LIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Class 
 
SUSAN FERRIER 
 
PRINTED BY 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 LONDON 
 
infa^/wis f(9? 6. 
 
MEMOIR AND CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 OF 
 
 SUSAN FERRIER 
 
 1782-1854 
 
 BASED ON HER PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE IN THE 
 
 POSSESSION OF, AND COLLECTED BY, HER 
 
 GRAND-NEPHEW JOHN FERRIER 
 
 EDITED BY JOHN A. DOYLE 
 
 FELLOW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 WITH PORTRAITS 
 
 LONDON 
 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET 
 1898 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE letters contained in this book have been collected and 
 handed to me by Mr. John Ferrier, son of the late Professor 
 Ferrier of St. Andrews, and, therefore, grand-nephew of the 
 novelist. To him also is due, with hardly any exception, 
 the biographical matter contained in the notes and else- 
 where. My task has been confined to arrangement, in 
 which I have been largely assisted by the advice of Mr. 
 Ferrier, and to supplying the occasional comments which 
 appear in the text. Mr. Ferrier has elsewhere expressed 
 our sincere thanks to the Rev. H. M. Fletcher for the 
 kindness with which he has placed at our disposal the 
 letters written by Miss Ferrier to his mother. It is much 
 to be regretted that many of Miss Ferrier's letters can no 
 longer be found. Especially unfortunate is the disappear- 
 ance of a number of very characteristic letters written to 
 her intimate friend, Miss Anne Walker, of Dairy. These 
 are known to have been in existence not many years ago, 
 but have now disappeared. 
 
 J. A. D. 
 
 227720 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 MY great-aunt, Susan Ferrier, lived a life so quiet and 
 uneventful as to afford little scope for a memoir. But an 
 insight, however slight, into her simple stay-at-home life, 
 derived from her correspondence, may perhaps be read 
 with interest by those to whom the perusal of her clever 
 and still popular novels has given pleasure. The very 
 marked success that has attended the recent editions of 
 these works gives a strong proof of their enduring excel- 
 lence. Professor Saintsbury, a great admirer of Miss 
 Ferrier, wrote (in the 'Sketch' Dec. 5, 1894), referring to 
 the letters published in the Dent Edition, * Indeed we can 
 hardly have too many documents for determining the 
 character of such a curious genius as Miss Ferrier's. 
 " Genius " may seem a strong word, but I stick to it. 
 Wherever there is the power of giving life there is genius 
 varying in amount, constant in quality. And that she 
 had this power, or the practically equivalent one of trans- 
 ferring life from living people to their copies in fiction, I 
 do not think any one can reasonably deny.' 
 
 The larger portion of her correspondence Miss Ferrier 
 desired to be destroyed ; but the letters to the friend of her 
 youth and old age, Miss Clavering ! (Mrs. Miles Fletcher 
 Mrs. Christison), are very lively and piquant in style, and 
 touch upon the times when she and her friend were laying 
 
 1 Charlotte Catherine, daughter of born 1790, died 1869. She was eight 
 General and Lady Augusta Clavering, years younger than Miss Ferrier. 
 
[8] INTRODUCTION 
 
 their hands and heads together in weaving the plot of 
 ' Marriage.' The letters to herself, which she seems to 
 have preserved, came to my father, the late Professor 
 Ferrier, at St. Andrews, after her death. They con- 
 sisted principally of critiques of her novels from her 
 different friends, chief among whom were Sir Walter Scott, 
 Sir James Mackintosh, Joanna Baillie, Mr. and Mrs. (after- 
 wards Lady Theresa) Lister. These and some others ap- 
 peared in an article I wrote for ' Temple Bar ' many years 
 ago, and are prefixed to Bentley's ' Edinburgh Edition,' 
 along with her touching * Recollections of Visits to 
 Ashestiel and Abbotsford,' their only fault being brevity. 
 The picture drawn of Abbotsford is naturally in sombre 
 colours, as its master was then showing signs of the 
 decline of his great mental powers, and my aunt had quite 
 recently lost the father to whom she devoted her life. 
 
 To the Rev. Henry M. Fletcher my thanks are due for 
 the use of the Clavering letters. His aunt, Lady Richard- 
 son, wrote to me, October 1873 : ' My friendship with your 
 aunt did not begin till about the year 1830, when I saw a 
 great deal of her when I spent most of two winters in 
 Edinburgh with the widow of my brother Miles Angus 
 Fletcher, who had been her friend from a very early period, 
 and I never knew a more constant and firm attachment 1 
 than existed between them. ... 1 have spent many delight- 
 ful hours with her in company with James Wilson, the 
 intimate friend of both of us. ... I was requested by my 
 sister-in-law to undertake what she had intended to do, 
 but was unable from her husband's illness to carry out 
 to go over the revision of " Destiny " for the press. This 
 led to our meeting daily for a long period and let me into 
 her inner mind more than J should otherwise been able to 
 
 1 Their friendship commenced in 1797, and continued without interruption 
 till 1854. 
 
INTRODUCTION [9] 
 
 appreciate from the shortness of our acquaintance. Her 
 devotion to her father is well known, and strong family 
 affections stand out in her, as in Miss Austen, in these com- 
 paratively unaffectionate days very strongly.' 
 
 Miss Ferrier in 1841 sold the copyright of her three 
 novels to Mr. Bentley, who wrote to her, April 4, 1850 : 
 
 ' The works are now stereotyped, but even now I should 
 be happy to make any verbal corrections in them if you 
 would consent to give your name. I took the opportunity 
 of enquiring whether you had by you any materials for 
 another work of a similar kind, and was very sorry to hear 
 you were so much of an invalid. ... I need scarcely say 
 how gratified I should feel if I could induce you to give 
 the public another work of fiction. Although the hono- 
 rarium which I should be happy to offer you might not 
 be of importance to you personally, it might be gratifying 
 to you inasmuch as it might enable you to exercise to a 
 still greater extent your benevolent feelings towards others. 
 But I should urge a still stronger motive to induce you to 
 listen to my suggestion the great value to society of such 
 moral teaching as yours, for the influence of a writer so 
 justly admired will not be doubted by any one. . . .' 
 
 Again he writes (1852): 'The times are now much 
 altered from those when " Marriage " appeared, but if it 
 were possible to meet your views in the event of your 
 health permitting you to contemplate a literary work, I 
 would certainly endeavour to do so ; for I should consider 
 it a high honour to be connected with you in such an 
 undertaking. . . . May 26, 1852. Until the corrections 
 are made in your three stories, " Marriage," " Inheritance," 
 and " Destiny," I perfectly understood that your name was 
 not to be announced. I sincerely trust that you may be 
 able to contribute another work to those you have already 
 given to the world and which have become classic.' 
 
[10] INTRODUCTION 
 
 To Mr. Bentley Miss Ferrier wrote (Edinburgh, 1851) : 
 
 ' I authorise the publication of my three novels, 
 " Marriage," " Inheritance," and " Destiny," with my name 
 prefixed to each, upon the following conditions : 
 
 ' i. The corrections and alterations made by me in the 
 stereotyped edition shall be adopted. 
 
 * 2. The illustrations and vignettes shall be expelled. 
 
 ' 3. That I shall have a certain number of copies for 
 myself and friends, the boards to be lined with plain 
 paper instead of the list of " Standard Novels." When 
 these conditions are complied with I will then give up the 
 penal bond I hold from Mr. Bentley.' 
 
 I desire in conclusion to express my sincere thanks to 
 Mr. John A. Doyle for the care and labour he has bestowed 
 on the arrangement and elucidation of Miss Ferrier's 
 correspondence. 
 
 J. F. 
 
 April 12, 1897. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE i 
 
 II. 'MARRIAGE' .47 
 
 III. ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' 148 
 
 IV. SIR WALTER SCOTT 236 
 
 V. MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS 258 
 
 INDEX 34 i 
 
LIST OF PORTRAITS 
 
 SUSAN FERRIER Frontispiece 
 
 From a. miniature by R. THORBURN. Painted in 1836. 
 
 CHARLOTTE C. CLAVERING To face p. 70 
 
 From a portrait by T. KEARSLEY, in the possession of her son, the 
 Rev. H. M. FLETCHER. 
 
PRINCIPAL EVENTS CONNECTED WITH 
 MISS FERRIER'S LIFE 
 
 1744. James Ferrier (father of S. E. F.) born. 
 
 1767. James Ferrier married Helen Coutts. 
 
 1782. Susan Edmonstone Ferrier born (September 7). 
 
 1796. Janet Ferrier (sister of S. E. F.) married James Connell of 
 
 Conheath, Esq. 
 
 1797. Mrs. Ferrier died (February). 
 
 1800. Archibald Ferrier (brother of S. E. F.) married Catherine 
 
 Garden. 
 
 Helen Ferrier (sister of S. E. F.) married James Kinloch, 
 Esq., banker, London. 
 
 1801. Lorn Ferrier (brother of S. E. F.) died in Demerara. 
 1804. William Ferrier and James Ferrier (brothers of S. E. F.) 
 
 died in India. 
 Jane Ferrier (sister of S. E. F.) married Brigadier- General 
 
 Graham. 
 John Ferrier (eldest brother of S. E. F.) married Margaret 
 
 Wilson. 
 
 1811. Miss Ferrier and her father visited Walter Scott at Ashestiel. 
 1814. Archibald Ferrier died. 
 
 1817. Miss Clavering married Miles Fletcher, Esq. 
 
 1 8 1 8. Publication of Marriage. 3 
 
 Walter Ferrier (youngest brother of S. E. F.) married 
 
 Henrietta Gordon. 
 
 1824. Publication of ' The Inheritance.' 
 1826. James Ferrier (father of S. E. F.) retired from office. 
 
 1829. James Ferrier (father of S. E. F.) died. 
 Miss Ferrier visited at Abbotsford. 
 
 1830. Publication of * Destiny.' 
 
 1831. General Graham died. 
 
 Miss Ferrier's second visit to Abbotsford. 
 1835. Mrs. Fletcher married J. Christison, Esq. 
 1841. Publication of the novels in Bentley's standard edition. 
 1846. Mrs. Graham died. 
 1848. Mrs. Connell died. 
 
 1852. Fresh edition of the novels published by Bentley, with 
 Miss Ferrier's name. 
 
 The year she authorised her name to be given to her works. 
 1854. Susan Edmonstone Ferrier died (November 5). 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 SUSAN FERRIER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 IT may seem perhaps an ill-chosen way of commending 
 a book to the reader to begin with an apology for its 
 existence. Yet such may not be needless in a time when 
 biographies and the denunciations of biography seem to 
 multiply in equal proportions. Apparently the biographer 
 in civitate nostra semper et vetabitur et retinebitur.' The 
 outcry against the writing of lives as excessive and super- 
 fluous is supplemented by two special pleas. It is said that 
 in many cases it traverses the express wishes of the dead ; 
 that even if there be not any explicit prohibition of a 
 biography, there may have been an aversion to publicity 
 which hardly falls short of prohibition. No doubt the 
 objector has a good case against many biographies as they 
 are written. But it does not argue any great arrogance on 
 the part of a writer to believe that he can avoid indecent 
 violations of confidence and gross sins against good feel- 
 ing. Burns's death-bed petition * Don't let the awkward 
 squad fire over my grave ' does not forbid all funeral 
 honours or require that every one who joins in the volley 
 should be a trained marksman. It would be easy to name 
 biographies raising large and bitter controversial issues, and 
 moving over the living embers of not extinct fires, which 
 yet have dexterously and not dishonestly avoided every- 
 thing which would give pain to the living or in any way 
 deface or degrade the memory of the dead. And is it a 
 
 B 
 
2 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 monstrous or unfeeling view to hold that in this matter 
 the wishes of the dead need not be absolutely and for ever 
 final, and that a somewhat morbid shrinking from publicity 
 where there is no possibility of discredit need not wholly 
 overbear a natural and legitimate desire to hear the praises 
 of famous men and women ? 
 
 Again we are sometimes told that, of all persons, 
 authors are those whose biographies we should least wish 
 to see. Almost always, so persons who are fastidious or 
 cynical, or both, tell us, there are imperfections and weak- 
 nesses in the living writer which mar the pleasure with 
 which we read the book. Let us take the poem or the 
 novel, they say, as though it were a detached product of 
 Nature. Enjoy the lines on Sporus without thinking of 
 Pope's ignoble squabbles with Lady Mary. Do not mar 
 your pleasure in ' Don Juan ' by any recollections of Lady 
 Byron. Others would say that there are few works which 
 are not coloured by the individual experience of the author, 
 and that those which are not, lose in human interest what 
 they may perhaps gain in artistic completeness. The 
 most attractive, if not intrinsically the best, products of 
 the human mind can seldom be fully understood unless we 
 know something of the soil and atmosphere in which they 
 grew. And it certainly seems on the face of it somewhat 
 strange and paradoxical to say that the completeness of 
 our enjoyment will be marred by the completeness of our 
 comprehension. To pry into novels for the recognition of 
 individuals and the verification of incident, to speculate 
 as to the indentity of Lord Steyne's parasites, or the 
 historical truth of Diana Warwick's treachery, is not to 
 show literary interest ; it is to gratify tastes which would 
 find more suitable pasture in the reports of the Law Courts 
 or the paragraphs in a society paper. The desire to learn 
 how the minds of Shakespeare and Scott were filled with 
 all the personages of that vast and varied human pageant 
 where king and beggar, men of action and men of 
 thought, all move in unquestioned reality and due order, to 
 know something of that strange seclusion which peopled 
 Charlotte Bronte's imagination with figures, often so unreal 
 in their outward seeming, ever living in their essential 
 humanity, this surely is no unhealthy curiosity, but a feel- 
 ing inherently connected with any true love for letters. 
 
 Here, I think, lies the main justification for this book. 
 It would be an alarming display of biographical mono- 
 
CH. i RELATIONS OF THE LETTERS TO THE NOVELS 3 
 
 mania if at the outset I placed Miss Ferrier on a level 
 with the writers whom I have named. It is, perhaps, not 
 claiming too much to say that her best work (and much of 
 her work falls very far short of the standard of that best) 
 does place her in that select band, whose writings have a 
 distinct and unmistakable flavour of their own, and that 
 its combination of merit and individuality invites us to a 
 careful study of the conditions which gave it birth. To 
 say that is not to deny that her letters have independent 
 merit and interest. They are the writings, often spon- 
 taneous, in some cases more or less studied, of a vigorous, 
 wholesome-minded, clear-sighted woman, with trained 
 powers of observation and expression. Many of them 
 describe a society interesting in itself, peopled with 
 characters, noteworthy, well defined, and often singular. 
 But the main interest lies in the fact that the persons 
 sketched furnish the materials for her books, and that we 
 see unmistakably the hand of the novelist at work. That 
 is quite apart from any question as to the originals who 
 served as models for the writer's various studies in the 
 grotesque. In some cases recognition was so easy and 
 obvious as to be a source of alarm to Miss Ferrier and her 
 friends. In others there were rival claimants. The secret 
 of Miss Pratt's indentity seems to have been effectually 
 kept. Probably, if Lord Beaconsfield had lived in Edin- 
 burgh in the twenties he would have substituted her 
 name for that of Junius in an often quoted epigram. But 
 the letters are interesting, not because we meet with Miss 
 Grizzy and Lady MacLaughlan, but because we are carried 
 into a social atmosphere in which Miss Grizzy and Lady 
 MacLaughlan were possible. 
 
 Nor is that all. The earlier letters reveal to us a good 
 deal about Miss Ferrier's methods of workmanship. They 
 show us how much she owed to the suggestions, and to the 
 acute, and at times unsparing, criticisms of Miss Clavering. 
 
 The letters throw light, too, not only on the merits, but 
 also on the deficiencies of Miss Ferrier's work. There, as 
 in the novels, we see two distinct elements never able to 
 assimilate. We see the comic Miss Ferrier, an observant, 
 caustic satirist, just stopping short of cynicism, a boisterous 
 humourist delighting in extravagant incident and mock 
 heroics. We see the moral Miss Ferrier paying an honest 
 but thoroughly conventional tribute to sentiment, treating 
 it as her serious mission to exemplify obvious moral truths, 
 
 B 2 
 
4 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 and so buying the right to gratify an unregenerate and 
 somewhat reprehensible love of mirth in her readers. And 
 thus it would not be easy to name any writer with whom 
 the published works and the life as set forth in correspon- 
 dence so fully serve the purpose of mutual interpreters. 
 Moreover, the literary judgments of an author are always 
 of value, if not as criticism at least as revelations of his 
 mind, and as throwing light on his views and methods. 
 This certainly is so with Miss Ferrier. Her remarks on 
 books tell us, indeed, more of her shortcomings than her 
 powers, yet even in that lies instruction. It is not, let it 
 be hoped, priggish or affected to say that her comments on 
 books show an almost entire want of the literary faculty. 
 She reads and likes ' Emma,' but describes it as ' having no 
 story ' ; ' Emma/ which for compactness and effectiveness 
 of plot has never been surpassed among English novels of 
 genteel or romantic comedy, and would never, perhaps, 
 have been equalled had ' Mansfield Park ' and * Persuasion ' 
 not been written ! Miss Ferrier always judges books by 
 direct obvious tests in her younger days by their power of 
 amusing, in her latter by their power of edifying. She 
 shows no keen sense, one may almost say no sense, of 
 construction and of style, of methods of character-drawing 
 more finished and more balanced than her own. 
 
 This is not all loss. Miss Ferrier has the merits of 
 her defects. She is always natural, and trusts with 
 absolute confidence to powers which were, for the most 
 part, guided by clear judgment and an acute sense of 
 humour. She is at times conventional ; but she is so 
 simply and naturally, not affectedly or artificially. 
 
 Miss Ferrier was born in Edinburgh on September 17, 
 1782. Readers of the late Mr. Hill Burton's ' Bookhunter ' 
 will not have forgotten his typical specimen of the conversa- 
 tion of a pedigree-loving old Scottish lady, ' And so ye see 
 auld Pittoddles, when his third wife deed, he got married 
 upon the Laird of Blaithershin's aughteenth daughter, that 
 was sister to Jemima, that was married until Tarn Flumexer, 
 that was first and second cousin to the Pittoddleses.' In 
 Miss Ferrier happily the genealogical instinct took a 
 livelier and pleasanter form. She has left us a memoir of 
 her father's early life marked by much of that discernment 
 and definite unexaggerated emphasis which distinguish her 
 best work. From that sketch, helped by a few slight but 
 graphic references in the letters, and by one or two 
 
en. i MEMOIR OF JAMES FERRIER 5 
 
 incidental touches in the correspondence and diary of his 
 friend and colleague, Sir Walter Scott, it is not hard to see 
 what manner of man James Ferrier was, what were those 
 special features of his daughter's mind and character 
 which came to her by right of inheritance, and how far his 
 observed peculiarities formed a part of her literary stock- 
 in-trade. 1 
 
 TO J. F. F. 
 
 There is a natural desire in the human heart to connect 
 the past with the future, and we are unwilling to consign to 
 oblivion the memory of those we most loved and reverenced 
 in life. I am now one of the few remaining links which 
 connect the past generation of my family with that which 
 is now succeeding, and I would fain transmit some slight 
 record of my dear father's early life to those who may 
 hereafter inherit his name, but to whom his character must 
 be otherwise unknown. The particulars I had from him- 
 self, and I shall relate them as simply and faithfully as I 
 can with few comments, though perhaps not without my 
 own and others' inferences. His paternal grandfather, 
 Mr. William Ferrier, possessed the small property of Kirk- 
 lands, in Renfrewshire, subsequently sold to the Blantyre 
 family, and which my father once pointed out to me as 
 now forming part of their beautiful demesnes on the 
 banks of the Clyde. As the smallest landed proprietor in 
 those days had a * man of business ' in Edinburgh, Mr. 
 Campbell, of Succoth, was the law agent of the small laird 
 of Kirklands, 2 whose son John he also received into his 
 office as clerk. There he remained till his marriage with 
 
 1 Of this biographical notice Mr. private perusal," and I hope by laying 
 
 John Ferrier writes thus : 'This short it open to "public perusal" I have 
 
 sketch from my aunt's pen of her not acted unwisely, 
 father's early life shows the indomi- 'April 12, 1897. J. F.' 
 
 table and persevering spirit that Some of the notes to this sketch 
 
 eventually led him to the top of an are by Miss Ferrier, some by Mr. 
 
 honourable, useful, though harassing John Ferrier. They are distinguished 
 
 profession. It was written for my by their respective initials, 
 father (Professor J. F. Ferrier), and 2 There was also, I believe, a dis- 
 
 endorsed by the writer " for his own tant relationship. (S. E. F.) 
 
6 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 the daughter of Captain Walter Sandilands Hamilton of 
 Westport (commonly styled Sir Walter), 1 when he removed 
 to Linlithgow and took up his abode with his father-in-law 
 in the family mansion at the west end of the town. This 
 old gentleman had early in life been aide-de-camp to 
 General Churchill, and on retiring from the army was 
 appointed sheriff of the shire, for which duty, as may be 
 supposed, he was quite incompetent, and soon had to 
 relinquish. At the time of his daughter's marriage he was 
 very gouty and infirm, a proof of which occurred within 
 my father's recollection. Having been seized with a fit of 
 the gout while in Edinburgh, and detained there longer 
 than was convenient, he was anxious to return home, but, 
 being unable to ride on horseback, he had no alternative but 
 to be carried all the way in a sedan chair. There were no 
 public carriages in those days, and the only private ones 
 which ever performed the journey were those of the Dukes 
 of Argyll and Montrose, which regularly ploughed their 
 way (for roads were not) with six horses once a year to 
 their respective family seats. My father was the third son 
 of his parents ; he was born in the beginning of 1744, and, 
 according to the custom of those days, was sent out to be 
 nursed. The following year the rebellion broke out and 
 everything was thrown into such confusion (families not 
 knowing when or where they might have to fly), that it 
 was thought best to leave the nursling where he was, 
 rather than add to other cares that of a teething and 
 scarcely weaned infant. Towards the end of the '45, 
 when the panic had somewhat subsided, he was 
 brought home ; but by this time his affections were 
 
 1 His father, a cadet of the the town of Linlithgow, adjoining an 
 
 Torphichen family, had assumed the elegant gateway towards the west, 
 
 name of Hamilton on his marriage with which was taken down about the year 
 
 the heiress of Westport. (S. E. F.) 1770. From Anderson's History of 
 
 [Nisbet in his Heraldry says that this the House of Hamilton.} The old 
 
 family is descended from Silvertonhill. house still stands (1897) overshadowed 
 
 The origin of the title of the family is by a fine old tree said to have been 
 
 from the mansion house having been planted by Mary Stuart. (J. F.) 
 built immediately within the walls of 
 
CH. i MEMOIR OF JAMES FERRIER / 
 
 so riveted to his nurse, that the separation seemed likely 
 to cost him his life. The attempt was therefore given up 
 for the present, trusting that he would soon learn to prefer 
 the superior attractions of the paternal home to the poor 
 comfortless dwelling of his nurse. But they had ill calcu- 
 lated on the strength and permanency of his affections, 
 which seemed literally to grow with his growth and 
 strengthened with his strength, as all endeavours to 
 counteract or overcome them proved unavailing. It is 
 probable these had been injudicious, for a young heart 
 capable of such attachment might surely by love and tender- 
 ness have had its affections gently and gradually turned 
 into other channels, and how full and deep the stream of 
 his affection was, they can attest who were the objects of it. 
 Every method that was tried proved in vain. When, 
 forcibly withheld from his nurse he neither ate nor slept, 
 but either wept or pined, or else contrived to make his 
 escape and find his way to the poor cottage where no- 
 thing awaited him but a scanty fare and a fond welcome. 
 This went on for a considerable time, till at last his parents 
 became so exasperated that when he did occasionally visit 
 home he found himself an object of dislike to them, and of 
 contempt and derision to his brothers and sisters. This, 
 of course, only confirmed his preference for the humble 
 abode where he was fondled and caressed and consoled for 
 the humiliations he experienced at home. His parents 
 now began to suspect that undue influence was used for 
 the sake of his board, which they therefore resolved to 
 discontinue as the most likely method of breaking the tie ; 
 they accordingly warned the nurse and her husband that 
 if they continued to encourage him in his estrangement 
 from his own family it should be at their own charge, as 
 in future they should receive no remuneration whatever. 
 The poor people took them at their word, and declared he 
 should be welcome to share what they had to give with 
 their own children, and the only difference between them 
 was that they always spoke of and treated him (as far as 
 
8 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 they possibly could) as the son of a gentleman and the 
 grandson of ' Sir Walter.' Indeed, the nurse's affection 
 was, if possible, increased, and its demonstrations redoubled, 
 though the poverty of these warm-hearted people was such 
 that my father assured me he never had seen a plentiful meal 
 on their table during the thirteen years he dwelt with them, 
 and had scarcely ever known what it was to have enough to 
 eat even of the humblest fare. His parents kept their threat ; 
 they paid his clothes and schooling and nothing more, and 
 every year increased the feelings of aversion and animosity 
 between two parties placed in such unequal circumstances, 
 where power was entirely in the hands of one had they 
 known how to use it with love. At the Grammar School 
 of Linlithgow he every day met his brothers, who never 
 ceased to taunt him as the son of Nurse Barr ; this she 
 highly resented as an affront to him, whom she was most 
 desirous to keep on a level with themselves in all outward 
 appearances and appliances. In this it may be supposed 
 she did not always succeed, as one little trait may suffice to 
 show. Observing that his brothers' shoes were brighter than 
 his (although the best in those days were probably not 
 according to Warren), she procured some train oil with 
 which she smeared his all over. The consequence was the 
 smell was so insufferable he was hooted and driven out of 
 the schoolroom. He used to mention this as one of the 
 many mortifications he had to encounter, and which made 
 childhood anything but a season of happiness to him. 
 Added to these, he had the consciousness he was doing 
 wrong in absenting himself from his father's house, and 
 living on such unnatural terms with his own family. So 
 after many struggles in his own mind, carried on for 
 several years, he at last, of his own accord, went to his 
 parents, acknowledged his fault, and asked to be forgiven 
 and restored to his proper place in the family. The last 
 request was immediately complied with, but it may be 
 doubted whether the pardon was cordially granted, or at 
 least till a later period, when his own good conduct must 
 
