perhaps it has been a fault with me to pay too little 
 attention to things of that sort. 
 
 During the time I was obliged to confine myself to the mo- 
 nastery I had only literature for pastime, and having a turn for 
 " poem making," I employed myself in that unprofitable in- 
 dustry ; nor was I without a plausible excuse to myself for 
 doing so ; verses were things of small bulk, easily carried 
 about, and if lumber, were not heavy. But what leads me to 
 mention my predilection here is the discovery of the curious 
 coincidence before alluded to. Lord Byron was then engaged 
 
 m 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 107 
 
 ■I 
 
 on the composition of Childe Harold, which he began, it ie 
 said, in Albania, and I was also occupied on a poem of the 
 some structure, the Spenserian measure, a pilgrimage to Pal- 
 estine, containing descriptions of the different scenes which I 
 should myself see; with only this difference from the plan of 
 his lordship's work, that my hero was a kindly tuneful per- 
 sonage, and " the Childe" was, as Byron said himself, " a 
 d d bad character." My poem was called " II Inconsue- 
 to." I have lost the manuscript. 
 
 In mentioning this circumstance, I deprecate the suspicion 
 of being supposed for a moment guilty of thinking there was 
 any thing but the verse and theme which resembled the cel- 
 ebrated " Romanute." The coincidence is very surprising, 
 for I never saw his lordship's production, and though acquain- 
 ted with mine, he was as ignorant of it. 
 
 This is not all : the rape of the temples by Lord Elgin was 
 at that time the theme of every English tongue that came to 
 Athens. While there, I wrote the " Atheniad," a mock epic, 
 in which the gods and goddesses avenge the cause of Minerva. 
 His lordship saw the manuscript. He afterwards published 
 his " Curse of Minerva." But the singular train of similarities 
 does not end here. I was always of opinion, and frequent- 
 ly spoke of it, that another epic could only be a secondary 
 thing; in June, 1810, I expressed this idea in the "Letters 
 from the Levant," which were published in 1813. The pas- 
 sage is, — 
 
 " The literature of the Greeks exalts into virtues those qual- 
 ities which are calculated to make war v Imirable for its own 
 sake, and praises those exploits wiiich, undertaken for pri*- 
 vate motives, are justly held to be great crimes. Do you 
 think if a poem of equal genius to the Iliad had been compi^ 
 sed in its place, and had been as derogatory to the military 
 character as the masterpiece of mankind is the reverse, that 
 martial glory would at this time have been held in so much 
 esteem? I think not. It was a happy thought of Milton, to 
 represent the heathen deities as so many devils, who opposed 
 
108 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 t 
 
 II. -3 
 
 by practical influence the will and pleasure of Heaven. If 
 there can be a new epic poem composed, which shall have 
 charms enough to counteract the spirit of the Iliad, the theme 
 must be something else than war/' Don Juan approximates 
 very nearly to my idea. 
 
 Whatever the reader may think of these coincidences, to 
 me they arc very curious, and show how insensibly minds 
 accidentally coming in contact may affect each other. But I 
 have a still more remarkable instance to adduce, which shall 
 be duly brought forward, respecting Lord Byron, and it is in- 
 dependent of me. But to resume my own narrative. 
 
 Having in another form and in different places given an 
 account of nil that particularly interested me at Athens, it 
 would only enlarge this book to repeat much of what I have 
 said, notwithstanding I consider it as not having attracted 
 quite so much attention as it merited at the time, for it did 
 not then fall within the scope of my design to make myself 
 too prominent. Accordingly, in looking over my Letters from 
 the Levant, 1 find they afford but an inadequate idea of my 
 condition during much of my first visit to Athens. This work 
 is, however, of a different kind, and it may not be improper 
 here to speak more of myselfl ^ t , ■ , ,-;,' 
 
 My health for some time did not improve, and those in- 
 describable sensations which are ever attendant on nervous 
 diseases rendered me often very uncomfortable, in so much 
 that all my projects were suspended ; and I sent my servant 
 in consequence to the island of Spezzia to bring our lug- 
 gage from the Saint Nicole, being disposed to remain at 
 Athens indefinitely. Lord Byron and Mr. Hobhouse departed 
 by the Pylades sloop of war. Captain Ferguson, who offered 
 me also a passage to Smyrna, and who had brought Mr. 
 Galton and Dr. Darwin, a son of the renowned medico-poet, 
 with him, but I was in no humour to resume my travels, even 
 if I had been in possession of my luggage. Scarcely, how- 
 ever, was I left alone, when the weather, which had been 
 bleak and cold, changed, and my indisposition again lessened. 
 
JOHN OAI.T. 
 
 109 
 
 Still I had comparatively little inclination to ^ a abutiad ^ 
 yondthe ruins of the temple of Jupiter Olympu.^, or the A ^e- 
 opagus, and the monument of Philippapus. My reflections 
 at that time and on those places appear to have been compe- 
 tently dull, for among my paper^j are the following verses, in 
 which my ruminations were probably expressed. 
 
 ( ' ODE. 
 
 With leisure, and a pen at hand, 
 Wlio can the muse's will withstand? 
 Who can resist, possessing these, 
 And breathing genius in Greece, 
 To let liis idle fancy piny 
 At numbers and the tinlcling lay? 
 
 II. 
 
 While here I range on classic ground, 
 O'er relics of the long ren(»wn'd, 
 And see the hinda that toil for bread 
 RIest as were e'er the famous dead , 
 As happy with their frugal aim 
 As those that lived and died for fame > 
 
 HI. 
 And whilel wand'ring here inquire, 
 Where the bright sage and i»ard of fire, 
 Who glory ray'd in ancient times, 
 Tiiat still illumines distant climes, 
 Were wont to shed the radiant thought,- 
 And tind them all like hinds forgot ,— 
 
 IV 
 
 The proud, the strong, the daring fiend. 
 That ever tempts me to ascend, 
 Abash'd relaxes, and content, 
 Aslis with some gentle blandishment, 
 What boots the crown or laurel wreath 
 To them that sleep in peaceful death ? 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Elgin marbles. The Atheniad. 
 
 T HAVE now to record a transaction not known hitherto to the 
 public, and little to my friends,in consequence of that tacitur- 
 
 K 
 
110 
 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OV 
 
 K 
 
 R ' 
 
 I ^ / 
 
 nity respecting my transactions which this undertaking obliges 
 me to disregard. 
 
 During the latter part of my stay for the first time at 
 Athens, Signoro Lusieri, the agent of the Earl of Elgin, ship- 
 ped in a (irock vessel part of the marbles wiiich are now 
 the pride of the British Museum. My old acquaintance 
 Mon. Fauvol, the French consul, made much ado to stop such 
 an atrocious robbery, in order that he might afterwards send 
 them into the holy keeping of the Emperor in Paris, and did 
 all he could to frighten the governor, or way wode, from being 
 accessary to the unheard of crime, the mere imagination of 
 which made 
 
 " Each particular htiir toHfnnd on rnd, 
 liiktM|iiillsiipi)ii llic frciful poicuplnc," 
 
 of M. Fauvcl. But Lusicri was his match. 
 
 Lusieri's bills on account of the marbles were not honoured 
 by the carl's agents, nevertheless, he kept his knowledge of 
 the fact to himself and shipped off 
 
 "TJio giblefs of old idolatry." 
 
 But how was the freight to be paid when the ship reached 
 Malta "gave him pause." At the eleventh hour he came to 
 me and disclosed his sad condition. 
 
 The dilemma was trying, and I frankly confess my com- 
 mercial cupidity obtained the ascendancy. Here was a chance 
 of the most exquisite relics of art in the world becoming mine, 
 and a speculation by the sale of them in London that would 
 realize a fortune. The temptation was too great. My corres- 
 pondents at Malta were Messrs. Struthers, Kennedy, and 
 Co., to whom I wrote to pay the bills upon receiving the 
 stones, &c., &.C., and I shipped myself on board the vessels 
 that I might sec her safely to Hydra, where she was to 
 put herself under the protection of a man of war. According- 
 ly that evening we sailed with our precious cargo, and next 
 morning arrived at Hydra, from which the vessel was con- 
 veyed to Malta. But on her arrival there, the agent for the 
 earl paid the bills, and my patriotic cupidity was frustrated. 
 
 It should be confessed that 1 had a suspicion of this coming 
 
 I 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 Ill 
 
 \, 
 
 to pawH» for I could not iinagino the ngents at Malta of Ix)r(l 
 El^iii would refuse the bills after b(Mng in i)08tje88ion of the 
 statue:*. But the transaction nioritod some recognition, which 
 the 11 ;ble earl never made, even thou{,'h I also imhecHUatcd 
 a mock heroic poem on the Rape of the Temples, in which 
 I vva>* myself so guilty of being accesisary in art or part. 
 
 Thi same rape is curious in many particulars. I saw the 
 firniRh on which Lord Elgin cofninenced the dilapidation ot 
 the Temples, and as I did not understand Turkish, the person 
 who read it to me said ii was only to remove a Btonc ; and 
 my Greek servant was op board the ship with the first cargo 
 wrecked on the island of Cytherea, or C^irigo. As for the 
 Atheniad, since the copy for this sheet was sent to the prin- 
 ters, the original manuscript has been found, and in the lan- 
 guage of Goody Two shoes, hero it ia The omissions are, 
 of course, not renewed, though they would probably have 
 made it a riciier treat. But, independent of the subject, it 
 has some particular claim to attention as a poem written at 
 Athens, (the reader may calculate in what Olympiad,) in 
 the monument of Lysicrates, alias the Lantern of Demos- 
 thenes, which, adjoining the monastery, was made use of by 
 me as a study. 
 
 ATHEMAD. 
 
 ii 
 
 Atlienia's wrongs, O heavenly Muse rehearse, 
 
 And-iinji; the gods of Greece in English verse l— 
 
 Atliwnia, fairest of the mural fair, 
 
 Whose fuming altars fed the savoury air, 
 
 Dejected saw beneath th' ojipreseor's sway, 
 
 ller tropiiies perisii and her stones decay. 
 
 No joy she knew, but only grief refined, 
 
 VVljen far come travellers paused or look'd behind. 
 
 Paused to indulge the sigh for glories past. 
 
 Or wandering look'd that stones so long should laat. 
 
 But this sad solace Fate decreed must eease, 
 
 And Mercury fliea to end the pride of Gieece. 
 
 On earth arrived, the form divine obscured, 
 He seems a mortal man to arts inured ; 
 Cadaverous, crafty, skilled in tints and lines, 
 A lean Italian master of designs. , 
 He sought Brucides. and Brucides found, 
 
It 1? 
 
 112 THX AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " O Lord," he cries, " ray Lord for taste renown'd, 
 What fame awaits you, were your Lordstiip.wise, 
 And who that Icnows your Lordship that denies. 
 Th' Athenian temples long deserted stand, 
 Their sculptures tumbling in the Turk's rude hand. 
 Haute, save the relics, bear them to your home, 
 The lights of art for agea yet to come. 
 Grudge not the cost, the marbles, countless price 
 Would buy the profits of rich embassies." 
 
 Fired by the scheme, his wuy Brucidcs took. 
 And public tasks, and trusts of state forsook ; 
 With ready gold he calls men, carts, and cords, 
 Cords, carts, and men, rise at the baited words. 
 The ropes asunder rive tiie wedded stone, 
 The mortals labour, and the axles groan, 
 Hymettus echoes to the tumbling fane, 
 And shook th' Acropolis, — shakes all the plain. 
 
 From high Olympus gazed the gods afar. 
 Indignant gazed that man their wrath should dare. 
 " Fates," they exclaimed, " that guides the course of things. 
 And from whose cave, the streams of action springs, 
 Has justly shown in every age and time. 
 That Retribution sternly follows c:ime. 
 Shall we then tamely see our temples torn. 
 And o'er the seas the Grecian relies t)orne ; 
 ' See that Brucides glorious become, 
 
 Like the bold youth that fired th' Ephesian dome? 
 
 No, by the Styx," with raised right hands they cried ! 
 
 Jove nodded, and the oath was ratified. 
 
 AppalI'd the Heavens, and Earth received the sign, < 
 
 The sun in clouds conceai'd his face divine ; 
 
 The winds lamented, and the rain in tears, 
 
 Filled the lone traveller on the waste with fears ; 
 
 Thieves of the dead, though grasping at the urn, 
 
 Scar'd by the shower, the scafiers return, 
 
 And their abortive toil, the antiquaries mourn. i 
 
 On war resolv'd, the heavenly powers prepare, 
 And eager all the work of vengeance share ; 
 To each the part that best belits is given, 
 So Heaven appoints,— can kings appoint like Heaven ? 
 
 Lo ! smoothly wafted by the breathing gales, 
 A ship with sacrilegious plunder sails, — 
 The busy creek of rocky Hydra past, 
 And o'er the starboard far La Spezzia cast, 
 Cerigo nears, while on the distant view, 
 The bills of Maina rise serene and blue ; 
 Those rugged mountains, where in savage pride, 
 Still uoaubdued the Spartan race reside. 
 
 :^4 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 113 
 
 Deprived of all, they independence vaunt, ! 
 
 And gluriuus live in liberty and want. 
 
 True to his trust, and wakeful on the steep, 
 iEoluH scann'd afar the rippling deep ; 
 And by the sapience of his slate divine, • 
 
 Knew the curs't bark that stlrr'd the azure brine ;— 
 Recall'd the gales tliat gently urged her on, 
 And bade the winds attend his misty throne. 
 The wliidd obeyed. Birocca came tiie first, 
 Pluto's dire son, by Airia desert-nurst ; 
 Languid hldcyes, andHeecy white his hair, 
 lie breathes contagion and inspires despair. 
 At his approach the gay flowers sickly bend. 
 And bird:- dejected own the present fiend ; 
 Sicilian youiiis invoke the god of sleep, 
 And women weeping, wonder how they weep. 
 Next Tramontan beneath whose breezy sway 
 Tiie tides of lil'e in brisker eddies play. 
 From his bright brow and clear blue cheerful eyes 
 Dejection spreads her mothlike wings and flies. 
 Him fair Hygia to rude Boreas bore. 
 And left with Fortune on the Lapland shore. 
 The fickle nymph grew careless of the charge, 
 And the bold boy ran wand' ring wide at large. 
 This heard the mother, who in anxious haste, 
 With stretched hand pursued him o'er tlie waste: 
 Still unembrac'd he shuns her stretched hands. 
 And roves a Libertine in foreign lands — 
 VVuh him Favenius, but the sul)ject Muse, 
 By Pliocbus order'd, now her tale renews ; 
 Else would she sing what airy tasks perform. 
 The fire-eyed tempest and the howling storm, 
 The cool-vving'd zephyr ot the mountain's brow ; 
 The gales thatchace the gossamer below ; 
 The sighs that haunt the rip'ning virgin's breast, 
 Th' exploits of flatulence, ih' unwelcome guest. 
 These she should, pleas'd in lofty strains, relate. 
 But gods controul the verse and will another fate. 
 
 The winds instructed rush to raise the war— 
 ^olus fiercely mounts his winged car, 
 And gaining Neptune's crystal portal cries^ 
 "Lord of the sounding seas, awake, arise. 
 Mortals profane, th' Athenian temples rend. 
 And o'er thy wide domain the fiagments send. 
 Deep charged with spoil a ship presumptuous moves. 
 And vaiii alone his hate ^Eolus proves." 
 AioUiB pausd, the god of ocean heard, 
 Rais'd his rough front, and shook his hoary beard. 
 " Why chides the sovereign of the winds," he cried, 
 
 K2 
 
114 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAFHY OF 
 
 li '4 
 
 if. I 
 
 And seised the trident resting at tiis side. 
 
 Blow niurmurer, blow, squeeze all your bags and blow, 
 
 And let the vessel to perdition go." 
 
 iEolus fetched his breath, low-bending, blew, 
 
 And Neptune rising the dread trideni, threw— 
 
 Itstrikezs— The vessel founders in the waves, 
 
 And aw'd Cerigo mourns from all iier caves. 
 
 Meanwhile Minerva, who of all the powers 
 That mourned indignantly their ravish'd towers, 
 Su&red the most — advanced with keenest rage, 
 To aim the vengeance, and the war to wage ; 
 Against Brucides' seff she urged her plans, 
 And deeds the goddess did, appear the man's — 
 Revenge she seeks by various means and ways, 
 Inspires his pen, and strikes his brain with craze. 
 Delirious fancies tliat were never thought. 
 Helpless Brucides innocently wrote. 
 From the charm'd pen a strange perversion springs. 
 He thinks of statues and it writes down kings; 
 Basso-ielievos occupy his brain. 
 While towns and armies fill the paper plain : 
 His doom at length tiie froward pen piovokes, 
 For British statesmen; writing maible blocks. 
 At liome the sages, struck with sad surprise. 
 Gaze on the page with nostrils, mouth, and eyes— 
 With mouth apert and nostrils wide and round. 
 The senseless slaves of wonder still are found. 
 Thrice and agam his paper all peruse. 
 Thrice and again each sage his neighbours views : 
 Thrice and again each sagecssay'd to speak. 
 And tears, as statesmen weep, run dovvn each cheek. 
 " Calls he us marble blocks," at once they cry, 
 
 ' Yes, marble blocks," th« Treasury vaults reply. 
 "Then, Ift the wretch,'' they all again cxclaijn, 
 " No Innsier bear a diplomatic name." 
 With canvas wings the fiat leaves the shore — 
 Tlie man exists, the minister's no more. 
 
 Dejected, homeward now he winds his way. 
 With slow, reluctant, amorous delay. 
 Him fair Italia's pictured domes'detnin. 
 Nor trophied France invites to stay in vain ; 
 Gay France, that boasts the two best sculpiured stones, 
 Bought with the blood of thousands of hci sons. 
 
 With fervent ire that tliough of power bereft,' 
 Brucides still had sprightly pleasures left; ' 
 The l>luc-eyed goddess for her chariot calls. 
 Proudly the steeds come neighing from their stalls. 
 The conscious car exults in all its springs. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 115 
 
 And o'er the steeds the glittering harness flings. 
 Minerva mounts, and through th* empyrean drawn, 
 (Her prugregB brightening iilie the solar dawn,) 
 Down the steep slope of Heaven directs her course 
 Steers tlie prone chariot and restrains the horse. 
 Slie drives to Paris. In their swift career 
 The golden wlieels Uke whirling Ares appear. 
 A sage, with astronomic tube afar, 
 Afore one sees, and hails the new found star ; 
 Describes its motions, calculates its speed, 
 And gains, like Herschel, an immortal meed. 
 So movetlie gods to man's imperfect glance — 
 ' And wljo could think a goddess drove to France. 
 
 Arrived, her chariot in the clouds sheU ives, 
 And in tlie form of Talleyrand deceives. — 
 Inspires the Consul, and with skill divine. 
 Makes lier stern purpose politic design. 
 She bids bufore his eager fancy stand. 
 The British throng throughout ills subject land — 
 That idle throng of every kind, who sped 
 To learn new luxuries of board and bed, 
 When France in peace and ancient nicknames dealt, 
 And gained repose to plan new modes of guilt. 
 These she array'd in all the charms that grace 
 The best and bravest of the Briiisii race, 
 With wisdom, valour, riches, beauty, all, 
 That wins in council, camp, or court, or ball. 
 " But these," she cries, O Heaven-sent chief detain, 
 And soon Britannia must resign the main. 
 Possessing these, her genius you controul, 
 ' or wanting them she wants her life and soul. 
 Behold BrucidesI and his face peruse; 
 What signs of sense, and long prospective views, 
 Denotes that moon of flesh, so round and full, 
 And see that dungeon vault of wit his skull. 
 Oh ! all ye deities addressed in song, 
 Inspire our chief to keep this precious throng ; 
 But prime o'er all, may he Brucides hold ; 
 A prize more precious than the Greeks of old 
 From Ilion stolp, before the heavenly powers 
 Resigned to Fate the long beleaguered towers. 
 So shall Britainiiii, her palladium lost, 
 Receive the con(iueror and enrich his host." 
 
 The here smiled, that Talleyrand in zeal, 
 Should still the force of former habits feel, 
 And I "ay ; but more because tiic council shrewd. 
 Showed an appearance of renown renewed. 
 Forili flies Ih' arrete, and every Br'tish guest, 
 With helpless passion bans the due arrest. 
 
116 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ! 
 
 I ■ 
 
 i\ 
 
 Thus heavenly causes lake effect on eartb, 
 And statesmen gossiping proclaim the birth. 
 
 Meanwhile refulgent Mars commissioned comes, 
 With ringing cymbals and resounding drums. 
 His fervid influence fires ihe madding world, 
 Arms scoured shine bright and standards wave unfurled. 
 8t. Stephen's windows, at the dead of night, 
 Glare on the Than)C:ii a dull portentous light. 
 But fierce o'er Athens' consecrated walls, 
 The zenith fervor of the Godhead falls. 
 Oh, Muse divine ! rehearse with kindred zeal 
 Wliat happened there — the battle of the wheel. 
 
 In oldeii times, ere on the banks of Nile 
 The Gallic warriors fed the crocodile — 
 Ere Atheist antiquaries^banded there, 
 Discovered temples older than the air. 
 And proved, by hieroglyphic beasts and birds, 
 (TJie patriarchal ancestors of words ;) 
 That earth was never made, nor mortal man. 
 And time's gieat clock, aye, without makei ran ; 
 From famed Byzantium to old Athens came, 
 A four-wheeled waggon of stupendous frame. 
 With what intent Discord alone can tell; 
 Discord it was that sent it to Fauvel. 
 While yet tlie axles with the journey glowed, 
 And the wheels' tracts shone recent on the road. 
 Spread wond'rous tidings, that th' unwarning Frencli 
 With blood and water ravished Egypt drench — 
 Alarmed Fauvel, the Turkish sabre flies. 
 And in his shed tire cart abandoned lies ; 
 The Turks, exalting at so rare a pledge. 
 For royal Efiypt seized the four-wheeled sledge, 
 And when Britannia, with triumphsnt arms, 
 Restored the land to rapine and alarms. 
 The Turks to recompense, with generous heart, 
 Gave to her drogonian the fatal cart, 
 He, Greek- like, iioping thrice its price to gain, 
 Informs Dontitos, and bestows the wain. 
 Dontitos, chieftain of the cords and crew, 
 That from their frames the sacred sculptures drew; 
 Hence sprung the occasion, why tremendous Mars 
 Came down below, and filled the world with wars. 
 Wars that expelled the Ccesar from his throne, 
 Made pious Spain three powerless kings bemoan ; 
 And stirring strong, in stomachs proud and high. 
 Forced Casllercagh at Canning to let fly. 
 
 What time Minerva, as Ihe Muse has sung, 
 fcJeem'd Talleyrand with shrewd persuasive tongoe ; 
 
JOHN OAI/r. 
 
 117 
 
 Fauvel to his Athenian home returned, 
 But Discord's four-w>ieeled gifl long lost he moumed. 
 Pensive he walked Iliyssus' sedgy brink, 
 Illyssus' stream, that a young drake might drinlc. 
 
 Scans the great columns of Olympian Jove, 
 And wistful eyes ih' Acropolis above. 
 Reflects on n«4ble enterprises crost, 
 Ami his Itysantian cart untimely lost. 
 