CH. i MEMOIR OF JAMES FERRIER 9 
 
 have gained their esteem if not their affection. At the 
 time when this reconciliation took place he was about 
 thirteen, his eldest brother (William) l had entered the 
 navy, the second (Walter) 2 had gone, or was going, to 
 India, and his destination would have been the army 
 but for an accident which had befallen him some years 
 previously. When at play with some other boys he fell with 
 violence upon a piece of wood in which was a rusty nail 
 that entered his eye, and after much suffering, and probably 
 mismanagement, finally deprived him of sight in that 
 member. Most likely skilful treatment might have pre- 
 served or restored it, and so have entirely changed his future 
 career in life. Be that as it may, it rendered the choice of a 
 profession for him a matter of doubt and deliberation, and 
 the commission intended for him was transferred to his 
 younger brother I slay. 3 Happily the other eye, so far 
 from having been affected by the misfortune of its 
 companion, seemed to have acquired a double portion 
 of strength and clearness of vision, which, in spite of 
 the very laborious duty it had to perform during the 
 course of a long and busy life, continued unimpaired to 
 the close of eighty-six years. He had been but a few 
 months at home when his mother's only surviving brother, 
 Major Hamilton, having obtained leave of absence from 
 his regiment, then in Flanders, came to see his father, who 
 was now quite superannuated, and, I believe, died soon 
 after his son's return. He (Major H.) must have been a 
 man of a superior mind, and of a penetrating and discrimi- 
 nating judgment. As so far from adopting the prejudice 
 the other members of the family still harboured against the 
 alien, he, on the contrary, had soon discovered the excellence 
 of his nephew's character, and evinced a strong and marked 
 predilection in his favour. Omitting several proofs of the 
 confidence he had placed in him, the last was too remark - 
 
 1 Succeeded to the Westport estate hill, (J. F.) 
 
 1762 ; assumed the name of Hamilton. 3 Afterwards Major-General Islay 
 
 ( J. F. ) Ferrier and Governor of Dumbarton 
 
 2 Married Miss Wallace of Cairn- Castle, where he died 1824. (J. F.) 
 
IO PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 able not to be mentioned. Major H., having been suddenly 
 recalled to his regiment (then about to be engaged, I forget 
 on what occasion), before leaving Scotland he executed a 
 trust deed empowering his nephew to act for him, and 
 manage his affairs in his absence, overlooking the fact that 
 his appointed factor wanted some months of being of an age 
 when the law would have authorised him to act for himself. 
 It was said his uncle's intentions in his favour went further 
 than this, but that upon his death, which took place soon 
 after, 1 his nephew cancelled every document which was in 
 his own favour, and allowed the law to take its course. 
 But of this he said nothing himself; it would have been 
 most unlike him if he had. I remember hearing my 
 mother more than once repeat this trait, which she had 
 from some member of his own family. This appointment 
 of his uncle's probably suggested the idea of placing him 
 in a writer's office, and his father's former master, Mr. 
 Campbell of Succoth, then at the head of the profession, 
 received him into his when little more than fourteen. 
 From that time his allowance from his father was ten 
 pounds per annum, and with that and his own earnings he 
 not only supported himself respectably, but as these in- 
 creased he procured masters for such branches of education 
 as he had not hitherto had opportunities of acquiring. His 
 good conduct, zeal, fidelity, integrity, and superior abilities, 
 it may be inferred, gained for him the confidence and 
 esteem of his master, by whom he had long been treated as 
 one of his own family and with whose son, Islay (afterwards 
 President of the Court of Session), he formed a friendship 
 which lasted for life. The second son had been destined 
 to follow his father's profession, but disappointed these 
 
 1 I am not sure whether he was Sir Walter Hamilton, of Westport, 
 
 not killed in battle. (S. F.) [He Bart., deceased. 
 
 was not, as the following notices occur September 12, 1762. At London, 
 
 in the Scots Magazine : Sir James Hamilton, of Westport, 
 
 August 13, 1762. At Portsmouth, Bart, (the uncle alluded to) ; he was 
 
 on his return from Senegal, Captain wounded at Fontenoy. (J. F.)] 
 Thomas Hamilton, youngest son of 
 
CH. i MEMOIR OF JAMES FERRIER 1 1 
 
 expectations by falling into idle dissipated habits, and 
 died abroad. As Mr. C. advanced in years, an able assis- 
 tant became necessary for him to carry on the extensive 
 and important business entrusted to him, and he gradually 
 devolved upon his young protege much of the confidence 
 reposed in himself. He therefore prepared to follow out 
 the course prescribed in order to qualify himself for taking 
 his place in the highest grade of the profession. About 
 this time, I believe it was when only three and twenty, he 
 made what to many might have proved a ruinous step, but 
 which, in spite of severe struggles and privations, proved a 
 happy union. Helen Coutts was the daughter of a farmer 
 near Montrose, and her sole endowments were virtue, 
 beauty, and sweetness of disposition. She had come to 
 Edinburgh to reside with an aunt, the Hon. Mrs. Maitland, 
 the widow of a younger son of Lord Lauderdale. She had 
 been left in poor circumstances, and lived in a small house 
 in the Canongate, which she shared with the young couple, 
 till their increasing family and my father's rising situation 
 made it necessary he should have a house of his own. It 
 was considered great elevation when he took possession of 
 a flat in Lady Stairs Close, just vacated by Sir James 
 Pulteney and his wife Lady Bath. I have often heard him 
 mention this as a fact which would appear almost incredible 
 to a future generation, as the situation is now one of the 
 most beggarly description. At that time, such was the 
 scarcity of accommodation, Mr. Campbell lived in a flat 
 in James's Court, with a pretty large family of children, in 
 which all his business was carried on. The small room, or 
 rather closet, in which my father wrote had no fireplace, 
 and when the Duke of Argyll or any of the principal clients 
 dined with their agent (as happened occasionally), the only 
 drawing-room was Mr. and Mrs. Campbell's bedroom. I 
 am not certain at what period Mr. Campbell's death oc- 
 curred, but when it did his assistant became his successor 
 and to the greater part of his extensive and important 
 business. That he managed to the entire satisfaction of 
 
12 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 his clients, with many of whom he lived in habits of great 
 personal friendship, in particular with the benevolent and 
 patriotic John, Duke of Argyll, to whom in his latter days 
 he devoted a considerable portion of his time, and through 
 whose interest (most strenuously exerted) he was finally 
 appointed one of the principal Clerks of Session. The 
 business of W.S. he then resigned to his sons. The duties 
 of this office, while they afforded sufficient occupation for 
 his able and active mind, enabled him to devote more time 
 than he had hitherto done to the most important of all 
 studies, that of the Holy Scriptures, which formed the 
 greater part of his daily reading during his declining years, 
 and opened up to him clearer views of the Divine character 
 than had been conveyed to his young mind by those with 
 whom his early days had been passed. In the conviction 
 of the sinfulness of man in his unrenewed state, and in the 
 humble hope in the atoning merits of Him whose blood 
 ' cleanseth from all sin/ he departed this life January 18, 
 1829, aged eighty-six. 1 
 
 1 Mr. Terrier's grandfather, old separation ! She then went to reside 
 Captain Sandilands Hamilton, served with her sister, Mrs. Burns, at Bo'ness, 
 in thirteen campaigns under Marl- near Linlithgow. His fortune, which 
 borough, and became in his old age was considerable 30,0007. he left 
 quite doited, and had the chairs all to his niece, who married the eighth 
 drawn up in squadrons like the battle of Earl of Dalhousie. Her father, I 
 Malplaquet, and old Aunty Moll (his think, was Governor of South Carolina, 
 sister-in-law), as she was denominated, and he built a magnificent drawing- 
 was a lieutenant, and his nurse, an room to his house, which stands quite 
 old woman who attended him, was a near the entrance to the Palace of 
 sentinel with a stick over her shoulder ! Linlithgow. There is an account of 
 The circumstances under which Anne Dr. Glen in Kay's Edinburgh Por- 
 Ferrier (a sister of my great-grand- traits, a scarce and valuable work, 
 father) obtained a husband are strange My great-grandfather used to relate 
 and worth recording here. Dr. Glen, how he had as a boy walked all the 
 a rich old and miserly physician of way from Edinburgh to Linlithgow, 
 Edinburgh, paid his addresses to her. sixteen miles, to see his grandmother, 
 She said she would marry him on one who set down before him as luncheon 
 condition, that he gave her a carriage, a pigeon pie, the aspect of which 
 to which he agreed. The marriage pleased him much, and he said as he 
 took place, and the carriage was pre- stuck the knife into it he thought he 
 sented, but when she asked for horses would make his dinner upon it. ' Will 
 he said they were not included in the ye so ? ' said his grandmother, and 
 compact, and no horses would he she immediately snatched it up and 
 give her. On which she instil ted carried it off, leaving him to make his 
 proceedings against him in the Court dinner upon the glance he had had of 
 of Session, which ended in a judicial it ! He certainly could not have com- 
 
CH. i MISS FERRIER'S PARENTS 13 
 
 Scott, James Ferrier's colleague in the Clerkship of the 
 Session House, wrote thus of him : ' Honest old Mr. Ferrier 
 is dead at extreme old age. I confess I should not wish 
 to live so long. He was a man with strong passions and 
 strong prejudices, but with generous and manly senti- 
 ments at the same time. We used to call him Uncle Adam, 
 after that character in his gifted daughter's novel of the 
 " Heiress." ' l And three days later he writes, ' saw the last 
 duty rendered to my old friend, whose age was 
 
 Like a lusty winter, 
 Frosty but kindly. 
 
 I mean in a moral as well as physical sense.' 2 
 
 A characteristic story is told earlier : 
 
 ' Uncle Adam (vide " Inheritance"), who retired last year 
 from an official situation at the age of eighty-four, although 
 subject to fits of giddiness, and although carefully watched 
 by his accomplished daughter, is still in the habit of walking 
 by himself if he can by possibility make an escape. The 
 other day in one of these excursions he fell against a lamp- 
 post, cut himself much, bled a good deal, and was carried 
 home by two gentlemen. What said old Rugged and 
 Tough? Why, that his fall against the post was the 
 luckiest thing that could have befallen him, for the bleed- 
 ing was exactly the remedy for his disorder ! ' 3 
 
 A sketch of Mrs. Ferrier has already appeared in print. 
 * Mrs. Ferrier (nfo Coutts) was the daughter of a farmer 
 at Gourdon, near Montrose. She was very amiable, and 
 possessed of great personal beauty, as is attested by her 
 portrait by Sir George Chalmers, Bart., in a fancy dress, 
 and painted 1765. At the time of her marriage (1767) she 
 resided at the Abbey of Holyrood Palace with an aunt, the 
 Honourable Mrs. Maitland, widow of a younger son of 
 Lord Lauderdale's, who had been left in poor circumstances, 
 and had charge of the apartments there belonging to the 
 Argyll family. After their marriage Mr. and Mrs. Ferrier 
 occupied a flat in Lady Stair's Close (old town of Edin- 
 
 plained of being spoilt in his young tippenny, ae night to your foweroors, 
 
 days. (J. F.) before some leddies ? ' 
 
 There may have been a dim recol- ' Journal of Sir W. Scott, vol. ii. 
 
 lection of this in the speech of Mrs. p. 2.2.1. 
 
 Macshake : ' Do ye mind how ye was 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 223. 
 
 affronted because I set ye doon to a 3 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 342. 
 cauld pigeon pie and a tanker o' 
 
14 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 burgh), and which had just been vacated by Sir James 
 Pulteney and his wife Lady Bath.' 1 
 
 The family of James Ferrier consisted of six sons and 
 four daughters. Of the sons three pursued their father's 
 profession. These were John, who died in 1851 and who was, 
 by his marriage with Margaret Wilson, sister of Christopher 
 North, the father of the metaphysician ; Archibald Camp- 
 bell, who married Miss Garden, and died in 1814; and 
 Walter, who married Miss Gordon, and died in 1856. Two 
 other brothers, James and William Hamilton, went into 
 the army and died in India, both in 1804. Between Susan 
 and her brother James there was, as we shall see from this 
 correspondence, a special intimacy and attachment. A 
 sixth brother, Lorn, also in the army, died in 1801 in 
 Demerara. 2 Susan was the youngest of the family and was 
 the only one of the four daughters who did not marry. 
 Jane married in 1804 Colonel (afterwards General) Graham, 
 and died in 1846. Janet married in 1796 Mr. Connell of 
 Conheath, and died in 1848, while Helen, who married in 
 1800 Mr. Kinloch, a London banker, survived till 1866. 
 
 Of Jane her great nephew writes this : * Mrs. Graham 
 was a very clever artist and copied the rich carvings that 
 adorned the ceiling of the King's Room, Stirling Castle, a 
 work published by Blackwood 1817 under the name of 
 " Lacuna Strivelinense, or a Collection of Heads." It is now 
 very scarce and seldom to be met with. In her youth she 
 was a beauty, so much so that she fired the muse of Robert 
 Burns when on her way home to her father's house in 
 George Street. One verse is 
 
 Jove's tuneful dochters, three times three, 
 
 Made Homer deep their debtor ; 
 But gien the body half an e'e 
 
 Nine Ferriers wad done better ! 
 
 At the time the lady was twenty and was betrothed to 
 one of the Campbells of Ardkinlass, who was subsequently 
 killed in battle. Many years after she married General 
 Graham. Her father would not give his consent to the 
 marriage until he was a General, which rank he attained 
 through the intervention of the beautiful Lady Charlotte 
 
 1 Mr. John Ferrier's introduction to 2 He was in the 42nd (the Black 
 
 Bentley's edition of Marriage, p. 5. Watch). 
 
CH. i MISS FERRIER'S EARLY LIFE 15 
 
 Campbell with the Earl of Moira, who was then Commander 
 of the Forces in Scotland. On her marriage Lady Char- 
 lotte (a friend from her early years) wrote to her : 
 
 ' " For Mrs. Brigadier-General Graham. This comes to 
 felicitate J. C." 
 
 Inside the cover : 
 
 '" Miss Ferrier/^ ultima volta^ Is it not strange that 
 I should write for the last time to Jane Ferrier without 
 sorrow ? A thousand joys to Jane Graham. You have not 
 time or power to read a long epistle. I merely trace these 
 lines expressive of my best and kindest wishes, that since I 
 cannot in person be present at the ceremony my heart may 
 wing its way to you. My husband after his fashion mani- 
 fests his sincere joy, and would have been very witty if I 
 had allowed him. God bless you, my dear friend, not less 
 so as a married than you ever were as a single woman, and 
 in this pleasing belief I remain, with pleasure as well as 
 with affection, Jane Graham's heartily affectionate 
 
 C. M. CAMPBELL/ " 
 
 (From Memoir of General Graham^ by his son, Colonel J. J. Graham.) 
 
 The only surviving recollection, as it would seem, of 
 Miss Ferrier's childhood is sufficiently characteristic. She 
 had, it is said, great powers of mimicry. On one occasion 
 her brothers and sisters, all, be it remembered, older than 
 herself, had engaged in illicit pranks in the supposed 
 absence of their elders. Suddenly they were alarmed by 
 the sounds of their father's voice sounds, however, which, 
 as was afterwards discovered, really came from the youngest 
 of the family. 
 
 The death of her mother and the marriages of her sisters 
 left Susan Ferrier the mistress of her father's house. How 
 she filled that post can be in a measure judged from her 
 own correspondence. One of the few survivors of the 
 generation who knew her in her days of youth and vivacity 
 describes her as ' dark, tall and handsome, a most attractive 
 personality, and a brilliant conversationalist ; the centre of 
 a brilliant coterie in Edinburgh.' * Such is the recollection 
 of Sir Douglas Maclagan, the son of the Dr. Maclagan 
 more than once referred to in the following correspondence 
 
 1 The tradition of her own family shows a vigorous and expressive face, 
 does not confirm this account of Miss with fairly well-shaped but not very 
 Ferrier's good looks. The miniature regular features. 
 
16 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 CH. I 
 
 as Miss Ferrier's family physician. 1 The same informant 
 adds that his father found that the charm of Miss Ferrier's 
 conversation invariably led him to spend three-quarters of 
 an hour on his visits to her instead of the conventional 
 quarter of an hour. To avoid this the duty of visiting was 
 transferred to the son, with the result that a like waste of 
 time followed in his case. 
 
 Few societies could have been found better fitted to 
 give scope and pasture for Miss Ferrier's gifts than that of 
 Edinburgh at the beginning of the century. It had the 
 concentration which belongs to an intellectual oligarchy. 
 The generation indeed was passing away with whom, as 
 described by Lockhart, ' the style of visiting altogether was 
 different from the ceremonious sort of fashion now in vogue. 
 They did not deal in six weeks' invitations and formal 
 dinners, but they formed at a few hours' notice snug little 
 supper parties/ 
 
 Though that state of things was disappearing, much 
 of the easy intimacy which it begot survived, while at the 
 same time Edinburgh life became more and more leavened 
 by widening literary influences. Such a society was just 
 fitted to perfect the gifts which Miss Ferrier needed and to 
 furnish her with the material on which to work. In the 
 narrow limits of such a community satire does not require 
 to be more than allusive, or to burden itself with cumbrous 
 prefaces and explanations. It was, moreover, a self-de- 
 scribing and self-criticizing society. The reader of Lord 
 Cockburn's ' Memoirs,' of Lockhart's * Peter's Letters,' of the 
 correspondence of Mrs. Grant of Laggan soon finds that 
 he is moving in a limited society of recurrent persons and 
 incidents. How vigorous the life of that society was is 
 perhaps best shown by the diversified lights in which it 
 presents itself according to the temper and prepossessions 
 of the observer. In the pages of Cockburn 2 we read of a 
 faction-ridden community full of bitterness and ill-feeling. 
 In the early careers of Lockhart and Wilson we seem to 
 see under the conventional amenities of biography a bear- 
 
 1 Sir Douglas Maclagan, M.D., members of his family, 
 
 late Professor of Medicine in Edin- 2 This applies to the early Henry 
 
 burgh University, is the elder brother Cockburn, the vehement and often 
 
 of the present Archbishop of York. arrogant and embittered Radical 
 
 The father was President of the partisan ; not to the mellower and 
 
 Scotch College of Surgeons. His more mature Cockburn, a Whig in 
 
 recollections of Miss Ferrier are com- politics, in all else the most strenuous 
 
 municated by one of the younger of Tories 
 
CH. i LITERARY SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH \J 
 
 garden of literary brawlers. Yet Mrs. Grant, something of 
 an optimist, but no fool, could describe the world in which 
 she lived as one where * all the persons most distinguished 
 and admired speak with a degree of respect and kindness of 
 each other no petty animosities or invidious diminutions, 
 even though differing much on political or other subjects.' 
 There were two other wholesome features in the Edinburgh 
 life of the eighteenth century. It was neither prosaic nor 
 provincial. Running through all the Scotch literature of 
 that time we see that half-humorous, half-romantic per- 
 sonification which we have in Lady Nairn's * Farewell to 
 Edinburgh.' This was largely due to the fact that no 
 inhabitant of Edinburgh was ever suffered to forget that 
 the city was part of a wider community. In reading the 
 letters and memoirs of that day we are reminded at every 
 turn of the intimate connection between the life of Edin- 
 burgh and that of the aristocracy and landed gentry. This 
 was largely kept alive by the fact that the townsman of 
 Edinburgh never allowed himself to be divorced from 
 rural pursuits and tastes. Lockhart tells us that * It was 
 looked upon as quite inconsistent with the proper character 
 of an advocate, to say nothing of a judge, to want l some 
 piece of land, the superintendence of the cultivation of 
 which might afford an agreeable no less than profitable 
 relaxation from the toils of the profession. It was under- 
 stood that every lawyer spent the Saturday or Sunday of 
 every week in the milder part of the year not in Edinburgh, 
 but at his farm or villa.' Lockhart further illustrates this 
 by describing Jeffrey at Craigcrook 'talking of Swedish 
 turnips, and Frain grass, and red-blossomed potatoes.' 
 
 Thus no Edinburgh man of letters could look down on 
 the country man as the London wit of the last century 
 looked down on Squire Western and Tony Lumpkin. 
 There was no danger of that sharp moral and intellectual 
 severance between town and country from which France 
 has suffered. 
 
 One feature of the world wherein Miss Ferrier lived 
 was too noticeable and had too marked an influence on her 
 writings to be overlooked, the existence of that ' singular 
 race of excellent Scotch old ladies ' whom Lord Cockburn 
 has described in a well-known passage. They were, he 
 tells us, ' merry even in solitude, very resolute, indifferent 
 
 1 It is probably needless to say, ' to lack,' not to desire. 
 
1 8 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 about the modes and habits of the modern world ; and 
 adhering to their own ways so as to stand out like primitive 
 rocks above ordinary society. Their prominent qualities 
 of sense, human affection and spirit were embodied in 
 curious outsides, for they all dressed and spoke and did 
 exactly as they chose ; their language, like their habits, 
 entirely Scotch, but without any other vulgarity than what 
 perfect naturalness is sometimes mistaken for.' They meet 
 us again and again in the pages of Scott, of Lockhart, and 
 of Lady Anne Barnard, and we feel that with Miss Ferrier 
 we are never far from them and their atmosphere. 
 
 It may not be out of place to see how one of the type 
 could present herself to three observers of different temper 
 and character, since in the cross lights thus given lies, I 
 think, the key to a good deal of Miss Ferrier's humour. 
 * Miss Menie Trotter/ Lord Cockburn tells us, ' was of the 
 agrestic order ten miles at a stretch was nothing to her. 
 Her attire accorded. But her understanding was fully as 
 masculine. Though slenderly endowed, she did unnoticed 
 acts of liberality for which most of the rich would expect 
 to be advertised.' He then describes how every autumn 
 ' an ox was sacrificed to hospitality * and * regularly eaten 
 from nose to tail,' and how friends would be pressed to 
 dine, with the warning ' we're terrible near the tail noo.' 
 She figures with more dignity in Mrs. Grant's pages as a 
 hostess of ' stately form, and firm, energetic, high-principled 
 character,' entertaining a few visitors, 'always people of 
 mind and intellect.' 
 
 We have a third description of her more sympathetic 
 than Lord Cockburn's, and more observant than Mrs. Grant. 
 ' Mystifications ' l is a rare enough work, and the character of 
 Miss Trotter is germane enough to my subject, to justify a 
 quotation in full : 
 
 * She was penurious in small things, but her generosity 
 
 1 Miss Clementina Stirling Graham the lower classes, she succeeded in 
 
 of Duntrune possessed a remark- completely ' mystifying ' or taking in 
 
 able gift of impersonation, which she such men as Lord Jeffrey, Sir William 
 
 practised in the most intrepid manner Fettes, Count Flahault, and others, 
 
 on some of the leading members of In later years she was persuaded to 
 
 Edinburgh society in the first quarter print for private circulation some of 
 
 of the present century. her experiences ' in character. ' 
 
 Assuming sometimes the character They were edited by Dr. John 
 
 of some imaginary lady of an earlier Brown and privately printed in 1859. 
 
 generation such as * Lady Pitlyal ' A second edition was printed for 
 
 or * Lady Catherine Howard,' some- publication in 1865. It is from this 
 
 times that of a beggar, or woman of that the extract in the text is taken. 
 
en. i MISS MENIE TROTTER 19 
 
 could rise to circumstances. Her dower was an annuity 
 from the estate of Mortonhall. She had a contempt for 
 securities, and would trust no bank with her money, but kept 
 all her bills and banknotes in a green silk bag that hung on 
 her toilet-glass. On each side of the table stood a large 
 white bowl, one of which contained her silver, the other 
 her copper money, the latter always full to the brim, ac- 
 cessible to Peggy, her hand-maid, or any other servant in 
 the house, for the idea of any one stealing money never 
 entered her brain. Indeed, she once sent a present to her 
 niece, Mrs. Cuninghame, of a fifty-pound note wrapped up 
 in a cabbage leaf, and entrusted it to the care of a woman 
 who was going with a basket of butter to the Edinburgh 
 market. My friend Mrs. Cuninghame related to me this 
 and the following histories of her aunt : 
 
 ' One day, in the course of conversation, she said to her 
 
 niece, " Do ye ken, Margaret, that Mrs. Thomas R is 
 
 dead ? I was gaun by the door this morning, and thought 
 I would just look in and speer for her. She was very near 
 her end, but quite sensible, and expressed her gratitude to 
 God for what He had done for her and her fatherless bairns. 
 She said ' She was leaving a large, young family with very 
 small means, but she had that trust in Him that they 
 would not be forsaken, and that He would provide for them.' 
 Now, Margaret, ye'll tell Peggy to bring down the green 
 silk bag that hangs on the corner of my looking-glass, and 
 ye'll tak' twa thousand pounds out o' it, and gi'e it to 
 Walter Ferrier for behoof of thae orphan bairns ; it will fit 
 out the laddies, and be something to the lassies. I want to 
 make good the words, ' that God wad provide for them,' for 
 what else was I sent that way this morning, but as a 
 humble instrument in His hands ? " 
 
 ' Miss Trotter had a friendship for a certain Mrs. B 
 
 who had an only son, and he was looked on as a simpleton, 
 but his relatives had interest to get him a situation as clerk 
 in a bank, where he contrived to steal money to the extent 
 of five hundred pounds. His peculations were discovered, 
 and in those days he would have been hanged, but Miss 
 Trotter, hearing the report, started instantly for Edinburgh, 
 went to the bank, and ascertained the truth. She at once 
 laid down five hundred pounds, telling them, " Ye r maun not 
 only stop proceedings, but ye maun keep him in the bank 
 in some capacity, however mean, till I find some other 
 employment for him." Then she fitted the lad out, and sent 
 
 C 2 
 
20 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 him to London, where she had a friend, to whom she wrote, 
 offering another five hundred pounds to any one who would 
 procure him a situation abroad in which he might gain an 
 honest living, and never be trusted with money. 
 
 ' After all this was settled she went herself and com- 
 municated the facts to his mother. 
 
 ' When she was confined to bed, and felt that her end was 
 approaching, she bid Mrs. Cuninghame look at a little coarse 
 engraving of a young man that hung on the wall of her 
 room in a black frame. 
 
 ' " Do ye ken, Margaret, whase picture that is ? I would 
 like to tell you about it. That's Jamie Pitcairn ; he was 
 but a young medical student in thae days, but he rose to 
 distinction in his profession after that. 
 
 ' " He was of a noble nature, and had a kindly heart, and 
 he was the only one in the whole world that ever showed 
 me any tenderness or affection ; and weel did I love him ; 
 indeed, we were deeply attached to ane anither. 
 
 1 " My mother and my sister Johanna were proud an' 
 overbearing, and looked down upon Jamie, but my auldest 
 sister, Mrs. Douglas, had a mair feeling heart, and often 
 took me with her to visit at Dr. Cullen's, where I met Jamie, 
 and mony happy hours we spent there. Whiles he wad 
 come and drink tea with Mrs. Douglas ; her house was at 
 the head of the Links, and the windows looked out upon the 
 country and up to Arthur's Seat and the Salisbury Craigs. 
 One evening we three sat there building our airy castles ; 
 a happy party ; the beautiful world before us, and the 
 birds singing joyously, when the door opened, and four 
 black eyes like a thunder-cloud darkened the room. They 
 fell upon me like a spell that froze my very heart's blood. 
 I can never forget the look of disdain they coost upon 
 Jamie. He never spoke, but took up his hat, gave one 
 kind look to me, opened the door and left the room, and I 
 never saw him again. 
 
 ' " They were cruel to me. I was ta'en hame to suffer, 
 and he never married. 
 
 1 " I had no friend left, for Mrs. Douglas went to France 
 for the education of her only daughter, who in the course 
 of time became Lady Dick of Prestonfield. So I wandered 
 among the hills, and held communion with Him who is the 
 father of the afflicted, and when I looked over the varied 
 land and the restless sea, and down upon the broom and the 
 flowers that were offering up their mute praise and incense 
 
en. i MISS MENIE TROTTER 21 
 
 to their Creator, I found the * comfort that passes under- 
 standing.' 
 
 ' " Mony ane thought when I gaedthae long walks among 
 the mountains, that I was my lane ; but I never was my 
 lane, for the Maker of this beautiful world was my constant 
 companion." 
 
 ' She was a great reader, and had a highly-cultivated 
 mind ; but, continuing her remarks, said : " I never cared 
 muckle for religious books ; indeed, the only twa books 
 that I thought worth reading were Massillon's Sermons 
 and the New Testament. I didna gae often to the kirk, 
 for I never profited by their lang prayers and their weary 
 sermons ; and I had nae pleasure in looking at the braw 
 folk that cam' there on the Sundays." 
 
 'Pointing again to the engraving, she added, "Now, that's 
 the picture of Jamie Pitcairn." A day or two after this 
 conversation Mrs Cuninghame paid her another visit, 
 and found her still in life, but very feeble. On asking 
 how she felt she replied, " Very weel, but the candle is just 
 done." 
 
 ' She fell asleep the same evening, and her soul returned 
 to Him who gave it.' 
 
 James Ferrier, be it remembered, was Miss Trotter's 
 man of affairs, and the details of her life must have been 
 familiar to Susan Ferrier. It may be fanciful to suppose 
 that we can trace a direct reference to the incidents given 
 above in the character of Uncle Adam. It is certainly 
 not fanciful to see that this typical combination of 
 eccentricity and shrewd judgment, of austerity and 
 cynicism on the surface, with warm and tenacious affection 
 beneath, is just that which inspires some of Miss Ferrier's 
 best and most characteristic, though not most conspicuous, 
 work. 
 
 I may seem to have dwelt at somewhat inordinate 
 length on the features of that society in which Miss Ferrier 
 was brought up and lived. But in her case, far more than 
 in that of many writers, such external conditions were 
 part of the history of her writings. No writer can make 
 bricks without straw, and the work of every novelist will 
 no doubt be largely influenced by those aspects of life with 
 which he has been in contact. But it is obvious that this 
 influence is not in all cases a fixed and equal quantity. A 
 writer who deals with the travail of the human soul, with 
 universal and elementary passions, a writer who prevails 
 
22 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 by sense of proportion and artistic perfection of expression, 
 may be in a great measure independent of scenery and 
 circumstances. The solitude of the Yorkshire moors may 
 have been a needful element in the training of Charlotte 
 Bronte and her sister. The characters of ' Shirley ' and 
 ' Wuthering Heights ' may be brought into fuller relief by 
 local conditions ; they are not tramelled by them, nor 
 dependent on them. It is difficult to imagine a society so 
 barren and featureless, that a chronicle of its sayings and 
 doings by Jane Austen would not be a delight. But work 
 such as Miss Ferrier's, of which the main feature is 
 satire, qualified by kindliness, and restrained and guided 
 by good sense, but not marked by any artistic perfection 
 of style, needs appropriate material drawn from real life. 
 Edinburgh furnished her with exactly that which she 
 needed. The society in which she lived was compact and 
 homogeneous enough to be carefully studied, varied and 
 animated enough to be thoroughly interesting, grotesque 
 enough in some of its phases to give full scope to vigorous 
 and even extravagant humour. 
 
 That is a different thing from saying that Miss 
 Ferrier failed whenever she got beyond the bounds of that 
 life with which she was familiar. She is not a mere 
 realistic satirist of manners. She understood the absur- 
 dities and follies of humanity, not merely those of 
 Scotland. Her gallery of portraits could ill spare Lord 
 Rossville, who is only Scottish by accident, and Dr. Redgill, 
 who is not Scottish at all. Lady Juliana, too, must be rated 
 an able seawoman in that ship of fools which has Mr. 
 Collins for chaplain and Miss Bates for stewardess. But 
 even when the characters themselves are not Scotch, the 
 background against which their follies and absurdities are 
 thrown out is so. Miss Ferrier's comedy is so largely a 
 matter of action and incident that it depends almost as 
 much on circumstance as it does on individual character. 
 She may go abroad in search of individual characters ; 
 she rarely does so for her scenery and atmosphere, and 
 when she does it is always with some loss of power. 
 
 One very notable and somewhat puzzling feature of 
 Miss Ferrier's character is explained by the traditions of 
 the society wherein she lived. ( Morbid ' and ' affected ' 
 are terms which plainly have no place in reference to her. 
 Yet her dread of publicity, her shrinking from the fame 
 and the responsibility of authorship, would on the surface 
 
CH. i DREAD OF LITERARY PUBLICITY 23 
 
 seem to deserve such a description. The reality and the 
 strength of that dread cannot be doubted by any reader 
 of these letters. 1 Partly, no doubt, it was due to a dread of 
 the indignation, not wholly unnatural or unpardonable, 
 which might be shown by the friends who had served as 
 her models. 
 
 But the feeling was more than that. It was in 
 truth a universal tradition, a superstition one might 
 almost call it, which we find in full force among brilliant 
 Scotswomen of that day, every whit as clear sighted and 
 as fearless as Miss Ferrier. Lady Louisa Stuart is half 
 beside herself with alarm and annoyance because a ballad 
 with which Sir Walter had usually been credited, but 
 which she had really composed, was being traced to its 
 true author. 2 Lady Ann Lindsay makes a mystery of the 
 authorship of ' Auld Robin Gray/ and Lady Nairn, in whom 
 courage, frankness and strength of mind met as they have 
 met in few women, or men, would fain pass herself off on 
 her publishers as Mrs. Bogan of Bogan. 
 
 In all likelihood this was due to a feeling that there 
 was about professional authorship a certain taint of Grub 
 Street, a something of Bohemia and of uproarious and 
 rather indecent publicity. That feeling was certainly not 
 likely to be allayed by such an incident as the * Chaldean ' 
 storm, or by the Boswell tragedy, nor indeed by the early 
 careers and the many youthful indiscretions of Lockhart 
 and Wilson. 
 
 The letters appended to this chapter throw light on 
 Miss Ferrier's early relations to her family, and on what 
 one may call her pre-literary life. 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Rosneath : October 12, 1798. 
 
 My dear Roe, 3 You scared me from writing sooner 
 by requiring a description of the illuminations in this 
 quarter, as it exceeds the power of my pen to give any- 
 
 1 Numerous instances will occur. p. 27. 
 
 One of Maginn's many literary indis- 2 See Scott's Letters, vol. i. p. 107. 
 
 cretions was a reference in a London The ballad in question was called 
 
 paper to Miss Ferrier's authorship, Ugly Meg.' One would like to know 
 
 before it was disclosed to the world. whether it had any relation, and if so 
 
 For this he received reproof from what, to 'The Reiver's Wedding.' 
 
 Blackwood. See Mrs. Oliphant's Lockhart throws no light on this. 
 
 History of a Publishing Firm, vol. ii. 3 A pet name. (J. F. ) 
 
24 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 thing like an idea of them, but I shall attempt to outline 
 them, and leave the rest to your fertile imagination. 1 The 
 Duke first discovered that Mr. Vesy had lighted up the new 
 Inn at Ardencaple with great taste and lustre. On looking 
 at the other side of the house Greenock and Port Glasgow 
 were seen blazing through the trees, and on the opposite 
 shore the Town of Helensburgh was like one great lamp. 
 This roused his Grace, who desired his candle chest should 
 be opened, and that nothing might be spared of a com- 
 bustible nature, except the Castle itself, which he could 
 not well do without for that night, as he was not prepared 
 to move to Bellevue. 2 In a short time, the Castle, with the 
 assistance of potatoes and turnips in place of clay, was 
 highly illuminated, and people at a distance say it made a 
 very grand appearance. On the opposite point, Mr. 
 Buchanan's house of Ardenconnel was next lighted up, 
 and, last of all, Lady Augusta 3 took the hint and lighted 
 up Ardencaple. In the former part of the day, from 
 12 till dark, nothing was heard but the roaring of cannon 
 from the ships at Greenock and Port Glasgow, and volleys 
 from the volunteers on shore, so that it was on the whole 
 a very merry day. This victory has had a wonderful 
 effect upon the Duke's health and spirits. He has not 
 complained once since he consented to Lord John's joining 
 his regiment in Ireland, and for some days has taken to 
 his old trade of marking trees to be cut. Lady Augusta 
 and her whole family, including Miss Mure 4 and the 
 
 1 For the naval victory of the Nile. Duke of Hamilton. She was a sister 
 (J. F. ) of Colonel Mure, the well-known 
 
 2 The castle was burnt down in writer on Greece. (J. F.) 
 
 1803. Bellevue was a place the Duke Bessy Mure figures more than once 
 
 had opposite Rosneath. (J. F. ) in Kirkpatrick Sharpe's correspond- 
 
 3 The duke's daughter, Lady ence. Writing in 1812 to Miss 
 Augusta Clavering. She had a beauti- Clavering he says : ' Then I have 
 ful face, and it is said George IV. discovered a new fault in her ; she 
 wanted to marry her in her young doth not understand a joke, which in 
 days. (J. F.) conversation and literary correspond- 
 
 4 Miss Mure of Caldwell. She ence is certainly the sin against the 
 was like one of the family, her father, Holy Ghost.' Letters to and from C. 
 Baron Mure, having been guardian Kirkpatrick Sharpe, vol. i. p. 42. 
 to the duchess's son Douglas, eighth I suspect from the tone of Sharpe's 
 
CH. i LETTERS FROM JAMES FERRIER, SEN. 2$ 
 
 Howdy, 1 are here at present to take leave before setting 
 out for Edinburgh. When she comes there, do all of you 
 take care to keep at a distance from that vile monkey she 
 carries about with her. Jacob, her manservant, who was 
 bit last year by her mad dog, is in danger of losing a 
 finger by a bite from that other favourite a few days ago. 
 Shawfield and Mrs. Campbell came here to dinner 
 yesterday, and are this morning gone to Woodhall? 2 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 Yours most affectionately, 
 
 JA. FERRIER. 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Inveraray 3 : March 17, 1800. 
 
 At present I have no idea, my dear Susan, when I shall 
 get leave of absence from this place, and therefore I could 
 not make any appointment with you, even if there were no 
 other objections to my coming for you. But the truth, my 
 dear girl, is that, from a strain which I gave myself by over 
 fatigue in travelling near twenty years ago, I cannot take 
 such a journey without injuring my health, and therefore 
 must not think of it. I am in hope that your brother 
 William 4 is to be appointed a Captain at this time, and, as 
 he will probably be put on the recruiting service, that he 
 will choose Edinburgh for his station. In that case he will 
 escort you and the Tullochs 5 to Old Reeky, and the boy 
 belonging to them can be sent to Leith by sea. Having 
 sent Mr. Tulloch's letter to John after one reading I do 
 not remember perfectly what he said, but think the charge 
 is laid on me, and that amongst us we must execute 
 
 letters to Miss Mure that this was a Dr. Johnson paid his memorable visit 
 
 temporary outburst of spleen, not a there in 1773. (J. F.) 
 
 deliberate judgment. 4 His fifth son, a captain in the I3th 
 
 1 Monthly nurse. (J. F.) Foot. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Mr. Campbell's place in Lanark- 5 I don't know who the Tullochs 
 shire. (J. F.) are. His daughter was in London, at 
 
 3 I have been told that my great- her sister Mrs. Kinloch's, when this 
 grandfather was at Inveraray when letter was written. (J. F.) 
 
26 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 what is needful to be done. We are now in frost and snow 
 here after an appearance of summer. Adieu, my dearest. 
 
 Yours most affectionately, 
 
 J- F. 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Inveraray : October II, 1800. 
 
 I rejoice, my dear Roe, to hear you are so able and so 
 willing to return to Old Reeky, where you may depend on 
 meeting with a hearty welcome if I happen to be there, 
 which is rather doubtful, for you must know that the Duke 
 appears resolved to winter here, although Lady Augusta, 
 Lady Charlotte, and even Mrs. Trot l are all to leave him and 
 to make their way to London, as is your friend Ashnish, 2 by- 
 the-bye, who is to carry up his daughter, and will be an 
 excellent hand to escort you down. I do not mean, nor is 
 it expected, that I should pass the whole winter at this 
 place, but I suspect that about Christmas, or soon after, I 
 will be drawn towards it and be detained for some time. 
 Ashnish in these circumstances is quite the thing, because 
 if you miss me at Edinburgh and wish to join me here he 
 will . . . [remainder of letter lost] 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Thursday : December 29. 
 
 My dear Roe, I think you must have heard of a scheme 
 which some of my near neighbours had in view of providing 
 me with a housekeeper with one leg, if Jane 3 had not 
 fought her way through the snow, for you have only sent one 
 garter, which will not do for me, who have two limbs, such 
 as they are. By-the-bye, they are very near well, so you 
 must make the other garter forthcoming and may begin 
 another pair as soon as you please, for I shall not spare my 
 legs now that I have got the use of them. I have nothing 
 
 1 I can't discover who Mrs. Trot 2 Mr. Campbell of Ashnish'. (J. F.) 
 was. (J. F.) 3 His eldest daughter. (J. F.) 
 
CH. i LETTERS FROM JAMES FERRIER, SEN. 2/ 
 
 to add but to wish you all a happy new year and to assure 
 you of my warmest affection and esteem. 
 
 P.S. The other garter is arrived, but I cannot be at the 
 trouble of writing another letter. 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Tuesday evening. 
 
 My dear Susan, I have just time to assure you that 
 although I hurt myself very much by my excursion to the 
 Islands I am geting [sic] every day better since I came 
 home, and am already so well as to find no difficulty in 
 discharging my official duty in the Court of Session in the 
 morning, and frequently making visits to my female friends 
 in the evening. For instance, this very night I am to meet 
 Mrs. Hallyday l in a pitched battle at whist and the hour 
 is arrived. Be not, therefore, my dearest, under any alarm 
 about me, for I am become a perfect physician, and promise 
 to take care of myself. I take the cold bath in the morning, 
 which I think has done me much good. Adieu. 
 
 Your most affectionate 
 
 J. F. 
 
 The Duke of Argyll is in good health. I had a long 
 letter from him yesterday. 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 I am sorry, my dearest Susan, that I should have given 
 you any alarm about my health, which I declare to you is 
 as good as you ever knew it, but you must make allowance 
 for tear and wear, and be satisfied with seeing me jog round 
 Glenshira at the rate of five miles an hour in place of dashing 
 
 1 She was an Edmonstone, and barton Castle and brother of Sir 
 
 lived next door to Mr. Ferrier in Archibald, first baronet, and their 
 
 George Street with her sisters, the paternal grandmother was sister to the 
 
 originals of Grizzy, Jacky, and Nicky fourth Duke of Argyll. They are 
 
 in Marriage. Their father, Campbell frequently alluded to in these letters. 
 
 Edmonstone, was Governor of Dum- (J. F. ) 
 
28 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 up and down Glenaray with you at the rate of ten. Old 
 Slug and I are perfectly at one in this matter, for although she 
 is in the most perfect health, fat and sleeked as ever, she is 
 fully more averse to the quiet motion than I am, from which 
 I conclude that slow easy travelling is best for the aged, 
 and almost resolved, if ever I am obliged to go to London, 
 to transport myself in the waggon. I would prefer the sea 
 were it not for the sickness which would be the fruit of that 
 mode. Adieu, my dearest, do not think of leaving Helen 
 till she is better. Present my love to her and James, and 
 believe me, 
 
 I Ever your most affectionate 
 
 J. F. 
 
 COLONEL JAMES FERRIER TO S. E. F. 1 
 
 Paris : February 4, 1803. 
 
 I should have been perfectly charmed with this capital, 
 but as it is, I can but half enjoy the novelties of this abode 
 of luxury and pleasure ; it appears to me an age since I 
 heard from you, but if I could even hear of you I think I 
 should be contented. I, however, live in the hopes that 
 the first letters from England will say that my beloved 
 girl is perfectly recovered. Heaven grant it may be so. 
 
 I wrote Helen 2 last Monday ; since that time I have 
 been so much taken up that I have hardly had a moment 
 to myself. In the first place, I have to inform you that 
 to-morrow I am to be presented to the First Consul, along 
 with several others ; last Thursday I was introduced to 
 
 M. Tallyrand, the first Minster, by Lord W , our 
 
 Ambassador ; this ceremony is absolutely necessary to be 
 gone through before the Consular levee. Lord Whit- 
 worth I am perfectly charmed with ; I think him the 
 
 1 James Ferrier was at the siege of Leicester Square a panorama of the 
 
 Seringapatam in 1799, and came into siege in which her brother figured, 
 
 possession of some of Tippoo Sahib's He succeeded his uncle, Colonel Islay 
 
 valuables brought home to England. Ferrier, in command of the 94th regi- 
 
 His sister, Mrs. Kinloch, states in a ment. (J. F.) 
 letter that she remembers seeing in 2 Mrs. Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
CH. i PARIS IN 1803 20 
 
 most affable man I ever met with. I must delay a 
 description of this place until we meet, as it would fill a 
 volume. I have been at four or five of the thirty opera and 
 play houses that are here. Of all the houses I ever visited, 
 the French Opera is the most agreeable. I shall never be 
 able to relish our own after it, the dancing being in such a 
 superior style to ours. 
 
 There is a politeness about the French that must 
 always make the stranger feel happy in their company ; 
 you would think that their sole pleasure was to please and 
 entertain the company they may happen to be in ; how- 
 ever, they certainly ought to have some good qualities. . . . 
 I shall write you a long letter either by the Monday's post 
 or Wednesday's, which are the days the post leaves this. 
 About the 2Oth or thereabouts I shall be thinking of 
 leaving this, so I hope still to see my dearest the first week 
 in March. If it was summer I should like to return by the 
 low countries, and embark from thence direct for Scotland ; 
 but this is not the season for travelling about. Besides, a 
 long voyage in one of those small packet-boats must be one 
 of the most unpleasant things in the world. I know I never 
 was so sick in my life as crossing from Dover to Boulogne, 
 although we were only four hours. Adieu, my dear, dear 
 Hughie, 1 write your own Moor often, and say particularly 
 how you are. God bless you, my love, and with re- 
 membrances to my father and all at home, I am ever 
 your own Moor, 
 
 J.F. 
 
 COLONEL JAMES FERRIER TO S. E. F. 
 
 Paris : February 15. 
 
 By letters from Helen of the 9th I was a little relieved 
 by hearing that my beloved Hughie was somewhat better, 
 but I am by no means satisfied yet that you are at all as 
 you ought to be. I long much to hear from you, my 
 Hughie, and I trust you will be candid with me in telling 
 
 1 Ther6 is nothing to show the origin or fitness of this name, nor of 
 Moor, which follows. 
 
3O PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 exactly how you are when I see you in Scotland. I shall 
 be able to judge by your appearance, but I am already 
 perfectly convinced that a change of air is absolutely 
 necessary for your recovery, so I'm sure my father will 
 see the necessity of your returning to England with me. 
 I'm convinced he could not put you into the hands of a 
 better nurse^ for no one can love you better than your Moor. 
 I continue to like Paris very much. It is certainly the 
 place of all others for a young man plenty of amusement 
 without dissipation, no drinking ; if a gentleman was seen 
 drunk here he would be looked upon as a perfect bete. I 
 think I wrote you I had been introduced to the chief 
 Consul. I was on Sunday last presented to his lady, who 
 I do not at all admire. The great man spoke to me then 
 again, which is a very unusual thing, and I am told by the 
 French I must be in his good graces ; however, I myself 
 rather think it was my good fortune only ; at all events it 
 has given me much pleasure, for it would have only been 
 doing the thing half if he had not spoken to me. 1 I do 
 not think any of the pictures like him much, although 
 most of them have some resemblance ; they give him a 
 frown in general, which he certainly has not so far from it, 
 that when he speaks he has one of the finest expressions 
 possible. , 
 
 JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Inveraray: September 21, 1803. 
 
 My dear Susan, I received your letter of the 22nd 
 of it.st month, only about ten days ago, in the Island of 
 Tiry, i\^^ whence I returned to this place two days ago, 
 most exceedn jly worn out, both in body and mind, by a 
 very tedious and difficult expedition. I am already much 
 resfreshed, and hope to be able in a few days to set out 
 for Conheath, 2 to see Jess and her family before I enter on 
 
 1 Napoleon questioned him much 2 Near Dumfries, where his daugh- 
 
 about the siege of Seringapatam, and ter Mrs. Connell lived. (J. F. ) 
 about India. (J. F.) 
 
CH. i LETTERS FROM COLONEL JAMES FERRIER 31 
 
 business here, where I must afterwards spend the most of 
 next month. You judged right in thinking that whatever 
 was thought best for your health would be most agreeable 
 to me. I hope Tunbridge will set you fairly up, and make 
 you able to face the north early next summer. Adieu. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 JA. FERRIER. 
 
 FROM COLONEL JAMES FERRIER TO S. E. F. 
 
 (Endorsed by her ' Last letter from my dearest Brother James. 5 ) 
 
 Calcutta: December 17, 1803. 
 
 My dearest Susan, I take the opportunity of an over- 
 land dispatch to write you a few lines, just to say that I 
 am so far well, and am just on the point of setting out by 
 Dawk or post to join the army under General Wellesley. I f 
 I should get up in time I may return home, sooner than you 
 expect, a Nabob, as there is a famous rich fort to take, when 
 we shall all make our fortunes. You must not be angry with 
 me, my dearest sister, for sending so short a letter, as I 
 have 150 things to do. I hope soon to be able to write 
 you a very long letter, and meanwhile, Glod bless you, my 
 love. Remember me to my father and all at home. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 J. FERRIER. 
 
 P.S. I have written Helen a few lines by Colonel 
 Nicholson, who carries home dispatches by sea. Possibly 
 her letter will reach first, in which case Colonel N. will 
 be able to give you all the news, as he has promised 
 to call at B. 1 Square when he can possibly find time. 
 Again adieu, my dearest. Heaven bless you. 
 
 /AMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Inveraray : Sunday, August 4. 
 