 One fatal morn, by chance or fortune led, 
 The wretched chief had left his sleepless bed, 
 And sadly passing Hadrian's stately.arch. 
 Faced lo the right and westward cliose to march. 
 Eventful march ! two oxen there he saw, 
 Driven by a Greek, a loaded waggon draw. 
 The unusual sight like magic charms his eyes, 
 Till captive in iho ncariiig wain he spies 
 An orphan wheel of his lamented cart. 
 Surprise wilh quick electric roused his heart ; 
 Courageous grasping firm his stick, he ran, 
 Stopped the two oxen, and menaced the man ; 
 The man retreating in amazement ; flew 
 And told Dontitos, for the oxen drew 
 Relics of Greece and fragments of her skill,' 
 The worshipp'd offspring of Pentele'« hill. 
 Pentele's hill, within whose quarried cave 
 The travellers ponder and their names engrave. 
 Dontitos started, seized his hat and cane, 
 White beuver hat with black cockade so plain, 
 Which Turks admiring called the moon of power 
 And strode majestic from his lofty tower. 
 Th' approaching chief Fauvel descries afar. 
 And bravely meets him half way from the car ; 
 " That wheel is mine/'- he points his stick and cries; 
 Dontitos strove to frown with both his eyes. 
 «» That wheel is mine, I say," Fauvel repeats ; 
 Dontitos answers — and his bosom beats— 
 " Your wheel /" " Yes, mine." Dontitos cries, •' it may, 
 Out I will write my Lord, "—and turning, walked away. 
 
 As pleased the Muse the theme of strife would yield. 
 As the tired warrior quits the well-fought field 
 To join his friends and rural home again. 
 No more a tenant of the tented plain. 
 Could thoughts like his be mingled wilh the lay ; 
 Spring's cheerful morn, or summer's jocund day, 
 Th' autumnal eve, when jibes sarcastic please, 
 And the long wi nter nights of tales and ease. 
 
 O, gentle Venua ! at whose glowing shrine 
 The bard oft kneeling owns thy power divine. 
 
118 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 For once thy triumphs ho reluctant sings, 
 Her face the loth muse veiling with her winga ; 
 But Juno conies, — willi interdictions strong, 
 Forbids the thouglit, and cramps the sprightly song. 
 
 Apollo's wrath alone unsung remains ; 
 His was to celebrate in epic strains 
 These great achievments and success sublime 
 Things unnttenipted or in prose or rhyme ; 
 Fur this ho chose th' heroic British verse. 
 Balanced the lines, and bade the baid rehearse. 
 Tliua wrought tlie gods in old Alhenia's cause, 
 A\engcd their fanes, and will'd llie wcrid's applause. 
 
 \ 
 
 sS'j 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 119 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Hydra. Zea. Scios. 
 of the Turks. 
 
 Measure a brass cannon. Simplicity 
 
 At Hydra, I found a vessel bound for Scios and after examin- 
 ing that very curious island with a view to my purpose, I 
 took my passage by her, for it appeared that the rivalry among 
 the inhabitants rendered it by no means the fittest place for 
 my establishment. The scheme required a certain kind of 
 predominance which could not be obtained in so populous a 
 place, and vessels were continually going to all ports that they 
 then could enter, and might blab those secrets which were 
 essential to the execution of the plan. It required, indeed, 
 only a glance to see that Hydra was not the place ; and the 
 objections to it applied to the neighbouring island of Spezzia. 
 
 But though Hydra possessed not those facilities which I 
 was now in search of, it is a very singular island, and during 
 my stay there I was greatly entertained by the scene it pres- 
 ented. 
 
 In the voyage from Hydra to Scios, the master of the 
 schooner, or the skipper of the hoy, or the Carubatchere of 
 Martigan, or by whatever name he may be called, was in- 
 duced to go into the harbour of Zea, in the island of that 
 name, and to stop a short time. Every one acquainted with 
 the Archipelago,;_^knows that for its extent the harbour of Zea 
 is one of the finest in that region, or indeed anywhere ; it ia 
 land locked, a loch as we would call it in Scotland, and in 
 every respect was suitable to my purpose. But the very op- 
 posite of the objection to Hydra existed there. . The town 
 stands at a considerable distance on the mountain, and the soli- 
 tude of the place rendered "it impossible for any vessel to come 
 or go without exciting observation. 
 
 1 had no intention of settling on Scios, and merely went to 
 
120 
 
 THB AirrOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 it for the gratification of my curiosity. We arrived late in 
 the evening off the island, and with some difficulty, landed 
 next day. 
 
 While we stayed at Scios, the heat of the weather and the 
 fatigue endured in walking about compelled me at last to take 
 refuge in a coffee-house, much frequented by Greek and Frank 
 ship-masters and merchants. And in this place, from a con- 
 versation with a Frank stranger, I had reason to believe, if 
 his report was true, that the island of Myconi was the very 
 place I was in search of. His information quickened my cu- 
 riosity, and I determmed to visit that island, but previously to 
 see Smyrna and the ruins of Ephesus. Accordingly next 
 morning I hired a boat to take me up the gulf of Smyrna, and 
 proceeded thither. In the sail no adventure occurred ; but in 
 passing one of the forts I landed and measured the size of an 
 enormous piece of brass ordnance ; the circumference of the 
 calibre was sixty-five inches. While employed in this work, 
 the innocent Turks belonging to the garrison gathered round, 
 and it never occurred to me till I was again at some distance 
 from the place, the foolisliness of the action. 1 wonder what 
 would be said, were a Turk here to land on the fortifications 
 of Portsmouth, and measure the size of the guns in the midst 
 of the soldiers. But it quite escaped me that the Turkish 
 soldiers had any thing to do with the matter. I have often 
 thought since, that the enterprise was one of the most ibol-har- 
 dy and thoughtless of which a man could well be guilty. 
 
 While at Smyrna I learned some particulars respecting 
 Scalla Nova, which induced me to determine on makinff an 
 excursion to that town in visiting the ruins of Eplicsus, and 
 in consequence when I set out for the latter place I went 
 ^rst towards Scalla Nova. 
 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 121 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Ephesus. Cheruhims. Sailed for Samos. Myconi. House 
 there. Malta. Resolved to return to the Levant. A note. 
 
 At Scalla Nova I staid the greatest part of a day engaged on 
 my commercial inquiries, which, although not entirely satis- 
 factory, contributed to the ripening of my project. I then re- 
 turned by the ruins of Ephesus to Smyrna. While at the 
 former place I purchased tor fifteen piastres a marble Bac- 
 chus, as well executed, at least, as any of tliose monstrous 
 cherubirns with wings, who, in the shape of 11 1 cliildren, are 
 still seen perched by our artists of the last age, among the 
 effigies of great men, in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 At Smyrna I took my passage for Vathi, in Samos, but as 
 the wind was gentle I had no great expectation of a short 
 passage. The weather was however pleasant, and it was not 
 ccaiaistent with my objects to be in a hurry. 
 
 On the second day atler our departure we arrived in the 
 neighbourhood of the larger of two islands, in the gulf of 
 Smyrna, that have some how or another tlie name of the Eng- 
 lisli islands, and I went on shore. I found it inhabited by two 
 or three Turkish shepherds, and engaged one of them as a 
 guide to conduct me to a port on the opposite side of the isl- 
 and, where I was informed several ancient arches and a cis- 
 tern might still be seen ; but they all came, dogs and all. 
 
 The ruins consisted of upwards of a hundred groined vaults, 
 supported by rude square pillars, something like those of the 
 tobacco warehouses at the London docks. We afterwards 
 sailed for the port of Foscia, also to inspect it; but neither of 
 tliese places, though the latter ha'd some advantages, seemed 
 quite suitable for my purpose. A smart breeze enabled us to 
 run for Vathi, where I staid a day, and then sailed in an open 
 
 I 
 
122 
 
 TUB AUTOBIOGRAPHY Or 
 
 
 j 
 
 f 
 
 
 boat for Myconi, which I found the very place that had been 
 described to me, and of which I was in quest. 
 
 It has a beautiful Christian appearance, and on a point of 
 land close to the town stands a large mansion, erected by 
 Count Orloff, and afterwards the residence of the Russian 
 consul-general, as a part of the machination by which that 
 Semiramis of the north, Catherine II., thought to appropriate 
 the Archipelngo to Russia. 
 
 Every thing about Myconi was what I wanted, and accord- 
 ingly I set myself to obtain this building, in which I suc- 
 ceeded. The document granting it to me by the community is 
 still in my possession. 
 
 Having matured my scheme, I returned to Malta as soon as 
 possible, where I found Messrs. Struthers, Kennedy, and Co., 
 apprised byMr.Kirkman Finlay's house, in Glasgow, of a plan 
 similar to mine, which had been suggested by one of their 
 partners resident at Vienna. So remarkable a coincidence 
 tilled me with great astonishment, and the house at Malta hav- 
 ing written of my plan to Glasgow, I resolved to wait the re- 
 ply and not to return to England. This led to my second jour- 
 ney in Turkey, of which I have given some account in my 
 voyages and travels. 
 
 As some months would elapse before answers could be 
 received, 1 went to continue my inspections of the coast round 
 the Archipelago, and to ascertain the safest route to the boun- 
 daries of Hungary. In this undertaking a gentleman accom- 
 panied me who intended to proceed as far as Constantinople. 
 He had no other object in the journey than to see Turkey, 
 and I did not deem it particularly necessary to make him ac- 
 quainted with the objects of my solicitude. Something, how- 
 ever, was requisite to be explained to account for the nature 
 of the inquiries I might make, as they were now no longer 
 respectiiig those objects in Greece which are the burthen of 
 the traveller's song ; indeed some strange conjectures as to 
 the objects of my journey began to be surmised, and it wag 
 necessary to throw a tub to the whale. But one circumstance 
 gave me serious uneasiness, and shows how very cautious men 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 123 
 
 in authority should be in what they allow to escape their 
 unguarded lips. 
 
 Durin<r the time I was at Malta, Mr. Hobhouse had left 
 Lord Byron, and was returning to England with Mr. Adair, 
 the aiubiissador, who was then going home ; and 1 find by a 
 note that I made on the subject at the time, dated the 5th of 
 August ISIO, that the transaction to which T allude was com- 
 municated to me by Mr. Hobhouse. I do not recollect the 
 particulars very distinctly, but the circumstance which most 
 molested me was recorded in the following terms. 
 
 " Mr. Hobhouse mentioned that at the general's, when on- 
 ly himself, the Governor, Mr. Adair, and the Lady Hesther 
 Stanhope, were present, a conversation had arisen relative to 
 me, in which General Oaks, in a particular manner, inquired 
 if I was not sent out on some private political mission ; fortu- 
 nately Mr. Hobhouse and I had met so frequently in the course 
 of my travels, that he was able to give a proper answer to this 
 most foolish and indecorous question. The whole effect of my 
 conversation this evening with Mr. IL is, that a political mis- 
 sion is ascribed to me, and that some one or another has filled 
 the heads both of the governor and Mr. Adair with inventions 
 calculated to disturb the execution of my commercial design, 
 and to render my journey and future voyage hazardous." 
 
 My reason for adverting to this circumstance here, is to 
 point out the danger and absurdity of persons in authority 
 giving heed to such suggestions or surmises. If I had been 
 engaged on a private political mission, viz., a spy, in what 
 would have been the objects of my espionage furthered by 
 talking of them ; and if I were not so employed, it is self-evi- 
 dent that it was exposing me to great peril, especially in Tur- 
 key, by lending countenance to such a supposition. I cer- 
 tainly did at the time feel both indignant and annoyed at the 
 imprudence of General Oaks, and I see no cause yet to regard 
 with more reverence his loquacity. 
 
Ii24 
 
 TUB AUTOOIOUBAPIIY OF 
 
 ' 
 
 CHAPTER X. » . 
 
 Land at Cerigo. British Soldiers in the Blue Devils.-^ 
 Hospitalilies. Land among the Mainots. Negotiations. 
 
 We landed on Cerigo, the ancient Cytherea, at the small ma- 
 ritime village of Avlemana, where we found an English garri- 
 son, languishing for pastime. The officer was very iiospitable 
 to us, and sent a soldier to procure Samaritan ponies to bear us 
 to the capital. It was near this village that the vessel found- 
 ered with part of the Athenian marbles. 
 
 As I have given an account of the island in my voyages and 
 travels, it is needless to repeat it here; but I can never forget 
 the kindness with which we were entertained at the castle by 
 the officers. 
 
 Having hired a boat at the metropolitan village to carry 
 us to the mainland, we proceeded, afler two days' stay. It 
 was near sunset when we entered the harbour of Marathonisi, 
 in Maina, on the main land. The town is at the bottom of a 
 steep hill and has orthodoxly a church with a steeple on the 
 side next to the sea, which we had of course great pleasure in 
 beholding, for no town can pretend to be respectable that 
 wants that feature; indeed, without a steeple, a town is like 
 a face without a nose. 
 
 After the usual jealous interrogations we were conducted to 
 the castle, where we were first led into a kind of hall, and saw 
 about a dozen warriors, with women and children, idling 
 away the time. From the hall the guards conducted us up 
 a rude staircase, and introduced us to a chieHain, who was 
 sitting with several other officers. The commandant was not 
 at home, but the chieflain who acted for him, being satisfied of 
 the innocency of the motives which had induced us to land on 
 their unfrequented coasts, assured us that we were in perfect 
 safety during our abode in the country. 
 
 \ 
 
JDIIX OALT. 
 
 125 
 
 When our oxamination was finished, a Greek from the 
 interior of the Moroo, said ho would be very glad to lend us 
 his houso. The poor man had been a merchant, and having 
 incurred a fine greater than all his means, was obliged to 
 take refuge in Maralhonibi. One may admire a hardy and 
 intrepid race, who, like the Mainnts, have for so many ages 
 retained their national ciiaractcrislics, and have preserved 
 their freeddm affainsst the Rornnn and the Ottoman powers, 
 but their habitations are not very cleanly.* 
 
 When we had taken some refreshment, we went out to 
 walk, and met the commandant, attended by about half a doz- 
 en guardd. He was handsomely dressed in the garb of the 
 country, his long hair flowing in a peculiar style on his 
 shoulders ; altogether his personal appearance was transcend- 
 antly elegant. My imagination, which from the scene in the 
 castle had become full of the blue and white enthusiasm of 
 Ossian, was surprised with so distinct a vision of Oscar. — 
 He came up to us very courteously, and taking oflf the little 
 red cap which covered his hair, and which he wore somewhat 
 dofi[ed, invited us to a shop-door, and treated us to a dram. 
 There was so much dignity about himself, and so much reve- 
 rence in the treatment he received from all around him, that 
 we felt ourselves highly honoured guests. Being a man of 
 few words, he repeated the assurances of security, and seemed 
 rather hurt when we asked if he would furnissh us with guards 
 to Mystra. " The Mainot8," said he, " never molest travel- 
 lers;" adding, that even if we had killed the governor of Ce- 
 rigo, no Mainot would dare to give us up. He then invited 
 us to take a walk, and ordering his guards to stand where 
 they were, took with him a tail awkward humourous looking 
 fellow, who had been driven fr<^m his castle in the interior by 
 his enemies. 
 
 The young commandant walked on in silence till we reached 
 
 • The MHinots ar« by some snppos«^(1 to be desr^ndants of the ancient Lace- 
 demonians. Tliey were in ta<-.t composed of riigitivea from all parts of 
 Greece, who here found safety from 'I'lirkir^h iiiles. Thoy very siooii distin- 
 guished themselves in liie Greel( revuluiiun — fi;iht!nK bravely under their 
 cajiitano$. — Edit. 
 
 L2 
 
126 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 r ! 
 
 i i 
 
 the middle of a field, at some distance from the town ; a retired 
 place, where he suddenly halted. The sun was down, the 
 twilight obscure, and he enquired if we had any news. 
 
 Perceiving that he was anxious to get correct information, 
 we told him frankly und faithfully all that we knew. Our 
 conversation then turned upon the circumstances of Maina, 
 and I was amused with the shrewd sense of his friend, in 
 reply to a question of mine respecting the martial disposition 
 of the Mainots. "We fight," said he, "just like the French 
 and English, and cannot tell why." 
 
 Next morning we embarked for Bathi, the residence of An- 
 ton Bey, or prince, to whom I had letters of recommendation. 
 
 It was about eight miles off, and the description of the castle 
 may be read with instruction and amusement. 
 
 Having landed, and ascended the steep on which the tower 
 stands, we were met by a scout on the brow of the hill, and 
 conducted by him into the interior of the fortallice. In the 
 gateway a number of retainers were slumbering. The court- 
 yard was dirty with rubbish and offal, hogs were confined in 
 a comer; but hens, cocks, and ducks fluttered in liberty. 
 
 Ascending into the keep by a zigzag stair on the outside, 
 contrived for defence, the landing platform being moveable 
 and serving for a draw-bridge, the door opened into a hall, 
 where a number of long-haired heroes were sitting on their 
 " hunkers,''^ they rose as we entered, to make way for us to 
 ascend the stairs which led to the apartment of the prince. The 
 walls of the presence chamber were ornamented with arms, 
 c1»aks, and petticoats, on pegs; a bed occupied the furthest 
 corner, under which I perceived a large antique coffer. — 
 Along the sides of the room were ottomans, and on a shelf 
 I saw coffee-cups, bottles, and other articles of the cupboard. 
 
 Anton Bey, a strong hale carle, was sitting, and beside 
 him an old priest; he appeared to be about sixty. Opposite 
 sat his lady, with large rings on her fingers, and as the song 
 sings "on her mid finger she had three." On her one side 
 was a most Leonides-looking relation, with a snuff-box in his 
 hand, and on the other sat her ghostly comforter. They all 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 127 
 
 \ 
 
 rose up as we entered, and Hardyknute received us with a 
 kind of honest warmth, that military frankness which gains 
 at once confidence; he was in his youth a courageous pirate, 
 I beg Lord Byron's pardon, corsair should be the epithet 
 
 When we had sat some time he took us to see a statue 
 which he had lately found. During our absence a repast of 
 broiled meat and cheese fried with eggs was prepared for 
 us, and there was somehow a heartiness in the whole visit 
 that is remembered with pleasure. 
 
 Anton Bey pressed us to remain two or three days, and prom- 
 ised us the pleasure of a boar hunt ; but neither of us be- 
 ing sportsmen the invitation was declined, and our host see- 
 ing our determination to return next morning, gave us re- 
 commendatory letters to several of the 'J'urkish governors, 
 his friends. He also sent with us an officer, to be landed at 
 Mavroyuni, to procure horses for us. Mavroyuni was then a 
 neutral state ; but Marathonisi, with the heroic-looking chief, 
 was belligerent, and at war with our friend Anton Bey. It 
 was therefore expedient for us to send a minister to the con- 
 ference, in order to bring the answer, the Bathian envoy not 
 having passports to approach Marathonisi. 
 
 V- 
 
128 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ( 
 
 ! 
 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Tripolizza. Athens. Drink of the Castalian Spring. Fa- 
 tal effect. Nearly Immortalized in ThermnpyltB, Much 
 Ado about Nothing, ^lingers in Pompey^s Army. Lar- 
 issa. An Qile. Vale of Tempe. Tliessaloiiica. 
 
 Soon after we had landed, our servant, whom we had sent to 
 Mavroyuni, returned, and about three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing we were knocked up by a band of six robber like fellows, 
 who entered our apartment without apology and urged us to 
 make haste ; we then, all bustle, proceeded on our journey, 
 of which I have given an account in my Voyages and Travels. 
 
 At Tripolizza I was at home, and v/e halted there; but my 
 friend. Dr. Teriano, was gone with his Highness to the wars. 
 Having rested ourselves for the night, we proceeded on our 
 journey to Athens, where wo remained several days, till my 
 friend had satisfied his curiosity. On our arrival there, I 
 again took up my abode in the Propaganda monastery, where 
 I found my former apartments taken possession of by Lord 
 Byron. His Lordship, however, was absent on some excur- 
 sion, but we obtained other rooms. At this time Athens was 
 much visited by the English, and the Marquis of Sligo, liady 
 Hesther Stmhopc, and Mr. Bruce, afterwards of La Valeite 
 celebrity, \vern there. Soon after our arrival. Lady Hesther 
 Stanhope called on horseback at the monastery gate to in- 
 quire who had arrived. While we remained at Athens 
 Lord Sligo was very gratifying in his attentions, and Lady 
 Hosthcrdid me the honour of inviting me with my friend 
 to dinner, which was served in the English style, but there 
 were no drinking glasses at the table; she had only two or 
 three tumblers borrowed from the Marquis, who was of the 
 party ; it might be to take care of them, as it is^said pawn 
 brokers send their men in London to look after pledged plate 
 in fashionable houses. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 129 
 
 From Attica we proceeded to Marathon, and thence to Ne- 
 gropont, then to Thebes, from that to Livadia, thence to 
 Cheronea, and fin illy to Parnassus; for all which I entreat 
 the courteous reader, in the words of the late Abernethy, to 
 consult " my book." 
 
 While we remained at Delphos I drank of the real Castal- 
 ian spring, but the inspiration I fear was not very efficacious ; 
 it may however be read by referring to Eben Erskine. 
 
 From Delphi we went on to Zeitun, by the famous pass of 
 Thermopylffi, in v/hich we met with an adventure. The road 
 from the height into the pass gradually devolves into a deep, 
 wild, and rugged glen, in the bottom of which is a fountain and 
 a large tree of ample sliadc with a seat constructed round the 
 trunk. At this place we halted, and from a ruinous, black- 
 guard looking house, situated on the cliff above, an Albanian 
 came down and demanded money as we remounted. VVe 
 refused his demand, and were in consequence nearly immor- 
 talized, for my companion, conceiving it was a robber, drew 
 his sword ; my arms, as they always unfortunately were hap- 
 pened to be in my trunk. The soldier, seeing me unarmed, 
 let go Munro's bridle, and flew at me with his pistol, which 
 would certainly have laid me with Leonides, had not Miner- 
 va, as Butler says, interposed in the shape of rust ; the pistol 
 missed fire, and I gallantly rode away without remembering 
 the distich, 
 
 " lie tliat figlits ami runs away, 
 Way live lo figlil am tlitii day ;" 
 
 calling on Munroe to follow, which he did, leaving servants 
 and baggage, " with all the evidences of complete victory, in 
 the haiids of the enemy." 
 
 We never halted till we got to Mola, on the Gulf of Zeitun, 
 where we were after a time joined by our janissary, drago- 
 man, &ic. and baggage, just when I was disconsolately, not 
 without a little lemon in the beverage, entertaining my com- 
 panion. The whole affair, as it turned out upon investiga- 
 tion, was inconceivably ridiculous. The blackguard looking 
 house that stood so ominously on the hill was, in plain English, 
 a toll-house, and the demand for money^ from which all the 
 
130 
 
 THE Al'TOUIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ado arose, was the toll, about Is. 9d. sterling. It is, however, 
 as Buonaparte said, but a step from the sublime to the ridic- 
 ulous. 
 
 In the evening wc arrived at Zeitun, and next morning 
 continued our journey to Phersela, where we halted for the 
 night. Not far from the village is the ever celebrated plain 
 of Pharsalia, where the fate of the Roman world and the 
 destinies of the greatest people were decided. We did not, 
 however, visit the exact spot where the battle was fought, 
 but I bought from a peasant a bullet from a sling of one of 
 the warriors in Pompey's army; it was of lead, and rather 
 larger than an almond, to which it bore some sort of resem- 
 blance. I gave it afterwards to the Countess of Blessington, 
 who probably has it still. 
 
 From Phersela we proceeded to Larissa, a considerable 
 town with a number of spires or minarets. The country 
 around is well cultivated, but I have already described it. 
 
 The city stands on the banks of the river Pcneus, and in one 
 particular place, where calicoes on bleach fields were spread 
 around, the scene moved me with a strange sadness, in which, 
 if I did not weep, I shed the following verses: 
 
 Vi.r TO THE RIVER PENEUS. / 
 
 ':*'., Peneiis! asdii thy ereen side , 
 
 ' . A peiisivR hoTir I cliniice to spond, ■' 
 
 VVhcrf, o'or thy pailv flowing tide " ^ 
 
 Tile Itepclie.s liovv and osiers bend ; 
 And Haw, bciienrli the varied shade, 
 
 Tlic ruminating herds recline, 
 And lengths of woven thrifts display'd 
 
 Along thy rural margin sliine ; 
 Methoiight that youth was still my own 
 • As when I strayed by Irvine's stream, 
 And all the cares i since have known 
 Thephantonisof a troubled dream. ' 
 
 ' f Ah! never shall I know again n; 
 
 ,,; Those simple hopes of blithesome hue, ^ ■ % 
 
 The playmates gay of fancy's train, 
 Such as by Irvine's stream I knew. 
 