 My dear Roe, I am under serious apprehensions 
 that some disappointment has made you take a rash step 
 
 1 Brunswick. (J. F.) 
 
32 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 either at Loch Coat l or amongst the coal pits at Hilder- 
 stoun, as I think nothing short of a broken arm could have 
 prevented your falling upon some excuse for attempting to 
 add a correspondent to your list. I shall not be easy, 
 therefore, till I hear that you are in a sound skin, and 
 desire in the most earnest manner to be informed of the 
 worst by the return of the post. 
 
 We came here on Friday and found the cherries very 
 plentiful and very good, but there is no enjoying every 
 good thing at once. I have not yet seen your friend Mrs. 
 Haswel ; to make up for that loss, however, I had the 
 pleasure of seeing Mrs. Campbell of Stonefield 2 this 
 morning for a minute on her way to Lochgare. There is 
 no pleasure without pain. I had the mortification to find 
 that she had already got a Miss in her train, which 
 prevented my applying to have you taken in tow ; your 
 sisters can shift for themselves, but one of your shy dis- 
 position would be much the better of such a friend. You 
 must bear with your misfortune as well as you can, and 
 look the sharper yourself. Adieu, my dearest Roe. 
 
 Yours most affectionately, 
 J.F. 
 
 FROM JAMES FERRIER, SEN. TO S. E. F. 
 
 Rosneath : Saturday morning. 
 
 My dear Roe, If you have not employed my last epistle 
 more to your mind, open it, and read it again, which will save 
 me the trouble of describing what passed here last night, 
 only adding to the view the arrival in the morning of our 
 frigate Polyphemus, I think they call her, Captain Moore 
 having in tow the French frigate which he had captured 
 upon the coast of Ireland, with 500 armed Russians, who 
 had left their own country to disturb and distress ours ; 
 and figuring to yourself the old Bailie sparkling through 
 the trees at Clachan like the sun itself, with the Manses of 
 
 1 In Linlithgowshire. (J. F.) truther, Bart., of Balcaskie, co. Fife. 
 
 2 Daughter of Sir Robert Ans- (J. F.) 
 
CH. i LETTER FROM JAMES FERRIER, SEN. 33 
 
 Row and Rosneath, one on each hand, shining through the 
 trees which surround them just sufficiently to add to his 
 lustre. You must also take into the account that old Ann 
 in good time lighted up Ardencaple house to great advan- 
 tage, and that two large bonfires were lighted one at 
 Cairndow, the other at the Row. I am glad to add that 
 no accident has happened so far as I can learn, and here 
 im I left with the Duke and Mrs. C. 1 in the old Castle, 
 ill the rest having just set out, including Ashnish and 
 fames Menzies, 2 to visit the frigate, and then put Lord 
 fohn on board Captain Beatson's cutter for Ireland. I 
 suppose you have heard that John takes the opportunity 
 :>f going to see Ireland, which was such a tempting one 
 :hat I could not discourage his embracing it. 3 I think he 
 jrows more absent in conversation, and with the bulls 
 tfhich you may expect him to pick up, is likely to afford 
 ^ou some entertainment when he returns. Lord John 
 oing to join his regiment at this time is congenial to the 
 Duke's feelings as an old soldier, and his health and spirits 
 ire at present luckily equal to the partings which have 
 :aken place. Adieu, my dear girl. 
 
 Yours most affectionately, 
 
 J.F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO HER SISTER MRS. CONNELL (MADRAS] 
 (Written from her sister Mrs. Kinloch's house in London. ) 
 
 London : February 10 [year about 1801]. 
 
 ... As the India House dispatches are now closed, I 
 tm reduced to the necessity of making use of a private 
 land, a mode of conveyance I am in general by no means 
 >artial to, but as Mr. Spottiswoode is to have a letter of 
 ecommendation from James, 4 I think it as well to render 
 lim of some service, as I should be at a loss to get this 
 
 1 Most probably the Duke's cousin, family at that time. (J. F.) 
 
 Trs. Campbell of Carrick. (J. F. ) 8 His eldest son John Ferrier, W.S. 
 
 2 Of the family of Menzies of 4 Probably her brother-in-law, Mr. 
 lenzies, and related to the Argyll James Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
34 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 conveyed in any other way. We are in daily expectation 
 of the arrival of the Triton, as I cannot help thinking it 
 contains some live stock in which we have all an interest. 
 The wind, however, is directly contrary, and as long as it 
 continues so the poor Triton has little chance of getting 
 into haven. The Bridgewater will have shipped her cargo 
 before this time, which I dare say would meet with a 
 hearty, or at all events a warm, reception from you and 
 your gude man. I am afraid all the northern budgets will 
 be too late to go by these ships, but I can assure you of 
 their being all well and merry by the last accounts. Jane 1 
 seems to have made another debut into the gay world ; her 
 letters are filled with nothing but suppers, concerts, plays, 
 &c., in all of which she seems to be bearing an active part. 
 I have been nowhere yet except at Court (not of St James' 
 but of Dyer's 2 ), where I believe I was more in my element. 
 George took Betsy 3 and I [sic] to the play, and on 
 Thursday we sally forth under his wing to an assembly. 
 You may believe with all this he stands very high in my 
 good graces, and, indeed, I think report has much belied 
 his fair fame. . . . Nabob Stewart is still at Edinburgh, 
 where, if report says true, he has at last found a powerful 
 attraction in Miss Davidson of Ravelrig. I would not 
 give much belief to it, however, for I think he is one 
 of fortune's most fickle favourites. He has got a sister and 
 a female cousin to do the honours, but they are invisible to 
 the prying eyes of man. I suppose they are in training, 
 as they are but newly imported from the country ; their 
 
 1 Her eldest sister, married in 1804 him in her mind when she drew that 
 Brigadier-General Graham, afterwards amusing character with his 'ain't it, 
 Governor of Stirling Castle. ( J. F. ) Kitty, my dear ? ' On one occasion 
 
 2 Dyer's Court in the City, where he was late for a dinner-party at 
 Mr. George Kinloch lived with his Brunswick Square, and on arriving 
 sisters. He was a banker in Broad said to his sister-in-law, ' Very sorry, 
 Street, and laird of Kair, co. Kincar- marm, very sorry ; couldn't come any 
 dine, and a bachelor. His brother, Mr. sooner, cook in a fit, cook in a fit, 
 James Kinloch, also a banker, married stuffed burnt feathers under her nose,' 
 Miss Ferrier's sister, and lived in repeating it several times in succession 
 Brunswick Square. Mr. G. Kinloch to each person as he went round the 
 somewhat resembled Mr. Ribley in room. (J. F.) 
 
 Destiny, and my aunt evidently had 3 Miss Kinloch. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. i LETTERS TO MRS. CONNELL 35 
 
 manners have not yet received the last finish. . . . Archy l 
 writes in high spirits about his little family. I should like 
 to view him taking his patrol with his wife, his lass, and 
 his wean. He says he expects to be in the print-shops 
 soon. I have written to request a copy whenever it makes 
 its appearance. When I tell you that I have got to 
 spangle a trimming for the great occasion of the ball, you 
 will certainly deem that a sufficient apology for conclud- 
 ing sooner than I would otherwise have done. I had 
 almost forgot to mention that we heard from William 2 
 to-day, and that he is now perfectly recovered and was 
 just about to embark for Scotland, where he is expected to 
 land in the course of a few days. This is a sad scrawl, but 
 I am in great hurry and have only time to beg my love to 
 Mrs. C. and the little one, and to assure you I am, 
 
 Ever affectionately yours, my dear sister, 
 
 S. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Edinburgh: January 17, 1802. 
 
 My dear Jenny, I had the pleasure of receiving your 
 billet by A. Kinloch a few days ago, for which I am very 
 grateful, as I am perfectly sensible of the exertion it must 
 cost you to continue a correspondence with so many of 
 your friends. You are very good to think of sending me 
 anything, as I'm sure I had little claim upon your remem- 
 brance. I am sorry you think it necessary to apologise to 
 me for the smallness of your present, as I am not so 
 mercenary as to judge of people's affection by the value of 
 their gifts. Whatever it is I shall make it very welcome, 
 and beg you will accept my sincere thanks in the meantime. 
 
 James has given us very agreeable accounts of you and 
 your little family, of which he seems very fond. I long 
 very much to see them, dear lambs ! and trust the time is 
 
 1 Her brother Archibald ; he mar- Royal, St. James's. (J. F.) 
 ried in 1800 Miss Garden, daughter 2 Her brother ; he was captain in 
 
 of Mr. Francis Garden, a merchant the 1 3th Foot, and died in India, 1804. 
 in Greenock. Her nephew was Dr. (J. F.) 
 Garden, late Dean of the Chapel 
 
 D 2 
 
36 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 not very far distant when my wish will be gratified. My 
 father is made very happy at the thoughts of returning 
 and settling somewhere near him. I think he looks ten 
 years younger upon it. Little Mary l is a great source of 
 amusement to him now that she begins to run about and 
 tries to make use of her tongue. She is a fine child, very 
 lively and brisk, but I don't think her in the least pretty 
 farther than having a good skin and rosy cheeks. 
 George 2 is my beauty, but that's, perhaps, partiality in me, 
 who consider him almost as my own. Helen is very 
 pressing with me to pay her a visit in spring, and I can 
 only say it won't be my fault if I do not. I, however, have 
 very little hope of obtaining my father's permission, as the 
 family is now so small that one makes a great blank. I 
 am much obliged to you for your invitation, and still more 
 for the inducement you hold out to me, but I don't feel 
 inclined to go quite so far in quest of a husband. I think 
 you're very bold in promising to insure me one. I 
 assure you it's more than most people would do, or even 
 what I would do for myself. I was at a concert a few 
 nights ago, where I was somewhat annoyed by widow Bell, 
 who was there, heading four and t^venty maidens ; she 
 looked so queer and so vulgar, that I was fain to fight shy. 
 She came bobbing along, sticking out at all points and 
 places, keys and coppers jingling in her pockets, led in 
 triumph by a frightful male creature with a large bow 
 window bound in blue and buff, and a pair of pea-green 
 upper legs. I thought I should have swooned with shame 
 when she stopped and stared at me. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL (MADRAS} 
 (From her sister Mrs. Kinloch's house in London, 1803.) 
 
 June 19. 
 
 My dearest Jenny, I congratulate you on the late 
 increase of your family, and sincerely wish you joy of your 
 
 1 His grandchild, daughter of his 2 Her nephew, George Kinloch. 
 son Archibald. (J. F.) (J. F.) 
 
en. i LETTERS TO MRS. CONNELL 37 
 
 dear little girl, who I doubt not will live to be a comfort 
 and a happiness to her parents. I long much to hear 
 more particulars respecting her, as the last letters only 
 announced her entrance into life, which she seemed to 
 have made with great fclat, by her dad's account. I do 
 not think I have written you since the arrival of the long- 
 looked-for heir apparent. I presume it is unnecessary for 
 me to say much on his personal or mental qualifications 
 and endowments, as that is a subject which will be pretty 
 well canvassed by other pens. I assure you, however (in 
 case you should doubt the veracity of the papa or mamma), 
 that he is a child of infinite merit, the chief of which 
 consists in the largeness of his body, the strength of his 
 lungs, and the greatness of his appetite. I am become 
 quite an adept in the art of nursing, and whereas I used to 
 hold by neck and heel I now support by top and bottom. 
 I am also learning to talk nonsense, which you may think 
 was not to do, but however easy I found it formerly, I 
 assure you I think it a very difficult matter to sit down for 
 the express purpose. I shall be quite ready for your little 
 Helen, who I hope you will think seriously of sending 
 home the first good opportunity ; you won't miss her so 
 much now that you have got another, and I am sure 
 nothing would make my father so happy. He talks of 
 paying us a visit here very soon, and of bringing Jane with 
 him. Kiss your darlings for me, and believe me to be, 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 S. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL. 
 
 (The water-mark on the paper is 1807.) 
 
 Saturday, 2ist- 
 
 My dear Jenny, As I understand our friend D T is 
 
 about to open another battery against you, I take the 
 opportunity of coming under her cover, as I know it will 
 give you pleasure to hear from myself that I continue to 
 
 1 Probably Miss Dalmeny Edmonstone. 
 
38 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 do well in spite of having the severest weather that ever 
 was known to struggle against. As a proof of my con- 
 valescence, I need only tell you that my doctor, from visiting 
 me daily, has now diminished his visits to twice a week, 
 when he merely calls to tell me my pulse is perfectly good 
 and ' just to go on as I have been doing.' I have still a 
 little cough and pain in my side, neither of which he 
 flatters me with getting rid of while this weather lasts, but 
 as I sleep well, eat well, and am free from fever and sick- 
 ness, I have great reason to be thankful to God for having 
 restored me so far. I feel much flattered by your having 
 given me a name daughter, but trust I shall not want such 
 a selfish inducement to make me take an interest in her. I 
 only wish for her sake it had been a prettier name, and 
 that she had had a better and a richer godmother. As it 
 is, none, I am sure, would feel more or wish her better 
 than poor I. In a year or two I shall think I have some 
 little title to put in a claim for her, so I hope you will 
 always consider that and not allow her to become the pet 
 of the house, as that would interfere with my plan of 
 getting her for mine. I hear little of what is going on in 
 this gay town at present, as I see very few people, and 
 those not of the gayest The Queen's Assembly was, as 
 usual, brilliant on the whole, but nothing very striking in 
 particular, except Kate^ who, I hear, was by far the most 
 remarkable figure in the room, clad in a dark lead coloured 
 satin (made at least six years ago, to the best of my 
 remembrance), an immense black velvet beefeater's hat 
 ornamented with large paste beads and high feathers, led 
 by her brother Sandy in a pearl-coloured suit. Archie 
 blabbed out that he heard the people declaring she was 
 worth coming four and twenty miles to see, for which I 
 dare say he would smart when they went home. I am 
 ashamed to say anything about seeing you here when the 
 ground is covered with snow, but I cannot give up the 
 hope of having that happiness in the course of the season 
 
 1 Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Archd. Ferrier. (J. F. 
 
CH. i LETTERS TO MRS. CONNELL 39 
 
 it is a thing I cannot urge, because I feel it as a favour 
 I never could repay. Remember me kindly to Mr. C., 
 most truly do I rejoice at the brightening of his prospects. 
 Pray tell him I have supped every night on his porridge, 
 and reckon it my best meal. Adieu, my dearest sister ; 
 God bless you and your little darlings. Excuse blunders 
 as I'm always too tired to look over my letters. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 . . . He (her father) talks of paying us a visit here 
 (London) very soon, and of bringing Jane with him. I 
 return with him, and I believe she will remain with Helen, 1 
 but am not certain. I have proposed the Stag 2 as a third. 
 She had begun her preparations for a second attack, I 
 understand ; that there might be no delay on her part the 
 night mutches were all in readiness, starched and ironed. 
 She entertains fresh hopes, however, since matrimony has 
 got amongst the female cousins, but I'm afraid it won't 
 get her length. You will have heard of Miss K.'s 3 
 marriage to Colonel Cameron, a very pleasant, good- 
 humoured highlander, which is quite recommendation 
 enough to me, as I have a great predilection for the 
 mountaineers you know. He has got a very pretty place 
 near Tunbridge, where I have promised to spend a few 
 days with them before quitting England. Betsy is keep- 
 ing house in Dyer's Court, which she must feel very dull, 
 now the family is so much decreased. She is very much 
 with us, and will be still more, I hope, when I am gone, as 
 H - will then stand more in need of a companion. 
 Jane desired me to send you a lace cap, but I have no 
 means of getting it conveyed, so I must delay it till next 
 time. There is nothing very new at present in the style 
 of dress ; the fashionable sleeves have lace inserted in them 
 
 1 Mrs. Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Miss Chalmer, so nicknamed. She was a cousin of the Kinlochs. 
 (J. F.) 3 Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
4O PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 in this manner, 1 which has a pretty effect with a pretty 
 arm. We were at the opera a few nights ago with Trot, 
 who had Lady Exeter's 2 box, so we were quite in style. I 
 hope we shall hear from you soon. 
 
 5. E. F. TO WALTER FERRIER (1810) 
 
 Canaan : Friday. 
 
 ... I am convinced nothing is so strengthening as 
 being much in the open air. 1 feel quite different those days 
 I don't get out from those that I spend in the fields, and I 
 believe, more or less, 'tis the case with everyone. A walk 
 is nothing, but daadling about from morning till night is life 
 to me, and I therefore prescribe it as the most sovereign 
 panacea for every disease under the sun. I can't get you 
 to listen to my medical opinions in conversation, so to be 
 revenged of you I'm resolved to give you a dose every time 
 I write, so this is my first chapter. I've not been in town 
 since I got your letter, but I shall go in to-morrow, and exe- 
 cute your orders to the best of mine and the blacksmith's 
 abilities. I wrote to desire John to have the letter for Dr. 
 C. ready, so I hope to get the whole dispatched by Sunday's 
 mail. I've been so engaged since you went away betwixt 
 business and pleasuring, that I've never had a minute I 
 could call my own. You was hardly out of the door before 
 I felt sick and went to bed, but was obliged to rise to 
 receive the Laird of Makdougall and his daughter, a great 
 bumping miss in a blue riding-habit ; then in galloped Bessie 
 Mure, so that I was at my wits' end between a fine town 
 madam and a rank Highland miss. On Friday we dined 
 at Dairy with a party of paper lords, and saw Mrs. Frank 
 for the first time, and think her the loveliest creature I ever 
 saw. 3 Next day I was in the Elysian fields with my dear 
 
 1 Here Miss Ferrier inserts an ex- 3 She was Miss Drummond, of 
 planatory sketch. Hawthornden, and married Mr. 
 
 2 Widow of Douglas, eighth Duke Francis Walker, son of Mr. Walker 
 of Hamilton, who was stepson to the of Dairy, created a baronet 1828. 
 
 Duke of Argyll. Married second the (J. F.) 
 Marquis of Exeter. (J. F.) 
 
CH. i LETTERS TO WALTER FERRIER 41 
 
 doctor, for such his grounds really are, and you may 
 suppose his company did not lessen the delusion in my eyes. 1 
 Sunday we had our usual bill of fare from Q. Street, in- 
 cluding Bob the Weaver, and that hedgehog Willie T. The 
 rest of the week I was busy as any bee in divers and sundry 
 ways. To-day we had the brothers Pringle, and Louis, and 
 Lady. 2 To-morrow we dine at John's to meet Lord 
 Frederick 3 ; on Sunday we have them. On Monday, G. 
 Thompson the poet ; Wednesday, at Louis's ; Thursday, the 
 Pringles ; and on Friday we set off. All this, I must say, is 
 too much for me, and I'm so hurried that I've not time to 
 mend my pen, as you may perceive. I've just snatched a 
 few moments betwixt the departure of our guests and the 
 commencement of Dumbie to scrawl thus far, and though 
 it's almost pitch dark, by way of gaining time I'm trying to 
 prove that it's broad daylight, a point by no means clear. 
 That's a pun, if you please ! maybe you'd not have found it 
 out. You may imagine how delighted I was to hear of 
 Helen's safe accouchement, and since then I've been gratified 
 with daily bulletins, besides a long letter from Mrs, Conry 
 giving a full and particular description of the late pro- 
 duction, who, she says, surpasses the others for size and 
 strength. ... I have not heard from Cork for some time ; 
 there is a small parcel here for Mrs. G. 4 which I shall send, 
 with the books, to your care. You left two pockethandker- 
 chiefs, which I shall also send to relieve Marquis, who 
 seems much disquieted about it. 5 I was obliged to bring 
 
 1 ' My dear doctor ' was Dr. 2 Her cousin, Louis Ferrier, of 
 Hamilton. He was one of the latest Belsyde. He married Miss Monro, 
 inhabitants of ' Auld Reeky ' who daughter of Professor Monro (secun- 
 still clung to the dress of a bygone age, dus) of Edinburgh University. (J. F. ) 
 the cocked hat, knee breeches, shoe 3 Lord Frederick Campbell, Lord 
 buckles, &c., &c. He never wore Clerk Register of Scotland. From 
 gloves or carried an umbrella. Some him Professor Ferrier derived his 
 one remarked these two peculiarities, second name. (J. F.) 
 to which Miss Ferrier replied, with her * Mrs. Graham. (J. F.) 
 ready repartee, that he dispensed with 5 Miss Charlotte Marquis, a de- 
 gloves (she supposed) for fear of pendant of the Argyll family. She 
 slipping the fees ; and that an umbrella was with Lady A. Clavering, and 
 was unnecessary, as his three-cornered died in 1845. She had an annuity, 
 hat supplied the place of one ! (J. F. ) paid by my grandfather. (J. F. ) 
 
42 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 my letter in with me to finish, and I've been trotting all 
 over the town, and am so tired, I can scarcely hold the pen 
 and must go to dress for the grandees. I long to hear 
 from you again, so pray write, and remember me to all 
 friends most kindly. 
 
 Queen Street l : Saturday. 
 
 S. E. F. TO WALTER FERRIER (1809 or 1810) 
 
 P riday. 
 
 My dear Wat, . . . I am in convulsions at the history 
 of the ' Loves of the Pigmies,' and even my father (to whom 
 I read it) laughed most heartily at your description of the 
 gay Lothario. It is the best thing I have met with for a 
 great while, and really merits a place in my scrap-book, 2 
 which is the greatest mark of honour I can give. Apropos 
 of books, there arrived for me a few days ago a huge packet 
 from Dublin Castle, which I doubted not came from my 
 Delight. You may therefore judge of my agitation when 
 opening it, and the disappointment that ensued when out 
 issued the effusions of Joey Atkinson's 3 fat brain in the 
 form of twenty-eight pages of a printed poem. There was 
 likewise a long letter filled with fine things, and complaints 
 of his beauteous rhymes having been so miscalled in Bobby's 
 paper. I suppose he lays it all to my bad spelling, but I 
 shall turn him over to the Printer's Devil for redress. There 
 were some songs for Margaret, which was the best part of 
 the bundle. I have to answer all this farrago, which is 
 rather alarming. He had parted with the darling at Lord 
 Grey's, pretty creature ! I'm in hopes to make Joey my 
 cat's-paw, to help me to keep alive my flame, 4 for I don't 
 
 1 Lady Augusta Clavering's house, value. (J. F. ) 
 
 No. ii. (J. F.) 3 Treasurer of the Ordnance, Ire- 
 
 2 She had a most valuable scrap- land, and a great friend of Sydney 
 book containing political caricatures Lady Morgan. (J. F.) 
 
 by Gilray. She valued it, as she said, 4 This must allude to her admiration 
 
 as ' the apple of her eye,' but it dis- for John Philpott Curran, Master of 
 
 appeared and never was seen again, the Rolls. (J. F.) 
 stolen by some one who knew its 
 
CH. i LETTERS TO WALTER FERRIER 43 
 
 wish it to die away, and yet I musn't burn my own fingers. 
 I was yesterday regaled with the company of the charming 
 Christy and her son. You know my opinion of her, and, to 
 tell the truth, I don't think much better of him. I know 
 no vice so detestable in youth as narrowness and suspicion^ 
 both of which ingredients seem to form his chief composition. 
 Worldly prudence is very suitable at seventy, but at seven- 
 teen it is absolutely disgusting ; in the one it is the result of 
 experience, in the other it is the offspring of a little mind 
 and base contracted heart. He goes off to the South on 
 Saturday, where I hope he'll acquire more liberal notions, 
 and get rid of some of his norland rust. I've seen little 
 of Madam Worm since I wrote ; she dined here one day 
 with the Harry Davidsons, a most heavy handful. She 
 was in one of her vicious moods ; she's a sweet crater. 
 We're to dine there to-morrow, it seems, which I'm sorry 
 for ; but she has a red-haired cousin staying with her, 
 which saves the misery of a tete-a-tete. We had the 
 Macdonalds dining with us the other day rather a 
 humdrum business, I dare say they thought it, for, as usual, 
 we could get nobody, though not, as usual, for want of 
 asking. However, just before dinner we met your friend 
 Sir William, who accepted the invitation, and Janet Wilson 
 was kind enough to come in Margaret's l place, who was 
 confined with a slight cold. I'm a good deal disappointed 
 in Colonel Mac ; he's far from handsome, and, though he's 
 frank and unaffected, there's nothing particularly pleasing 
 in his manners, or captivating in his address. However, 
 you'll be able to judge for yourself, as they don't leave this 
 till November I . The affair of the picture is very mysterious, 
 to say the least of it ; even Charity cannot avoid thinking 
 evil in such a case. I don't wonder that Lord John has 
 withdrawn from such a motley crew. . . . 2 
 
 1 Mrs. John Ferrier, her sister-in- to any of the allusions in this letter 
 law. (J. F.) or to the identity of Madam Worm 
 
 2 I have not been able to find clues or Christy, &c. (J. F.) 
 
44 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 S. E. F. TO WALTER FERRIER 
 
 Canaan Grove : May I, 1810. 
 
 My dear Walter, If you think my silence requires any 
 apology you will please observe the date, which says more 
 for my despatch and agility as a correspondent then were I 
 to write a hundred quarto volumes to prove it. I only 
 received yours of the 27th this morning in town, and since 
 then I have performed a journey that some years ago took 
 Moses forty long years to make out, to say nothing of the 
 various appendages and encumbrances I had along with 
 me, and a pair of hackney horses, who, I'm sure, were worse 
 to drive than all the stiff-necked children of Israel. So much 
 for the improvement of modern times ! I like our little cot 
 very much upon a closer inspection, and expect to pass my 
 time very pleasantly in the retirement it affords. The only 
 bar to my enjoyment is a vile east wind, which annoys me 
 a good deal ; but as there's a bright sun along with it every- 
 body says it's charming weather, and so I suppose it must 
 be so. The doctor was very earnest with us about taking 
 possession, in spite of wind and weather, and I dare say he 
 was right, as I think it is impossible to gain health and 
 strength in the streets. I'm sorry, however, that you should 
 have experienced the fact, though it was no more than I 
 expected, knowing what London is in the month of May. 
 I trust you are now in a purer region, and that, in lieu of 
 swallowing smoke and dust, you are now quaffing the 
 limpid wave from the naiads of Cheltenham. You would 
 be pleased to meet Andrew Millar there. I saw his 
 mother 1 a few days ago, and she told me he was to be there 
 
 at this time. I had a visit from D 2 yesterday, but so 
 
 brimful of charity that every other sentiment or emotion 
 was quite sunk. She told me such stories of objects as 
 you'd shudder at. She's just a walking Lazar House 
 however, I was really glad to see her, with all her imperfec- 
 
 1 Mrs. Millar of Earnock. (J. F.) 2 Miss Dalmeny Edmonstone. 
 
 (J. F.) 
 
CH. i LETTERS TO WALTER FERRIER 45 
 
 tions on her head. I was not quite so rejoiced at a visit 
 from the whole nest of Worms and the Oyster to-day just 
 when I was in the very midst of hurry and confusion. She 
 began to tell me all what she had had to do in her house, 
 upon which I cut her short, and told her it was quite 
 unnecessary for her to take the trouble of telling me what 
 she might easily see I knew. She never minded, but ran on 
 uttering nonsense and telling lies as fast as she could till I 
 could no longer be civil to her. She is an odious creature, 
 such a compound of forwardness and meanness as almost 
 exceeds credibility. To add to the other agreeables that 
 attended our stay in town for the last few days, we had 
 those two white blacks or black whites (which you please), 
 the T's for inmates till this morning, when they were 
 shipped off with a foul wind and my blessing. They are a 
 pair of the most hopeless creatures, I'll venture to say, ever 
 were sent into the world, not that I mean they've anything 
 bad in them. Paradoxical as it may seem to say, I should 
 have more hopes of them if they showed a tendency for 
 any one thing good or bad \ But they do not seem to have 
 a single idea beyond sitting. I used to turn them out of 
 the drawing-room and my father, to find them each seated 
 in an armchair in the dining-room, with the blinds down, 
 doing nothing. He was obliged to hire chairmen to make 
 them walk or they never would have moved ; but they 
 seemed to be much admired at Conheath, and Jenny l wrote 
 the highest encomiums of them. For my part I don't know 
 a more deplorable sight than to see two young creatures 
 with souls and sound bodies such complete victims to 
 inveterate sloth and stupidity. I should envy you some of 
 your London sights if I were able for such things, but I 
 feel that quiet and retirement best accord with me now ; 
 indeed, at all times I believe there is more pleasure in the 
 retrospect than the reality. I am, therefore, glad you have 
 seen what will serve as a foundation for agreeable reflection 
 hereafter. I trust you will give the waters a fair trial, and 
 
 1 Her sister, Mrs. Connell. (J. F. ) 
 
46 PARENTAGE AND EARLY LIFE CH. i 
 
 I think if you could manage to come down with A. Millar 
 it would be pleasant for both parties. I am scribbling to 
 you betwixt tea and cards, while my father is busy hoeing, 
 so you must make due allowance for this being totally 
 illegible, as it is all but dark. For the more heinous offence of 
 extreme stupidity I must throw myself on your mercy, as I 
 must honestly confess for some days I've not harboured a 
 thought that did not relate either to painting or packing, 
 but as these begin to yield to the influence of green fields 
 and budding trees I hope I shall be able to acquit myself 
 better. I had a letter from Cork about eight days ago, but 
 have not yet found time to answer it. I have not a single 
 word of news from any quarter to season this very insipid 
 performance, but I know I need not apologise to you for 
 the want of entertainment, as I'm sure you'll be better 
 pleased to hear of my own health than were I to tell all 
 the news and wonders of the town and country both. 
 
47 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 1 MARRIAGE ' 
 
 IF the legal and literary circles of Edinburgh did not 
 actually coincide, at all events they had so many points of 
 meeting that they practically formed one society. Miss 
 Ferrier was from the very outset brought into contact with 
 Scott and enjoyed close intimacy with the family of Henry 
 Mackenzie, * The Man of Feeling.' There is tradition, too, 
 of a friendship with Leyden, which he, at least, would fain 
 have made more than friendship, and the total absence of 
 any reference to him in the correspondence will probably 
 be held rather to confirm that suspicion. 
 
 As we have seen, Mr. Ferrier's business brought him 
 into close contact with the Argyll family, and there resulted 
 a very hearty friendship between Susan Ferrier and the 
 ladies of that house. The effect on Miss Ferrier's literary 
 career was of no small importance. It introduced her to 
 a phase of life which furnished a needful contrast to that 
 with which she was familiar. Her fine gentlemen may be 
 unreal in character, they are not stagey in demeanour ; yet 
 less her fine ladies. We read of contemporaries wondering 
 how Miss Ferrier, the daughter of an Edinburgh writer who 
 had only had a few glimpses from without of the fashion- 
 able world, could reproduce the speech and the ways of 
 that world so correctly, and the solution, we are told, was 
 found in her intimacy with the household of her father's 
 patron. 1 
 
 The Argyll connection did even more than that for her ; 
 it gave her the one literary friendship of her lifetime. As 
 
 1 I visited Lady , who was &c. , of fashionable people, as she had 
 
 engaged in reading Miss F.'s new heard that Miss F. knew nobody be - 
 
 novel ( The Inheritance). I told her longing to that class of persons except 
 
 I heard she did not acknowledge being the A. (Argyll) family. ' Diary illus- 
 
 the authoress. Lady observed trative of the times of George IV. 
 
 it was surprising she should be so well (J. F. ) 
 acquainted with the living, talking 
 
48 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 we shall see, it is not easy to say whether the original de- 
 sign of c Marriage ' actually had its origin with Miss Ferrier 
 or Miss Clavering. But it is pretty clear that it could 
 never have been written if Miss Ferrier had not at her side 
 a counsellor to whom she could open herself with full con- 
 fidence and hearty enjoyment. 
 
 Miss Clavering, too, was much more than the mere 
 recipient of Miss Ferrier's schemes. It was intended at 
 the outset that the work was to be a joint one. Of Miss 
 Clavering's actual share in the execution it is perhaps 
 charitable to say little. It is indeed surprising that so 
 acute a critic and so lively a letter- writer could have pro- 
 duced anything so commonplace and dull as the few pages 
 which formed her contribution to * Marriage.' Not even in 
 the worst parts of * Destiny ' has Miss Ferrier produced any- 
 thing so depressingly conventional as ' The History of Mrs. 
 Douglas.' Miss Clavering's letters are not lacking in 
 playful affectations of self-will and real evidence of self-con- 
 fidence. All the more was it to her credit to have seen as 
 she did at once the poverty of her own work, to have 
 accepted dismissal without the slightest abatement of 
 friendship or of hearty interest in Miss Ferrier's literary 
 career. 
 
 Such slight injury as is inflicted on * Marriage ' by Miss 
 Clavering's contribution is more than redeemed by her 
 criticisms. If any reader takes the trouble to go through 
 her letter of May 10, 1813, and to compare ' Marriage ' as we 
 actually have it, with ' Marriage ' as she criticizes it, they will 
 see how much Miss Ferrier owed to her friend's advice. One 
 service alone would establish a strong claim for gratitude 
 from all Miss Ferrier's admirers. Miss Clavering protests 
 against the practice of making the fashionable characters 
 interlard their conversation with scraps of French. No 
 trace of the blemish remains, but it is terrible to think that 
 the creator of Lady MacLaughlan and Miss Grizzy might 
 have put on the form of Lady Fanny Flummery. 
 
 It is obvious, too, that over and above any direct advice 
 or criticism that Miss Ferrier received, the continuous and 
 intimate correspondence of the two friends had an impor- 
 tant influence on her as a writer. The letters we have, we 
 must remember, are but a fragment of the correspondence, 1 
 and over and above the correspondence there were those 
 
 1 The correspondence itself shows plainly that many letters are missing. 
 
CH. ii LETTERS TO MISS CLAVERING 49 
 
 ' delicious splashy walks at noon and enchanting orgies at 
 midnight/ over which Miss Ferrier laments. * He was 
 makin himsell' a' the time/ said Scott's friend, Shortrede, 
 telling of the young advocate's days of sport and nights of 
 feasting among the Liddesdale farmers. Miss Ferrier was 
 ' makin hersell ' while in her unstudied letters and more 
 unstudied speech she was pouring forth boisterous fun and 
 shrewd judgments on men and things. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Tuesday, 28th. 
 
 Your letter was quite a cheering cup to me, my dearest, 
 and my heart was filled with gladness to see the joy with 
 which yours overflowed. Long may it continue, in spite of 
 all the horrors of London balls and London beaux, and 
 may every wish and expectation it has ever formed be 
 amply realised ! But seriously I was delighted to hear 
 you were going to leave your dogs, and cats, and owls, 
 and mawkins, for though some of them may be very 
 seemly appendages to elderly gentlewomen comme moi, I 
 by no means approve of them as constant companions to 
 beautiful young ladies like you. Ergo, I do rejoice with 
 all my strength that you are going to explore the busy 
 haunts of man. Now for myself, weary wight that I am, 
 everybody says I am much better ; in spite of a cough and 
 a pain in my side, I'm obliged to believe them. I was 
 sadly depressed during the dreadful cold weather, but 
 begin to revive again since the change, which makes me 
 hope much from a milder climate, as it is evident all my 
 ails proceed from the excessive cold of this one. In the 
 meantime I'm living like an Arcadian shepherdess^ upon 
 (asses) milk and grapes (which have really been my chief 
 support for two months), and I only want a certain hat to 
 make me complete the thing. The ' Siege of Rochelle ' has 
 been translated these six months and none of the book- 
 sellers here ever publish such things, so your friend must 
 betake him or herself to some other crafts. Apropos, no 
 turning for me. I marvel not at you, for I perceive your 
 
 E 
 
50 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 darling little pate has been completely turned ; but pray, 
 has Lord John's also run in the loom ? But ' men were 
 deceivers ever ' ! I meant to have written ... no letter at 
 all to you for daring to laugh at my claw, but shall remit 
 your punishment to writing me 334 folio pages immediately 
 upon your arrival, containing your life and conversation 
 during your journey. Adieu, Pet of my heart, all good 
 attend you. So prays the most affectionate of your friends, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 I'm glad you've dropped that odious freezing arm's 
 length ' Miss Ferrier ' in such cold weather it would cer- 
 tainly have chilled me to death. Should you see any 
 comical catikitury, as a certain Burring dowager terms a 
 caricature, will you get it franked and send me? 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 My dear Charlotte, Do not think me the most un- 
 grateful of living beings, for, indeed, I am only one of the 
 most unfortunate. Your kindest of kind billets found me 
 in an unanswerable state, in which I have remained ever 
 since till within these last two days, when I have regained 
 a small degree of strength, just sufficient to enable me to 
 sit up and hold a pen, for, as you may perceive, I am not 
 able to guide it. My complaint, as usual, is a violent cough ; 
 but what was not usual, it has been attended with a most 
 excruciating pain in my side both are abated, but far from 
 gone. I never can thank Lord John and you for asking 
 me to Ardencaple, so I won't even attempt it ; but I hope 
 you will both believe that I feel all possible love and 
 gratitude for this kindness. At present I am too ill to go 
 anywhere, but should I get better as the season advances 
 I believe I am to be transported to England. It is a dismal 
 prospect to think of travelling six or seven hundred miles 
 in search of health, which, for my own part, I don't expect 
 to find. Write to me if you really love me, for though I 
 
CH. ii LETTERS TO MISS CLAVERING 5 1 
 
 can't write I can read, and that is my chief comfort. I 
 have nobody staying with me, for, since I can't have any 
 one I love, I prefer solitude to the society of those who are 
 indifferent to me ; you may therefore judge what joy it is 
 to me to hear from those who are so dear to me. As to La 
 Princesse, pray don't throw away a thought upon her ; at 
 present not all the princesses in the world could give me a 
 moment's pain or pleasure. When you give my love to 
 Lord John (which I desire you will do) tell him, in addition 
 to all his other favours, I must beg him to turn something 
 for me. 1 I am quite childish and have taken a sick longing 
 for it, so I hope he won't deny me. I also wish for some 
 specimens of your handicraft. What a compliment to have 
 your fingers mistaken for a piece of ivory ! Tell me what 
 it is you wish, and if I can't get it myself I'll cause others 
 to do it. This is the second time I have touched a pen 
 these four weeks, but I have taken my own time to this 
 elegant composition. Adieu, dearest, best of friends. 
 Ever, ever yours with affection, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 And you really have the pertness to tell me that I 
 ought to write you a letter every week without expecting 
 any answer ? Truly, child, you must have strangely forgot 
 yourself when you presume to talk in such a strain to a 
 person stricken in years as I am ! Methinks, on the con- 
 trary, you must have meant to say that (with my permission) 
 it would be no more than a piece of respect due to my 
 grey hairs and wrinkles were you to write me every hour 
 of your life, and render to me an account not only of the 
 deeds done in the body, but likewise reveal to me every 
 thought, wish, fancy, crotchet, and desire that enters into 
 and issues out of you in the course of the day ! From the 
 general incoherency that pervaded the whole of your 
 
 1 Lord J. C. was very clever in a mechanical way ; he used to turn 
 little ornaments in wood and ivory. (J. F. ) 
 
52 * MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 epistle, and extended even to the direction of it, I am 
 willing to believe this was your meaning, and I shall 
 accordingly expect a speedy and thorough reformation 
 to be begun in the style and execution of your epistolary 
 communications. And in the first step towards your 
 amendments I must insist that you lay aside that odious 
 practice of writing on half-sheets of paper. When I was 
 your age / never presumed to lay a finger on anything 
 less than foolscap, and had it not been by reason of my 
 age and infirmities I should still have continued at it, so 
 don't pretend to follow my example in that particular, for 
 at my years I am well entitled to such indulgencies. The 
 next thing that I have often tried to enforce upon you is 
 to send me no blank paper, I can get as much for a half- 
 penny as you sometimes make me pay a sixpence for. . . . 
 I allow you all Sunday to meditate on my laws, Monday to 
 put them in practice, and if Tuesday's sun does not show 
 me your contrition I'll burn your letters, destroy my 
 notes, and make a bonfire of your whole remains ! 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Edinburgh : February 21, 1808. 
 
 From your long silence, my sweet friend, I had begun 
 to fear that your gentle spirit no longer sojourned on earth, 
 and was therefore much relieved to find that it still lingered 
 even amongst some of the c thousand ills that flesh is heir 
 to.' The effusions of your swelled face and sore eyes 
 excited emotions of the deepest sorrow in my blistered 
 breast, and was deplored by my broken voice in the 
 most melting accents my cough could possibly assume. 
 But seriously ill as I was myself when I received your 
 letter, I was not so wholly engrossed by my own sufferings 
 as not to feel truly sorry for yours, and would have written 
 to inquire for you long ere now had I not heard of your 
 convalescence from Miss Mure ; besides that, I have been, 
 and still am, so great an invalid, that it's very seldom I 
 
CH. ii LETTERS TO MISS CLAVERING 53 
 
 have spirits to write even to those I most love. I am 
 persecuted by a cough which will certainly be my death 
 if I remain in this climate, and I have no chance of 
 changing it for another. I have not been out to any party, 
 in public or private, for the whole winter, and have seen 
 about as much gaiety and fashion as you have done. From 
 Miss M. you will have every information on those subjects, 
 as I hear she shines forth the gayest of the gay throng. 
 I hear the other rival queen, the Lamont, 1 is arrived, though 
 if report is to be believed there is no longer much to be 
 feared from that, for, as it is said she is at length going to 
 bestow her fair hand on Maister Snodgrass. I heard of her a 
 few nights ago at a ball in great beauty, arrayed in crimson 
 gauze over sky-blue satin. Apropos of robes, have you got 
 yours to fit ? because if you have not, I must inquire for 
 the cloth immediately, or it may be all gone, and of course 
 your character will follow. We had Camillia 2 dining with 
 us one day lately in very tolerable preservation. She went 
 next day to take, as she thought, another family dinner at 
 General Maxwell's, instead of which she found herself and 
 her rusty fusty worsted robes in the midst of a brilliant 
 assemblage of powdered beaux and perfumed belles. I 
 visited Benbow 3 a few days ago and found her in the 
 agonies of a ghost story. Shawfield 4 had just been 
 amusing her with a story relating to an old lady, who is at 
 present haunted in (and out of) every house she goes to. 
 And now we are on the subject of ghosts, I have been 
 reading ' The Fatal Revenge,' which I think quite delicious. 
 I recommended to poor Benbow to take a dose every 
 
 1 Miss Lamont of Lamont. Ferrier met at Inveraray, but she 
 
 2 This person is frequently men- would never divulge who it was. 
 tioned, but I can obtain no clue to (J. F.) 
 
 her identity ; but Lord Frederick 3 Miss Ferrier used to nickname 
 Campbell, Lady Charlotte, and several of her acquaintances, thereby 
 Colonel Campbell came down from obscuring their identity. This old 
 London to attend her funeral. Her lady must have resembled old Lady 
 ways seem to savour somewhat of Betty in The Inheritance, who was an 
 ' Miss Pratt ' in The Inheritance. I insatiable reader of novels with mar- 
 have also been told that the original vellous names. (J. F. ) 
 of Miss Pratt was someone Miss 4 Campbell of Shawfield. (J. F. ) 
 
54 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 night at going to bed, which I have no doubt will make 
 her quite delirious, but should the worst come to the worst, 
 there will be no difficulty in providing her with a strait- 
 waistcoat. I see there is another novel published by the 
 author of the above, which I am gasping for. Do write to 
 me very soon and tell me whether you are to remain at 
 Ardencaple or go to England this spring. If you do the 
 latter, I wish you'd admit me and my child of your party. 
 You promised me some poems, and I wish you'd send 
 them now, when I'm sick and sad, and see nobody nor 
 anything that in the least pleases or diverts me. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 My Bower : Wednesday, 1808. 
 
 If you have a spark of gratitude in your nature, you will 
 down on your marrow bones to me for having kept so long 
 quiet, for you know that my silence has proceeded from 
 naught but pure and genuine goodness on my part, for what 
 could a poor homely maiden like me find to say that was 
 worthy of engaging the time and attention of a fine dancing 
 lady like you ? Your account of your revels puts me in mind 
 of those described in the ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' and 
 methought I beheld you as Titania wooing the Blackburne 
 as your beloved Bottom. 
 
 Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, 
 
 While I thy amiable cheeks will coy, 
 And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, 
 
 And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. . . . 
 
 You will say I am worse than John Brown of quoting 
 memory, and so I am, for John quoted aptly, but I go by 
 guess, for I know not whether the cap will fit your Bottom, 
 never having had the felicity of beholding him. But to 
 rise in my subject (for, you see, I'm an enemy to Bathos) 
 and to go at once from the Bottom to the Top. How shall 
 I express the shock I sustained on hearing of the foul 
 murder that has been perpetrated on your hapless Pow ? 
 Did you never read St. Paul on the subject ? Does he not 
 
CH. ii LETTERS TO MISS CLAVERING 55 
 
 say that ' long hair is the glory of women, and that it is 
 their shame to be shorn ' ? And how dare you in defiance of 
 Scripture commit this rape on your Locks ? Indeed, I am 
 mistaken if he does not also observe that the woman who 
 is shaved is also to be stripped. 
 
 . . . The only consolation my affliction will admit of 
 is for you to send me a ringlet as a relic of your past 
 glories, so will it be both my bane and antidote. I would 
 have sent your jewellery long ago, had I not, by your own 
 authority, been waiting all this time in expectation of your 
 lordly uncle's arrival l ; they have been lying in George 
 Street for more than six weeks, whereas you might have 
 been blazing in them at the theatre, where I hear you 
 shine forth a fixed star. I send you a little ring, as I think 
 you liked the setting of one of mine, but I could not get a 
 stone the same. You are surely in jest, my dear, when you 
 talk of my gifts. God knows I have little to give, or I should 
 be but too happy to give it to you, to whom I owe more 
 than I hope I shall ever be able to repay, for, indeed, I 
 would rather bear all the weight of your kindness to me, 
 than you should ever be in a situation to require mine. I 
 can only show the wish, and trust to your believing that 
 ' a small gift may be the sign of a great love.' 
 
 I sent immediately on receiving your letter, and got 
 a sixteenth of a lottery ticket for you ; the numer \stc\ is 
 16-820, and its fate still undecided. So set to work arid 
 build some castles, but don't make them too high. 
 
 . . . What novelties have you been reading lately? 
 Have you been introduced to the McLarty family yet ? 
 I think they are the most exquisite family group imagin- 
 able. 2 Mrs. McC. is quite one of your darlings. ... I 
 shall get your trinkums franked to-morrow by the Post- 
 master. Pray write me a wee wordie immediately, as I shall 
 be anxious to hear of their safe arrival. Remember me to 
 Miss Mure. 
 
 1 Lord John Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
 2 In the Cottagers of Glenbttrnie, by Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
56 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 Adieu, my Fairly Fair, believe me to be your most 
 affectionate of friends. 
 
 Has Venus brought forth her Cupids yet ? I send this 
 before, that you may make a row at the post-office if the 
 packet is not forthcoming. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLAVE RING (1808-9?) 
 
 Gasgow [jiV]. 1 
 
 It is now ten days since I was torn from the root 
 of my affection, eight of which I passed within fourteen 
 miles of thy delightful presence ! Miserable thought that 
 served but to poison those joyless days and sleep ful 
 nights. How different from our delicious splashy walks at 
 noon and our enchanting orgies at midnight ! But those 
 times are past, and I live but to lament their loss ! I've 
 neither time nor spirits to tell my miseries, for my heart 
 aches as much as my head. Nothing now makes me sad 
 but being doomed to the society of stupid, silly, disagree- 
 able people ; sickness or solitude is paradise compared to 
 it. We were some days at Ross 2 with Mr. and Mrs. 
 M. Buchanan, who were very kind and pleasant, and we 
 were at Garscube, where Sir I slay and his daughter were 
 equally so, and at both of these places pure air I could 
 breathe. But here, oh ... what I've swallowed since I 
 came to this region of smoke and vulgarity ! the nauseous 
 civilities, the surfeiting hospitalities, the excruciating acts of 
 politeness. Oh ! Miss Clavering, drop a tear to my woes ! 
 I can liken myself to nothing but a hapless fly (mayhap a 
 wasp) that has fallen into a pot of old thick stinking honey, 
 where it wriggles and struggles in vain to get free. By the 
 blessed influence of a pair of post-horses I hope to be emanci- 
 pated to-morrow from this emporium of sweet civilities and 
 tender assiduities, and on my arrival at Conheath I hope 
 to be solaced by a letter from the light of mine eyes. I 
 send you the ' Portuguese Nun ' which I amused myself 
 
 1 Possibly because gas had just been introduced there. (J. F.) 
 
 2 On Loch Lomond. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN 57 
 
 yesterday by hunting all through Glasgow, and could only 
 get her in that shabby state. 1 She seems to be one of those 
 Furiosas for whom I have no pity, not but what I can 
 enter into her feelings, wild and ungovernable as they are, 
 for my own heart is a very whirlpool when once it is roused ; 
 but methinks, were I so unfortunate to love without being 
 loved, my heart should burst or break before it should ever 
 utter a single murmur or reproach. If I mistake not, yours 
 would do the same, would it not ? Adieu, good night. 
 
 In 1809 Miss Ferrier found a spirit imbued with a 
 kindred sense of humour in Curran. More than one of her 
 letters, as we shall see, contains a profession of attachment 
 which may be compared with Miss Austen's expressed wish 
 to be ' the wife of the Rev. George Crabbe.' 
 
 THE RIGHT HONOURABLE JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN 
 TO S. E. F. 
 
 1809. 
 
 Dear Madam, What I wished to say in verse I must 
 even say in prose. I thank you extremely for your kind- 
 ness and courtesy ; it is simpler than song and full as true. I 
 thought also to have wrote a line or two on the verses you 
 gave me, but my jade of a Muse was, it seems, engaged, 
 and disappointed me. She sent word, however, that on the 
 road she'd pop in and whisper something, but I scarcely 
 believe her. I have been courting her all my life, and she 
 has been uniformly coy and cruel. I don't, indeed, much 
 wonder that a poor Irishman should have so little chance 
 with her in Scotland. If, however, she should say anything 
 to me, I'll not keep her secret, but let you know it. 2 
 
 I am, dear Madam, with great respect, your obliged 
 
 and grateful servant, 
 
 JOHN P. CURRAN. 
 My best respects to your father. 
 
 1 The first English translation of guished persons, among them Scott, 
 this book appeared in 1808. Burns, and Madame de Stael, is now 
 
 2 Curran's Muse, however, did in- in the possession of Susan Ferrier, 
 spire him, and he wrote some verses great-granddaughter of Professor 
 in Miss Ferrier's album. This, con- Ferrier the metaphysician. (J. F.) 
 taining many autographs of distin- 
 
58 ' MARRIAGE' en, 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 1809? 
 