 •» ^i:'': 
 
 At Larissa we were detained some time, and the day was 
 far advanced when we left that Christain looking place. — 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 131 
 
 About sunset we entered the song-renowned Vale of Tempe, 
 and had a delightful ride by moonlight to the village of Baba, 
 where we slept N^ext morning we proceeded down the val- 
 ley, and crossing the Gulf of Salonica, arrived in due time at 
 the famous city of Thessalonica, for which it is to be hoped 
 the reader will consult with advantage the Epistles of the 
 Apostle Paul. 
 
 It was a part of my project to see this place and to make 
 some arrangements ; but I saw without disclosing my design, 
 it could be rendered completely subservient to my purpose ; 
 and accordingly, though we remained days there, we spent 
 them in gratifying our curiosity with the different objects of 
 antiquity in and about the city. 
 
132 
 
 THE AUTOBIOORAPUT OF 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Constantinople. Excursion to jVicomedia. Stay with a 
 Turkish Gentleman* Ladies of the Harem. A Journey. 
 A Bishop. 
 
 After leaving Salonica, we proceeded post haste towards 
 Constantinople, riding every day with almost insufferable con- 
 stancy; a pleasant enough journey, though not distinguish- 
 ed by any adventure worth relating. There was, however, 
 in the course of it a very diverting occurrence, much more 
 60 than the affair in the Pass of Thermopylae, but as Mr. 
 Munroe is now dead, the particulars cannot be related. 
 
 At Constantinople Mr. Munroe lefl me, and I was there 
 joined by Mr. S. from Malta, anxious to co-operate in the de- 
 sign to violate the Berlin and Milan decrees. 
 
 Having remained some time at Constantinople seeing the 
 lions, Mr. S. and I proceeded to Nicomedia, from which we 
 crossed to the northern limb of Asia Minor to Kirpi, on the 
 shores of the Black Sea. 
 
 The country being little frequented we were very hospi- 
 tably entertained by the most considerable inhabitants in point 
 of rank in that region. One nigiit we passed in the coun- 
 try residence of a Turk, who might be called a nobleman. 
 The establishment was numerous, and spcndid. Indeed, our 
 entertainment deserves particular commemoration, as the la- 
 dies of the harem sent us out an elegant supper of many 
 dishes, and did us the honour to inquire if we had any punch 
 and to let them taste it. 
 
 The excursion as it may be called, though in its incidents 
 adventurous, was in no respect contributory, as we had ho- 
 ped, to the plan of transmitting British goods into the inter- 
 dicted continent, and we returned with a sense of disappoint- 
 ment, though it proved the advantages of my scheme. It was, 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 133 
 
 therefore, arranged to send about a hundred bales of goods 
 to Widdin, which I undertook to precede at some distance 
 and to see deposited there till they could be transmitted into, 
 H ungary, by the way of Orsova. I acknowledge that the 
 hardships and dangers of the journey were in prospect very 
 daunting, for it lay through a region not much known, and 
 across " mountains high, and deserts idle," moreover it was 
 the winter, and the Russians at war with the Turks, infest- 
 ed the country, as reported on the southern shores of the 
 Danube. Nevertheless, as in those days I had a physical en- 
 joyment in enterpri; on the 4th of January I left Constan- 
 tinople. The particulars of the journey are related with be- 
 coming modesty in *' my book." 
 
 At Adrianople I remained several days, in order to arrange 
 matters connected with the serious object of my thoughts, and 
 having been most kindly treated by the French families resi- 
 dent in that city with galas and dances, I proceeded to Philip- 
 pi, so famed as the death place of Brutus, making as few halts 
 as possible, till I got to Sophia. There I met my friend, 
 Vilhi Pacha^s physician, for it was then his highness* head- 
 quarters. 
 
 I had come from the capital to Adrianople with hired hor. 
 ses, but as I approached the anarchy or army, I was per- 
 suaded to avail myself of my firman and post orders, accord- 
 ingly I arrived at Sophia with public steeds, and was lodged 
 therewith Theophanes, the bishop ; a man of whose learning 
 and genius the highest report prevailed at haunted Philippi. or 
 as it is called Philipopili. He was considered for his learn- 
 ing and the liberality of his sentnnents, then one of the most 
 distinguished members of the Greek hierarchy, and was born 
 in Smyrna, on the 2nd of May, my birth-day, in 1751, and in 
 1776 he passed into Christendom, visiting in the course of 
 his travels the most celebrated cities. His Latin and Greek 
 were pure and classical, he wrote French with elegance, and 
 read Italian and German, nor was he unacquainted with the 
 English language besides knowing the different dialects of 
 the Ottoman subjects. His poetry was much admired and 
 
 M 
 
 .1 
 
 III 
 
134 
 
 THB AinOBIOOBAPH? Of 
 
 i 
 
 he had written a treatise in literary Greek, on the system of 
 Occellos, hut in what manner he refuted the argument for 
 the eternity of the world, I cannot pretend to say. 
 
 In his person he was a short, Doctor Slop like Ggure, and 
 in his temper, remarkably testy, in the spurts of which, he, 
 however, was more diverting than disagreeable. Under the 
 cushions of a sofa on which he sat and slept, were struck in- 
 numerable scraps of paper, the memoranda of twenty years. 
 I requested him to show me some of his verses, when put- 
 ting his hand beneath the cushion at his back, he pulled out 
 an ancient, sullied manuscript, containing the drafl of a son- 
 net and gave it to me : it was addressed to the princess Zeph- 
 eria, of the Phanar. 
 
 When I entered his room, I found on his table a volume 
 of the new Eloise, with one of a new French translation of 
 Clarissa Harlowe, two fit parlour companions for a bishop. — 
 To meet with the doctor and him, accomplished literary char- 
 acters, at the head-quarters of a Turkish army, was an un- 
 expected miracle. In the evening we played at trenta una, 
 which brought out the sparks of his temper with the most amu- 
 smg brilliancy. 
 
 , \ 
 
JOUN OALT. 
 
 185 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Vilhi Pasha. A Vizier's Camp. Fallacy of Continental 
 Armies. Incapability of the Ottomans for War. 
 
 Next mornings I paid a visit to Vilhi Pasha, to entreat his 
 protection for myself and the caravan behind me; and it 
 can do harm to him now to speak freely. 
 
 His army in Sophia consisted, as it was said, of fifteen 
 thousand men, and the troops cantoned in the neighbouring^ 
 towns amounted to not less than fifty thousand. I quote the 
 numbers as they were reported to me, but I think myMtfi 
 from what was seen, that the multitude certainly did not ex- 
 ceed the half of that number. I have ever since been a great 
 sceptic in the reported amount of continental armies. It weald 
 be hazardous to contradict history with respect to the vast 
 forces of the Russians or Austrians, which have from time to 
 time been stated as in the field, to . . . , 
 
 " Frighten our women, our children, and beaux ;" • 
 
 but I cannot persuade myself to disbelieve the evidence of my 
 senses. 
 
 At Adrianople I was informed, from the best authority! 
 that tiie Grand Vizier's great army was reduced to a little 
 more than the number of his own household ; and I was as- 
 sured, not only here, but along the whole track of my jour- 
 ney from Selivria, that notwithstanding reports of the con- 
 trary, the Turks in no part of the preceding campaign had 
 near two hundred thousand men in the field, comprehending 
 all within the scope of the war from Widdin to Varna. Reck- 
 oning by banerets they had a much greater number, for each 
 baneret is supposed to be accompanied with a hundred and 
 twenty men, and the strength of the force is reported to the 
 Sultan by the number of banerets. Vilhi Pasha appointed 
 
 ■sr^-*Mf^- 
 
136 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 
 one of these squadrons of cavalry to accompany me across 
 Che Balkan, one of the passes of Mount Hcemus, and it amoun- 
 ted to no more than eighteen horsemen, with an officer carry* 
 ing a pennon. 
 
 The idea 6f the head-quarters of the vizier had stood in my 
 mind with all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war. — 
 I had fancied to hear the continual clashing of cymbals, the 
 clangor of trumpets the neighing of chargers, to see the Idle 
 state of banners mocking the air, and an innumerable throng 
 of gorgeous Agas; and on approaching Sophia, actually be- 
 gan to patch up in my mind the visit of Satan to chaos, in or- 
 der that I might have an apt quotation from Milton ready 
 when I came to describe so magnificent a spectacle as the 
 camp. But m> journey was ordained to chasten me with dis- 
 appointments. I saw only a multitude of Albanians, wild as 
 the goAls on their native mountains; nor were the pistols 
 in their belts more formidable weapons than the horns on 
 the headsof the companions of their youth. Their dress was 
 ragged and dirty ; the clouts round their brows, as they walked 
 grinning against ihe winter's wind, made their appearance 
 more like bedlamites than soldiers. Every thing about them 
 indicated the filth and misery of prisoners rather than the 
 pomp and insolence of soldiers; but it is thus that the circum- 
 stances of this impaired and disordered empire are falsely re- 
 presented. 
 
 While at Sophia, a grand salute was fired from five help- 
 less field-pieces of which his highness's park of artillery con- 
 sisted, in honour of a great victory obtained over the Rus- 
 sians near the confines of Persia, and it was affirmed, and, 
 alas ! credited, that three thousand heads of the vanquished 
 were brought to Constantinople. How Vilhi Pasha could give 
 countenance to a tale of such cargoes of carnage, and attach 
 to it the importance of a fact, astonished me as much as if I 
 had been the historian of th6 Seven Years' War in Germany. 
 
 When I saw Vilhi Pasha in the Morea, he appeared face- 
 tious, shrewd, and greatly superior in the general cast of his 
 endowments, not only to any idea I had formed of Turks io- 
 
JOHN OkVT. 
 
 137 
 
 general, but in respect to a kind of dexterous mode of extract" 
 ing opinions, to most men I had ever met with. At Sophia 
 he was considerably altered, but he still retained his disposition 
 to jocularity. The colour of his mind, however, was become 
 graver, now and then serious, and directly inquisitive, which, 
 contrasted with his natural gaiety, denoted anxiety and fear. 
 He kept mc with him above an hour; and though his con- 
 versation was occasionally enlivened with sly questions about 
 the different English travellers who had visited Tripolizza, he 
 oflen reverted with address to the state of Turkey in our esti- 
 mation. He evidently seemed to think that the empire was 
 not capable of effectually prosecuting the war: nothing es- 
 caped from him which disi,inctly conveyed that opinion, but 
 his manner, and the tendency of all his questions, from memo- 
 randa formed at the time, warrant me in ascribing it to him. 
 He was unquestionably a man of great natural talent, but his 
 head was more political than military, and it is no slight proof 
 of the absurdity of the system of the Ottomans than, that he, 
 so inexperienced, should have been placed at the head of 
 the main body of the army, for whatever might have been 
 the justness of his notions as to the mode of conducting war, 
 he wanted entirely that habitual veadiness in comprehending 
 the details of field operations so essential to success. 
 
 *' . . 
 
 M2 
 
 ; . li io - . > 
 
 ,^- 
 
 t'Ui,.,*- 
 
138 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPIIY OF 
 
 . 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 An Adventure. — Rejlections. 
 
 After leaving Sophia, the road for throe hours lay acroM 
 the spacious plain on which the town is situated ; but as 1 
 have recjordod in " my book" the particulars of the journey 
 across Mount Hcemue, I may be permitted to omit the details 
 here ; one adventure, however, has always exceedingly amus- 
 ed me in the recollection. 
 
 When we had reached the lower hills, on the northern side 
 of the mountains, we met a band of armed men, the chief of 
 wliora commanded us to alight. He was the governor of 
 Belkofsa with his guards, going to inspect a post in the neigh- 
 bourhood. We obeyed; and Vil hi Pasha's Tartar sent with 
 me, untied his portmanteau, and presented him with a ring 
 from hia master, and a letter recommending me to his pro- 
 lection. Seating himself on the ground, and putting the 
 ring on his little finger, he began to read the letter, when a 
 blast of wind came roaring through the wood?, shaking the 
 wintry weight from the trees, and covering us all so profusely 
 that I began to fear we were involved in the beard of an 
 avalanciie ; he however, disencumbered himself from his pel- 
 isse of snow, and taking his inkstand from his girdle, wrote to 
 his second in command to furnish me with guards as far aa 
 Kaaralom, to the commandant of which the Tartar had anoth- 
 er ring and a letter. He then mounted, and we pursued our 
 several ways 
 
 The Turkish phrases of compliment are the same on all oc- 
 casions, as much so as the ♦ how d'ye do's' of the English ; but 
 they are a little more formal, and the second inquiry to a 
 stranger is a hope that he is comfortable. — His Excellency 
 of Belkofsa was too polite a personage to omit this, so, strok- 
 ing his beard as he was sitting in the snow as high as his bead 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 130 
 
 he inquired if I was comfortable : I waf standing, and the 
 snow was up to my middle. 
 
 AAer this incident nothing particular occurred till we 
 reached Widdin; but if the courteous reader feels the slight- 
 est anxiety to be acquainted with what occurred, I refer him to 
 "my book," which, like many other good things existing in 
 this world, is too much neglected. It may, however, be re- 
 marked, that, saving the nuisance of guards and the strict 
 scrutiny of the pickets, it was better to travel through the seat 
 of war than in more lonely regions, especially when it was 
 known I was a British subject. 
 
 The utmost readiness to oblige was unifonniy Miown in 
 courtesies towards me. In oiie pin..; ? k U inJ, or ro.jv.nent wo 
 would call it, supposed to be of a Ujousu'i'i aian, were halted, 
 and the commander alighted from hk horss, ordered me to 
 be seived with a pipe and reyaied vith rot^bj. He wa? f^ 
 remarkably fine old man, and twoyoK'ths -vho were n/s^lj h'na 
 seemed to be his sons. Thev had zomf. f^jwi Ash. nm\ were 
 on their way home. I may ha rnistakar , but f\|'/,nienc/ 
 leads me to believe that it is the bnst p acy .Iwayj U' uo 
 cept offered civilities. In the rejrctior! of tavours it in ditfi- 
 cult not to be rude, where c mutual laaguajqr« tioes ii:A fiirn»sh 
 the means of softening a refusal. 
 
 •'-■•-t 
 
140 
 
 THE AITTOBIOORAPRT Of 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Widdin. Inquiries concerning me. — Pasha's dragoman.^- 
 Visit to the pasha. Intrigues. Visit to the Russian camp. 
 
 Although the few days I stayed at Widdin were among the 
 most disagreeable of my life, yet they are somehow pleasant 
 to recollect ; and I cannot give a better account of my ad- 
 ventures there, than by transcribing the notes made at the 
 time. 
 
 The name of Wddin was left out in my iirman, and the 
 omission, as it was pretended, could not be supplied. I think 
 it was done purposely, the fortress being then invested by the 
 Russians; but Widdin was an essential point to which my 
 journey was directed, and to obviate the effects of the omission 
 before reaching the gate, I sent forward the Tartar which 
 Vilhi Pasha sent with the escort. This obtained for me leave 
 to enter, and I reached unmolested the house inhabited by the 
 archbishop, to whom I had letters of particular recommenda- 
 tion. His palace was at the time used as barracks by the 
 garrison, and he could not accommodate me with lodgings, 
 but the gates of the town being shut for the night soon after I 
 entered, obliged me to remain with him. 
 
 In the course of a short time the town-major, as we would 
 call him, had reported my arrival to the Pasha, and the arch- 
 bishop was immediately ordered to the seraglio to give an ac- 
 count of his guest. - , ■ ,. v *? k 
 
 The Turk who brought the mandate, having dclvered it, 
 spread his mantle on the floor and said his prayers. 
 
 While his grace was absent, the pasha's dragoman was in 
 the room, and we entered into conversation. He recommend- 
 ed himself in the warmest manner, and a Greek, of whos* 
 mal-practices I was not uninformed. — This interpreter had 
 
 
JOHN a ALT. 
 
 141 
 
 been brought up at the petty court of Wallachia, and had an 
 innate appetite for political intrigue. He was well acquainted 
 with the vendible qualities of several noted personages at 
 Constantinople, and I had some reason to believe him. 
 
 He set me down as a spy. Had I worn a uniform I would 
 not have been surprised; but I had nothing more bloody looking 
 about me than a scarlet waistcoat. The artflil character of 
 the man's own mind, and the reputation of his friend, con- 
 vinced me that I should have nothing to do with him. Acute 
 and suspicious, he saw that his offer of services was mentally 
 declined. 
 
 What passed between the archbishop and the pasha can on- 
 ly be conjectured ; but I was advised to go early in the morn- 
 ing and pay my respects to his highness. 
 
 I was introduced *to the minotaur by a shrewd old man, 
 his secretary, who led me through many labyrinthical spart* 
 mcnts to where sat 
 
 " Semi viriiinque bovem semi bovemque virum," 
 holding a curiously carved woodi n baton in his paw. 
 
 When the Turk is at his ease, he sits, as all the world 
 knows, cross-legged ; but when exciteJ, he draws his knees 
 together, and bends forward with an eager countenance. Into 
 this posture Mulu Pasha threw himself when I entered the 
 room — a tall backed, gilded chair was ready for me, covered 
 with crimson, somewhat resembling the Hanoverian chaiTS 
 of silver some time ago at Windsor castle. 
 
 In the course of conversation, it appeared that the inter- 
 preter had been with the pasha. I had mine with me; for it 
 is the etiquette on such occasions for the stranger to bring 
 his own dragoman. My promotion during the night had 
 been more rapid than is usual in his majesty's service, being 
 now regarded as a general, and so styled, my red waistcoat 
 testifying to the fact. 
 
 In his manners, I found the pasha a rough Turk, but not 
 without some generous qualities; and the visit passed off 
 very civilly. 
 
142 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 The town was so full of soldiers, that he could not assign 
 me lodgings in any private house ; but he ordered an apart- 
 ment in one of the khans to be carpeted for me. 
 
 In the meantime the interpreter and the Greek, to whom I 
 have alluded and whom T must consider as the invisible ma- 
 chinery of the epic of which I was the hero, had put their 
 heads tofjether and were at work. 
 
 Towards evening I received an intimation by my janissary 
 that it was expected I would not stay more than three days in 
 the town nor walk about the fortifications. This intelligence 
 was not agreeable ; but as I was writing at the time, it did 
 not much trouble me. Before the gates were shut for the 
 night a message, however, came from the Tartar Aga of the 
 garrison, to inform Vilhi Pasha's Tartar, that horses were 
 ready, and that he must depart immediately. 
 
 Tw6 days passed without any occurence, and a heavy fall 
 of snow prevented me from having any desire to walk abroad. 
 On the third day the weather cleared, when my janissary, 
 who happened to be in the street, came in with great exulta- 
 tion, and called me to see the pasha in a scarlet chariot, 
 with about two hundred guards around, going to the custom- 
 house, little thinking that this magnificent array was on our 
 account. In the course of a few minutes after came a mess- 
 senger, with a silver rod in his hand, and ordered the janissa- 
 ry to the pasha. The janissary went with fear and trembling, 
 and returned with a tear in his eye, along with the mes- 
 senger, sagaciously to inquire if I was not a Russian spy; 
 because, if I were, the pasha had threatened to put his head 
 in his hand, like a melon, for bringing me into the fortress. 
 This was accompanied with an order for my dragoman to at- 
 tend examination ; but the plot had now thickened to such a 
 degree, that I thought it more accordant to the best rules of 
 the drama to hasten the catastrophe, and therefore refused to 
 allow him. This answer brought the pasha's interpreter 
 with a consequential aspect; I recapitulated to him, remem- 
 bering the impression he had made upon me, ail the circum- 
 Btances of the extraordinary coarse of proceeding adopted to- 
 
 ^ 
 
jrOHN OALT. 
 
 143 
 
 wards me, affirming that I had come on no other business than 
 what was already known to the pasha. He went away and 
 returned with an inquiry to account for the omission of Wid' 
 din in my firman. With the natural answer, he departed ; 
 but almost immediatel} Cuvne back, with a demand for my 
 papers. To this it was iiccessary to put on a bold face ; 1 
 therefore replied to the following effect. 
 
 " My papers consist wholly of private letters and pasEports, 
 which I will certainly not deliver to you, nor to any one else. 
 How do I know that all t'lese impertinent messages really 
 come from the pasha 1 but if they do, tell his highness that 
 I will attend on himself whenever he is pleased to call me, and 
 satisfy him that 1 am a British subject; that in the meantime 
 as such I demand his protection for my person and property. 
 If there be any complaint against me tell me what it is, but do 
 not endeavour to pick matter of suspicion out of my attend- 
 ants. Finally, and once for all, say thai I feel myself in the 
 power of his highness, but at his peril let him do me any in- 
 jury." 
 
 Historical truth obliges me to confess that there was very 
 little heroism in this magnanimous defiance. I knew that 
 however fairly and clearly Greek interpreters may reflect the 
 acquiescences of peace and ceremony, they were noncon- 
 ducters of indignation. — The fellow to whom I was speak- 
 ing would as soon have ventured to have tugged the pasha 
 by his black, bushy beard, as to have repeated a moiety of 
 what I said, and my answer closed the affair. The pasha 
 sent back to say, that as he could neither read nor write, he 
 wished me to wait the next day with my papers on his secreta- 
 ry, which I did, and it is but justice to add, that I had no fur- 
 the reason to complain during the remainder of my stay, and 
 I was informed that as many horses as I chose, to make what 
 excursions I thought proper, were at my command. 
 
 During this last visit of the interpreter, my stupid janissa- 
 ry, understanding that the pasha was wanting my papers, and 
 he happening to have a number of packets and trumpery in his 
 saddlebags, must, forsooth, brmg his also out, in order to 
 
144 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 strengthen the affirmations of our innocence. Among them 
 to my indescribable horror, w^fi a large parcel for Prince Ka- 
 minsky, the Russian commnnder. I bad but one way to take 
 on this frightful disovery, which iMu, to order him, with the 
 interpreter, instantly with it to the j||i||u The three or four 
 minutes of his absence were truly exquisite ; however, he 
 soon returned with a blithe countenance, saying, that the * 
 pasha was in correspondence with the Russian general, and 
 would transmit the packet without delay across the river to 
 the officer commanding there, and send the receipt when the 
 boat returned, which was faithfully performed. 
 
 But in opening my packets,! found a letter huddled in among 
 them to the French minister at Vienna. I was not long decid- 
 ing what to do with it, and I put it in the lire. Mr. Canning 
 (now Sir Stratford) was made acquainted with the .transac- 
 tion, and thought, as I had been so treated, x should have 
 given up the letter to him. 
 
 - An opportunity occurred soon after this fracas, to send to Orso- 
 va, where I expected a gentleman from Vienna to meet me ; 
 but when the messenger returned, I was informed he did not 
 deem it prudent to come. J will not, however, trouble the 
 reader with my extreme disappointment at finding my plans 
 thus frustrated, myself without money, and a large caravan of 
 valuable merchandise behind me. I actually shed tears of 
 rage and vexation. 
 
 While my letters, were on the road to Orsova I walked 
 about freely and with the pasha's permission induced a boat- 
 man to take me across the Danube to see the Russian camp. 
 The stream was full of small pieces of ice crashing and tumb- 
 ling, but as 1 have since made an excursion in similar circum- 
 stances across the vast St Lawrence, I shall say no more about 
 it here. The Russian commander received me very politely, 
 and conducted me to his hut under ground, in which there 
 was a fire and a pane of glass for a window ; he made coffee 
 for me, and was unquestionably exceedingly courteous and 
 kind. He was a young man, not much older than myself, 
 gienteelly dressed, with an air of aristocracy. After sitting 
 
iota GALT. 
 