 My dear Charlotte, Had you asked me to take Old 
 Nick by the tail, or pull the man o' the moon by the horns, 
 there's no saying what lengths my friendship might have 
 carried me ; but really to expect me at this gay season I 
 should forsake the flaunting town for your silent glens is a 
 sacrifice too great for mere feminine affection ! 5 Tis what 
 the most presuming lover would hardly dare to demand 
 from the most tender mistress, and were I to accord thus 
 much to friendship what would I leave for love ? You'll 
 allow I could not carry my enthusiasm to a higher pitch 
 in this world than to undertake such a journey upon your 
 account, and the consequences would be that were he 
 to ask me to accompany him on a jaunt to the next it 
 would be thought monstrous disobliging to refuse ! This 
 must, therefore, prove a deathblow to your hopes, as it 
 must be evident to you that I would only undertake such 
 a thing at the risk of my life, to say nothing of the little 
 casualties of coughs, colds, &c. that would assail me in the 
 course of my travels, and the whole formidable host of the 
 materia medica who would be drawn up to oppose my 
 progress. I've made no mention of the many delights I 
 should leave behind, because I should be loath to mortify 
 you by the comparison of my superior enjoyments ; but 
 allow me just to hint to you that dirty streets are not to be 
 exchanged for dry gravel walks, that black kennels are 
 rather more pleasing to the eye than blue rivers, that the 
 scrapings of a blind fiddler are full as melodious as the 
 chirpings of a starved robin, that the flavour of stinking 
 herrings is more satisfying (to the stomach) than the smell 
 of seaweed, and that the sight of clothed men is as 
 gladdening to the heart as the view of naked trees ! But 
 to leave off fooling, and be serious on a subject on which, 
 believe me, I only jest because I can say nothing to the 
 purpose how could you have the cruelty, not only to 
 
CH. ii LETTERS TO MISS CLAVERING 59 
 
 tantalise me with the proposal, but also to insinuate that 
 it would be my own fault were it not accepted ! 
 
 My dear Charlotte, I think you have known me long 
 enough to know that it is not my practice to make pro- 
 fessions to any one, and I hope you will therefore believe I 
 say no more than I feel when I declare to you that had I my 
 choice at this moment of going to any quarter of the globe 
 or part of the kingdom I would without hesitation choose to 
 be with you. I have no bosom friend Q\& of my own family 
 save you alone (if such you'll allow me to reckon you), 
 and my sisters are now so engrossed with their respective 
 husbands and children that their society is no longer to me 
 what it was wont to be. I have, therefore, no great merit , 
 you see, in preferring your company to that of any other 
 person, even setting aside the similarity of our tastes and 
 pursuits, which of itself would be a more and never fail- 
 ing source of pleasure and enjoyment But alas ! such 
 pleasures must never be mine. 
 
 I'm doomed to doze away my days by the side of my 
 solitary fire and to spend my nights in the tender inter- 
 course of all the old tabbies in the town. In truth, your 
 solitude is not a whit greater than mine, unless you reckon 
 sound society of that I own I have enough. But some- 
 how I don't feel my spirits a bit exhilarated, my ideas at 
 all enlivened, or my understanding enlightened by the 
 rattling of carnages or the clanking of chairs, and these be 
 the only mortal sounds that meet my ears. As to conver- 
 sation, that's quite out of the question at this season ; in the 
 dull summer months people may find time to sit down and 
 prose and talk sense a little, but at present they have some- 
 thing else to do with their time. My father I never see, save 
 at meals, but then my company is just as indispensable 
 as the tablecloth or chairs, or, in short, any other luxury 
 which custom has converted into necessity. That he 
 could live without me I make no doubt, so he could with- 
 out a leg or an arm, but it would ill become me to deprive 
 him of either ; therefore, never even for a single day could 
 
60 * MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 I reconcile it either to my duty or inclination to leave 
 him. Therefore, my dear friend, believe what you are 
 kind enough to ask is for me impossible to accord. 
 
 . . . Now as to the subject of your own personal suffer- 
 ings, I need not say how warmly I enter into them and 
 how much I feel for your being subjected to such severe 
 trials ; 'tis an evil for which there seems no cure, and 
 which patience only can alleviate. Suspicion is a monster 
 'tis vain to contend with ; it can swallow everything or it 
 can live upon nothing ; its patience is as inexhaustible as its 
 ingenuity is wonderful, and it builds castles out of rubbish, 
 and as often as they fall for want of a foundation it 
 collects fresh materials and begins anew. The provoking 
 thing is, it's always to be seen but never to be caught, so 
 that there's no hopes of ever being able to overcome it. 
 Sometimes, indeed, it dies for want of air, and I sincerely 
 trust that may be the case in the present instance, for I 
 know not a more irksome situation for an ingenuous mind 
 than the one you describe in your own whimsical way. 
 As to what you call your perfect man, I can only say our 
 ideas on that subject differ very widely. I've lately 
 discovered that I had the felicity of dancing with this 
 prodigy about two years ago, and I remember I then 
 thought him a perfect child, and could have patted his 
 head and set him on my knee and fed him with sweet- 
 meats for being a good boy and a pretty dancer. But as to 
 his being a perfect man ! Wait till he has attained the 
 ripeness of my currant and had some fifty suns to warm 
 him, and then I'll own it possible for him to be perfect. 
 As to what I've heard, it was neither more nor less than 
 that you loved and were beloved by a certain honourable 
 cousin of your own at that time, 1 and this the perfect man 
 declares, and also that he was ^.perfect cafs-paw to you on 
 the occasion, so that I see he has some claims to perfec- 
 tion. . . . What do you say to this ? 
 
 I sent you some paper by a Sylvan swain as having 
 
 1 Lord Napier. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii MISS MACKENZIE 6 1 
 
 departed this world long before your letter reached it. I 
 also used the freedom to introduce my favourite Julia 
 upon you, but had not time to accompany her with a little 
 anecdote of the author's family that occurred tother day ; 
 so here it is. You must know his eldest daughter has been 
 begotten, born, and bred in such a delicate, elegant, chaste, 
 modest, refined, sentimental manner as baffles the de- 
 scription of a poor, ignorant, homespun maiden like me. 1 
 Her father's Man of Feeling is a ruffian compared to her 
 and Julia no better than she should be when placed along- 
 side of this most sensitive virgin. It so happened that 
 one day lately, as she was teaching her little sister to read, 
 what should present itself in black and white but the word 
 bastard '! The lady, as all modest maids would or should 
 do in a similar situation, trembled, turned pale, and would 
 undoubtedly have swooned away but for the importunities 
 of the child to be informed of the meaning of the word. 
 After much hesitation she at length told her in a faltering 
 tone that it signified a child without parents, ' just such as 
 little Tommy,' naming a poor orphan she takes charge of. 
 The child was satisfied. There was a very large party came 
 to dinner shortly after, and one of the party happened to 
 ask this little innocent girl what she was working. ' Oh,' 
 quoth she, ' I am very busy indeed ; I'm making a shirt for 
 my sister's bastard.' 
 
 . . . Apropos of Sarks, did you ever see how to cut out 
 a shift in a letter from a lady to a gentleman ? I'll send 
 it you before the noble lord leaves this 2 ; that noble 
 personage visited me yesterday, and I did not fail to ask 
 permission to suppose him at Ardencaple, and though the 
 favour was purely imaginary would you believe he had the 
 churlishness to refuse it point blank ! But, indeed, that was 
 only of a piece with the rest of his behaviour, only, as 
 
 1 This is probably the daughter of she had beauty of a particularly ele- 
 
 Henry Mackenzie whom Mrs. Grant gant kind, perfect good breeding, fine 
 
 describes as 'a lovely, meek crea- taste, and gentle manners.' Letters , 
 
 ture, little known in the world, but vol. iii. pp. 188, 282. 
 very dear to her family ! In her youth 2 Lord John Campbell. (J F.) 
 
62 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 Thady says, I don't choose to say what I think till I know 
 whether you're staunch ; only let me know your sentiments, 
 and whether you'd be pleased to abuse him by the hour or 
 the yard, the year or the rood, name but your time and 
 manner, and command my services. He told me of the 
 scandalous and Satan-like device he had practised upon 
 you, and he told it without the smallest symptom of 
 contrition or remorse. I therefore deemed it incumbent 
 upon me to manifest my disapprobation by one of the most 
 awful frowns that I could possibly summon on such short 
 notice, and it would be well if all honest people would 
 follow my example and withdraw their countenance from 
 such. . . I shan't say what ? Meantime, as he's to be here 
 for some days, I desire you'll be pleased to send me a 
 volume post haste under his cover. You need be under no 
 apprehensions about it; he dare not use any improper 
 liberties with me, knowing I'm at the lug o' the law, as they 
 say. Seriously I shall expect a letter from you on Sunday 
 morning and shall have a Kiver 1 ready prepared to reply 
 by return of post, as we must make the most of our time 
 and freedom. You may perhaps expect that I should go 
 off with a sneaking apology for the length, dulness, and 
 illegibility &c. of this epistle, but be assured I shall do no 
 such thing. All that I mean to do is to inform you, in case 
 you don't know, that I am your more than any other 
 person's most affectionate friend. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VER1NG 
 
 September 26, 1809. 
 
 I scorn your secrets, Shylock that thou art ! With your 
 little haggling huxter-like ways methinks I see you seated 
 in due state at a little stall retailing your penn'orth of 
 apples and your farthing's worth of gingerbread, and trying 
 to cheat poor children out of the coppers by imposing 
 some of your trumpery upon them, even as you would 
 beguile me of my sterling knowledge with palming some 
 
 1 A frank. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN 63 
 
 of your pretended secrets upon me. You are worse than 
 Shylock or any of the tribe I ever heard of, for you insist 
 upon the money being paid down before the goods are 
 delivered, and without giving me any security that they 
 ever will be. Be sure you promise upon your honour, but 
 let me tell you, miss, a young lady's honour is too precarious 
 a substance to put much dependence upon ; for example, 
 what think you of the fate of Miss Latham, and if such 
 things come to pass in civilized countries, what are you to 
 expect in your barbarous regions ? For my part I think she 
 had better have pocketed the affront, seeing as how she 
 says it could not be helped. 
 
 ... I dare say all the old tabbies in town are sitting 
 on their sofas with white sashes on, ready to faint away at 
 the sight of a man ! By-the-bye, she must have been an 
 old-fashioned toad to have an handkerchief and a sash upon 
 her person, and there's the mischief of wearing clothes. 
 Had she been clad alfresco (as every modest woman ought) 
 the deed could not have been done for want of those 
 necessary implements of war ; but, to be sure, if people will 
 furnish arms against themselves they must stand the conse- 
 quences ! And, to set you an example, I am going to tell 
 you that I'm deeply and desperately in love ! And what 
 makes my case particularly deplorable is that there's not 
 the least prospect of the dear man lending so much as a 
 little finger to pull me out of the mire into which he has 
 plunged me ! Were I possessed of the same mean spirit 
 of bartering as you, I'd have you to guess his degree ; but 
 you'd as [soon] bethink you of the great Cham of Tartary 
 as the Right Honourable John Philpot Curran, Master of 
 the Rolls, Ireland ! ! ! I wish I could give you any idea of 
 his charms but, alas ! my pen does not, like Rousseau's, 
 ' brtile sur le papier ' ; and none but a pen of fire could 
 trace his character or record the charms of his conversation. 
 Don't set me down for mad, for I assure you I'm only 
 bewitched, and perhaps time and absence may dissolve the 
 magic spells. He had the cruelty to tell me he liked me, 
 
64 ' MARRIAGE ' en. n 
 
 and then he left me. Had my eyes been worth a button 
 they'd soon have settled the matter ; but there's the misery 
 of being sent into the world with such mussel shells ! ! I 
 (a modest maiden) said nothing, and it seems they were 
 silent ; and so we parted, never to meet again ! ! ! But 
 seriously, I have been very much delighted and gratified 
 by a visit from this most extraordinary being, 'whose 
 versatility of genius' (as Sir John Carr justly observes for 
 once) ' is the astonishment and admiration of all who come 
 within its range.' I'll certainly live seven years longer for 
 having seen him. Lord Frederick 1 dined here with him, 
 and was delighted. By-the-bye, I wonder how he can be 
 plagued with that little fat capon (Mr. Cailly) always trott- 
 ing at his heels ! 2 . . . . My brothers go to Inveraray on 
 Saturday morning, so if you want any duds, please to 
 apprise me in proper time. 
 
 Adieu hastily, but affectionately, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 Please not to leave this in your ridicule, and write 
 speedily. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Conheath : July 26, 1809. 
 
 I was so disconcerted at receiving your letter when I 
 looked for nothing less than seeing your own dear self, that 
 I have had no spirit to answer it sooner, but time (that 
 seldom restores a blessing) has at length restored my wonted 
 serenity. I was likewise somewhat consoled by a sight of 
 Madlle, though certainly her appearance was not calculated 
 to bestow much comfort, as she was in all the agonies of a 
 sprained foot and eight children. 3 She told me how basely 
 Lord John had behaved in giving her the slip and leading 
 Lady Charlotte astray, for which (if there is truth in trans- 
 
 1 Lord Frederick Campbell, brother kinsman to the Misses Berry. His 
 of John, fifth Duke of Argyll ; he was name is misspelt in the text. (J. F.) 
 Lord Registrar of Scotland, and died 3 The family of Lady Charlotte 
 in London 1816. (J. F.) Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Mr. Cayley, a London lawyer, a 
 
en. ii CCELEBS AND MISS EDGWORTH 6$ 
 
 migration) his soul will certainly be transfused into the 
 body of a nursery-maid with the care of ten children, two 
 of them teething. I saw that noble personage as he passed 
 through Edinburgh, but during his stay there I suppose 
 he was, as usual, entirely engrossed by his beloved Bessy, 1 
 and I hear he has nursed her to some purpose, as she is 
 quite recovered, contrary to my prognostics, as I took all 
 possible pains to convince her that she would never be 
 well until she had blistered her body all over ; but she 
 vowed against all mortification of the flesh, so I presume 
 his Lordship's prescriptions have been of a more agree- 
 able nature. Don't tell her this, or she'll be the death 
 of me, and I'm not the least in a dying strain at present, 
 being in high health and preservation, and quite satis- 
 fied with myself, which is more than many can say who 
 have rather better reason ; but a sick bed is an excellent 
 school for future enjoyment. ... I came to this naughty 
 place a few days ago, and am leading the life of an absolute 
 beast, for I do naught but wander about the fields, and eat 
 of the fruits of the earth and drink buttermilk, till I'm 
 become so fat I'm the admiration of all the cowfeeders in 
 the parish. By-the-bye, I expect to rival fat Lambert of 
 famous memory, or rather to fill his place in the world, and 
 to be wheeled about the country in my caravan with my 
 trumpeters and beefeaters ; but even should I arrive at 
 that celebrity, I promise you I shall always make it a point 
 to pay you a visit gratis. I'm glad you like ' Ccelebs ' the 
 book I mean, for the man is insupportable. He's a good 
 well-meaning creature, to be sure, and is of great use in 
 making a pertinent remark or hitching in a hackneyed 
 observation whenever the conversation begins to flag, but 
 farther his merits I could not descry. There is a deal of 
 good sense and truth throughout the whole book, and the 
 Stanley family are delightful upon paper. Have you read 
 Edgworth's ' Fashionable Tales ? ' I like the two first, but 
 none of the others. It is high time all good ladies and 
 
 1 Miss Mure. (J. F.) 
 
 F 
 
66 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 grateful little girls should be returned to their gilt boards, 
 and as for sentimental weavers and moralising glovers, I 
 recommend them as penny ware for the pedlar. I lent 
 * Ccelebs ' to Lord John, who has promised me some marginal 
 notes upon it, which I think will prove a great addition to 
 the next edition. I can't tell you what the world's about, 
 for I'm quite out of it at present, and see nobody but 
 innocent natives, and hear nothing but parish news. For 
 myself, I'm just such another harmless innocent as Mrs. 
 Commissary's monkey, for ' I joost play mysel' wi' a windle 
 strae.' I hope your sea Fowels have taken flight ; it must 
 have been a tender squeeze from some of their amphibious 
 fangs that broke my ring deny it if you dare. I'm going 
 to commit this to the care of your most puissant uncle- 
 it is such another desperate expedient as putting a letter 
 into a bottle and committing it to the mercy of the waves. 
 I write at the risk of my life, for I'm dying of heat, 
 but the only thing that will revive me will be to hear 
 from you and that you are well and happy, not * sick and 
 melancholy! 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLAVERING (1809) 
 
 I am overwhelmed with sin, in the shape of your letters, 
 and like all agreeable sins I have paid dear for them, as all 
 the world will agree when I declare that your first * King 
 Crispin ' dispatch cost me a crown (and here it may be 
 proper to apprise you that in the days of King Stephen a 
 pair of handsome culottes cost that monarch no more than 
 what I paid for your letter). Your next amiable packet 
 amounted to the gross sum of four shillings, and your last 
 cross composition completely exhausted the accumulated 
 patience of twenty-seven years. To remedy those evils, and 
 for the benefit of your correspondents in general, I shall sub- 
 mit a small code of laws and regulations to which you will 
 please to subscribe. 
 
 1st. All letters containing billets-doux or enclosures of 
 
en. ii LETTERS TO MISS CLAVERING 6/ 
 
 whatever description, whether relating to soul or body, to 
 be either franked or post paid. 
 
 2nd. The contents of all franks, however light in their 
 nature, to be duly weighed before being despatched, and 
 not to exceed one ounce avoirdupois weight. 
 
 3rd. No commissions to be written across upon pain of 
 their not being answered. 
 
 But seriously, are you not shocked to think of my 
 having paid nine shillings for your two chits of letters ? 
 Such paltry suggestions are, to be sure, unheard of in the 
 annals of novel writing, for never was the postman's demand 
 known to interrupt the tender effusions of two sympathetic 
 souls, even though their bodies^ should be starving in a 
 garret or their last shift pawned for a sixpence. But I, 
 alas ! am a stranger to those exalted ideas. I am in use 
 to eat a plentiful dinner, to wearing a flannel petticoat, so 
 pray when you deign to write to a person of my low degree 
 don't treat me as though I were one of your Signora Bianca 
 della Manchas. 
 
 . . . And now I must congratulate you upon your 
 return to this favoured land, where I pray you may long 
 flourish and put forth branches and green leaves like a 
 goodly tree. I was beginning to fear you were going to 
 engraft your noble stock upon some of the little scions you 
 wrote me about, particularly as I heard one of them was 
 languishing for your love. Apropos of that passion so 
 miscalled, did you hear that wee Wynne is going to clothe 
 herself with a husband, and such a one ! Apollo is truly a 
 God compared to him. Were there ever such a pair of 
 little infatuated foolies ? I hope they're mad, poor things, 
 as their best and only excuse. Your cousin Anne * is my 
 authority, and I refer you to her for the melancholy par- 
 ticulars. She is, I think, grown quite handsome, and is 
 vastly sensible and agreeable. As for your base attempts 
 to depreciate the charms of my present mode of living, I 
 
 1 Hon. Anne Napier, married, 1816, Sir T. Gibson Carmichael, Bart, 
 
 a- F.) 
 
 F 2 
 
68 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 can only ascribe them to the blackest envy and grossest 
 ignorance, else how could you compare the savage enjoy- 
 ments to be found amongst your misty mountains to the 
 elegant seclusion and refined pleasures to be met with in 
 this queen of cities ? There you behold nothing but de- 
 caying nature, such as dropping leaves, fading flowers, 
 drooping trees. Here I contemplate the progress of the 
 Arts in streets building, houses repairing, shops painting. 
 There no sound salutes your ear save the monotonous din 
 of some tinkling rill or tumbling cascade. Here I am 
 regaled from morning till night with an enchanting variety, 
 from the majestic rumble of a Hackney coach to the 
 elegant trot of a post-chaise. While ever and anon inter- 
 venes the liquid notes of some sea nymph warbling c Caller 
 herrin'.' As to the olfactory delights, I need not expatiate 
 upon them ; 'tis well known what a boundless store this 
 town affords, rich and inexhaustible as nature herself. 
 
 As to my associating with cats, if I do let me tell you 
 they are of a very different description from your wild 
 Highland mousers, who would make no ceremony of tear- 
 ing one's eyes out, while my tame domesticated creatures 
 are quite content if you throw them some little bit of a 
 tattered reputation to play with. Mine, thank my stars, 
 is of a texture to defy both tooth and claw. . . . 
 
 But by this time you must be convinced of the vanity 
 of supposing that I could forego all the dear delights of 
 Edinburgh at this enchanting season for the purpose of 
 vegetating at Inveraray. I was interrupted by a visit from 
 Miss Lament, wringing her hands and turning up the 
 whites of her eyes in black despair at being doomed to 
 sojourn in this wilderness of sweets. I tried to be very 
 sorry for her, but I'm afraid I did not succeed according 
 to her expectations. For my own part I'm quite contented 
 so long as I have health, my books, work, a good fire, and 
 my faithful blear-eyed dog. ... I want but my child to 
 complete my felicity. I wish you'd make haste and have 
 one, and I'll engage to dry nurse it, and train it up in the 
 
en. n LINES ON A DOG 69 
 
 paths of righteousness. At present I am obliged to devote 
 my affections to petrified fish and preserved butterflies. 
 Give my love to my love, and tell him I languish for some 
 of his verses to sweeten my solitude. Do try and pick up 
 some little morsel for me as an atonement for your sins, 
 though you need never hope for my forgiveness till you've 
 wet six pockethandkerchiefs with your tears, dried them 
 with your sighs, and covered two pairs of sheets (of paper) 
 with your apologies. You complain of your awkwardness at 
 apologising. Let me see how handsomely you'll acquit 
 yourself on this occasion, and as you hope for mercy, write 
 instantly to your much aggrieved though still affectionate 
 friend, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 And then I believe we shall go by Taymouth and 
 farther and farther and farther than I can tell, till at last we 
 will come to a fine Castle, 1 and a beautiful Ladie, 2 called the 
 Queen of the Dogs. Do you know her? Apropos of dogs, 
 you had very near been the death of my darling, as you shall 
 hear. 
 
 Air MAID IN BEDLAM 
 
 One morning very lately, one morning in June, 
 
 I rose very early and went into the toon. 
 
 My doggie walked behind me, behind me walked he, 
 
 For I love my dog because I know my dog loves me ! 
 
 Oh ! cruel was Miss Clavering to send me to the street ; 
 She sent me for to buy silk hosen for her feet. 
 And there my leetle dog a great big dog did spye, 
 And I love my dog because I know my dog loves I. 
 
 No sooner did my leetle dog the meikle dog behold 
 Than at him he did fly like any lion bold. 
 It was a sad and piteous sight for tender eyes to see ; 
 For I love my dog because I know my doggie loves me. 
 Oh ! sore did I screech and loudly did I pray 
 For some kind stick to drive the meikle dog away. 
 I never shall forget my fright until the day I dee, 
 For I love my dog because I know my dog loves me. 
 
 1 Ardencaple. (J. F.) 2 Miss Clavering. (J. F.) 
 
70 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 And when I got niy leetle dog his hind leg was bit thro', 
 And as he could not walk I knew not what to do. 
 At length I spied a coachman, beside a coach stood he, 
 And I love my dog because I know my dog loves me. 
 
 And I called to me the coachman, and unto him did say, 
 Lift my dog into your coach and then drive away. 
 The coachman looked full scornful till I showed a silver key, 
 And I love my dog because I k-no-w . . my d-og g y 
 lo ves m e. (Da Capo.} 
 
 "This is a true and faithful account, and should be a 
 warning to all ladies how they walk the streets with little 
 doggies. Mine I assure you suffered severely in your 
 service, and though his wound is now healed, I think his 
 general health is considerably impaired by the shock his 
 nerves must have experienced. The medical people are of 
 opinion sea bathing might prove of benefit to him. I say 
 nothing, but if you have a spoonful of marrow in your 
 bones you'll sit down before you read another word and 
 pen him a handsome invitation. As for the eighteen 
 pence it cost me for coach hire, I shall let that pass, as I 
 never expect to see it again. As for the airs you give 
 yourself about wearing white silk stockings I like that 
 mightily you've a pair of good white satin ones of your 
 own spinning, that will stand both wear and tear, and 
 never lose their colour by washing, so you must e'en make 
 them serve you through the summer, for none other will I 
 send. I sent to Bessie Mure desiring her to surrender up 
 her cheap glover, as I looked upon him as a much more 
 desirable thing than a dear lover, so she made answer 
 that she knew of no cheap men, but she directed me to 
 where I could get good gloves at is. ^d. per pair. Well, 
 away I trotted, resolved to become hand in glove with this 
 pattern glover. So I went into the shop. 
 
 ' Show me some good stout ladies' gloves,' quoth I ; 
 
 So he took down a parcel and gave me them to try ; 
 
 I picked out a dozen of pairs and said, ' Now, I'm willing 
 
 To take all these if you'll give me them at the shilling. ' 
 
 Then the glover clasped his hands and said, ' Madame, I declare 
 
 I could not sell those gloves for less than three shillings a pair. ' 
 
CH. ii LINES ON A GLOVER 7 1 
 
 So I said ' I was told you had very good gloves at sixteenpence, 
 
 And your asking three shillings for these must be all a pretence. ' 
 
 Then he brought forth a huge bundle and opened it out ; 
 
 * There, ma'am, are the gloves made from the hide of a nout, 
 
 But no more to compare with the skin of a kid or dog 
 
 Than the breast of a chicken to the back of a hog.' 
 