 145 
 
 ; them 
 ce Ka- 
 totake 
 rith the 
 or four 
 ver, he 
 hat the 
 iral, and 
 river to 
 trhen the 
 
 in among 
 ig decid- 
 Canning 
 I ^tranaac- 
 uld have 
 
 some time with him I went to visit the camp, which consisted 
 chiefly of cavalry ; the men were well dressed, and the horses 
 very good, fastened each to a spear stuck upright in the 
 ground; but the force was quite inconsiderable compared to 
 what I expected to 89% <p served however to convince me 
 of the awful exaggertttoi which attends all the military phe- 
 nomena of the continent It did not I am sure amount to 
 many hundred men, and Widdin at the time contained, with 
 the inhabitants, it was said, no less than fifly thousand. Hav- 
 ing expressed my sense of the Russian commander's polite- 
 ness, I returned across the Danube, where I found the bless- 
 ed tidings from Orsova had arrived. 
 
 idtoOrso- 
 beetme; 
 le did not 
 ouble the 
 my plans 
 caravan of 
 tears of 
 
 M' 
 
 ^,. 
 
 walked 
 eda boat- 
 sian camp, 
 and tumb- 
 ar circum- 
 more about 
 y politely, 
 hich there 
 lade coffee 
 rteotts and 
 m myself, 
 ;er sitting 
 
 
146 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPHr OP 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A romantic adventure. Leave Widdin, Vexation in a cot-' 
 tage. The old bishop of Sophia. A mysterious adven- 
 ture. Return to Christendom. Missolonghi. Industry in 
 the Lazaretto of Messina. 
 
 In the evening, after my return from the Russian camp, I had 
 a numberof visitors, and among others an aged Turk, of the 
 finest physiognomy I ever beheld. He would have been beau- 
 tiful in any picture by RafFaelle. In the course of conversation 
 he mentioned that he was taken, when a very little boy^ 
 from Belgrade to an Hungarian nobleman's residence, where 
 he had for a number of years been treated as a son of the 
 family. In consequence, when he came back to Turkey, he 
 had made a vow to return, as ffir as he was able, the kind- 
 ness with which he had been treated, and among other things, 
 said that twenty, thousand piastres were at my command. I 
 told him how I was situated with the caravan of merchan- 
 dise coming forward, and 'the gentleman expected from Vi- 
 enna having declined to come to Orsova. 
 
 With his assistance I might no doubt have crossed the con- 
 tinent, and made the best of my way to England, but, at leas', 
 for the present, that project could not be carried into effect ; 
 accordingly 1 received from him next day eeven thousand 
 piastres to pay the expenses incurred, and gave a friend of 
 his an order to receive the forty-five camel loads oi goods, 
 resolving to return to Constantinople and thence to England 
 without delay, in the hope of there finding general support 
 in my project, frustrated in the particular patronage I had ex- 
 pected. 
 
 The following day I left Widdin ; a rapid thaw had com- 
 menced, and it was noon before I found myself ready to quit 
 the fortress. I shall, having elsewhere sketched the journey, 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 147 
 
 be here not very particular but, however pleasant in a poet- 
 ical sense it may be to stray "On the banks of the dark rolling 
 Danube," it was not very pleasant to travel them. The tracks 
 in the snow, which during the frost had been converted into 
 highways, were turned into canals, which obliged us to seek 
 new paths. The streams which had been frozen, but of which 
 the ice by the continual tlioroughfare of passengers, had 
 been in many places broken, were full and rapid, and the 
 horses in passing several times plunged up to the belly, • to 
 which were added, a lowering sky, a wet night, and cattle 
 that we feared to be obliged to leave on the road. However 
 we crossed the mountains without adventure ; but in a cottage 
 a little on the south side of Kootlofskn, I experienced another 
 return of my vexation. In the corner of a house, however a 
 cask of wine was discovered, which with a little persuasion 
 was broached, and as tlic rain or rather melted snow, was drop- 
 ping a heavy shower, we were glad to partake of the wine 
 — a pan and a fire supplying what the backwardness of the 
 season had denied. 
 
 From Sophia, Vilhi Pasha's head quarter were removed, 
 and the old bishop was exceedingly dejected on account of the 
 renewal of hostilities, and the taking of Loftsa with the whole 
 flower of the vizier's army, amounting, it was said, to 13,000 
 men. It was impossible, without a feeling of peculiar sor- 
 row, to leave that interesting and helpless old man in a situ- 
 ation which even in peace and summer afforded him no plea- 
 sure, and where he suffered a living death in the fears of life 
 and the infirmities of age. In proceeding towards Constan- 
 tinople, afler halting at Piiilippopili, I met with a mysterious 
 adventure, which was never quite explained. 
 
 The wetness of the weather had obliged me to take refuge 
 in a country inn, as we would call it, and afler I had been 
 there about an hour, a band of travellers, evidently of some 
 rank, came into the coffee-house. By tlieir dress, they ap- 
 peared to be travelling Jews, but there was something about 
 their air and 'mien which showed more of the soldier than 
 ihe njv^rchant. I w^-s amused by an inadvertency in their dis-r 
 
148 
 
 THE AUTOBIOORAPHY OF 
 
 guise which was certainly overlooked by themselves. Their 
 beards were all too short for the characters they professed to 
 be ; and one of them, a young man under thirty, was clean 
 shaven, which at once betrayed them. The "shaven and 
 shorn" individual, seeing me in the Prank dress, came to- 
 wards me, and presently, to my surprise, spoke French, and 
 we entered into conversation. He was of a cheerful dispo- 
 sition, and mentioned that they had come from Germany. 
 
 After some time the weather cleared up and they went 
 away. I was too wet to go, or we should have joined forces. 
 They had not proceeded above an hour or two, when some 
 oUier travellers came into the house, and I learnt from them 
 that the band in advance were surely French officers go- 
 ing on some secret mission. The^ person who gave me this 
 information mentioned some high influential names of persons 
 who were in the secret, among others Count Ludolf, the Nea- 
 litan minister. Altogether, there was something in the affair 
 exceedingly incomprehensible, and I mentioned to Mr. Can- 
 ning, (Sir Stratford Canning,) when I returned to Constanti- 
 nople, my obscure gropings which these men had caused. He 
 said nothing, but it was very evident to me by his manner that 
 he was acquainted with the circumstance. Some time^after» 
 at Smyrna, I was told by the consul that one of the archdukes 
 came along my route secretly on his way to be sent to Sar- 
 dinia, to marry the Princess Beatrix of that island. This 
 was immediately after a baron of his Imperial Highness's 
 suite, who was with Mr. Worry, had left the room. I have 
 often since wondered if it was the Archduke's suite that I had 
 fallen in with, and my inclination is to thmk it was. 
 
 From Constantinople I proceeded homeward by sea, and, 
 among several other places, staid two or three days at Misso- 
 longhi, since so famous as the death-place of Lord Byron.— 
 The weather was exceedingly wet while I was there, and I 
 could not stir out, in consequence of which I was obliged to 
 amuse myself as well as I could, but the materials were very 
 scanty. However, among other things, the master of the 
 house, where I staid, had a copy of Goldoni's dramatic works. 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 149 
 
 which I read till I was tired ; and then, from sheer want of 
 something else to do, took to translating them, and in one 
 day translated the comedy of " La Gelousia di Lindoro," un- 
 der the name of " The Word of Honour." The work was 
 afterwards publislied in blank verse in " The New British 
 Theatre," and is one of my greatest feats, whether consid- 
 ered for quantity or execution. I also next day translated 
 another comedy, under the name of" Love, Honour, and In- 
 terest," which was also published in the same work. The ge- 
 nius r.f Goldoni is not of a high order, but his dialogue is sin- 
 gularly natural. In my version it is on stilts, but still the trans- 
 lations afford, in iny own opinion, a passable view of his pecu- 
 liarities. I translated also several passages of other plays, 
 but completed none save the two mentioned. I allude to 
 the fact merely to show to what shifts travellers are obliged 
 to have recourse for amusement, and chiefly because Misso- 
 longhi is now Known to most literary men. 
 
 At Missolonghi I embarked in a vessel for Messina, where 
 we were put under quarantine for eighteen days. The room 
 assigned to me was truly lugubrious. It looked into a court- 
 yard, and the area was a burying-ground, which obliged me 
 to desire the porter to get me the last new Italian work. Never 
 was an order more fortunately executed. He brought me the 
 Life and Works of the famous Alfieri. I had seen his " Myr- 
 rha" performed, but 1 cannot describe the delight the volumes 
 afforded ; I devoured them ; and they produced an immediate 
 revolution in my taste. Previously it had been my endeav- 
 our to be dignified and classical, but on reading the works 
 of Alfieri, a change took place, arising from seeing that de- 
 fect conspicuous in his compositions. In the midst of some 
 of the finest natural bursts of passion, a recondite expression 
 marred the whole, and the first effect was the following con» 
 trite acknowledgment, in an 
 
 M^ 
 
 ODE TO SIMPLICITV. 
 
 I- 
 
 Mother of beauty, nympli divine, 
 IJail, ever Tair Simplicity | 
 
 N3 
 
"> 
 
 ' ! 
 
 150 THV ▲VTOBIOORAPHY OF 
 
 LoQf Air remote f^om thy grven shtlnei ' ; 
 
 Eaehanted by tbo wkard powen, 
 I lingered In fantutic towers, 
 Nor (bit tby mild benignity . 
 
 II. 
 
 But now with tbe dissolvlngepell 
 
 Fly all the forms or sorcery, 
 And in the gentle hermit's cell, 
 Restraint— that to tby altar brings 
 A temperate feast flrom ffuits and springs. 
 
 Allays my fevered phantasy. « ' 
 
 III. 
 
 Still more and more, sweet nymph, inspire 
 
 Thy proselyte and votary. 
 And teach him as he wakes the wire, " , 
 
 Those sacred touches to impart 
 That suddenly surprise the heart . 
 
 Intby unstudied melody. . 
 
 I afterwards translated and abridged the autobiography 
 of the poet, and began those dramatic esaays which I after- 
 wards published, and may again republish, for now the na- 
 ture that I have endeavoured to throw into them is better 
 understood. However, I take great credit to myself for indus- 
 try in the lazaretto of Messina, having enjoyed there with su 
 much relish those sublime works which are every day be- 
 coming better known to all Christendom. It is needless to 
 say here, that the English translations published Qf the Life, 
 and of the Plays, give no idea of the singular felicity with 
 which they are executed, notwithstanding those blemishes, 
 as I think them that obscure the sense of particular passages. 
 
 
 I 
 
 "s ■ - « 
 
JOHN OAX/r. 
 
 
 151 
 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Sardinia. A visit from the Russian ambassador. Go to 
 Gibraltar. Thence to Cork. State of crime in Ireland. 
 Proceed home. End of the Third Epoch. 
 
 When relieved from quarantine, I found at Messina an old 
 acquaintance in General Skirrot, who was kind enough to of- 
 fer me a passage with himself with a transport, but as he 
 could not exactly say when she would sail, 1 went forward to 
 Palermo, and thence embarked for Sardinia, where, as my 
 information respecting the island was tlicn very imperfect, I 
 staid some time, and became acquainted with Mr. Joseph 
 Smith, the secretary of legation, a gentleman of considera- 
 ble taste and acquirements.* He pointed out to me one of 
 Alfieri's particular friends, for that genius was then pre- 
 dominant in my reflections. I exchanged there for the En- 
 glish translation of his Life, the works which I obtained in the 
 lazaretto of Messina. 
 
 An agreeable incident happened to me at Cagliari, which 
 had the effect of prolonging my stay several days in Sar- 
 dinia, — a visit from the Russian ambassador. He spoke En- 
 glish perfectly, better than any foreigner I have ever known, 
 and was thoroughly acquainted with all our leading authors. 
 He was the first from whom 1 imbibed a right notion of the 
 spirit of the Russian government. No doubt there has been 
 some shade of difference always between our respective opin- 
 ions, for I am perhaps a little prone to think government 
 should be, as it were, committees of their subjects ; but ^I 
 could not perceive that he has ever greatly objected to this 
 notion. Like all the Russians, however, that I have ever 
 known, and I have known many since of rank and talent, 
 lie seemed to coasider governments as agents having the 
 
 * The article on Sardinia, in my Voyages and Travels, was revised by him 
 
152 
 
 I! I 
 
 improvcm 
 their trust. 
 
 AUrOBKXlRAPIIY OP 
 
 portion of mankind their suhjocts, for 
 Prince is younger than mo, nnd is now past 
 the active period of life, but lam sure it is no flattery to say, 
 that lie ia culculatedto render much benefit to his country, no^ 
 by actions, f )r he is not a man of action, hut he iwsbOHsea 
 great intuitive perception of character, an extent of prac- 
 tical kno\vled;^c quite superior, and more liberality of ideas 
 than most men, with a kindliness of feeling that is exceed- 
 ingly amiable. As a counsellor he would bo in his sphere, 
 and one wiio.se advice ought to bo held in mucli esteem, not- 
 withstanding the easiness ot his nature, and wiiat may bo cal- 
 led boyi.sh eccentricity. I have introduced freely my opin- 
 ion of tl\is gentle and good man, because he is one of those 
 whose talents and discernment are only justly valued by 
 those wlio know them best. 
 
 At this time the Princess Beatrix of Sardinia was married, 
 as before nientioned, to the Arcluluke, and the wedding fes- 
 tivities werogoingon. I was invited to go to court and to 
 partake of tiie galas, but for obvious reasons the honour was 
 declined. There was, however, a mask-ball, which was a 
 liuge temptation ; I had, however, the fortitude to withstand 
 it. In truth, being very dull, I had no enjoyment in things 
 of that sort. 
 
 As will be seen in the course of these pages, I have all 
 my life been liable to occasional fits of abstraction, unless par- 
 ticularly roused. At Cagliari, a ludicrous incident of this 
 
 kind happened when Prince K introduced himself to me. 
 
 The weather was very warm, and I was to dine at the ambas- 
 sador's ; in consequence the process of my dressing was slow, 
 and I was very indolent. I had only got on my stockings 
 and small clothes,and was sitting in my shirt reading, of all 
 things. Dr. Black's translation of the Life of Alfieri. The 
 room in which I was sitting had a tiled floor, and was swarm^ 
 ing with fleas and sand-flies. In reading the book I felt my 
 legs often annoyed by these bloody-minded beasts, and with- 
 out thinking that I had on white silk stockings, every now 
 and then committed murder. On the entrance of the prince 
 
JOHN OAt/r. 
 
 ./ 
 
 153 
 
 ve all 
 sspar- 
 of this 
 me. 
 mbas- 
 slow, 
 ckings 
 of all 
 The 
 warm', 
 Bit my 
 with- 
 y now 
 prince 
 
 I was roused from my abstraction, and lo and behold ! my 
 stockings were all frickied with blood, and God knows how 
 many lives I had to answer for. 
 
 From Cagliari I went with the packet to Gibraltar, where 1 
 said two or three days for the purpose of obtaining some com- 
 mercial information, and to consider at leisure the local cir- 
 cuuistancns of the place; in order that if I returned to the 
 Mediterranean, I might not bo altogether ignorant of its com- 
 mercial advantages. But I considered my travels asover: 
 Hi least I made no particular note of what I saw after leav- 
 ing Sardinia. 
 
 Willie I rcinained at the fortress, I was much indebted to 
 the kindness and hospitality of my friend the late Colonel 
 Wriglit, but I did not at this time fall in with any particular 
 character. From Gibraltar I went to Cork, where we were 
 again put under quarantine at Cove. During the quarantine 
 nothing particular occurred ; but I got the newspapers regu- 
 larly, and was naturally led to think of the condition of Ire- 
 land. The assizes were then sitting, and ^by carefully peru- 
 sing the publication of the different trials, it appcar'^d to me, 
 by notes formed at the time, that much of the raukncss of crim- 
 inality among tiio Irish was owinsf to some defect in the ad- 
 ministration of justice; and I find I remarked, that the con- 
 duct of Irish juries proved that juries were not fit for all peo- 
 ple, and particularly for the Irish people : an observation 
 
 of more depth than I was then aware of, and made in con- 
 sequence of a trial in v^rhich I took particular interest as it 
 was reported in " The Cork Intelligencer" of the 10th of Au- 
 gust, 1811. 
 
 One Thomas Murphy was indicte d at the Carrickfergus as- 
 sizes for uttering forged notes in imitation of the notes of 
 the Greenock Bank Company, " knowing the same to be 
 forged." The teller of the bank, to whom the notes were 
 made payable, was called to prove the forgery ; but the judge 
 observed that he was only the payee, and that it would be ne- 
 cessary in this prosecution that the cashier, or person who sign- 
 ed the notes, should be present to prove the forgery. The 
 
154 
 
 I 1 
 
 
 
 -«V.."- 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 person not being present, the jury immediately found the 
 prisoner " not guilty." The note which I made on this trial 
 is curious, as it shewed that I thought the judge ignorant of 
 banking business, and the teller ignorant of law. Tlie judge 
 ought to have told him, that although he was only the payee 
 of the note, his name in it was actually written by himself, 
 and therefore he was fully competent to prove the forgery. — 
 I have no recollection of mentioning this opinion to any per- 
 son, but the correctness of it seems indisputable. 
 
 It appears from reading the different trials in the papers, at 
 that time, that crime was very rife in Ireland, and 1 drew 
 an inference from what I read, that deserves some attention, 
 for I speak of it with historical impartiality, not having for 
 more than twenty years looked at the notes or remembered 
 t' : occurrence. It is, that from the way the Irish have of com- 
 L ning together, and of supporting each other in opposition to 
 the judicature and government of the country, it is not suf- 
 ficient to prosecute only the individuals who commit great 
 offences ; but that even the districts in which the offenders 
 reside, ought to be mulcted in some way or other, — the neigh- 
 bourhood ought to be made responsible to the nation for the in- 
 juries which its members do to the public. Something in the 
 manner that tithings and hundreds, were made responsible 
 for the conduct of their inhabitants in King Alfred's time. 
 
 Another curious fact was mentioned, as matters of news 
 only, in the "Cork Morning Intelligencer" of the 2rM of Au- 
 gust, 1811. It was stated that one Dennis Murvonnagh pre- 
 sented a petition to Mr. Justice Daly, reprercnting, that on 
 the 10th of July, 1811, his son was murdered at Derrygon- 
 eily; that on the 11th the brother of the deceased applied to 
 Dr. Nixon, a magistrate of the county, for a warrant against 
 the murderers, which Dr. Nixon refused — that on the 13th 
 the petitioner applied to the Rev. William Owens, the next 
 resident magistrate, and vvas again refused ; and that the 
 petitioner applied to Dr. Stewart, another magistrate of tho 
 county, and provost of Enniskillen,and was once more refused, 
 and told to apply to Dr, Owens, as he had done before. Tho 
 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 155 
 
 judge ordered the petitioner to go to Major Brooks, who would 
 take the information ; but when the poor man had assembled 
 hid witnesses, the major had gone into tho country, and the 
 murderer was going about unmolested. — Where such things 
 are permitted, misrule and disorder only can exist. 
 
 Living solitary on board the vessel, and having but news- 
 papers to amuse mo, I was much struck with the prevalence 
 of atrocity in Ireland, compared with what 1 heard of in Tur- 
 key, although we speak of that country as in a state of anar- 
 chy ; and I made another note of what appeared to me at the 
 time a curious instance of the depravity in Ireland to which 
 human nature sometimes sinks. It is that murders are com- 
 mitted there from causes and grudges, of which the English 
 have no conception. In the same paper from which I took the 
 foregoing anecdote, mention is made of a man having been 
 murdered by liis fellow-labourers, from pure invidiousness. — 
 IJc was a stranger in that part of the country, and employed 
 as a stone mason at some new building of Colonel Vereker's, 
 at Ticrwharn. I never heard of a similar crime from a sim, 
 ilar cause havin.fr been committed in Enjjland or Scotland, or 
 elsewhere. 
 
 These remarks are the nucleus of my notes during the time 
 1 was under quarantine. — When relieved from that captivity, 
 ' I went to tlie city of Cork, whore letters from home were 
 awaiting me. Ailer dinner, I set off in the mail for Dublin ; 
 next day stopped in that city, to which I had letters, and hired 
 a coach and man to go about with me, to shew me all the ob- 
 jects of curiosity. In the evening, I set out in the mail for Bel- 
 fast, embarked at Donairhadee, and in due season, as fast as 
 the poi^'t, was taken to Greenock ; there I remained a few 
 days with my friends, and then proceeded to London. 
 
156 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 !l 
 
 ! ( 
 
 i 
 
 EPOCH FOURTH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Periodical estimates. Abandon the intention of studying 
 the law. Also the Levant scheme. Publish my travels.'^ 
 Renew my acquaintance with Lord Byron. 
 
 In a work of this kind it is necessary to make periodical esti- 
 mates of character, and to determine occasionaUy whether 
 one has been stationary, progressive, or retrograde. 
 
 During an absence of between two and three years, I 
 was only sensible of having become more self-sustained. For- 
 mer intimates appeared as I had left them ; perhaps it is al- 
 ways so with those who remain stationary : their topics of 
 conversation were of course different, being influenced by 
 the aspect of the times, but their minds had undergone no 
 change. They reminded me of my companions at Greenock, 
 when I first returned from London. For myself, undoubt- 
 edly, I cared less for the circumstances in which I found in^ 
 dividuals than I had done before, and had loss reverence for 
 condition: the appliances of life had lost much of their effect 
 on me. The world seemed, however, unchanged as it were in 
 its contour, but every thing appeared invested with a new 
 light. 
 
 By my visit to Greenock, I learned from my brothe^'s let- 
 ters that his prospects had rather faded, and being intent on 
 my Levant speculation, I determined not t j proceed in the study 
 of the law — an equivocal determination. Had 1 sat down in 
 chambers, and addicted myself to literary pursuits, my life 
 would have become more equable and quiet. But the total want 
 of patronage was ever before me, and I saw it might be im- 
 possible to claim from my brother that pecuniary assistance 
 which would be required during'my studies for the bar. 
 
 1 
 
 f 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 :.m'i- 
 
 157 
 
 , On reaching London, 1 resolved to proceed witli my Levant 
 scheme, and took the earliest opportunity of ascertaining if 
 Mr. Canning (Sir Stratford) had made any communication on 
 the subject to the foreign office,* as I conceived tliat commu- 
 nication essential to my project. Tlie result of my inquiries 
 was a negative, whicii determined me to wait till his letters 
 were received. At the same time I was indignant to observe 
 how little attention was paid at the otfice to an objuct evi- 
 dently important ; and T was not very remiss in making the 
 gentleman I spoke to, understand wliat impression his indif- 
 lerence made on me. 
 