 So, having nothing to reply to a simile so sublime, 
 
 I was glad to sneak pff and say I would come back when I had 
 
 more time, 
 And I swear that's as true as I am now writing rime. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 La pauvre Justine, 'tis very hard, as you observe, that 
 nobody will put her in the way of doing a good work. 
 I'm afraid, like the Dutch women, she'll be obliged to 
 engender a sooterkin herself, if so be it's for the love of a 
 child. What you relate to me of Madlle. gives me the 
 most serious concern ; as the improprieties of her life and 
 conversation cannot possibly be caused by the allurements 
 of the flesh, they must needs proceed from the assaults 
 of the devil. Tis a dreadful thought that he has got his 
 cloven foot inside your convent. The only remedy that I 
 can suggest is to summon the Rev. Paul to exhort you. I 
 meant to have written you such a letter as you never had 
 seen in your days before it was to have been longer and 
 longer and longer than I can tell, but I must go and write 
 to a pure good honest woman, after having performed some 
 mental ablutions to purge away the iniquities I have 
 imbibed from so long communing with your evil spirit. I 
 must give you great praise for your last letter to encourage 
 you in well doing. Go on, my child, and prosper in the 
 path I have pointed out to thee, hold fast thy foolscap and 
 let it not depart from thee. But, without joke, your last 
 letter was without exception the wittiest I ever received, 
 which I impute to the great scope you had to indulge your 
 fancy in. While here am I forced to swallow and contain 
 such a quantity of the cleverest, wittiest, and most humorous 
 sayings as would fill a volume. But the foolscap fits not 
 
72 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 my years nor dignity. Write me instantly, I charge thee, 
 upon pain of my displeasure venting itself in the form of a 
 letter. Farewell, pet of my heart. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLAVER1NG 
 
 20th. 
 
 In my journey as laziness has done in my letter I have 
 left you a gown, but not the one your wayward fancy had 
 fixed upon, for two reasons the one is because it did not 
 look pretty in the piece, though you thought it so in the 
 pattern, and the other is because I do not think 'tis whole- 
 some for young maidens of your disposition to get every- 
 thing they desire, and, indeed, had I followed my own 
 inclinations, a full suit of sackcloth should have been thy 
 portion, for thou hast great cause, child, to fast, pray and 
 mortify the flesh in order to purge thy soul from the carnal 
 desires that seem to have taken possession of thee. To 
 this end I do most earnestly recommend to thee to stripe 
 and physic thyself till thou art totally unable to stand, sit, 
 and, above all, speak. 
 
 20th. 
 
 . . . This is in revenge for your presumption in daring 
 to talk of love to a spinster of my years and discretion. 
 Know, Mistress, that I despise love and have no love for 
 anything in the world except wooden men and acting 
 magistrates. How can you talk to me of balls and dances, 
 and drinking bouts I, who lead the life of a saint upon 
 earth, and eschew all such evil and vain pursuits ? But 
 surely the town, Fm told, is very dull, for it is pretty much 
 the same to me at all seasons. By-the-bye, was it in joke 
 or earnest that you said you were coming here in January ? 
 I hope it was the latter, as I think you'd be the better of 
 six weeks of Reekie to rub off the rusticity you will doubt- 
 less have contracted in the country. There are plenty of 
 houses to be had, so do pray make up your mind and get 
 your mamma to pack up. You need not mind the expense, 
 
CH. ii LETTER TO MISS CLAVERING 73 
 
 because we're all to be dead before next summer. We're 
 first to die of famine in the winter, and Bonaparte's to 
 come and rob and murder us all in the spring. So says 
 the Dss. of Gordon, and it must be so, because she 
 says everything she has ever predicted has always come 
 to pass. 
 
 S> E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Your letter, ma'am, with joy I read, 
 It seemed like tidings from the dead, 
 So full of fire andyfr/ofo, too, 
 Of spectres green and spirits blue. 
 
 Give me credit for my prudence, which makes me with- 
 hold from your giddy pate the rest of my most adorable 
 rhymes, but you may take my word for it that they are the 
 cleverest, the wittiest, the sensiblest, the elegantest of 
 possible verses, and that nothing the least like them has 
 appeared since the day Eve first sported her green Dickie. 
 As to your base rhymes, I had seen them before and 
 deemed them far beneath your notice, for who, pray, when 
 they purchase a fiddle ever thinks of looking to the case ? 
 In my humble opinion you might, if you had pleased, have 
 played a mighty pretty tune upon this same fiddle and 
 danced to it also, not a horn pipe, but a good old-fashioned 
 country dance to the tune of ' Money in both pockets,' 
 which, let me tell you, Miss, is something better than your 
 favourite air of ' Go to the devil and shake yourself.' Then 
 to think of the happy consequences that would result to 
 posterity from this union. For as the family of the R's 
 are rather remarkable for the saving graces, how completely 
 would that evil propensity be counteracted by having a 
 
 few drops of the A 11 blood circulating in their veins ! 
 
 As for Lord John, he need never hope to have rest in his 
 bed if he don't make a marriage of it. The shade of 
 Camilla will certainly haunt him, and her perturbed spirit 
 hover over his couch upbraiding him with broken vows if he 
 fails to accomplish this grand desire. Apropos, pray ask 
 
74 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 him if he has a mind for another Bet upon that subject, as 
 I heard to-day that the physicians declare she is in no 
 immediate danger. I heard also (what, however, I don't 
 believe) that she says she has no fear of death as she has all 
 her life been kind to animals. 
 
 A most convenient creed I must own for some people, 
 and if our rewards hereafter are to be proportioned to our 
 merits in this particular, I know one little sinner who will 
 rank very high amongst the saints ; but woe to me for the 
 vengeance I used to take on the hides of your wretched 
 hounds ! What are your present pursuits and future plans ? 
 and is there any chance of your coming here in the course 
 of the winter ? 
 
 I am busied in the Arts and Sciences at present, japan- 
 ning old boxes, varnishing new ones, daubing velvet, and, 
 in short, as the old wives say, ' my hands never out of an 
 ill turn.' Then, by way of pastime, I play whist every 
 night to the very death with all the fusty dowagers and 
 musty mousers in the purlieus and yet I'm alive ! Praise 
 be to oysters and porter. If you wish to be corpulent, eat 
 a score of the one and drink a bottle of the other every 
 day, and you'll soon be unwieldy, and, if you persevere, will 
 in time arrive at a waddle. 
 
 I send you a precious gift ! a piece of charmed cake, 
 which has undergone all the customary ceremonies, such as 
 being drawn thirteen times through the marriage ring, &c., 
 &c. It is, alas ! not my own, but I trust that will follow ; it 
 is the daughter of my love, who was this day married to 
 my cousin, which makes a charming opening for me, as my 
 beloved is [now] left solitary, and solitude is the nurse of 
 love but methinks eighty requires another sort of nurse, 
 and so I shall insinuate my services. Fail not to relate 
 your dreams unto me, and I will then expound. I hear 
 stocking working is (or was) the rage. 
 
 Make my obeisance to Lord John, and that no carica- 
 ture has yet gladdened my sight. A Word to the Wise is 
 enough. Did you ever get my ( Princesse de Wolfenbuttle ' ? 
 
CH. ii WANTED A MORAL 75 
 
 As you never acknowledged her arrival, pray write to me 
 speedily. 
 
 The first suggestion of ' Marriage ' may be traced in 
 the two following letters. In all likelihood the ' proposal ' 
 which ' enchanted ' Miss Ferrier was a general scheme for 
 a joint novel, amplified and defined by her in the subsequent 
 letter. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Your proposals flatter and delight me, but how, in the 
 name of postage, are we to transport our brains to and fro ? 
 I suppose we'd be pawning our flannel petticoats to bring 
 about our heroine's marriage, and lying on straw to give 
 her Christian burial. Part of your plot I like much, some 
 not quite so well for example, it wants a moral. Your 
 principal characters are good and interesting, and they are 
 tormented and persecuted, and punished from no fault of 
 their own, and for no possible purpose. Now I don't think, 
 like all penny-book manufacturers, that 'tis absolutely 
 necessary that the good boys and girls should be rewarded, 
 and the naughty ones punished. Yet, I think, where there 
 is much tribulation, 'tis fitter it should be the consequence^ 
 rather than the cause of misconduct or frailty. You'll say 
 that rule is absurd, inasmuch as it is not observed in 
 human life ; that I allow, but we know the inflictions of 
 Providence are for wise purposes, therefore our reason 
 willingly submits to them. But as the only good purpose 
 of a book is to inculcate morality, and convey some lesson 
 of instruction as well as delight, I do not see that what is 
 called a good moral can be dispensed with in a work of 
 fiction. Another fault is your making your hero attempt 
 suicide, which is greatly too shocking, and destroys all 
 the interest his misfortunes would otherwise excite that, 
 however, could be easily altered, and in other respects I 
 think your plot has great merit. You'll perhaps be dis- 
 pleased at the freedom of my remarks ; but in the first 
 
76 ' MARRIAGE 
 
 en. ii 
 
 place freedom is absolutely necessary in the cause in which 
 we are about to embark, and it must be understood to be 
 one if not the chief article of our creed. In the second 
 (though it should have been the first), know that I always 
 say what I think, or say nothing. Now as to my own 
 deeds I shall make no apologies (since they must be 
 banished from our code of laws) for sending you a hasty 
 and imperfect sketch of what I think might be wrought up 
 to a tolerable form. I do not recollect ever to have seen 
 the sudden transition of a high-bred English beauty, who 
 thinks she can sacrifice all for love, to an uncomfortable 
 solitary Highland dwelling 1 among tall red-haired sisters 
 and grim-faced aunts. Don't you think this would make 
 a good opening of the piece ? Suppose each of us try our 
 hands on it ; the moral to be deduced from that is to warn 
 all young ladies against runaway matches, and the cha- 
 racter and fate of the two sisters would be unexceptionable. 
 I expect it will be the first book every wise matron will 
 put into the hand of her daughter, and even the reviewers 
 will relax of their severity in favour of the morality of 
 this little work. Enchanting sight ! already do I behold 
 myself arrayed in an old mouldy covering, thumbed and 
 creased, and filled with dog's-ears. I hear the enchanting 
 sound of some sentimental miss, the shrill pipe of some 
 antiquated spinster, or the hoarse grumbling of some 
 incensed dowager as they severally inquire for me at the 
 circulating library, and are assured by the master that 'tis 
 in such demand, that though he has thirteen copies, they 
 are insufficient to answer the calls upon it, but that each 
 of them may depend upon having the very first that comes 
 in ! ! ! Child, child, you had need be sensible of the value 
 of my correspondence. At this moment I'm squandering 
 mines of wealth upon you, when I might be drawing 
 treasures from the bags of time ! But I shall not repine if 
 you'll only repay me in kind speedy and long is all that 
 
 1 Glenfern. Dunderawe Castle, on mind when she drew this sketch of a 
 Loch Fyne, was in Miss Ferrier's * solitary Highland dwelling. ' (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii PLAN FOR ' MARRIAGE ' 77 
 
 I require ; for all things else I shall take my chance. 
 Though I have been so impertinent to your book, I never- 
 theless hope and expect you'll send it to me. Combie 1 
 and his daughter (or Mare, as you call her) are coming to 
 town about this time, as I'm informed, and you may easily 
 contrive to catch them (wild as they are) and send it by 
 them, for there's no judging what a picture will be like 
 from a mere pen-and-ink outline ; if that won't do, is there 
 not a coach or a carrier? One thing let me entreat of 
 you : if we engage in this undertaking let it be kept a 
 profound secret from every human being. If I was sus- 
 pected of being accessory to such foul deeds my brothers 
 and sisters would murder me, and my father bury me 
 alive and I have always observed that if a secret ever 
 goes beyond those immediately concerned in its conceal- 
 ment it very soon ceases to be a secret. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 My dear Charlotte, Had you known me you would 
 surely never have thought of apologising to me for writing 
 in a more serious (and shall I say confidential) strain than 
 usual, since so far from considering it as a * piece of imper- 
 tinence,' I am much rather disposed to look on it as a sure 
 proof of your friendship. Every one that is not blind or 
 stupid must perceive without having it pointed out to them 
 that your present situation is one that to support must require 
 all the patience, good sense, sweetness of disposition you do 
 so eminently possess, and though I am far from approving 
 of weak regrets and unavailing complaints, yet as little 
 do I admire that sort of Spartan heroism that (like the 
 trite story of the boy and the fox) allows its very vitals to 
 be consumed in silence ! I can easily enter into those 
 feelings you did not think proper to express, having myself 
 frequently experienced similar ones, and I do not hesitate 
 to declare that I think the thousand little gnawing mortal 
 
 1 Campbell of Combie. (J. F.) 
 
78 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. I 
 
 vexations of which the world takes no account are harder 
 to be borne than even a severe dispensation of Providence, 
 in that though the heart be bruised it is at the same time 
 made better, and while the soul is elevated the passions 
 are stilled ; but in the daily, hourly, petty, inquietudes 
 inflicted by your fellow creatures we can discover no good 
 purpose to be fulfilled, nor draw any consoling reflections 
 from the excesses of ill-temper or the exercise of caprice. 
 However, doubtless those bitter roots are destined one day 
 to produce good fruits, though in the meantime the burden 
 is hard to bear. Would I could bear yours for you, my 
 dearest ! Many is the heavy load I have borne for myself 
 in former days, and cheerfully would I now submit to 
 carry one for your dear sake. But alas ! distance makes that 
 impossible. I cannot in the smallest degree evince my 
 friendship for you, though you have it in your power to 
 prove the extent of yours towards me by showing that, 
 though I cannot alleviate, you yet think me worthy of 
 sharing your inquietudes. You apologise by telling me 
 that ' out of the abundance of the heart,' and believe me I 
 would not give a single word from your heart for the 
 wittiest volume from your head. You will, perhaps, say I 
 am as Job's comforters, but the truth is I think there can be 
 nothing more irritating than the mistaken notion of one's 
 friends trying to persuade them that their miseries are 
 merely imaginary. I have always found that the heart too 
 well knoweth its own bitterness and that sympathy is a 
 more grateful balm than either remonstrance or advice. 
 But enough of this you'll say. I am truly sorry to see the 
 date of your letter, well knowing the change could not 
 be for your advantage, though, as I hear you've got a 
 road that has brought Inveraray to Ardencaple (or taken 
 Ardencaple to Inveraray, I don't know which), I conclude 
 you'll still pass most of your time there. How I wish 
 some such blest scheme could be devised for bringing us 
 some sixty miles nearer ! What great things might we 
 not bring to pass by the junction of our heads, but alas ! 
 
CH. ii LETTER TO MISS CLAVERING 79 
 
 what can we effect by the mere help of our hands ? Your 
 proposal enchants me, but how, in the name of impatience, 
 is it ever to be carried into execution ? Your brains are 
 all bespoke, and had you the hands of Briareus I suppose 
 they would be devoted to the service of the signoras; 
 perhaps, indeed, as you're very ingenious, you may have 
 trained up your toes to the business, but I should think 
 them better adapted to poetry, as then you'd be sure your 
 lines would never want metrical feet. You are kind 
 enough to inquire after my health, life, and conversation. 
 With regard to the first, I'm really excellently well ; for the 
 second, I eat, drink, and sleep it away to the best of my 
 ability, and for the last I flatter myself few are the idle 
 words or words spoken in vain that will rise up in judgment 
 against me . . As to my pursuits (of which you are likewise 
 pleased to express curiosity) learn that I'm at present in 
 habits of the strictest intimacy with the Roman emperors. 
 * Tis well you did not ask me what the world's doing, for 
 I know no more of its evolutions than if I were on the top 
 of Mount Caucasus or on the plains of Bagdad ! And I 
 protest to you (but 'tis in confidence), that but for the 
 rumbling of the carriages and the rattling of the chaise I 
 should not know when Catalani sings or Apollo 1 is 'at 
 home ' ! Apropos of the god, I heard of an entertainment 
 he gave lately that eclipsed everything that has been 
 seen since the days of Solomon, when gold and silver 
 were accounted as nought, and his little lady, like the 
 Queen of Sheba, arrayed in all manner of pleasant jewels, 
 while his honest mother, cased in a salmon-coloured satin, 
 went about whispering to the guests, ' Dear sirs, but Jeemie 
 has a hantel a' quality amang his akquantans.' I am told 
 the G. Lamont is going to be married to a Mr. Keith, 2 who's 
 deaf, but, entre nous, I don't think her husband's a bit to 
 
 1 Sobriquet for some well-known 2 She did marry Mr., afterwards 
 
 inhabitant of Edinburgh, but whom it Sir Alexander, Keith, of Ravelstone, 
 
 is difficult to conjecture at this dis- Keeper of the Regalia of Scotland, 
 
 tanceoftime. (J. F.) (J. F.) 
 
8O ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 be pitied for that. Tis well for me I'm not within reach 
 of a certain pair of Right Honourable Claws when I 
 expressed such a sentiment ! Apropos of the owner, pray 
 what is become of him ? l Is he gone on an Embassy to 
 the moon, or is he still an inhabitant of air ? I've, to oblige 
 you, been making particular inquiries after the amphibious 
 animal described in your last, and find he has by some 
 extraordinary chance been thrown within a few doors of 
 me. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLAVER1NG 
 
 My dear Chatty, It seems I am not to go to the 
 devil with a dish-clout at this time, for from a sorry kitchen 
 wench I'm now transformed into a gay ladye, and instead 
 of staying at home to dress dinners I do nothing but go 
 about devouring them. In plain terms I have got a cook, 
 a very bad one, but better than none, and I've invested her 
 with all the regalia of the kitchen, and given her absolute 
 dominion over the fish of the sea, and the fowls of the air, 
 and the cattle of the earth, and over every creeping thing 
 that creepeth on the face of the earth. I have not a 
 minute to speak to you, for really I do nothing but go out 
 to my dinner, and I'd a thousand times rather eat a raw 
 turnip at home as go to a feast abroad and play at ladies 
 and gentlemen all in a row ; but our career ends this week 
 and then we're to go into our graves and bury ourselves 
 alive for the rest of the winter ! And then I may sit and 
 hatch plots and compose poems as long as to-day and to- 
 morrow if I choose ! The very pen is like to jump out of 
 my fingers for joy, though it has small chance of partici- 
 pating in these glorious achievements, as its race is very 
 nearly run and a weary life it has had under me it must be 
 owned. Apropos, what would you think of writing the 
 life and adventures of a pen ? It has this instant flashed 
 upon me that something might be made of such a subject. 
 
 1 LordJ. Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii MISS TERRIER'S VERSES 81 
 
 Think well of it, Miss, and you shall have the honour of 
 beginning the story and continuing it, and if that won't 
 satisfy you shall conclude it too. As to your poem I'm 
 sorry I can't serve you, but you might just as well have 
 seriously asked me to compose you a Latin oration better 
 than any of Cicero's as have asked me to write verses after 
 Lady Charlotte ! If you call those pitiful doggerels (I sent 
 you in an access of folly) poetry * I'm sorry for you, Miss 
 Clavering, but I can't help it. I could not write poetry if 
 my life depended upon it, and I never even wrote a single 
 jingle of a rhyme but those I have sent you as aforesaid. 
 To be sure there is one encouraging circumstance, that 
 the writer of them is supposed to be no genius, and I'm 
 sure anything I can send will afford ample confirmation, if 
 any is required. I enclose you, therefore, the beginning 
 of a thing that I shall finish if you think it will do, 
 but I hope you won't stand upon the least ceremony 
 as to rejecting or receiving it as you think fit. At any 
 rate, I entreat you won't tell Miss Adair that it is mine, 
 because God forbid I should set up for a writer of poetry ! 
 I would give anything to see your novel ; do send me a 
 morsel of it, I'm sure I shall like it ; and you really could 
 not do me such a favour as to initiate me into the mysteries 
 of your imaginations. When will you be ready to join 
 hands with me? I've just seen Lord John about half a 
 minute since he came here ; Bessie Mure keeps him in her 
 ridicule and never lets anybody get a peep at him ; they 
 dined here on Monday, but they got such a beastly repast,, 
 and were so scurvily treated, that I've been sick ever since 
 with pure shame and vexation of stomach. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 In vain dost thou hope to overwhelm me with torrents 
 of ink, to strike terror into my soul with the point of thy 
 
 1 Possibly the verses on p. 70, Popian metre, addressed by Miss 
 or they may be some rather con- Ferrier to Miss Clavering, and pre- 
 ventional and humourless verses in served among the letters. 
 
 G 
 
82 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 pen, or to smother me in a sheet of foolscap. Even in thy 
 hands these enemies of destruction have no terrors for me ! 
 For know I am descended from a race of Scribes ; I was 
 born amidst briefs and deeds ; I was nurtured upon ink ; 
 my pap-spoon was the stump of an old pen, my chris- 
 tening suit was a reclaiming petition, and my cradle a 
 paper poke ! . . . 'Tis doubtless, therefore, from these 
 first rudiments of education I imbibed that surprising 
 elevation of soul which enables me (like certain savage 
 tribes) not only to support the malice of my foes, but even 
 to triumph and rejoice in the torture they inflict. It can 
 only be this ennobling principle which not only sustains me 
 under the weight of thy vengeance, but even causes me to 
 laugh and exult with true savage delight in the punish- 
 ment inflicted by thy most merciless hand ! Of this there- 
 fore be assured, that to whatever lengths your fury may 
 transport you, even though you were to scourge me with 
 pure white serpents, or set me to scour out the stains of 
 blood as they trickled from the stuccoed ceilings of the 
 Signora Bianca ! nay, even should your vengeance think 
 proper to visit me in those unquestionable shapes, I shall 
 not shrink from the visitation, dreadful as it may be. I 
 am ready to receive it, so do thy worst. I defy thee, Satan, 
 and all thy devices and dead works. But, really and truly, 
 you have inspired me with the most ardent longing to 
 behold this production of yours, and as I begin to suspect 
 I'm with Book myself, there's no saying what the conse- 
 quences may be if my inclinations are baulked. 1 
 
 On my bare bended knees do I therefore beseech you 
 to gratify me with a sight of your babe before he makes 
 his appearance in the world. Only consider how many 
 casualties he will experience before he attains maturity, 
 and then he will be so changed that I shall never be able 
 to recognise him as your child. He will be maimed by the 
 publishers, mutilated by the press, corrupted by the printer's 
 
 1 The obstetrical metaphor is, as we shall see, rather a favourite one 
 with Miss Ferrier. 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING'S NOVEL 83 
 
 devil, and even should he escape these dangers, who can 
 tell whether he may not be cut in pieces by those foul friends 
 the critics, who, like death, spare neither sex, nor youth, 
 nor beauty, nor talents, but sweep all that comes in their 
 way with the besom of destruction ? Moreover, consider 
 how precarious is human life ! I may make my exit with- 
 out having had the benefit of the delightful lessons of thy 
 wisdom ! I shall never know how the tail of a serpent came 
 to be transformed into the head of a young man, and the 
 dreadful secret will, alas ! ever remain a dead secret to me ! 
 Then think with what eclat I shall enter Pluto's dark 
 domains with the spirit of an unpublished novel by a lady 
 of distinction ! It will be the best possible letter of introduc- 
 tion to me, and I shall immediately be received into the 
 first circles there. Not an old dowager who will not be at 
 my beck, nor an authoress but will hasten to embrace 
 me. To yourself the advantages will be incalculable. Your 
 fame by my means will be spread abroad throughout the 
 whole kingdom ; your arrival will be most anxiously looked 
 for ; the banks of the Styx will be covered with crowds 
 waiting to hail your approach, and, in a word, you will 
 be received with every mark of honour it is in the power of 
 ghosts to pay. But seriously, will you not contrive some 
 means of indulging me with a sight of your book ? Miss 
 Mure will be coming to town soon ; send it by her, or any 
 other trusty and well beloved, and I'll sit up all night to 
 read it, and get it franked and returned to you safe and 
 sound next day. What do you say? I think the verses 
 you sent me quite beautiful ; there is in them, as in all 
 Lady Charlotte's poetry, so much delicacy and feeling as 
 show them to be the effusions of a tender heart and culti- 
 vated mind. A few more such favours will be highly 
 esteemed and carefully concealed. Mortal eye shall never 
 behold nor ear hear aught from me. I have the terror of 
 Midas' barber ever before me, and I shall not whisper it even 
 to the walls for fear the stones should sing forth the secret. 
 Mark the sympathy that subsists between us. At the self- 
 
84 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 same time you were gracefully smiling over the witticisms 
 of the incomparable Fidget was I likewise indulging my 
 mirth at her expense a striking proof of the similarity of 
 our pursuits in the paths of literature, and a strong argu- 
 ment that while you are revising the first volume of a book 
 I ought to be reviewing the second. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Feb. 1810. 
 