 Some two or three days aftur, I was surprised by receiving 
 a visit from the now well known Mr. liuine. I knew iiioj be- 
 fore ; but not intimately. The object of his visit, tiiough it 
 seemed one of mere courtesy, was to ascertain what .' ''.J 
 expected from the foreign office towards the cstablishin of 
 my plan. In consequence I concluded that letters hav ' i 
 received from Mr. Canning, but, tinding myself disappointed 
 of support in the quarters I expected, and the repulsive cold- 
 ness witli which the design was received, I told Mr. Hume 
 that I had nothing to ask.f 
 
 When I fjund myself in this state of disappointment, and 
 not very well knowing what to do, I resolved to publish my 
 Travels, and wiiile the proofs were going through the press?, 
 accepted an invitation to stay with Dr. 'i'illnch to avail myself 
 of his assistance in correcting tboiii. With him 1 staid till 
 the work was finished, and then removed into lodgings, de- 
 termined in my own mind to follow a very sc(pu>wt',red course 
 
 * I find the followinp note:— 
 
 "■2il March, (811 —Mr. (^"amiins meniinnod to mi; this cvflnins, that he wns 
 iiboiu to prufKiHe a plan lo ffovfriiin.iii jelalivi to tho An uipHlauo. and said 
 that lie wcitild t«'coiniiiHiici me lo l)»' plai cd at the hwiil of it For this puriiose 
 he took my uddrtss hiKli iii i,i>iid<>ii and iii s^ruilawd." 
 
 t I.iimy h«'re iiicntton ii<cideiiiaily thiii my plan ofconvevinfj LMods inin (he 
 continent, by Turkey, was arttTward-i partly car. icd into t'lVHt;t hy oihnrs with 
 areai profit ( \va«, however, !iurpris»d lo heiir Mr. Canuii.i iinMilion thai th« 
 bro.hfr, I hehfive, of rli" t'f'iiih^maii wlioiii I was lo nit'H aiOrsn-va, and wm 
 by disappoiiitina ru<! I shull always regard as the taiisr of my t^cheine noi be- 
 ini? car. icd iiiio etliict, hud iiiidei valiifd to hhn i's pructira'dlity Ai this time 
 having abatid()iie<l ih»- phin ( saul iioi hinu, hnl i wrnty years iifur, I rf iiicinher it 
 with a iiriid-jp, tor althon>,'h a very prohlaldL- liusincss was carriid on, ii waa 
 far shoii of tlio comprehensive pr. j.-ct I hud formed, and whicli perliaps I may 
 he induced yet to piiMivh. 
 
 o 
 
mf 
 
 156 
 
 THB AVTOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 
 of life. I do not say that I thought the gentlemen wrong to 
 whom I made my plan known, but I was much dissatisfied 
 with the whole manner in which the business was received, 
 and the aspect of things around me was not very promising. 
 During this period 1 renewed my acquaintance witi Lord 
 Byron, who had returned home. 
 
 Whether it was about this time he showed me the papers 
 of the first sale of Newstead, I do not now recollect; but re- 
 member very well, when he did, that I expressed my surprise 
 that he should think of convert '.ng to his own use the proceeds 
 of a property which belonged lo the heirs of the family rather 
 than to himself. ' ' ' •* 
 
 One day wiien we dined together in the St. Alban's Coffee- 
 house, which stood near Waterloc-place, his Lordship was 
 very ^much agitated having been on a consultation with his 
 lawyer respecting a libel on his mother, published, if I recol- 
 lect right, in the Satirist. An expression in the libel, which 
 he quoted,wa8, that it would be proved he was the illegitimate 
 son of a murderer. I advised hira to take no notice of the 
 libel, for his having been received into the House of Lords 
 was pioof enoucrh of the falsehood; adding that it was vexing 
 himself to read such things, and that 1 never wilfully read 
 any thing libellous on my friends. 
 
 He became more paciried,'and I heard no more of the trans- 
 action, though he was in the practice of occasionally calling 
 at my lodgings as he went to the House of Lords, to give 
 me a frank. 
 
 There was, however, about this extraordinary young noble- 
 man something that, even while he was agreeable, rhccke« 
 all confidence ; for though his temper was not decidedly bad, 
 it was skinless and capricious, and I was not always in an hu- 
 mour to accord that indulgence which he constantly required. 
 Of all men I have ever known, he had the least equanimity, 
 and yet in his felicitous moments he was singularly amusing, 
 often interesting. To me there was an agreeable excitement 
 frequently produced by hk conversation, but he claimed more 
 deference than I was disposed to grant. The fault might 
 
JOH#OALT.' 
 
 — 159 
 
 ttong to 
 leatisfied 
 eceivcd* 
 omising. 
 ti Lord 
 
 } papers 
 ; but re- 
 surprise 
 proceeds 
 ily rather 
 
 *s CoflTee- 
 iship was 
 with his 
 f I rccol- 
 el, which 
 legitimate 
 ice of the 
 ) of Lords 
 as vexing 
 fully read 
 
 the trans- 
 y calling 
 s, to give 
 
 however bo mine, for certainly, in proportion as a superiority 
 is assumed, I have all my life risen against it This v/eak- 
 ness with men of the world may be laughable,but to those^who 
 are only half and half it seems presumptuous: I am as well 
 aware as any man can, be, that it sets up the hair on the 
 backs of those who plume themselves on their birth or fortune. 
 
 M. 
 
 H 
 
 e. 
 
 jng noble- 
 rheckfec 
 dedly bad, 
 
 in an hu- 
 f required, 
 quanimity, 
 Y amuising, 
 jxcitement 
 imed more 
 
 ult might 
 
I) 
 
 160 
 
 «»-*'-f 
 
 THE AU 
 
 
 APHY OF 
 
 ••v-'i'. •■■ ' 
 
 CHAPTER II. :* 
 
 Critiques on my Travels, My brother^s opinion. Poli- 
 tical predictions. Their fulfilment' ^, 
 
 The publication of my Voyages and Travels was in some sort, 
 an era. The volume was rather handsomer than common, and 
 it was printed witliout the mediation of a bookseller, a mode of 
 proceeding by which I may not have reaped any pecuniary 
 advantage; but my manuscripts are all such scrawled and 
 blotted things, that nobody would read them in their original 
 state. My custom since is to write and print simultaneously, 
 and to go to press when there is'about a sheet of copy ready. 
 
 Of the opinions expressed by the different critical periodi- 
 cals, 1 have now no remembrance ; for I have had always in 
 private more severe critics than " the executioners in masque," 
 and their strictures have hardened me to endure the animad- 
 versions of the others, even when thev seemed to think I had 
 offend'^d, as if publication hnplied an obligatioajto buy against 
 tiieir will. What the Quarterly Review said, r know not. 1 
 have never read it ; for being out of town at the time the 
 number was published, my slioulders escaped the flagellation 
 but ' have always understood it was very bad, and that through 
 mistake 1 v/as treated as a whig. The Edinburgh, if this 
 report be true, must have been really better, for I do not re- 
 m(Miii)er that it spoke at all of my supposed politics. Upon 
 the whole I was pleased with it, for in those days I was sim- 
 pletoii enough to believe that reviewers posseti^ :*d more tiian 
 common acumen and more accurate information than most 
 men. Sut before the number of the Review appeared, my 
 ecjuanimily was put to deperate proof A friend was sitting in 
 the advocate's library, in Edinburgh, looking at my book, 
 when .Teffrey ca)ne in, and turning over a few pages, said, it 
 seemed to show some grasp of mind, an expression that gave 
 
 I!, 
 
JOHN OALf. 
 
 161 
 
 me cause to hope the sentence would be mild. I hnd prepared 
 myself 'for severity, and this accidental anti-trial judgment 
 discomposed me, for although I had not the information direct 
 myself, there was every reason to believe it correct, and that 
 there was a favourable leaning in that quarter towards me, 
 especially when informed by Park that an application had 
 been made to him to write a critique. However, in the end 
 he had not the courage, and declined it on prudential motives. 
 From that time I gave up all expectation of receiving any 
 hitch of help in literature, more than in business; but I was 
 mortified, for by this time I had begun to suspect that a good 
 word was as useful to custom in book-making, as in any other 
 trade. 
 
 Although the volume of my Voyages and Travels was not 
 received as a phcenix, with any particular laud and admira- 
 tion from the other birds and fowls of the same element, the 
 reception, as evinced by the sale, was satisfactory, and it still 
 lives though it sleeps, for I sometimes hear of it turning in the 
 curtained obscurity to which it has been consigned. I should not, 
 however, omit to mention, as it was a sort of first book, that I 
 derived particular pleasure from an opinion "expressed on it, 
 which 1 knew was really worth something, for its honesty at 
 least; I allude to what my brother thought of it, for on his 
 judgment I had great reliance. His letter was as follows: 
 
 " lloiiduraa, 14tli .tune, J812. 
 
 " I received your letter of 22d January, accompanied with 
 your first publication, the perusal of which has afforded me 
 a great deal of pleasure; and those who have read if, and for 
 whose opinion I have any regard, have returned it to me with 
 favourable reports it certainly contains much information of 
 places, which, though known to every one by general descrip- 
 tion, were still to be familiarized by that comparative view 
 with well known objects at home which gives the most cor- 
 rect idea of places at a distance ; but it may perhaps be object- 
 ed, that some of your comparisons have too much locality to 
 render them generally understood. Your description of the 
 characters, manners, and mode of living of the people you 
 
 2 
 
162 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 have travelled amongst, is,in my opinion, the best part of your 
 work. I can almost fancy myself as much acquainted with 
 your Turks and Greeks as if I had accompanied you. I do 
 not rpinember any work where the writer introduces you so 
 fdinilinrly to the natives, and makes an intimate acquaintance 
 of you. You, with all the license of familiarity, do find fault 
 and complain of bad dinners and bad beds, mortifications 
 which seem to have attended a great part of your journey, 
 and to which custom did not appear to reconcile you. * * 
 In (lutes and distances of places you are inexcusably negligent. 
 I do not like, either, your mode of dividing the book. Your 
 moveniontis are too rapid to follow your route on the map; 
 you are landed in Sicily, before we know you intended to em- 
 bark from the country " where tlie inhabitants still wear 
 skins." Your " political reflections" are ill calculated to awa- 
 ken conviction to the minds of men made up of "files and 
 precedents," or to alter t!uit grovelling opposition to the fijr- 
 midable antl overwhelming continental system which crushes 
 tjie impotent attempts that have been hitherto made agamst it, 
 jind which there is little reason to believe will be rendered 
 more eft'ectual, when the only members of administration who 
 might be expected to adopt something more decisive are retir- 
 ing in disgust." * ' 
 
 I did not remombor the political reflections a; this time, un- 
 til there was occasion to refer from my brotlier's letter to as- 
 certain from rlie book its^elf to what he alluded ; but it was a 
 pHftofthe work to wiiicij the Edinburf^h Review particularly 
 reft' rred, and ndverled to it as (ieserving of attention. It re- 
 arlly appears i.ow, thai: the predictions have acquired an air of 
 veracity which did not strike me at the time, and there is 
 a passage to whicii, probably, the reviewer referred, that 
 seems more like raflections after the events had taken place, 
 than anticipations. Itisiliis: — 
 
 "The conspiracy of kings against mankind is supposed to 
 have been arranged on or before 12th of January last (1811); 
 but the very na*ure of the policy of the British nation will, 
 more than her njnis, eiiable her to overcome this hydra. Her 
 
 i 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 163 
 
 allies are now mankind ; and the superiority of a commercial, 
 over a njilitary system, begins to be aci<nowledged by tlie 
 most fanatical worshippers of French glory. 
 
 "The aim of a commeicial system is to maintain the ex- 
 isting state of things, because security is essential to the progh 
 perity of commerce, and without some assurance of perma- 
 nency in the circumstances under which commercial projects 
 are formed, they are never prosecuted with the activity 
 requisite to success. But the security necessary to com- 
 merce does not imply that the existing state of things should 
 be forcibly maintained ; on the contrary, only this, that it 
 should not be suddenly altered, for the tendency of a com- 
 mercial system is to improve the existing state of things, and 
 improvemetit is not at variance with, but is the food of ttabili- 
 ty. The military systcjm is HhHtnted by the condition of 
 the mhabitants of Holland, Germany, Italy, Spain, and wher- 
 ever the French arms have been curried. The commercial 
 system is seen in Malta and Sicily, und is remembered wherev- 
 er the British manufactures liuve had access. But that cruel 
 coercion which has sent from the shores of so many slates ao 
 many harmless and helpless beings, cannot long endure; each 
 individual victim of that bigotry which persecutes industry 
 even with fire and fago'ot has his desire of comfort and of dis- 
 tinction as strongly as the infatuated princes of the continent, 
 but it is not in the nature of things that this desire should not 
 manifest itself. It is, however, not against the wretched dis- 
 ciples of tiio prophet of oppression that the wrath of mankind 
 •hould be directed, it is against that nation which for a vain- 
 glorious purpose is the innate enemy of all that is just, venera- 
 ble, and holy; until France be reduced again to a moderate 
 condition, there can he no moral advancement^ 7io hope of 
 prosperity tj the continent of Europe, * 
 
 " But in wliat manner is Great Britain to render her pres- 
 ent vantage ground available ; by what means are we to re- 
 ceive and embody with our own strength those innumerable 
 individuals over tiie continent, who long to embrace and to 
 promote our cause ; how are the phj/sical, moral, and social 
 
164 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPHY Or 
 
 qualities of mankind to be so amalgamated as to produce po 
 litical effects 1 Only by Great Britain proclaiming her re- 
 solution to maintain an insular empire in opposition to the con- 
 tinental system, to avow that all the islands over which her 
 jurisdiction has not yot been extended, are only not hers 
 because she has not found it convenient to take possession of 
 them, and that what she does take possession of she will 
 maintain to the utmost, and consider as integral parts of her 
 empire never to be ceded by treaty, never to be separated but 
 by the sword. Oi the utility of such policy we have proof and 
 experience in the state of our relations with Turkey, What 
 protects the remnants of our Levant factories in that paralyzed 
 realm from being expelled like our otiier merchants from the 
 rest of Europe, but the known conviction on the mind of the 
 French ruler, that the moment we are obliged to consider the 
 Sultan as an enemy, separates from the Ottoman empire the 
 populous and fertile islands of the Ionian and Levant seas 1 
 With this fact before our eyes ought we not to carry our views 
 still further, and to look forward to what would be a decisive 
 avowal of our insular sovereignty, the natural necessary con- 
 sequence of our maritime power. Nations have not triburals 
 of justice like men in society, power among them is the cri- 
 terion of right, and those who deny this principle, doubt the 
 dispensations of providence : the circumstances of ihe times 
 and of our affairs call on us to look boldly at principles, and to 
 act with decision." 
 
 I quote the preceding reflections to show what was then 
 the current of my thoughts. The event has come to pass 
 that was predicted from the nature of things ; the insolent 
 French system has been turned into derision, and the apostle of 
 national perdition"^ is buried in the cleft of a rock in the mid- 
 dle of the liberated sea. 
 
 f 
 
 i: 
 
 .-* 
 
 • Rather nstr.inire iirwl nncoiirrenns prrii'hra>e for d' pienHting Nnpolonn, 
 Kniperor of Pniticc and Kinguf Ituly— warrior, Itgltilator, and conqueror uf 
 natione.— Edit. 
 
xluce po 
 ig her re- 
 the con- 
 which her 
 not hers 
 session of 
 : she will 
 rts of her 
 Birated but 
 proof and 
 r. What 
 paralyzed 
 from the 
 nd of the 
 isider the 
 npire the 
 int seas ? 
 tur views 
 decisive 
 sary con- 
 triburals 
 the cri- 
 loubt the 
 he times 
 s, and to 
 
 if&s then 
 
 to pass 
 
 insolent 
 
 postle of 
 
 the mid- 
 
 iiquemr of 
 
 JOHN WALT 
 
 165 
 
 '. CHAPTER in. . ' 
 
 Transit trade throuij;h Turkey, do hark to (ilhraltar. R - 
 turn to London. Marry. Adventure with Mrs. Mary 
 Ann Clarke. 
 
 About this time I heard that tho goods by the caravan of 
 camels, wliich I had conducted to Widdin, had arrived safe at 
 their destination, and that tiiere was secretly a niont proHtablo 
 commercial mtercourse g<*ini; on in tho ronte I had opened up 
 between Salonica by way of Sophia to Widdin. The news 
 gave me great pleasure, and at the same time excessive pain, 
 tor there wore many circums^tances connected with the pro- 
 ject that convinced me I might think good thoughts, but had 
 not the luck to carry them into effect. 
 
 In this slate of fluctuating feeling, Alr.Kirkman Finlay was 
 in London, and explained to me that his house had some in- 
 tention of establisiiing a brancii at Gibraltar, Spain being then 
 overrun by tho French; and proposed to provide for me in 
 it. This proposition was one, for different reasons, the most 
 acceptable that could bo made, for although burning with 
 indignation at the manner in which I had been allowed to 
 incur dan2"er and vexation at Widdin, I could not conceive 
 that the manner in wliich I had Committed the caravan to the 
 care of a Greek, could be oiiiorwise than unpleasant. But it 
 has been my fortune, however meagre in the re&ultp, to bring 
 me in connexion with honourable specimens of human na- 
 ture. I therefore closed at once with Mr. Finlay, and was 
 ultimately sent to Gibraltar with another gentleman. 
 
 The nature of our business was not such as I would have 
 preferred, but in my circumstances it was agreeable, and a 
 connexion with Mr. Finlay's house, with many of the partners 
 of which I was personally acquainted, was of all things, as it 
 seemed, a stroke of good fortune; but 1 soon saw in the busi- 
 
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 WHSTER.N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
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166 
 
 THC AUTOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 neps at Gibraltar I would be out of my element; for, unfor- 
 tunately, I never in my life have been able to lay my heart 
 to any business whatever in which the imagination had not a 
 share. Part of the plan received a sudden check by the victo- 
 rious career in the Peninsula of the Duke of Wellington, and 
 1 do not exaggerate my feelings when I say that I repined at 
 his victories. His triumphal entry hito Madrid was the death 
 of my hopes, but there wan no decent pretext ibt coming 
 away, so I staid there several months ; at last, however, I 
 found myself obliged by necessity to return to London for sur- 
 gical advice ; and yet it was with me absolutely a struggle 
 whether to endure the progress of a vital disease, or to take 
 this step. At last the love of life predominated, and I came 
 home equally chagrined with the complexion of my fortunes 
 and depressed with my malady. What added to my humilia* 
 tions was, that a triend who conceived he might address him- 
 self freely to me, soon afler, in total ignorance of the case, 
 wrote to me a letter, implying great imprudence in my con- 
 duct for coming home. Immediately, by return of post, I 
 wrote hi(n an account of the whole affitir, and the diseased 
 condition of myself, which £ had not revealed to any peri^i 
 but the late Mr. Lynn, the celebrated surgeon, of Westminster. 
 
 Returning I inclosed the reproachful letter and tellhig him 
 that if afler what he had said he could verily the imprudence 
 with which be charged me, I begged he would consider our 
 friendship as at an end. It would be great injustice not to 
 say that he very frankly acknowledged the error into which 
 he had fallen, by having listened too credulously to a report 
 which he had received from a mutual friend. It would be 
 too much in the professional style of a novelist to paint the 
 effects of the scene his letter produced, for I could not disguise 
 to myself that, however appearances might in future be pre- 
 served, the confidence of an early friendship was no more.— 
 I therefore will not attempt to describe with what emotion I 
 embodied the feelings of the moment in the following verses, 
 but I felt upon me the heavy hand of misfortune to which only 
 I reluctantly acknowledged disease superior. 
 
 '0 
 
JOHN OALT. 167 
 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 ' 1 If *tis old age to'niope alone, 
 
 Fortune, hope, health, and friendahip gone, 
 Returned Troin viewing manjr a clime, 
 And reading but to kill the tiiae. 
 With wat'ry eye, and bosom cold. 
 Friends, that weie mine,— am 1 not old 1 
 
 It happened soon after, that Prince K— ^cameto London, 
 attended by a nephew of the famous Prince P and a Mr. 
 C , both very agreeable pers()n8. P was in indiffer- 
 
 ent health, but he occasionally elanced gleams of mind very 
 brilliant With the Prince I was constantly engaged. He 
 was indefatigable in the pursuit of knowledge, and when able 
 to go about, I did all in my power to assist him. An anecdote 
 deserves to be preserved. One day when going down St. 
 Jameses Street, he remarked a pair of those zigzag kind of scic^ 
 sars in a cutler's window, and inquired what they were. 1 
 eould give him no explanation, so we went into the shop to- 
 gether, and the man explained their use. When we returned 
 into the street, the Prince observed that trifling as the incident 
 was, it gave him a clearer idea of the wealth and luxuries 
 of England than any thing he had yet seen. — '* Here," said he 
 ** is an article of refined luxury, the uses of which a person 
 of my rank never heard of. How many things may your na- 
 tion spare, before you can be brought so low as the level of 
 the continent !" 
 
 I introduced his highness to Lord Byron, and we went with 
 his lordship to the Royal Institution, when Campbell delivered 
 that lecture on poetry in which he describes the ship, and 
 quotes an often repeated passage of Akenside*s ** Pleasures 
 of the Imagination." A great crowd ^being at the door and 
 on the stairs when we came out, the Pi^ince stepped into one 
 of the libraries, and calling for Akenside's volume, read the 
 passage twice over which Campbell had repeated, and turning 
 round met a nobleman, whose title I have forgot, and repeated 
 to him by heart his newly acquired quotation of fully a page. 
 
 During this visit to England, he happened to be at Lady 
 H 's assembly when Lady Caroline Lamb attempted 
 
 
 41 
 
168 
 
 THK AVTOBIOORAPHY OF 
 
 her mock tragedy with a jelly-glass or scissors, for the con- 
 tumely of Lord Byron. Next morning the Prince told me 
 with much laughter the whole affair, and that he was speaking 
 
 at the time to Lord P . But the poor woman was surely 
 
 mad. I do not think the sympathy for her was very ardent 
 
 While his highness was engaged on a tour in the country, I 
 was married. The ceremony took place on a Tuesday, but 
 on the Saturday before, I met with a most amusing adventure. 
 
 Still staying at the Craven Hotel, who should visit mc but 
 the famous Mrs. Clarke, in her carriage. I spoke to her 
 laughingly, and she said that she had come from no less a per-' 
 sonage than Mr. Cadell, the bookseller in the Strand, where 
 she had been for my address; and though she declined to 
 write, she invited me to call on Sunday, as she had something 
 very particular to say. What Mrs. Clarke could have to say, 
 tickled my imagination, and I promised to come. She lived 
 then in a street off Baker Street or Gloucester Place, and 
 upon going to the house, the footman ushered me into the din- 
 ing-room, where a gentleman was standing alone with his hat 
 on. Presently he went away, and the servant, who had taken 
 my name up stairs to his mistress, conducted me into the back 
 drawing-room, where she was sitting with her two daughters, 
 who immediately left the apartment. 
 
 She then told me that she had been induced to call upon me 
 in consequence of hearing that my Life of Cardinal Wolsey 
 was dreadfully abused by Mr. Croker in the Quarterly Review 
 and she thought I would be glad to be revenged. I only re- 
 peat what she said, never troubling myself with thinking whe- 
 ther .her intelligence was false or true; but after telling me 
 this, she gave one of her knowing smiles, and said she was 
 surprised to see me so young a man, and so dressed, for she 
 understood I was an old Scotch clergyman. 
 
 ..«-S4^i»- 
 
SKUBH G&LT. 
 
 I6d 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 interview toitk Mrs. Clarke. Ptrute her paper*. AdvUt 
 her to suppress her publication. Some accoutU of ?ter. 
 Her separation, from the Duke of York, 
 
 Mes. Clarke then inquired if I had noticed the gentleman in 
 the parlour. The reply was, "not particularly." 
 
 "I wish you had,'* remarked she. 
 
 "Why]" said L 
 
 '^♦Had he his hat on T 
 
 **Yes; why do you ask these questional" 
 
 t* Because," replied she, "it was Sir Charles Stewart, (now 
 Marquis of Londonderry,) and since I once happened to say 
 to him that he looked better and younger with his hat on, he 
 constantly wears it in my house." 
 
 After this skirmishings seeing that 1 was not for her purpose, 
 she told me that she had been advised to consult me about a 
 publication of her life. " Oh, ho !" thought I, "this m an ef- 
 fect of Croker's criticism," and ) determined, in consequence, 
 to use all my address to get possession of her secrets ; so I told 
 her, point blank, she was in want of money, and that this 
 was an expedient to raise the wind. She confessed the truth, 
 and also that Lord C-r had paid her debts of seven thou- 
 sand pounds, and given her an annuity of foar hundred a year, 
 not to molest the Duke of York. To this I replied, that I 
 could give her no advice, unless she allowed me to see all her 
 papers. She consented ; and laying an armful on the table, 
 left me to peruse them. 
 
 My visit lasted upwards of six hours, in which I read over 
 the papers ; and it will be readily credited they were fit for 
 any thing but the public eye. When she returned to me, after 
 the perusal, I told her at once that the publication she intend- 
 ed was disreputable, and that her best way, as she had too 
 
 P 
 
170 
 
 THK AVTOBIOOBAPBT OF 
 
 much in her power, was to try if she could get the money sh€f 
 wanted by hook or crook from the Duke of York, for the pub* 
 lication must not go on. This led us to speak of the letters 
 which were published when the parliamentary inyestigation 
 
 took place ; and she affirmed that Mr. G , so well known 
 
 as the Duke's friend, had purloined the famous epistle about 
 the old queen. She also mentioned some diverting anecdotes 
 of others. — ^I asked what had become of Colonel Wardle. — 
 Her reply was characteristic and amusing: — *^Oh !'* said she, 
 " the wretch has taken to selling milk in Tunbridge, or at 
 Tunbridge Wells."* 
 
 I could not at the time give much heed to her affairs, but 
 I advised her strongly to suppress the book, and get what 
 money she wanted in any other expedient way. The result 
 was the suppression of her memoiris; afterwards, if I recol- 
 lect right, she went to some watering place, and subsequent- 
 ly fibroad. What became of her I nev-er well heard, but 
 she went to Italy; and one of hereon mots on the society 
 in the town where she staid, was reported to me as a good 
 thing, by an old friend, namely that she did not think fit to 
 associate with the inhabitants on account of the laxity of 
 their morahl 
 
 It may be expected that I should give some account of this 
 celebrated woman, nor am I disinclined, for my recollection 
 of her is very vivid. 
 
 She had certainly no pretensions whatever to beauty, though 
 there was a life and intellectuality in her eyes sparklingly 
 airreeable. She dressed with what I would call much taste 
 
 remarkably neat, plain, and clean; and generally with a bare 
 
 head. Her hair was almost black. She possessed great pow- 
 ers of conversation, was often witty, and suddenly surprised 
 you witK flashes of shrewdness seldom seen in woman. Her 
 
 * To many or our i(>ader8 these allusions may not be Readily understood. 
 We would therefore btietly 8tate,thatin 1809 Colonel Wardle, a member, in 
 the lK>uao of Commons charged the Dulce of York with hnvine, as commander 
 in chief of tlie British Army, sutfeied a female favorite (Mrs. Clarl<e) to 
 irafllc in commiseions, and to sell tbein to unworthy persons, and also to ob- 
 Tnln promotion for her friends, who had previously pnrcliased her pood officer. 
 The dulte, though not believed by the bouse to be personally implicaied in 
 tUeae corruptions, thought proper to resign his post on tbt occasion.-- FniTen 
 
VOHN OALT. 
 
 m 
 
 mind was decidedly mascaline, and she read hoaikn of what 
 maybe called the male kind. But it was not by know- 
 ledge that she made herself agreeable. On the contrary, her 
 general conversatiou had very few literary allusions; her 
 great forte lay in the discernment of character, and in strip 
 ping pretensions. She told me, that during her examinations 
 in the House of Commons, with all the apparent presence of 
 mind she was supposed to evince, she was very much agita- 
 ted. 
 
 The scene she described of her separation from the Duke 
 was exceedingly graphic. — The first that she heard of his 
 intention not to come again, was delivered to her by a gen- 
 tleman whose name I shall not repeat, because I am not sure 
 of being correct He came, however, to her in a hackney- 
 coach, which he left standing for him at the door. — When 
 shewn up into the front drawing-room she was sitting near 
 the window, and he immediately began to deliver his com- 
 mission. She was at first astonished, for there had been 
 no quarrel with the Duke. She then reflected on having a 
 large establishment of servants and no money; but she be- 
 gan, as the gentleman proceeded, to feel a woman^s scorn, 
 and when he had completed the object of his visit, instead of 
 making him any answer, she looked out at the window, and 
 observing the hackney-coach, rose and rung the bell. The 
 butler answered it, and with ail the gravity that she could 
 assume, she inquired: "What lew person has dared to 
 come to my house, and leave his hackneycoach at the door? 
 Send it away !" 
 
 ** Madam," said the ambassador, " I came with it, and it 
 waits me." 
 
 " For you !" exclaimed Mrs. Clarke, "then instantly get out; 
 lor if you say another word to me, I will order the footmen to 
 toss you in a blanket!" She was by this time in a boiling 
 passion, and the gentleman immediately withdrew. 
 
 I inquired respecting the Duke's character, and to her cred- 
 it, she spoke of him witli much kindness and respect. The 
 wo ^eatest faults she could lay to his charge were a cer- 
 
 i 
 
 ■* 1 
 
172 
 
 THE AVTOBIOOBAPHT OF 
 
 tain mauvaite honte that made him averae to sirangers, aad 
 a love of good eatingr->AraDiig other things, she mentioned 
 that George the Third made a rich present of jewels to 
 the Princess of Wale^» which Kundell and Bridge sent to 
 the house one Saturday for the Duke to take to Windsor. — 
 This was a temptation she could noi resist. Accordingly, 
 ahe decked herself with the royal gems, and went that night 
 with them to the Opera. Next morning his Royal High« 
 nesB delivered them to the king at Windsor. 
 
 At this distance of time, I do not recollect a tithe of the an» 
 ecdotes she told me, but my acquaintance with her contin* 
 ued, and some of her stories respecting George the Fourth 
 were very racy. Of the Duchess of Yoik she always spoke 
 with respect, but I think she had no particular anecdotes to 
 tell of her, from which I inferred that she kpew little about 
 her. Towards Colonel M'Mahon she had certainly some- 
 thing of an antipathy, for although she spoke of him with bit- 
 terness, I could never recollect any particular story which 
 she related to his disadvantage. The fact is, that Mrs. Clarke 
 did not possess that extraordinary fiiscination which posterity 
 may suppose from the incidents in which she was engaged, 
 but she was undoubtedly clever, with a degree of tact that 
 either in man or woman would have been singularly acute.. 
 
 j'» 
 
lOHir «ALT. 
 
 173 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Death of my brother. A legacy. A lawsuit. Hastening on 
 the end of the world. 
 
 Soon after my marriage, at leaet there was no influential 
 incident between, I was visited with a great misfortune in 
 the death of my brother. The intelligence came unexpected- 
 ly, and there was no mjtigation to the stroke, unless it could 
 be described as such, that having resolved to be no longer an 
 adventurer, but to endeavour to confine myself to a very se- 
 questered lot, it did not occasion, as it might have done, any 
 pecuniary inconvenience. — This is necessary to be stated, be- 
 cause the course of proceeding adopted towards his efiecta 
 did credit to my father's goodness of lieart, and I venture 
 to think no dis])aragement to mine. 
 
 By the event of the death taking place in a colony, the old 
 gentleman was the heir, but there were circumstances at that 
 time which rendered him delicate in his proceedings towards 
 
 Mr. R , who had been so friendly in the crisis of his 
 
 sons, and, in consequence, if he ever caused any investiga- 
 tion of my brother's affairs to be made, it is more than I knew, 
 or have since heard of, or have any reason to believe. I on- 
 ly state the fact, with a comment which I feel justified in mak- 
 ing, that this course was adopted from motives of gratitude, not- 
 withstanding the importance at that time of any addition to 
 tlie narrow means of the family. 
 
 It is no doubt true, that in the loss of a very promising young 
 man there was quite enough to grieve for, without any pecu- 
 niary consideration ; but still 1 do think that the transaction 
 was exemplary, and I record it as an instance of the confi- 
 dence and kind of feeling which in the family wo were taught 
 to cherish ; nor was it solitary, but a link in a sei-ies whic!i 
 has never been broken, and which has recently proved as 
 strong as ever. In the latter occurrence alluded to, as I had 
 
 r 2 
 
174 
 
 mi AOTOMOOBAPHT Or 
 
 no part, it would be irrelevant to apeak here ; bat there waa 
 an early tranaaction which, though ludicroua, waa pregnant 
 with a aerioua leaaon, and which ariaea freah on my recollec- 
 tion, tending to ahew how my iather*8 children were taught 
 to regard mattera of money aa aecondary thiioga. 
 
 Some diatant relation of my mother died, leaving such 
 aort of chattels and ** hainings** aa might be expected to her 
 kin. Aa my mother had a salutary abhorrence to bugs, she 
 verbally gave her share to my aunt, who went to law with 
 aome of the other relaticms, in which she came off victorious ; 
 or, as she announced in her letter to me on the occasion, by 
 ** overcoming principalities and powers," she not only estab- 
 lished her right to a larger portion of the furniture, but to a 
 ahare of what in Scotland is called ** Uie lying siller." 
 
 On hearing that there was money in the case, my mother, 
 in her droll peculiar way, began to insinuate that she had 
 never given the money, but only consented not to take the fur- 
 niture ; a sinister pretension that set all the children up in 
 arms against her, and my lather taking part in the argument, 
 we iairly got the better of her: the f ifl was fully confirmed* 
 with exultation, every one rejoicing laat we had WOTstedthe 
 old lady, which was not easily done, for her shifts in difficul- 
 ty were quite extraordinary. 
 
 Once, not long before her death, when I happened to be 
 at home on a visit, she made a long complaint to me of my 8is> 
 ter, who was in poor 'health, running, like more of the family, 
 after public societies ; among other indiscretions, she had be- 
 come secretary to a ladies* branch of a society for converting 
 the Jews. At this moment my sister came into the room, and 
 endeavoured to justify the proceeding ; but the old lady put 
 an end to tlie altercation by attacking the society itself. " A 
 society," said she, '* for converting the Jews ! it's dreadful 
 to think — a hastening on of the end of the world." 
 
 I must not, however, continue these domestic stories, even 
 though they naturally rise from the remembrance of circum- 
 stances connected with what to me was an important event 
 I say important, not fbr its visible results, but for tiiat cold vs* 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 175 
 
 eancy which it hu ever since left in my bosom. The death 
 of a friend is at all times an aflBicti<m which cannot be thought 
 of without sorrow ; but a peculiar anguish barbs the grief for 
 a brother that you had been taught to love from his birth, 
 and whose qualities in riper years you could not but esteem- 
 even in old age you remember his childhood. Infirm and ail- 
 ing as I am, deprecating death with art, the image of mine 
 comes back with hopes now withered : with him they bloomed. 
 
uo 
 
 THE A1JT0BI0«m.VFHY OF 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BxeurBxon to France. Stop at Rouen. Paris. Converta- 
 zione. Rnyal performance at the Theatre. BrtuieU, — 
 ILdlanJ. The Iinpjrial Russian Princes. 
 
 At the first restoration of Louis XVIIF. I visited the conti- 
 nent, actuated by a wish to find inducements to remain there ; 
 the public has nothing to do with the motive, especially as it 
 was an abortive scheme, and I was soon led to forego my 
 intention, nor was tho journey in its incidents such as to de- 
 serve particular commemoration. 
 
 I took my departure with another gentleman from Brigh- 
 ton for Dieppe immediately afler the capitulation of Paris 
 was known in London, but instead of proceeding direct to 
 the capita], I stopped two days at Rouen, chiefly to see 
 the state of the cotton manufactories in the suburb of De- 
 ville, established by Mr. Raul, who was then the Sir Robert 
 Peel of France, and who had been greatly prosperous under 
 Buonaparte. Having particular recommendations to that gen- 
 tleman, by whom I was kindly received, I had free access to 
 inspect all the works which the French deemed so wonder- 
 ful, but found them, afler having recently seen those of Glas- 
 gow and Manchester, very insignificant, nor was there any- 
 thing in the antiquities of the city to me particularly inter- 
 esting. 
 
 We then proceeded to Paris ; but there also, either I was 
 not in a humour to be entertained wil,h sights, or those I did 
 see were not striking, and accordingly I viewed the curios- 
 ities rather as a duty than as an enjoyment. There were to 
 my taste too many military shows, and a constrained civility 
 exerted by the inhabitants that could not be concealed. It was, 
 indeed, as the old women say in Scotland, a judgment-like 
 time; a moral chaos, afiecting enough to see, but not pleasant. 
 
JOHM OALT. 
 
 177. 
 
 I one day dined in the Palais Royale with a very small par- 
 ty ; but it was striking to be merely accidental. It consisted 
 of a gentleman from Canton, anotlior from the Crimea, a third 
 from St. Petersburgb, a fourth from America, and two British 
 subjects, all of whom I had known betbre. 
 
 Having letters to tlie two chief Librarians, they did me the 
 honour to invite me to something like a conversazione, which 
 woa held in the Royal Library ; but the party was not 'bril- 
 liant. One incident, however, at that time, was certainly 
 impressive. 
 
 When Louis XVIIL went to the theatre with the Duch- 
 ess of Angouleme for the first time, the play was one of the 
 series on the story of (Edipus ; I tbrget which, but when 
 the old man on the stage pathetically addressed Antigone, the 
 King rose and embraced the Duchess. No doubt there was 
 something of stage effect stu^lied in the scene in the royal box, 
 but it could not be witnessed without emotion. An universal 
 sob was heard through all the theatre at this part of the per- 
 formance, and I acknowledge myself to have been affected 
 by an exhibition extraordinary in its circumstances and cal- 
 culated to be profoundly touching. 
 
 From Paris we proceeded to Brussels, where we were 
 persuaded to remain several days, my friend having fallen in 
 with some acquaintances. Wc then went forward and spent 
 the afternoon with tho English officers in garrison in the cita< 
 del of Antwerp, and thence travelled to Holland. On the 
 road we were joined by my particular and regretted friend, 
 the late General Sir David Stewart of Garth. The circum- 
 stance whioh prevented him from being with us at Amster-. 
 dam is not reoolleoted, but an occurrence took place at the 
 theatre there, which is as deeply impressed on me as the 
 scene of Louis XVIH,, indeed it should be more so, and I 
 ought to cherish the remembrance with particular satisfiiction* 
 
 It happened that the two young imperial princes of Rusi 
 sia attended by a suite of veteran officers, came into tho 
 theatre. The present Emperor Nicholas and the Arch-duke 
 Miohael took their pUoes in the stage box, aqd i^t the di9« 
 
178 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY Of 
 
 tance of the second from it, a very fine old gentleman came 
 in and sat down by me. We entered into conversation, and 
 the greatness of England was the topic. After some time the 
 stranger rose and went to the princes and returned with them, 
 and I had the honour of a long interview, in which the pre- 
 sent Emperor took a more distinguished part than his broth- 
 er, but they both struck me at the time as very intelli- 
 gent superior lads, particularly the Archduke Nicholas? 
 who appeared to me to possess one of the most gently reg- 
 ulated minds I had ever met with. The nature of our con- 
 versation led me to express a wish that he would go to Eng- 
 land, and his reply was, I think, tor his situation, appropriate, 
 to the effect that it might be a pleasant journey, but it de- 
 pended on the will of the Emperor. 
 
 In this interview I hod constantly in remembrance George 
 TII.'s visit to Dr. Johnson, and conducted myself according- 
 ly. The princes and their suite being in plain clothes it was, 
 not proper particularly to recognize them, but although I 
 did know them I stood during the time of our conversation> 
 and never forgot the difference of our ranks. — When the 
 Emperor Nicholas was afterwards in London I met him at 
 Cliaring Cross, and he seemed by his look as if he recog- 
 nized mn ; a friend was with me who noticed the circumstance 
 likewise. But it is not necessary to enumerate the different 
 d stinguished persons I have chanced to fall in with during 
 the course of my life, I only make an exception in this in- 
 stance because I was unknown to the parties, and yet there 
 was something like an implied compliment in the interview. 
 
 
 V'l, 
 
 '■:iir 
 
 ■^^1 ..*_! fn7,^ 
 
 '.'?^fe' V 
 
 i^ y • ■" 
 
 tf-' " . 
 
 1 'T-V. 
 
aOlUf GALT. c 
 
 17» 
 
 ncame 
 Dn, and 
 me the 
 h them, 
 the pre- 
 is broth- 
 intelli- 
 Hcholas) 
 itly reg- 
 )ur con- 
 to Eng- 
 ropriate, 
 lut it de- 
 
 B George 
 scording- 
 s it was, 
 [hough I 
 rersationt 
 '^hen the 
 t him at 
 e recog- 
 iimstance 
 diiFerent 
 during 
 this in- 
 ject there 
 nterview. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Talk of a third theatre. A tragic event. The rejected 
 Theatre. New British Theatre. Performance of the Ap- 
 peal. Sir Walter Scott's play. 
 
 About the year 1813 and 14 there was a great talk among the 
 play goers anent the propriety of establishing a third theatre 
 in London, in which the representations should be more clas- 
 sically conducted than the shows and pageants which had 
 usurped the place of the regular drama. The inferiority of 
 the performances wao universally admitted, and imputations 
 of blame on the taste of the managers were very generally 
 repeated. Like others I was tainted with this heresy, and 
 with some apparent reason ; it was said that no attention was 
 paid to the merits of rejected dramas, and certainly it was 
 as difficult to obtain a proper hearing of a piece as to procure 
 a place under government, without interest. 
 
 In acceding to the prevalent notion, I had some experience 
 of the fact myself respecting the difficulty of obtaining candid 
 hearing of a new piece, because being now more inclined to 
 the quiet cultivation of literature than formerly, I had offered 
 to both theatres, the tragedy of " The Witness," and it was 
 returned to me with a rejection, although the state of the 
 manuscript gave me reason to believe that but little of it 
 was read. As the piece had some novelty of conception in 
 the principal character, and occasional flakes of poetry 
 strewed m the dialogue, I thought this treatment, which the 
 clamour for a third theatre seconded, very unworthy, and ac- 
 cordingly waited on Mr. Colburn and proposed to conduct a 
 monthly periodical to consist entirely of rejected dramas, and 
 to be called the rejected Theatre. 
 
 He being infected with the prevailing epidemic, adopted 
 the suggestion, and I in consequence prepared my Witness 
 
180 
 
 THE AUTOmOGRAPRT OP 
 
 and other dramas for publication ; believing from the gene* 
 ral rumour, that there would be no lack of brilliant material! 
 to attract attention to the work. 
 
 The first number was successful ; it ran through two ed^• 
 tions in the course of a few days ; but although the tragedy 
 was much praised in the weekly papers, I was not blind to the 
 fact, that the success was more owing to public curiosity than* 
 perhaps, to tlie poetical merits of the piece. 
 
 In the second number there was evidently a falling off in 
 the interest taken in the publication, and Mr. Colburn propo- 
 sed, that instead of the Rejected Theatre, the work should 
 in future be called the New British Theatre by which new 
 pieces, not offered to the play«houses, might be inserted, and 
 the blushes of those who were authors of rejected pieces 
 veiled. The suggested alteration in the title was plausible, 
 though not according to the idea upon which the original 
 work was projected. However, as it afiorded to myself an 
 opportunity of bringing out several pieces of my own, I ac- 
 quiesced in the proposed change, and if one may judge by the 
 character of the contributions afterwards, it was really judi- 
 cious ; for it would absolutely not be within the range of be- 
 lief to describe the sad efforts of genius which were after- 
 wards sent to me. 
 
 The New British Theatre contains the best selection that 
 could be made ; and supposing what passed under ray eye to 
 be a fair specimen of the unknown dramatic talent of the 
 age, I have no hesitation whatever in stating that the mana- 
 gers were completely vindicated in alleging that the decay 
 of the drama was not ownig to them, but to the wretched 
 productions they were compelled to bring forward. No doubt 
 they were partly correct, but still they were not justified 
 in pronouncing a veto on any piece unperuscd. I say not this 
 in spleen, for I am well aware that every dramatist believes 
 himself to be a little, not much, superior to Shakspeare ; I 
 freely confess, however, that I did think my own lucubration 
 deserving of a better fate, because it was afterwards per- 
 formed as " The Appeal" several times in Edinburgh, once in 
 
^^ 
 
 JOHN OALT. 
 
 181 
 
 my own presence at Greenock, many timed, under the name 
 ot " The Force of Conscience," at the Surrey Theatre, and 
 was even holioured by some country strollers with a dread- 
 ful exhibition in a barn. For as I deem the performance of a 
 tune on a street or^n to lie the criterion of popularity in 
 music, so I hold a dramatic representation in a barn to be the 
 ultimate appeal to the taste and judgment of a discerning 
 public. 
 
 But though this is said in melancholy mirth I yet contend 
 that my bantling was very ill-used ; many persons who stand 
 in matters of taste well with the public, would have given it 
 a good character. To be sure there has been one thing ve- 
 ry equivocal about it. When it was performed at Edinburgh, 
 the prologue, as I have since ""understood very lately, was a 
 joint production of Mr. Lockhart, and Captain Hamilton, the 
 author ofCyrirj'hornton, who, with the diffidence that belongs 
 to all parents of surreptitious gets, fathered it on Professor 
 Wilson, according to the then notorious maxims of mystifica- 
 tion peculiar to the " veiled assassins" of Blackwood. Tl^ 
 epilogue was written by Sir Walter Scott, and is not only ve- 
 ry beautiful, but the only piece of humorous poetry which, 
 as far as I am aware of, ever flowed from his pen : he 
 wrote me not to mention the circumstance, as he would be 
 pestered with applications; perhaps some of my critical 
 friends may say that he was ashamed of being accessary to 
 the perpetration of such an outrage as the performance of a 
 piece which the two grand London houses had rejected. But 
 the Baronet was a fellow-sufferer, for the sapient managers of 
 Covent Garden, at which the late Mr. Terry was then acting, 
 could not think of risking the representation of such a piece 
 as "the Legend of Aspen," for that I believe was its first name. 
 Long after, it was published in one of the Annuals, The 
 Keepsake, and contains a scene worth fifty pieces of Fanny 
 Kemble's patch-work, with all her samples to boot. 
 
 Seeing by the nature of the contributions to the New Brit- 
 ish Theatre, that it must be a failure, I cut and run : in fact, 
 there was not one drama remaining unpublished of all the de- 
 
 Q 
 
in 
 
 THB AVTOBIOORAPHT Of 
 
 plonble progeny that solicited admission into the almshouse. 
 
 But in sobriety I must say that if any opinion might be 
 formed of the pieces actually rejected by Drury Lane and 
 Covent Garden from those offered to me, it is no wonder that 
 the theatres are ruined. It is not in jocularity I state this, and 
 I know not how dramatic talent is to be revived ; perhaps its 
 excellence belongs to an epoch in the history of a language, 
 a semi-barbarous period, which has gone past with us never 
 to be recalled, like the beauty of the teedi and ringlets of 
 those elderly gentlewomen, who are tottering in desperation 
 to hide their fidse locks and irreparable fiices in oblivion and 
 the grave. 
 
 ^:^: 
 
 cbs^ 
 
 X 
 
 *.ft 
 
 .'*-' 
 
 
 ' t&^m- 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 18S 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 Hector-a cento in the New British Theatre. 
 
 The New British Theatre, however, cohtains one drama, the 
 neglect of which, does anything but reflect honour on the 
 taste of the age. Not having a copy of the work I had almost 
 forgot it. The piece of which I speak,is a cento from the Iliad, 
 compiled from the translations of Pope and Cowper, and is 
 without question an elegant and impressive tragedy. I had 
 no interest in it besides patching it together, but it is at least 
 equal in the beauty of versification, to any drama in the Eng- 
 lish language. My only claim to participate in the produc- 
 tion, is in changing the rhymes of Pope to blank verse. 
 
 This tQtal neglect: is truly inconceivable, but its rate re* 
 minds me of the story of the Roman actor. 
 
 Once a player acquired great fame at Rome for his ex- 
 traordinary mimickry of the squeaking of a pig. One of the 
 auditors stimulated by the applause, said he would let them 
 hear something much better on a certain day, and invited 
 them to come, which, they accordingly did, but when the actor 
 appeared wrapt in a mantle, the audience outrageously hissed 
 him for presumptuously attempting to rival the other. — 
 ** What judges you are of pigs* squeaking !" cried he, throw- 
 ing his cloak aside, and showing a real animal whose ear be 
 had secretly pinched. 
 
 But I claim no privilege to be severe on the taste of " the 
 swinish multitude," for I have been myself always too indiflfer- 
 ent a judge of what is likely to please the world in books. If 
 I hit the nail on the head at any time, it is purely accidental, 
 for I ever see the productions of friends through the medium 
 of friendship, and those of strangers with great indifierence 
 unless indeed they chance to please, which, for the sake of the 
 world, I am sorry to say is not often the case ; I would rather 
 
184 
 
 THE ACrrOBIOORAPHY OF 
 
 act, as a relation of mine did as a referee, than the judge af- 
 terwards appealed to. tie'ing called to decide which two of 
 the same degree of kin was the right heir, awarded a moiety 
 of the inheritance to each ; a decision which gave no satisfac- 
 tion, for the younger of the two cried out, that they could not 
 be both alike in their pretensions, and so to settle the business 
 they went to law: and the judge found the one who would have 
 aaeented to the award entitled of course to the whole. I 
 would rather adjudicate to the extent of the half of what 
 might be morally wrong, than run the risk of giving an 
 award for the whole, which might afflict, being legally right: 
 or, to speak to the point, I am much of the late Lord Brax- 
 field's disposition, as evinced in his reply to an advocate, who, 
 in speaking of the excellence of the judges whom Cromwell 
 sent to Eldinburgh, said that the justice of their awards bad 
 never been called in question. " De*il mean them to do jus- 
 tice,*' said his Lordship from the bench, " they had neither 
 kith nor kin in the country.** But to make an end, conscious 
 of being a bad critic, my opinion of a book is worth little; for 
 if the book is bad, I have not the heart to tell the author bo, 
 and if, on the contrary, it is good, it does not require my praise. 
 
 «t. 
 
 iff H , 
 4 
 
 II 
 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 185 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Caledbnuin Asylum* A sordid transaction. Go to Chreen^ 
 ocji* Return to London, 
 
 Hating settled myself as it were in my sphere, I sought nothing 
 but an even tenor in my ways. In this situation, I undertook 
 to assist in raising the funds which werO afterwards employed 
 in building and endowing the National Caledonian Asylum, 
 which stands a little to the north of Pentonville, in the fields. 
 In this business nothing was more gratifying than the first 
 labors, but their enjoyment was gradually diminished, and 
 particularly after the battle of Waterloo; to me, however, 
 they mustalways be interesting. At the institutary dinner, one 
 of the most splendid ever given in London, at which upwards 
 of seventy musicians were employed, and above two hundred 
 and seventy servants in livery attended, a great sum was 
 raised. The subscription exceeded five thousand pounds, and 
 the annual subecriptions were about four hundred. The 
 stewards* fund for the dinner yielded a large profit, and my 
 friend, Mr. Hamilton, who tooic charge of it, was highly pleas- 
 ed with the result. I«know not now, because I wish to for- 
 get the transaction,' how much he paid in of the surplus of tho 
 stewards* fund to the hospital, but it was a considerable sum, 
 not less, I thinic, than six hundred pounds. In the meantime, 
 it was determined to publish by subscription the music per- 
 formed at the dinner. As it was curious, we supposed it would 
 sell well at a guinea, especially as some of the songs were by 
 the first poetical characters of the age. And the members 
 of the committee and directors were subscribers to the publica- 
 tion. 
 
 Aa secretary, I employed Chappell, the musicHseller in 
 Bonct street, and a proper composer to arrange the airs.-— 
 From awne indolence, as I conceived it, the composer was 
 
 Q2 
 
 ;l 
 
tM 
 
 THE AVTOBIOOBAPHT OV 
 
 long about his task, and more than twelve noonths elapsed be* 
 fore the publlcalion wns ready. In the meantime the battle 
 of Waterloo had been fought. Men had ceased to think of 
 warlike enterprizes, and the subscribers to the Caledonian 
 Asylum were incorporated by act of parliament. So that 
 Mr. Chappell had only his claim against the members of the 
 committee. The directors felt the altered circumstanc'Ss, and 
 refused to recognize the debt, which amounted to two hun- 
 dred and seventy odd pounds ; on the pretext that I had no 
 resolution of the dinner committee, to show that I was, as se- 
 cretary, authorized by it, but I pointed to the subscription 
 paper. 
 
 I informed Mr. Chappell of the dilemma, and he was advised 
 by his lawyer to bring an action again the Caledonian Asylum 
 for the amount of his account. It was clear that, after the 
 debt had been contracted, the association had been incorporat- 
 ed, and therefore could nut be legally liable. — He subpsBnaod 
 me as a witness, butj as a membur of the committee, I might 
 have required my acquittal of the debt, befoi'e I gave evidence 
 yet I gave my testintony, fully aware of that circumstance, 
 and it was decided of course that the corporation was not lia- 
 ble.- -Knowing that the music seller had no chance of suc- 
 ceeding against the committee, immediately after the trial, 
 and before leaving the court, I told him that it he would 
 give me time enough I would assume the debt. To a propo- 
 sal of this kind he immediately acceded, and T afterwards 
 paid hirn out of my own pocket. I have never since looked 
 near the Caledonian Asylum, except once to sec the building; 
 for of all sordid things that I ever knew, it has appeared to me 
 that this was the meanest. But the times were altered in 
 which the project originated, peace prevailed, and *• Pharaoh 
 knew not Joseph." 
 
 After the first blush of prosperity with the Caladonian Asy- 
 lum was over, a proposal was made to me from Glasgow, to 
 procure a Liondon guarantee for shipments to Jamaica destined 
 for the Spanish colonies. The proposition was exceedingly 
 feasible, and my old friends Messrs. R- , I , and 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 Utf 
 
 Co. were induced to grant theirs. Accordingly, the scheme 
 was matured, but before it was carried into full effect, the 
 revolt of the Spanish colonies became inevtiable ; however, 1 
 removed to the neighbourhood of (ireenock with my family, 
 although conscious I was no longer fit for the place, and of 
 seeing a breaking up on all sides of the system on which the 
 plan' was formed. I lived a sequestered life at Finnart, near 
 the town, and practised as much as possible the manners I 
 recollected to have prevailed in the place; but of all my life, 
 that residence at Finnart was the most unsatisfactory. 
 
 Convinced that the scheme would end in smoke, and yet 
 not in a condition to communicate the apprehension to any 
 one, I accepted an offer made by the Union Canal Company, 
 to go to London to attend a bill fjr them, to which they antici- 
 pated a strenuous opposition; and being once more in the me- 
 tropolis, I felt no inclination to return. This distaste was not 
 occasioned by any thing that I had met with, but a consci- 
 ousness of being no longer the same sort of individual that I 
 had been in former days; for I received every attention that 
 eould be expected, but the change. which time and the world 
 had made, no longer rendered me susceptible of tho^e gratifi- 
 cations that had once endeared the place to my remembrance. 
 It wad not changed in any aspectable form, but my tastes had 
 undergone a great alteration; I had become much more 
 simple in my habits, and secretly " fashed" at many things in 
 which the tastes of an earlier period might have found plea- 
 sure. 
 
 ■i] 
 
186 
 
 nn AIJTOBIOORAFBT OF 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 RefiectioM. Agent for the Canada daimt Correipondenct 
 toi^h the Treasury. Interview at Fife House, Arrange' 
 ment. Not carried into effect. Go to Scotland Answer 
 from Canada. Further proceedings. 
 
 In the course of my chequered life I have often met with 
 ■udden and unexpected turns of fortune, such as the religious 
 call interpositions of Providence, in so much that I have^com- 
 paratively felt little daunted by the gloomiest indications; 
 indeed, the sentiment awakened by the dreadest aspects has 
 been ever more allied to provocation than fear, and I have aU 
 ways experienced something akin to what is advised below : 
 
 ** When evil falli, and you see all its Kope, 
 Truit to the native courage of your breast, 
 And mieh auxiliar aid a« fate may send, 
 ' To master the misfortune ; trust yourself, 
 
 And trust your destiny, for such begets 
 That self-possession which endures the shock 
 Of rough adversity, and lifts the man 
 Above the waves and currents of the time ; 
 But when the matter hangs in dread, and may 
 By strength or enterpiisc be yet repelled, 
 Then call your friends, take counsel, and take aid." 
 
 In the former of these predicaments, I was compelled to 
 throw myself on fortune, when the. most unexpected occur- 
 rence gave me new life. 
 
 I received letters from Canada appointing me agent for such 
 of the principal inhabitan^i as had claims to* urge for losses 
 during the invasion of the province by the armies of the Uni- 
 ted States. Mr. Ellice (the Right Hon. Edward Ellice, now 
 Secretary at W^r,) was to be my colleague , but as a member 
 of the House of Commons ho did not choose to act, and ano- 
 ther gentleman, retiring from businesSi found he could not. 
 I waf thus alone in the business. 
 
JOHN OiLT. 
 
 180 
 
 After a good deal of verbal communication with the Colo- 
 nial Office 1 was referred to the Treasury, and in answer to 
 my application there, received a very dignified evasion. It 
 was couched in language at onco guarded and appropriate* 
 An answer to this letter, seemed indispensable, though it 
 was drawn up in terms evidently intended to close the busi- 
 ness. After pondering on the subject for some time, I thought 
 it admitted of one way of treatment. 
 
 The Lords of the Treasury had evidently not rejected the 
 case, and, accordingly, after the maturest consideration, I 
 drew up an answer, in which I was not bird-mouthed m using 
 every argument that could at all be employed, even to the 
 contemplation of the colonists becoming rebels. 
 
 This impudent or magnanimous epistle brought a reply, 
 in which Lord Bexley suggested the propriety of writing to 
 Lord Liverpool to fix a time for an interview, when Earl Bath< 
 urst and himself would be present. Accordingly I sent a note 
 to his lordship, and an early day was fixed. 
 
 "When the lime arrived, Mr. Ellice went with me to Fife 
 House, for though he had declined to act, his aid and advice 
 were most efficient. At the interview it was agreed that a 
 loan should be raised for the liquidation of part of the claims, 
 and it was understood that I was to raise the money. A dis- 
 patch to the effect of this arrangement was to be sent by 
 Earl Bathurst to theLieutemnt-Governor of Upper Canada, 
 and as 1 had soon occasion to go to i^cotland, it was settled 
 with my city friends to have the money forthcoming when on 
 answer would be received from the province. 
 
 When the answer came, stocks had fallen to about seventy- 
 four, and asihe memorandum of the interview was now read, 
 it appeared that the money was to be raised at five percent. 
 Without, the responsibility of the United Kingdom. This 
 was ridiculous to attempt, both from the state of stocks and 
 the unknown condition of the province ; however, I went to 
 Sir Thomas Reid*, at Ewell and got from him a letter stating 
 that there was no chance of raising the money on the same 
 
 i 
 
 * Of the bouse of Me srs. Reid, Irving, and Co, 
 
190 
 
 THI AUTOMOOIAFRT OV 
 
 terms ai it roigfht have been done before. Thia letter I atavo 
 to Mr. Wilmot Horton, and explained my belief that the ar- 
 rangement would now be of no effect He then propoaed t 
 new one, to which I acceded, and the buaineas being apparent- 
 ly aettled, I went to Scotland, where, aoon after my arrival, I 
 wrote a note to Mr. Horton, requesting a copy of the dispatch 
 sent to Canada. This in the course of a poat or two waa 
 transmitted, and I had no reason to doubt that all was now 
 adjusted. 
 
 Being sick of a life of adventure, and having before me on- 
 ly the education of my children, I resolved to remain in the 
 neighbourhood of Edinburgh. Without, therefore, troubling 
 the reader with details, I was induced to fix my residence near 
 Musselburgh. In one respect I considered myself extremely 
 fori unate. The house and grounds were not large : they had 
 belonged to the late Lord Eskgrove. The battle of Pcnkie 
 had been fought on the spot, and Pinkie house, with many 
 agreeable traditionary objects were around and seen from the 
 windows, circumstances highly interesting to one who indul* 
 ges so much in his imagination. The neighbours were also 
 very social ; and altogether it presented many inducements 
 to entice repose to one who had suffered painful vicissitudes. 
 Judge, however, of my astonishment, when the answer waa 
 due firom Canada, to receive from my correspondent a copy of 
 the dispatch from Lord Bathurst, published in a Gazette £<• 
 traordinary, as if a victory had boen gained, in which tho ' 
 whole tranoacuion was erroneously represented. I compared 
 it with the copy sent me, and in that copy all the principal 
 matter of the dispatch was omitted.''' 
 
 As soon as possible I went to London, where I found Mr. 
 Horton on the point of going to Leamington. The interview 
 took place at his own houec, in Montague Square, where I 
 ■hewed him the Gazette Extraordinary, and the copy of the 
 
 * I have not the proleifled copy of the dispatch which was tent to me, but 
 In the way it waa written, the Hr t eleven hnca were umitied, and the whole 
 of thelaatparasraph; I cannot th refore say exnclly now in whatthe differ- 
 eoM oonaiated, fbr I gave back the original paper, but a copy of the Gazette 
 ia in the Appeudix,aQd, bj Ar sa toy recollection goea, the omitted parts ars 
 In italics. 
 
iOBH OAIT. 
 
 101 
 
 diipttch, which he had ordered to be aent to me. He made 
 noobpervation on the aubject, but his manner betokened how 
 much he waa aurpriaed at the diacrepancy ; ta the matter 
 however could not now be poatponed, I declered my intention 
 not to return to Scotland till the buainc.w waa aettl^. 
 
 He proceeded to Leamington with hia family, and I went 
 to him by the coach. 
 
 On going down, I met there with Mr. Robinaon, then Chan- 
 cellor of the Exchequer,'*' and after the arrival of Mr. Mor- 
 ton aeveral conferencea reapecting the liquidatiun of the 
 daima were held together. 
 
 Mr.Robinaon expreaaed it aa hii opinion, that if the province 
 of Upper Canada would undertake to pay the half of the civil 
 expenaea of the province, the United Kingdom ahould un- 
 dertake tod iacharge the claima. An arrangement aubatantial- 
 ly to thia effect waa agreed upon, and I returned home, where, 
 before any thing could be carried into effect, or be depended 
 upon, I aaw it waa neceaaary to inatitute inquiriea reapecting 
 the reaourcea of the province, for which time waa requiaite. 
 I accordingly wrote to my correapondent on the aubject, and 
 though tingling with vexaticm at the abaurd light in which I 
 had been ao unaccountably miarepreaented in the diapatch, 
 publiahed in the Gazette Extraordinary, aaw no alternative but 
 only to aubmit to an afflicting mortification. 
 
 * Now Earl Godarich. 
 
 r 
 
192 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The arrival of an Indian thief . His business. The Duke, 
 
 of Northumberland interested in it. He sends Colonel 
 
 . Talbot to the Colonial Office. The promise of the busi- 
 ness being amicably settled. 
 
 Soon after, being" appointed agent for the Canada claimants, 
 an incident occurred which has never ceased to amuse me. 
 
 An Indian chief and a relation of his were deputed by the 
 Six Nation Indians to London to procure a charter for the 
 lands received from the British Government, in lieu of those 
 they had abandoned after the American war of independence. 
 
 To understand the state of the question between these In- 
 dians and the British, it is requisite to remark, that in no res- 
 peel whatever did they owe any allegiance to our g-overn- 
 ment, neither as inhabitants of a soil that we had usurped in 
 the usual Christian manner, nor as subjects of a country we 
 had conquered by our arms; they were entirely distinct 
 from us, nor owed nor acknowledged obedience to our laws. 
 
 They consisted of the relics and the children of the Abor- 
 igines who inhabited the Mohawk tract in the state of New 
 York, and who left it at the close, as I have said, of the Amer- 
 ican war. They were recompensed for their services to the 
 cause of George III. and or the fidelity of their alliance, with 
 what.was deemed an equivalent, in a tract of land measuring' 
 six miles on e.jch side backwards from the mouth of the river 
 Ouseto its source. 
 
 By the acceptance of this gift, as it maybe called in com- 
 mon parlance, they did not conceive that they had comprom- 
 ised their national independence, but only that in abandoning 
 their native haunts for a new region, they had made an ex- 
 change. • I believe our Government of the day thought the 
 same. 
 
 Subsequently, by little and little, the British authorities for- 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 193 
 
 got the principle of alliance) or confounded it with that of al- 
 legiance, until the Indians came to be regarded (never on 
 their part) as British subjects: doubtless their condition, in the 
 opinion of the philosophers of Europe, may have been there- 
 by improved, but they did not think so themselves. 
 
 In time, however, they so approximated to civilization, as 
 to render them gradually likely to come under the British 
 yoke, and in consequence it was thought desirable to obtain 
 a charter for their lands; but, in total oblivion of their origin 
 and connexion, we treated them as already Btitish subjects. 
 It is true, except in undermining the wild liberties of their 
 savage state, they had not much cause of complaint, nor did 
 they complain. 
 
 It is impossible to conjecture by what motive the British 
 Government was actuated in the refusal of the charter; it 
 miofht be in consideration of their unfitness to come under the 
 British law, or from the difficulty to determine to whom the 
 charter should be granted. The chief, in right of his mother, 
 seemed to be the proper person, for his father, I have under- 
 stood, was only a war chief, and that the children inherited 
 the superiority from her. The people were not exactly ia 
 a feudal way, like the vassals that occupied anciently, for ex- 
 ample, the domains and country of the Duchess of ssuther- 
 land, but were in something after the manner of those un- 
 der the law of tanistry which formerly prevailed in Ireland. 
 Be this however as it may, the time was supposed to have ar- 
 rived when a charter should be obtained, as a preliminary to 
 brinofinsr the Indians settled at the Ouse or Grand River un- 
 der the British dominion. 
 
 The case was very undefined with the British Govern- 
 ment, which was falling into the error of arrogating to itself 
 a supremacy over the Six Nations, to which it had neither 
 claim nor right. 
 
 The chief who brought letters to me was John Brant, a 
 son of the famous Brant who is painted with such inordi- 
 nate colours by Campbell in his Gertrude of Wyoming, and I 
 was in consequence induced to call upon him and his frieuU 
 
 
 m 
 
194 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and to invite them to my house. Brant himself was very in- 
 teresting; a full blooded Indian by descent, ho was strikingly 
 peculiar, but with the sedateness of his race he united uncom- 
 mon mildness of manners. 
 
 In the course of conversation I inquired what other letters 
 they had brought with them, After mentioning several city 
 names Brant informed me that he had one for the Duke of 
 Northumberland, whose father had been mucii nttached to his, 
 but said that the old Duke being dead, he did not think it 
 would be worth while to deliver the letter. 
 
 "You are mistaken," said I, "I do not know the young 
 Duke's character, but a letter to him should have been deliv- 
 ered first. The gentlemen in the city are very good, but they 
 are in business and your case is not in their way, — -but 
 what progress you have madel" 
 
 He then told me none, and showed me a parcel of official 
 roundabouts which he had received and sent to Earl Bathurst. 
 
 I could not give hmi advice offhand how he should proceed, 
 but said, "It strikes me that these diplomatic notes will never 
 do; they are foreign to your business and to your character. 
 I will, however, think of your case ; in the mean time go to 
 the Duke of Northumberland with your letter; he will receive 
 you very well, for all these sort of people are very agreeable 
 in their manners, but observe him sharply and let me know 
 what you in your Indian way think of him." 
 
 Accordingly that same day Brant and his companion wait- 
 ed on the Duke, who lived at that time in the white house in 
 St. James's Sipjare now inhabited by my friend Mr. Hudson 
 Gurney. The report to me of their reception was very 
 guarded, and I could mJike nothing out of them, hut only that 
 they were pleased and that his (irace had asked them todinner. 
 
 "This looks well," was my remark, "you will go, and I 
 beg you to observe him strictly and really to lot me know what 
 you think of him, for much will depend on that report as to 
 whether I may be aWe to be of any use to you." 
 
 On the morningafler thedinnerl called on ^em early to 
 know the result. Brant eaid little, but his companion spoke 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 Ids 
 
 as if highly pleased with the duchess; the duke, however, it 
 appeared had given them both strong assurances of exert- 
 ing his best power to facilitate their mission, and Brant, with 
 the emphatic manner of an Indian, added that "his Grace was 
 sincere." It would not be easy to explain his metaphysics, 
 but he had evidently entire confidence derived from the man- 
 ner in which the Duke had spoken. 
 
 " Now," said I, " something can be done, but unless you 
 entirely commit your case to me and implicitly follow my ad- 
 vice, I can be of little use to you." 
 
 Both Brant and his friend then assured me that they had 
 determined to trust me, and that whatever I advised to be done 
 they would not shrink from doing. 
 
 This was a compliment that inwardly made me very proud, 
 and I requested writing materials. I well remember the 
 occasion, for their breakfast-table was not cleared. While 
 matters were getting ready, I told them that Lord Bathurst 
 was not the proper person to address, for he might not have 
 time to attend to their business, that it should be Mr. Horton, 
 adding, 
 
 " It will require all your Indian fortitude to do what I con- 
 ceive must be done. Mr. Horton is one of the best men liv- 
 ing, but his mind is sullied with official rules and maxims, 
 and the other trash of files and precedents, which impair to 
 himself its native purity. He believes he can think ill of 
 others, because he is naturally ingenuous, but he is mistaken, 
 and the only way of getting his good will is to put him in a 
 passion, irt which he will probably be very outrageous, but 
 his paroxysm will be succeeded by contrition, in which ho 
 will think that he has used you ten times worse in his anger 
 than even he can do. Now I will write you a letter nominally 
 to Earl Bathurst, but really to him, which, without contain- 
 ing one word that an Indian might not say, will be so contrary 
 to all etiquette, that it will make him dancing mad." 
 
 Accordingly, drawing the materials towards me, I scrawled 
 a proper tomahawk epistle to the Secretary of State, tel- 
 
196 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ]ing him th&t he had no business with what they did with their 
 lands, and that by all law, Indian as well as European, if 
 the king had not the Indian lands when he granted them to 
 the S?x Nations, he was bound whf n he did acquire them to 
 fulfil his grant. This allusion was made, as it had been sta- 
 ted as an argument to curtail the grant, that the lands of 
 the Six Nations had not been purchased at the time from 
 the natives. This curious letter I presume is still in the Colo- 
 nial Office. 
 
 Branl made a copy of it, and it was delivered in. Soon af- 
 ter Mr. Horton was, as may be supposed by those who know 
 him, neither to bind nor to hold at receiving such an impro- 
 per document, and forbade the deputies the office, from 
 which they came tome very much ("isooncerted. 
 
 The machination was however working to effect, and 1 ad- 
 vised them to go to the Duke of Northumberland and tell him 
 what had happened in consequence of their letter, and to 
 beg his aid. 
 
 The Duke was disturbed at their story; with faithful ad- 
 herence, however, to his promise, ^ind evincing the correctness 
 of the Indian's remark on his sincerity, he sent down Colonel 
 Thomas Talbot, of the Talbot settlement, the brother of Lord 
 Malahide, to smooth down the official back of Mr. Horton; 
 and in the long run, by the interposition of his Grace, all con- 
 troversy between the Indians and the Colonial Office was 
 peacefully appeased. Tht^y returned to America with the as- 
 surance that their charter lor his Majesty's grant of land 
 would be made out. 
 
 Brant, who was my next neighbour when 1 was in Canada, 
 and frequently at my house, told me that at the council of 
 their nation, when the tomahawk epistle was read, all the 
 assembled chiefs gave a particular solemn nod of approbation.; 
 each like Jupiter in the Iliad, 
 
 " Shook in bis ambrosial curlH and gave the ood.'* 
 
 But to return to my own narrative. 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 197 
 
 their 
 !an, if 
 em to 
 em to 
 n sta- 
 nds of 
 3 from 
 ! Colo- 
 yon af- 
 
 know 
 
 impro- 
 
 L, from 
 
 id X ad- 
 
 ;ll him 
 
 and to 
 
 hful ad- 
 rectness 
 Colonel 
 
 of Lord 
 llorton ; 
 
 all con- 
 Bee was 
 1 the as- 
 
 of land 
 
 Canada, 
 Duncil of. 
 all the 
 ■obat ioa ; 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Courtesy of the Colonial department. Party spirit in Cana- 
 da. The secret resolutions of the Commissioners. Char- 
 acter of correspondence. Origin of the Canada Company. 
 My case. 
 
 With the exception of the strang-e difference between the 
 copy sent to me of EarlBathurst's dispatch, and that in the Ga- 
 zette extraordinary published in Upper Canada, there was no- 
 thing in the advocacy of the claims remarkable. Delay was 
 unavoidable, and perhaps it assumed sometimes the appearance 
 of procrastination, but I am perfectly convinced, that when 
 it did so it was purely accidental. This much it is but right 
 to state ; for although I was never engaged in a more unsat- 
 isfactory business, it is but common justice to admit, that in 
 the Secretary of State's office, I found every courtesy, even 
 in circumstances where the nature of my correspondence was 
 such, that I could not myself have endured it. 
 
 At that time I was not aware of the virulence of party 
 spirit in Canada. Never being a political man, the dissen- 
 sions there did not attract my attention ; I looked on them in 
 some sort as borough squabbles, at most as a puddle in a 
 storm. But it seems that party feeling was allowed a pre- 
 dominance in the matter of the claims highly reprehensi- 
 ble. One day, in Ix>rd Bexley's library in Downing Street, 
 when the papers of the claims' commissioners were produced, 
 I observed accidentally, with tacit indescribable amazement, 
 that among the rules of decision which the commissioners pre- 
 scribed for themselves, was one, I think the tenth, in which 
 they agreed that the claims of persons suspected in their po- 
 litical principles should be rejected. Such an atrocious deter- 
 mination, amounting to a forfeiture of goods, or a fine withou 
 
 trial, wa9 so repugnant to my notions of British justice, tha 
 
 R 2 
 
196 
 
 THE AVTOBIOORAPRY OP 
 
 it left a deep impression, not in favour of the provincial au- 
 thorities. 
 
 Afterwards the letters of my correspondent added to this 
 stem sentiment. They overflowed with observations which 
 the rule laid down by the commissioners seemed to justify 
 and in consequence, as it was my duty as an agent to repre- 
 sent what was said to me to the colonial office, I was obliged 
 to frame my letters accordingly. This I did in as mitigated 
 terms as I could, but still strongly to the detriment of the pro- 
 vincial authorities; of them personally I know nothing, nor 
 was I aware of the enmity which political difi'erences had en- 
 gendered. At last my remarks drew from Mr. Horton an ani- 
 madversion on my insinuations. I had been sensible myself 
 of their nature and wondered why they were allowed but 
 his complaint was decisive. A letter full of vituperation had 
 been lately received by me from Upper Canada. I obliterated 
 the name, and sent it, with all tlie post marks, privately to 
 Mr. Horton, trusting to his honour as a gentleman, that af- 
 ter reading it he would return it to me, and acquit me individ- 
 ually of the imputation of addressing the colonial depart- 
 ment unguardedly, though my duty required me to make 
 harsh accusations. He returned the letter, and I believed was 
 satisfied I acted only as the organ of others, and I had ra- 
 ther softened than hardened the communications I was com- 
 pelled to make. 
 
 This statement is necessary, though it may appear at first 
 sight, making rather too much a matter of private business, 
 but without disclosures which have the air of being extraordi- 
 nary, it will not be doing justice to the reader, either to 
 think he can rightly understand many things to be developed, 
 or properly appreciate the difficulties I had to encounter, and 
 for which some degree of sympathy is expected. Had I poa- 
 •essed the good fortune of a friend to have seconded my endeav- 
 ours, the result might have been different ; however, it is on- 
 ly what it has been, that is to be described, and if consideration 
 for myself is not obtained, there is now no help for it; my ob* 
 ject is to deliver a plain, imvamished tale, and if it do not en- 
 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 1U9 
 
 title me to put forth the pretension of having encountered 
 obstacles of no ordinary kind, I can only reckon this anticipa- 
 tion among the other fallacies to which I have been inured. 
 
 After my return from England, I was just beginning to 
 resume the habits into which, with something like weariness, 
 I had composed myself, when an unprovided for occurrence 
 compelled me again to become an adventurer. As it is always 
 with reluctance that I broach upon any domestic topic, I may 
 be pardoned for saying I saw before me no alternative but to 
 return to London. Accordingly I prepared for that object with 
 all the equanimity I could muster. 
 
 In the mean time, Bishop Macdonell of Upper Canada, vis- 
 ited me, and in the day he spent at Eskgrove gave me all the 
 information I required respecting the crown and clergy re- 
 serves of the Canadas. From tiiis circumstance the Canada 
 Company was ultimately formed, but as I have drawn up a nar- 
 rative of its history as correct as my recollection could furnish« 
 in the year 1830, I shall quote the case here. It was intend- 
 ed as a ground of petition for remuneration, and was submitted 
 to some of the shrewdest men in this country, who thought the 
 claim well founded, but when afterwards laid before the Earl 
 ot Ripon, then Secretary of State for the Colonies, with a view 
 to obtain the consent of the crown to the object of my petition, 
 his Lordship thought the claim inadmissible ; as however he 
 assigned no reason, I am not content with his decision, though 
 I have submitted to it, in the mean time, by not proceeding to 
 Parliament; indeed, what avails it troubling friends, when the 
 crown withholds the preliminary sanction. 
 
 Perhaps, in some respects, instead of giving the case, I ought 
 to have re-written the narrative here, but it is more conclusive 
 to state what I intended to lay before Parliament, because, as 
 the matter was drawn up with the hope of investigation, I 
 am not aware that a better course could be adopted, especially 
 M I still think that, in the declaration of inadmissibility, I 
 have but received " scrimp justice." I beg, however, not to be 
 misunderstood, I do not complain of any ill-usage, but merely 
 that my case has not been investigated. If it had turned out 
 
200 
 
 THB AUTOBIOORAPHT OF 
 
 that I was entitled to no brokerage, or commission on the sale 
 effected, or the money put into the coffers of the empire, then 
 I would have submitted becomingly to the award ; but the 
 mere arbitrary refusal of a minister, as it appears, is not suffi- 
 cient, in my opinion, to extinguish legitimate charges against 
 transactions indisputably of national benefit and authorized.*" 
 
 * Arter thiB follows a petition to Parliniiient by Mr. Gait," for remunera* 
 tion tVoin iiin IVi.ijei^ty'HGoverniiient tor eeliiiig ceriiiio Crown Lands in Up- 
 per Canada." It will be lenitniliered ilutt Ue clninn (i (H)niinie>8ioii as nsent for 
 tlie inlmbitiiiits of Canada, forwliose bt hoof certain Crown lauds were sold. 
 Ttie Bta'e ol ilio case is well sunnncd up in tlie concluding paitnf tlie peil' 
 tioH which i^jall that wc deem necessary to lay before our readers. — Ed. 
 
 To conclude, it ninst l)e mnnifoat, 
 
 First, Tlial the ptttitioner was actuated throughout the wliole business, until 
 the [Canada] Company was formed, by an expfxtHtiontiial tlie money to be 
 obtained from the sale of the lands would be appropriated to tlie liquidation of 
 the claims ot hiscon.stituents. 
 
 Secondly, That the destination of the money to another purpose, while he 
 was enijaged in attempting to etfect the sale, oucht at least lo have been com- 
 nninicated lo him ; for it cannot be alleged that a Secretary of State has the 
 right to tax any man's time, labour, and ingenuity, without his consent. 
 
 Third, Tlint the petitioner was requetited in writing by Earl Baihurst to 
 furuisli a plait of sale, which he did; that lie was verbally requested by the 
 Under Secretary of Sate to try if purchasers could be found, ; that, in proof 
 of this, until piiich&sers were found the Secretary of State was officially 
 consulted before any one point vas determined with the merchants; and 
 that even the prospectus upon which the money was to be raised, was not 
 permitted to be issued until it had received the correction and approbation of 
 Earl Bathurst by Mr. VVihuot llorton; — all circumstances of the common 
 kind which take place between a broker and a seller. 
 
 Fourth, That a service was performed,— the sale of two million three hun- 
 dred and eighty-four thousand four hundred and thirteen acr<s for three hun- 
 dred and forty eight tiiuu:$and si.v hundred and eighty pounds four shillings 
 and sixpeiice, thus :— 
 
 Crown Reserves, 1,384,113 acres, at 3«. M. 41342,272 5 6 
 1,000,000 acres in lieu of Clergy Reserves, 
 wliich could' nor be sold for the eauie 
 amount of purchase-money 145,150 5 
 
 Currency of Upper Canada jC387,423 lU 6 
 
 Sterling i;:l48,680 4 6 
 
 Of this sum sixty-five thousand pounds have been ac-tually paid as foU 
 Iowa : — 
 
 Inlheyearending July 1827 £20,000 
 In lh« year ending July IH->8 15,(100 U 
 In the year ending July 1829 ]5,(;00 
 In the year ending July 1830 15,000 
 
 £65,000 
 
 And the balance ispayahle as rollnws:— in 1631, £16,000; in 1832, £17,000 
 in iai3, 18,000/; in 1834 19,000/; and 20,000/ yearly theieafter until the whol« 
 ifl paid. 
 
 Tkb Qobstion therefore is,— has the Petitioner any light to expect re- 
 muneration for having suggested the plan of sale, and accomplished all that ht 
 wac reauested to do, sanctioned and directed, as lie was. in every step and 
 stage 01 the proceedings by tlie Secretary of State t 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 201 
 
 To this case were appended several letters which are in the 
 Appendix, because it appeared to myself, that, possibly, these 
 letters might be regarded as affording a ground for supposing 
 that I was not acting in the service of Government, notwith- 
 standing the evidence which showed that I was as much em- 
 ployed in what was done, as any broker or agent is in the city 
 employed and authorized for the sale of articles which he ef- 
 fects, and for which he claims, and is paid, his brokerage or 
 commission.* 
 
 * Mr. Oalf conleiided In liia petition fbnt liis bpineeU'ctod Pecrf tary to 
 tliR Canada t'nnipaiiy, did not l«'ssfn Ins rlaiins on llie GcvtinnuMii lor fnrnier 
 pervicesas ajK^nt for ilif iiilial)itani8 of the I'rnviiice cIniniiKg coni|'^»!^'Hiion 
 for losses — the more ?n as ho acted tii ronfomiiiy with tlie wishes of the 
 Government, and as u luud of recognised hroiiur iMUween the paiiieB.— Epit. 
 
 5 6 
 
202 
 
 TUB AIJTOCIOORAPHY OP 
 
 EPOCH FIFTH 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 The Canada Company. Original view. Embark in the 
 Romney man-of-war. Journey through the State of New- 
 York. Civilities of the Americans. Reach Upper Can- 
 ada. 
 
 The Canada Company, although I have to deplore my con- 
 nection with it, is an institution which only calamity can pre- 
 vent from obtaining great prosperity. It was not, however, 
 my original intention to have any thing further to do with it, 
 than to provide the means for the payment of my principals, 
 and to resume my position in Scotland ; but when the govern- 
 ment destined the money to other objects than that which in- 
 duced me to take so much trouble, I was persuaded to unite 
 myself with the Company. 
 
 For the business, I was, perhaps, not unqualified, for the set- 
 tlement of colonies had been with me long an object of study, 
 in which, without being able to assign any reason for the bias, 
 I had from boyhood ever a hankering. 
 
 When the arrangements were completed, and the capital 
 of the company raised, the Romney man-of-war was appoint- 
 ed to convey the commissioners, for determining the valuq of 
 the land, to New York. Some preparations were, however, ne- 
 cessary before she could sail, and we were delayed in conse- 
 quence several days at Plymouth. I shall ever remember 
 our stay there with great pleasure, and particularly the hospi- 
 talities of Lord De Saumarez, who was then port admiral. I 
 had, however, an individual reason for being delighted with 
 Plymouth, particularly in seeing and being upon tlie break- 
 water ; for I happened long ago to be dining with Mr. Ren- 
 
JOHN OALT. 
 
 203 
 
 nie, the engineer, on the day it was agreed to erect it, and 
 the incident is impressed upon my memory by an odd circum- 
 stance. At dinner we had a hare served which had been 
 caught in the bottom of the London Docks by the workmen, 
 and sent to him. The incident intereKted my ftincy, and next 
 morning I sent to Mr. Rennie tiie following impromptu, sug- 
 gested by the occasion. 
 
 IMPROMPTU. 
 
 Wlieii time iimtortid the pKiii of fiUe, 
 ThiUgiiVe iiii)>eri!il RoHie lior d;Ue, 
 Dtjvoiiriiig V illiire.s hovetiiig caint;, 
 All omen of her warlikt; fame ; 
 But signs of other a^^|lt'cl shew 
 What Jove will on your work bestow. 
 Yea, when he bade the timid iiare 
 A«tonislied to the dockH repair, 
 The sign propiiious proved it plain, 
 The coyest commerce of the main 
 Bhonlil wondering there be (bund nt last, 
 To aid Urilannia'8 licii repast. 
 
 In due tune we sailed. In the course of the voyage I recol- 
 lect only two occurrences, one of them exceedingly ridiculous, 
 and the other a natural fact, worthy of serious investigation. 
 What I allude to in the first place, arose from the ship being 
 new, and being under-rigged, had a practice of rolling. One 
 night a gun got loose in my cabin, and I lay in my cot, not ven- 
 turing to get out for dread of the gun, raging like a bandit in a 
 rnelo-drama ; it was some time before it could be fastened. — 
 The other incident was a sort of natural mystery. Before 
 reaching the American coast, or being within soundings, the 
 water of the ocean became suddenly warm, above 70° one day 
 before dinner. It occurred to me that we might be approach- 
 ing the land, and accordingly I predicted we should soon be in 
 soundings. This was a lucky hit of sagacity, for while we 
 were at dmner the lieutenant of the watch reported that we 
 had reached soundings.* 
 
 Some of the commissioners, of whom I was one, got on board 
 
 • The sage conclusion, which Mr. Gait refers " to a hicky hit of sagacity ," 
 would be reached by uiiy persou who had ever crossed the Atlantic: bat not 
 
201 
 
 THE AUTODIOORAPHY Of 
 
 a pilot-boat at Sandy-Hook, and made the best of our way to 
 New York in a waggon, across Long Island to Brooklyn. — We 
 immediately went to an hotel, and spent an evening, of which 
 the contrast of a long voyage certainly augmented tlie plcasura 
 Next afternoon we embarked in a steam-boat for Albany, 
 and I take this opportunity of mentioning a very hospitable 
 circumstance that might be judiciously imitated elsewhere. — 
 The customhouse officers passed our luggage without examina- 
 tion, and in fact every facility was given to us that could possibly 
 be desired. 
 
 In sailing up the Hudson to Albany I met with an agreea- 
 ble incident. My travelling habits and a disposition to inquire 
 the characters of those around, induced me to take my place 
 at the public supper-table. The other commissioners '^ kept 
 their state" in another cabin, which the captain assigned to 
 them with due respect to their national prejudices. My seat at 
 the public table turned out most fortunate. A gentleman sat 
 down beside me whom in tlie course of conversation I found 
 was a Colonel Hamilton, l^ie son of the celebrated general of 
 that name, the friend of General Washington, and the same 
 who was shot in a duel with Burgh. 
 
 I hod been at school with two of his relations, one of them 
 Mr. Walter Hamilton, the author of the Indian Gazetteer, so 
 that a sort of intimacy was at once formed, especially as it was 
 in my power to give him some account of his family, at 
 Grange, in Ayrshire, tie made me acquainted with the cha- 
 racters of many of his father's friends ; he had himself been 
 with tlie Duke of Wellington in the Peninsula, and had seen 
 a good deal of the world to supply agreeable topics of conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 In co^equence of meeting this gentlemen I resolved to stop 
 a few days at Albany ; ray colleagues. Colonel Cockburn, the 
 present governor of Honduras, and Sir John Harvey, went 
 
 on the datum aasiimeii by Mr. Q. This suddenly elevated temperature df ttit 
 water of ili« oceaa, shows that the ship U in the Gulf Stream^ and of conse- 
 querict) that ere long, if she preserve her westerly euurtie, Khe will soon be in 
 ■oundliii^s The upprnnch to soundings i.s evinced by a diminishrd tempera- 
 tuie of the water, and on this account a th^riuuuieter u uo bad prvcursar 
 aud cuuipautuu to the lead.— EoiToa. 
 
JOHN (JALT. 
 
 203 
 
 straight an to Yorlc, and Mr. M'Giilivray and Mr. Daviduou 
 the other commiiMioners, proceeded to Lower Canada. The 
 legislature was sitting, and in both iiouses I was allowed a seat 
 witliin the bar. While in the upper house Burgh happened to 
 come in and passed quite close to Colonel Hamilton ; but I 
 remarked he was not noticed., and had something of a blighted 
 appearance. In the course c> the day I received an invitation 
 to dine with the governor of the State, the celebrated De Witt 
 Clinton, to whom I had a letter. The dinner party was nu- 
 merous and gentlemanly. Tlie chancellor, and some of the 
 Judges, with the leading members of tlie bur, and the most emi- 
 nent characters in the legislature were there. The impression 
 of the company was much superior to what I expected. In 
 Mrs. Clinton I met with a woman of great energy ; she was a 
 very Madame Roland, with many original traits of character. 
 In one characteristic she had an instantaneous claim on my 
 respect, for in appearance she much resembled what I recol- 
 lected of my own mother, and singularly enough was dressed 
 exactly in the same style ; the resemblance was increased by 
 the same straight forward shrewdness. I sat on her right 
 hand, but nothing occurred to sho w that she possessed equal 
 humour to my mother, certainly not that grotesque sort of 
 phraseology, which, in her, was almost equal to wit. Mrs. 
 Clinton, or Lady Clinton, as siie was called by the common 
 people, was a shade graver. I owed the cordiality of her 
 treatment to an impression which had been produced by the 
 *♦ Annals of the Parisli." g 
 
 Next day I had another sort of entertainment that to me 
 was still more racy. Among my letters I had one from Mr. 
 Ellice to a Mr, Baron Blucher, an old friend of his fathers', of 
 Dutch origin. The appearance of tliis antique gentleman was 
 ■exceedingly prepossessing and primitive. He invited me to 
 dinner, and told me that his hour was one o'clock, but he would 
 make it three to give me more leisure. All aboat him seem- 
 ed like a vision of antiquity. The wine glasses were tall and 
 very old-fashioned, like those that may be seen in the picture 
 ■of the burgomasters in the Stadthouse of Amsterdam. They 
 had long stalks, with a white v.onu, of a screw form, within, 
 
206 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 i 
 
 and I am quite sure I do not greatly overstep the truth when I 
 say that thr whole apparatus of the table was at least as anci- 
 ent as American liberty. His manners and sedate shrewdness 
 were also of " the olden time," and I have often since wished 
 that I could have an opportunity of describing at more lengtli 
 such a respectable specimen of the past. 
 
 Among my excursions from Albany, Colonel Hamilton bor- 
 rowed a carriage from some of his connexions and took me to 
 iiee the falls of Cahoes, on the Mohawk river, the next catar- 
 act 'in size to the Falls of Niagara: We then crossed the river 
 by a covered bridge, and went to the thriving town of Troy, in 
 vvhicli I could see nothing classical; but we were ferried 
 across to the Albany side in a team-boat, tiiat is to say, a boat 
 with wheel paddles like a steam-boat, but driven by horses.* 
 
 Having satisfied myself with Albany, I proceeded on my 
 route to Upper Canada, and in the course of the journey fell in 
 with a countryman, to whose communicative intelligence I 
 consider myself greatly indebted. I dined with hun inCananda- 
 gua, and afterwards made the best of my way to BufFaloe, and 
 thence to Black Rock, where I was very kindly treated by 
 General Porter, who, I believe, was afterwards American 
 Secretary-at-war. I was there among friends ; for it happened 
 that the death of a relation in Virginia was at the time in the 
 papers, and Mrs.' Porter had been particularly acquainted with 
 him. 
 
 From Black Rock I jaroqpeded to Manchester, at the Falls 
 of Niagara, the ice in^he river prevented me from crossing- 
 By the time I got to Manchester, the weather grew very cold, 
 
 * Team-boats are very ancient, and their paddle*w!ieel8 are the models 
 t'lom which those of ihe eteam boat are taken. Mr. V^illiam Symington, in 
 ills demonstration of his father being the inventor of steam boats now of such 
 iucalculable benetit in navigation, mentions that the substitution of wheels for 
 oars is as old as ttie lime of the Romans, and quotes from Witscn's Treatiiie 
 on Shipbuilding, published at Amsterdam in 1G3I, a drawing of a vcsisel 
 propelled by paddle-wheels turnrd by oxen. But the invention is much older ; 
 for a Professor of Padua, is stated to have seen in 1587 an ancient bas-relief, 
 which represented a galley wiih three wtteels aside, turned by three pair of 
 nzen ; and Vulterius who live-^ in tlie fifteenth century, shows ttiat the inven 
 tion was anterior to his time. I iiave been told by an acquaintance, that he 
 Haw on one of the rivers on tiie we.atside of Hindostan, a vessel propelled by 
 paddle-wheels, set a goini; by some sort of machinery like the tread mill, and 
 I HAW myself, on the liver Detroit, a small boat with paddle-wheels, which the 
 Minn at I'h^ helm made to tuin round by a pair of treadles under his feet, after 
 th« launnor of a spinning wheel. 
 
JOHN GALT. 
 
 207 
 
 and I was exceedingly unwell with the varioloid, a disease 
 that did not leave me for upwards of twelve months. It was 
 sunset when we reached Manchester, and as the fire in the 
 hotel was very invitmg, my disposition did not incline, at the 
 time, to go abroad, so I sent my servant to look at the Falls 
 with orders to come back and tell me what they were like, 
 and if it were worth my while to go and look at them. No 
 doubt the lad's downright character had some influence in 
 making me give this ludicrous order, but his answer when he 
 returned was beyond expectation. " It is a very cold night," 
 said he, " and there is nothing to be seen but a great tumbling 
 of waters," advising me at the same time not to go abroad that 
 night. ., 
 
 Thus it came to pass, that although within a hundred yards 
 of the Falls of Niagara, I was induced not to visit them, nor 
 did I during my first journey to America. In the course of 
 about a mile or two below the cataract, a turn in the road 
 gave me a view of them, which I think was the same I saw 
 long ago in the picture at Kilmarnock. 
 
 From the Falls, I proceeded down the American side of the 
 river to Louistown, where I hired a schooner to go across 
 Lake Ontario, and after a very rough and stormy passage 
 reached York, the capital of Upper Canada, where Colonel 
 Cockburn and Sir John Harvey had arrived? 
 
 w 
 
 pi 
 
 
 tfim 
 
 J'