 What a glorious vision burst upon my sight as I 
 behold our heroine, even the beauteous Herminsilde, 
 sailing over the salt seas in an old beer barrel ! ! ! 
 My dearest of dear creatures, you must excuse me for 
 having skipped over all the dry land and plumped in, 
 heels over head, into the water, since really the barrel is as 
 buoyant in my imagination as erst it was in the Archi- 
 pelago. Methinks I behold the count and the squire 
 ramming her in like so much raw sugar, and treading her 
 down as the negroes do the figs, to make them pack 
 close ! Tis no wonder you pride yourself upon your 
 invention ; that is truly an incident for which you'll find no 
 parallel in the annals of novel writing ! A mere matter-of- 
 fact writer now, had they really wanted to drown a body, 
 would most likely have tied a good thumping stone about 
 its neck, and there would have been an end of it ; but your 
 count knows a trick worth two of that he either goes to 
 a cooper and bespeaks a good, stout, watertight cask (tho' 
 he seems such a scurvy old knave, I doubt if he'd have 
 been at the expense), or he picks up an old rum puncheon 
 belonging to the ship's crew, into which he crams his 
 victim, and then (tho' by what means the story does not 
 inform) this said enormous pipe or puncheon is in a trice 
 whisked out of a little cabin window ! ! ! Now if this is not 
 something new I should be very glad to know what is ? 
 Solomon, to be sure, some time ago gave it as his firm 
 opinion that there was nothing new under the sun ; but I 
 should like to know what he would have said to this ! 
 
CH. ii LETTER TO MISS CLAVERING 85 
 
 And here I must observe what a cruel thing it was of that 
 wise monarch to lay down the law so positively in that 
 particular. How many a bright genius has been stifled by 
 this smoky saying ! For my part I'm discouraged from 
 all attempts at novelty, when I think if there was 
 nothing new in those days what must it be now, when 
 every bit of ground from Parnassus Top to the Mummy 
 Pits of Egypt has been so poached ! However, I rejoice 
 to see your spirit soars superior to the shackles King 
 Solomon thought to impose ; and while I lament that my 
 grovelling nature cannot accompany you in your aerial 
 flights I shall yet do my best to speed your success in this 
 nether sphere. You say there are just two styles for which 
 you have any taste, viz. the horrible and the astonishing ! 
 Now I'll groan for you till the very blood shall curdle in 
 my veins, or I'll shriek and stare till my own eyes start 
 out of their sockets with surprise but as to writing with 
 you, in truth it would be as easy to compound a new 
 element out of fire and water, as that we two should jointly 
 write a book ! Not but in same things we perfectly 
 agree for example, bating the barrel. I give the most un- 
 qualified praise to the rest of your plot, which I think rich 
 in fancy and novelty and perfect throughout, until we come 
 to the end, where it again offends my nicety. It is a vile 
 catastrophe, a man sticking himself and dying like a calf, 
 and a woman throwing herself from the top of a high wall 
 as one would toss a dead cat ! You don't say how much 
 of it is your own and how much borrowed, so that I may 
 speak freely under favour of these little incidents being 
 the work of some bloody minded Frenchman's horrible 
 imagination. 
 
 ... In all things else, as I said before, I do highly 
 admire and applaud the story, and am of opinion that it 
 might form a most interesting romance if properly worked 
 up ; but there's the rub ! For my part I feel it would be a 
 work far beyond me. You, who are learned, and witty and 
 wise, and know all about the world, may pick and choose 
 
86 MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 your country, and be as much at home in one as in 
 
 another, but for a poor, unlettered, illiterate, unskilful 
 
 wight like me, what a figure should I make in foreign 
 
 parts ! . . . You may laugh at the idea of its being at all 
 
 necessary for the writer of a romance to be versed in the 
 
 history, natural and political, the modes, manners, customs, 
 
 &c. of the country where its wild and wanton freaks are to 
 
 be played, but I consider it as most essentially so, as nothing 
 
 disgusts an ordinary reader more than a discovery of the 
 
 ignorance of the author, who is pretending to instruct and 
 
 amuse him. If you'll wait a year perhaps I may have picked 
 
 up a little lair in that time, for, as you observe, I'm on the 
 
 right road to it at present ; but alas ! I have but just entered 
 
 upon it, and many a long day's journey lies before me ! 
 
 As to your other plans, I reject and spurn them all without 
 
 hesitation. A Hottentot heroine and a wild man of the 
 
 woods would be in truth a pair most 'justly formed to 
 
 meet by nature,' but I should despair of doing justice to 
 
 their wild paces and delicate endearments, though, by-the- 
 
 bye, I do think something might be made of such a couple. 
 
 Then as to your men of the moon, I shall have nothing 
 
 to say to them ; this globe contains men enough for me. 
 
 Better have one earthly man as a score of moonshine ones 
 
 methinks ; and as for their lives and conversation : 
 
 What, I prithee, ist to us, 
 
 If men o' the moon do thus or thus ; 
 
 How they eat their porridge, cut their corns, 
 
 Or whether they have tails or horns. 
 
 In short, I don't think we'll come to any understanding 
 upon paper, so we had best give up thoughts of the thing 
 till we meet, which we'll surely do some day or another 
 at any rate, I'm determined not to engage with you till 
 this of Lady Charlotte is at an end. And you likewise 
 mention one with Miss Adair ! l Caesar piqued himself, as 
 
 1 Daughter of Sir Robert Adair, She married the lion. Edward Grey, 
 K.C.B., brother of Viscountess Bar- Bishop of Hereford, and died in 1820. 
 rington and Mrs. Charles Clavering. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii LITERARY SCHEMES 87 
 
 I have been told, upon dictating three letters at a time. 
 How must his great shade be racked with spite and envy 
 if he sees a young lady composing three novels all in a 
 breath ! ! ! No, no ; as the old saying says, always finish 
 one thing before you begin another. I've the highest 
 respect and admiration of your talents and genius, but I 
 don't think there's a head in the world capable of contain- 
 ing and clearly arranging materials for three books, be 
 they what they may ; besides that, you can do nothing but 
 write, and though I approve of it as an amusement I by 
 no means commend it as the business of life too much 
 application is bad for the health and will spoil your eyes 
 and complexion, and, to tell you a bit of my mind, I don't 
 think you will ever write half so well as nature has written 
 upon you . . . I've said nothing of my own obstacles, 
 because I consider those on your side as sufficiently 
 powerful ; but I assure you I could no more accomplish 
 such a letter as you propose every week than a poor 
 wretch could promise to be witty and agreeable when 
 writhing in the cholic. In the first place, I really have not 
 much time I can absolutely command, for in a town, how- 
 ever privately or retired one may live, they're still liable to 
 a thousand interruptions ; in the next place, I have enough 
 to do with my time in writing to my sisters three, sewing 
 my seam, improving my mind, making tea, playing whist, 
 with numberless other duties too tedious to mention ; and, 
 in the third and last place, there's sometimes for a week 
 together that I can't bear the sight of a pen, and could no 
 more invent a letter than I could have discovered the 
 longitude. So for the present let us put our child to sleep 
 and hope for better times to wake him. Only, once for all, 
 let me promise to you that I will not enter into any of 
 your raw head and bloody bone schemes. I would not even 
 read a Book that had a spectre in it, and as for committing 
 a mysterious and most foul murder, I declare I'd rather 
 take a dose of asafcetida ; so don't flatter yourself with 
 the hope of associating me in your crimes and iniquities, for 
 
88 * MARRIAGE ' CH. i 
 
 I'll be partner in none of your bloody purposes, Miss. . . . 
 But enough of this. Why won't you tell me that you're 
 coming here with Lady Charlotte ? Thou cruel Lady of 
 the Mountains, thou dost nothing to cheer me. If you could 
 come with her I might prevail on mon pere to go back 
 with you, would not that be foine ? Say instantly what 
 you think possible. As to my sending my letters to you 
 under Lord John's cover, that's morally impossible for two 
 reasons : the first is that he positively forbid me, but said 
 if I chose to send them via London I might (which, by-the- 
 bye, I've a great mind to do, as they're never in a hurry) ; 
 the second is, that the post-office here has his address and 
 orders to send his letters to London ; and to my making 
 love to Members for such base purposes I'd have you to 
 know, Miss, I scorn such things, that I do, and, more than 
 that, there's not a Member in all this town at present nor yet 
 in all the country, I'm told. . . . And so you have the 
 assurance to compare that little ignoble paw to my own 
 graceful pothooks and hangers, which have no parallel 
 save in the hieroglyphics of Egypt ! But I scorn to waste 
 time upon one so ignorant of their value, and shall only 
 add my desire that you write directly and tell me whether 
 you're in a storm or a dead calm against me. Oh ! that 
 barrel, it will always be uppermost, do what I will. Farewell, 
 my nutmeg of delight ! that's one of the titles of the Grand 
 Signior, but I ween you're more worthy of it if so, look 
 upon me as your most attached Grater. I would have 
 written sooner, but have had a fit of the ophthalmia ever 
 since reading your last letter. You advise me to have 
 a reservoir of red ink always in the house. Horrible hint, 
 a human one I wot you mean ! I suppose the Goloch is 
 yours and that you dab a bare bodkin in her every time the 
 spirit of composing comes upon you ; 'tis no wonder your 
 writings have imbibed such a bloody character. 
 
LETTER TO MISS CLAVERING 89 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Feb. 13. 
 
 Miss Clavering, Madam, I have so many crows to 
 pick with you, I am quite at a loss which first to try my 
 hand upon. They're all much about one age and all alike 
 black, and the only way to choose is to begin with the 
 biggest. But belike you'd relish them better in a pie, and 
 though I can't promise to season mine so much to your 
 taste as the gusty ones you had at the minister's once upon 
 a time, and yet such as it is, hot or cold, you must stomach 
 it, so fall to. Pray what do you mean by writing to me in 
 the most vindictive, revengeful, unchristian, bloodthirsty 
 manner of the conduct of a noble personage, thereby 
 inflaming my choler, increasing my bile, agitating my chile, 
 and causing my gall to overflow, even to my finger-points, 
 and then when, like a doughty champion, I draw my dirk 
 and step forth to espouse your quarrel and redress your 
 wrongs you turn upon me with a stare of astonishment and 
 a * What d'ye mean ? I declare I don't know what you'd be 
 at. I never was the least angry with anybody, nor ever said 
 a word against any human being ; you must have dreamt 
 it,' and then you steal away and leave me fighting and 
 thrusting at my own shadow. 
 
 Allow me to help you to another crow, Miss. I've 
 suffered you to daub me all over many and many a time 
 with an odious composition of honey and butter, such as 
 they were wont to anoint criminals with for the cruel 
 purpose of aggravating the torments by attracting wasps 
 and flies. To this most inhuman operation I have sub- 
 mitted in silence nor ever breathed a murmur of complaint ; 
 but when in pure kindness I attempt to offer you a morsel 
 of fresh butter or a teaspoonful of virgin honey, just by 
 way of a little nourishment to yoUj you fly upon me like a 
 very fury and accuse me of a design to butter you all over, 
 and, in short, seem to suspect me of the same evil designs 
 you practise upon me. 
 
go 'MARRIAGE' CH..H 
 
 . . . Do you really think me capable of flattering, i.e. 
 of saying what I don't think ? Attend to what Julie says 
 on this subject the sentiment is the same, whether applied 
 to love or friendship * L'amant qui loue en nous des 
 perfections que nous n'avons pas les voit en effet telles qu'il 
 les represente. II ne ment point en disant des mensonges,' 
 &c. Now, I never did pretend to say you were bona fide 
 and and all that I maintain is, that I think you so, 
 which proves nothing, because an ancient philosopher has 
 proved, or tried to prove (which is all the same in the 
 Greek), that there's no such thing as reality ; that life's a 
 dream, pain a fancy, and that we've no further certainty of 
 our existence than what our own imaginations give us. 
 For aught I can tell, you may therefore be as ugly as an 
 ape, as stupid as an owl, as venomous as a toad, as cruel as 
 a hyena ; you may destroy your offspring before they're 
 born, like the silly ostrich ; or you may carry them about 
 with you in your pouch, like the tender kangaroo. All 
 these things you may be or do, and yet to my fancy you 
 may be fairer than an Houri, wise as a Genii, benevolent 
 as a Brownie. For my part, were you to cry me up to the 
 skies and tell me I had the grace and innocence of Eve, 
 with the beauty and amorous inclinations of Cleopatra, 
 the virtue and delicacy of Lucretia, &c., &c., I never could 
 have the incivility to tell you it was all a lie, or that you 
 were speaking nonsense. . . . Neither should I perhaps 
 be able to persuade myself it was so, tho' I should give 
 you credit for thinking so flatter me, then, as much as 
 you've a mind for, and the worst that can be said is that 
 I've 'cast glamour in your e'en.' 
 
 Now comes crow the third. Pray where did one of your 
 illustrious pedigree learn that pitiful trick of saying ' how 
 much do I owe you for this yard of ribbon, and how much 
 for that half of half a quarter of catgut and ' (oh ! that I 
 should soil my paper with such shop sneaking sentiments) 
 ' I'll send you the four and tenpence ha'penny by the first 
 opportunity, &c., &c.' ? Are you not ashamed of yourself ? 
 
CH. ii LETTER TO MISS CLAVERING 91 
 
 I'm sure you are. Only see how these pretty sayings look 
 upon paper and say whether they don't smell stronger of 
 the shop than the castle. However, I'll let you off for 
 this time upon condition that you make a handsome 
 apology, beg my pardon, and promise never to do the like 
 again. 
 
 I condole with you upon having fallen into the hands 
 
 of the Philistines, i.e. ; like smoke to the eyes, and 
 
 vinegar to the teeth, so is their tongue to the reputation 
 only, greedy as the world is for lies and nonsense, its maw 
 is not quite so rapacious as to swallow all that their evil 
 imaginations engender and their slanderous mouths bring 
 forth. I am not surprised that B.'s purity should take the 
 alarm at your dead works> since she held me up to the 
 scorn of the virtuous and the detestation of the pure in 
 heart for having written a letter to her poor brother, who 
 is now gone, on the subject of corn cutting. You will allow 
 I must have had some ingenuity if I could extract either 
 immorality or indecency from a corn ! But so it was. I 
 was reprobated by all the members of that Holy family as 
 one of the abandoned of my sex. I dare say B., if she were 
 in your situation, would think it a far more innocent way of 
 passing her time to fall into the vapours, or yield herself up 
 an unresisting victim to sullenness and spleen, than exert 
 her faculties, call in the aid of imagination (a thing, by-the- 
 bye, I suppose she thinks no modest maid should have), 
 support her spirits, and, while amusing herself, at the same 
 time take the chance of amusing others rather than do all 
 this, I ween she would think herself better employed sitting 
 with her * hands folded eating her own flesh.' You'll say 
 I'm very illnatured ; so I am I own in the present instanc e 
 when she seeks to deprive you of the only enjoyments you 
 have in the resources of your own talents ; take them away 
 and she certainly leaves you little to make merry with at 
 present. I understand she remains here. 
 
 You've never told me what's to be the fate of the book 
 since they have seen it? I hope it is not to spoil the sale 
 
92 * MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 of it. And now having bubbled over like a great boiling 
 cauldron, and got rid of my froth and scum, you shall come 
 to the good things at last ; but they deserve a page to them- 
 selves, so please turn over. 
 
 When will you write me such a letter as this with your 
 wide lines, long tails, and blank paper ? I mean this as a 
 pattern for you, and as soon as you've taken it off, I beg 
 you will throw it into the fire, as you'd do with the shape 
 of a cap or tucker. When you write, please put ' single ' 
 upon your letters, as the post-office people, rightly guessing 
 that they are worth two of any other person's, choose to 
 charge me accordingly. 
 
 6. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Sunday evening : 2Oth. 
 
 Did I not promise you a literary letter ? Alas ! my 
 hand turns pale and my pen is ready to swoon at the bare 
 mention of such an undertaking ! How shall these inex- 
 perienced innocents who have never strayed beyond the 
 precincts of folly, save to peep into the flowery field of 
 fiction how shall they ever find their way through the 
 mazes of literature and criticism ? Will they not be 
 plunged into the bogs of ignorance, driven against the 
 rocks of pedantry, or bewildered in the mazes of error? 
 Will they not have to combat prejudice, to conquer 
 partiality, to beware presumption ? Too surely all those 
 dangers beset those monsters that besiege the paths of 
 science, and unless vanquished at the very entrance seldom 
 fail to make the unwary passenger their prey ! Unlike the 
 fabled dragons of old, we cannot bribe them to let us pass 
 unmolested, but rather, like the fascinating syrens, they 
 charm us to our ruin ! ! ! There's an exordium for you, 
 that even out-Montagues Montague ! The cause of this 
 extraordinary burst of eloquent moralising proceeds solely 
 from that source of the true sublime in letter- writing. I 
 chanced to take up a volume of hers to keep me awake 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING'S NOVEL 93 
 
 after dinner, and the fancy took me to try whether, without 
 a grain of her talent, I could not write something about 
 nothing as flowery and pedantic as she had done. I 
 admired her letters at first reading, and still think some 
 of them the wittiest that ever were written but that ever- 
 lasting eternal preaching and prosing is execrable in every- 
 day letters, don't you think so ? 
 
 But to bring my criticism and remarks nearer home. 
 ... I yesterday sent off your production to your own 
 care sealed up and directed by one bookseller to another, 
 so all you have to do is to commit it to a penny post. 
 Whether it will be received or rejected the fates who preside 
 over the Minerva press alone can tell, and they're such 
 tongue-tied jades that they never speak but by signs. As 
 I told you before, its extreme shortness is its chief crime 
 and its excessive personality another ; it was in vain I pro- 
 tested there was not a word of truth in the whole volume, 
 but that it was a compilation of lies from beginning to end. 
 The man of learning shook his head, said it might be so, 
 but that it looked so like truth, few would care to publish it 
 for fear of being called to account (for you must know, 
 Ma'am, that according to law truth's a libel). I confess I 
 don't in the least wonder that a poor innocent bookseller 
 should doubt the fact of its being a falsehood when I, in 
 the sober certainty of its being a fiction, read it as Gospel ! 
 Most people complain of having their facts taken as false- 
 hoods, but I should suppose it was quite a new species of 
 distress in the annals of authorship to have lies mistaken 
 for truths. However, as the taste of the times is un- 
 doubtedly for private memoirs and personal satire I can't 
 believe that will be any serious objection to a London 
 publisher ; therefore, if it is returned you may ascribe its 
 failure entirely to its brevity and act accordingly. With 
 regard to the others I am very desirous that you should get 
 some person who is up to the art of bookmaking and book- 
 mending to revise and correct it before you give it to the 
 world, because you may be well assured the authors will 
 
94 ' MARRIAGE ' en. n 
 
 be no secret. Robert Campbell l speaks of your writing not 
 as a thing suspected, but quite ascertained. I affected to 
 disbelieve it, but he said anybody that had ever seen it 
 could not for a moment doubt its being the work of two 
 people, &c., &c. 2 This being the case, you certainly ought 
 to take all possible pains to have it unexceptionable as 
 possible, and the only way to accomplish that is to show it to 
 some friend on whose taste and judgment you can rely 
 and to whose correction you will submit. Lady Charlotte 
 has so many literary friends she can be at no loss. 
 Lewis 3 I should conceive might be of use, and is not Mrs. 
 Darner un bas-bleu ? It seems mighty impertinent in me 
 to interfere, but you cannot for a moment mistake the 
 motive. I sent what I had copied by the Duchess. 4 There 
 are several blanks and, I fear, many blunders ; one in parti- 
 cular I observed when too late to remedy. I hope it won't 
 be too ridiculous. After the two friends leave Leoni and 
 Philiberto together what followed was so blurred and 
 blotted that I mistook and made them fall to their prayers, 
 but as I presume they are Papists the error is not so great 
 as if they had been pure Protestants or stiff-necked Presby- 
 terians. I've kept the originals, so if you want a clue to 
 any of the blanks I'll send them ; if not I'll burn them. 
 You may send me as much as you please if you really 
 approve of my copying, but not otherwise, as I promise I 
 shan't be affronted should you dismiss me. I try to imitate 
 your hand as closely as I can, but there's a stiffness in it 
 defys all human pens. I've a mind to enclose you a wee 
 morsel of Lady MacLaughlan, though I think the dinner 
 scene is carried too far, but I write down everything that 
 folly suggests at first and leave it to reason to abridge it 
 afterwards. Would Mamie 5 deign to read it ? If so 
 
 1 Robert Campbell of Skipness, was frequently at Inveraray Castle, 
 co. Argyll. (J. F.) where Miss Ferrier met him. He wrote 
 
 2 One would infer from this that several poems in her album. (J. F.) 
 the book under discussion was one in 4 The Duchess of Argyll. (J. F.) 
 which Miss Clavering was engaged 5 Mademoiselle de la Chaux, gover- 
 with her aunt, Lady Charlotte. Pro- ness in the family of Lady Charlotte 
 bably it was Self-indulgence. (J. F.) Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
 3 The author of The Monk. He 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING'S NOVEL 95 
 
 I'll send the beginning if she'll give me the benefit of her 
 critiques. 
 
 . . . Your love speech is quite beautiful and eloquent 
 and must have come from the heart the head never could 
 produce anything so warm and tender, and I love you all 
 the better for it. My only fault to you is that you've 
 never been in love, but I trust your time is coming, and 
 that you'll live to swell the streams with your tears and 
 shake the trees with your sighs ! How I should doat on 
 you as a love-sick maid ! I long to see the beauteous 
 Rawdon ; l it seems but as yesterday since these aged 
 arms used to hold the crowing babe ! Give my motherly 
 love to him. I suppose he's too big to be kissed now? When 
 do you go to Inveraray ? When does the Duke come to it ? 
 Who's to be there ? How long are you to stay ? Is it to 
 be very gay ? Have you got in your hay ? Answer me 
 quickly by * Yea,' or by ' Nay ' ? And don't let it be in the 
 old way for I declare I never grudge to pay. No more 
 will I say, for this is Sunday. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 And so you vile little spendthrift that you are you 
 have the effrontery to declare that you only wish to be 
 married that you may have the opportunity of squander- 
 ing your husband's substance among your friends and 
 needy acquaintances? A most laudable motive, indeed, 
 for entering into the holy bonds of matrimony. Are you 
 not ashamed to be already plotting the ruin of some honest 
 unsuspecting man, instead of bethinking you of accom- 
 plishing the ends for which matrimony was ordained ? Go, 
 attentively peruse your Prayer-book, ponder well upon its 
 contents, and that you may soon have it in your power to obey 
 its precepts and fulfil the Scriptures is, and shall ever be, my 
 most fervent prayer. None but a saint would sit down to 
 
 1 Rawdon Clavering, her brother. field, and was father of Sir Henry 
 He married Miss Dunbar, of North- Clavering, Bart. (J. F.) 
 
96 MARRIAGE ' CH. ir 
 
 scribble to you in the state I'm in at present, with a head 
 like a mill-stone, eyes like fountains, fingers like horns, 
 and my brain in my pocket-handkerchief in fact, my head 
 feels exactly (as I should suppose) as though it were in 
 labour. I hope you'll therefore prove a skilful accoucheur 
 and be the means of delivering me, and whatever I 
 produce, even though it should be a second Minerva, 
 I promise you shall have it. Apropos of such things, I 
 rejoice to hear your Bantling thrives so well, and is so 
 much improved since I saw it. I always thought there 
 was promise in it, but it wanted a little pruning ; by-the- 
 bye, I hope you've restored the serpent to the third 
 chapter of Genesis. It was unaccountable to me how a 
 person of your wisdom could ever think of ever appro- 
 priating such a notorious fact to yourself; you might just 
 as well have stolen the Regalia and thought to walk the 
 streets unmolested with the Crown of Great Britain on 
 your head. I must be allowed to give my opinion and 
 advice also, because on the success of your works I build 
 all my hopes of fame and fortune. But that you may not 
 impute to me the paltry design of treading on your foot- 
 steps, know that I mean to choose a nobler path, and 
 intend to immortalise myself by giving to the world a 
 work which shall be read when reading is no more ! A 
 work whose fame shall extend from the Taboozamanoo 
 Islands to the last stone of the Mull of Kantyre \sic\ \ A 
 work which shall penetrate to the remotest unknown 
 regions ! A work which, to sum up all, is to contain your 
 life, character, conversation, and correspondence ! ! ! I only 
 wait till your book shall have gone through seventy-five 
 editions ; you will then either expire with joy or fall a 
 victim to envy ; the world will call loudly for your Life (or 
 remains^ as it is now called) ; I shall be prevailed upon to 
 undertake the painful task at the solicitation of your 
 friends, the request of your acquaintance, the commands 
 of your sovereign, and the prayers of all the world. I 
 shall begin with a biographical sketch of your life, followed 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING'S WORKS 97 
 
 by some account of your writings, interspersed with notes 
 and observations critical and original. To these succeed 
 the editor's preface, and to every edition shall be a new 
 note by the editor. Then begins the correspondence 
 from the age of five years to the day of your death, the 
 whole to conclude with a grand elegiac ode to your 
 memory. I shall have three copies three feet and a half 
 long by two and a quarter broad ; they shall be printed on 
 white velvet (white satin having become so common), and, 
 to suit the solemnity of the subject, every page shall be 
 trimmed with a deep black flounce ! I [[designed one for 
 the Emperor of China, another for the great Cham of 
 Tartary, and the third I shall allow you to suggest the dis- 
 posal of, in case there is any crowned head in particular you 
 may wish to confer it upon. They shall be bound in the 
 hides of your hounds, and surmounted with a plume from 
 the rumps of your peas. 1 Remember me to Lady Augusta 
 and her Foot, which I hope is no longer carried in state. 
 
 Commend me to Miss E unto whom breathe none of 
 
 my murmurs as you value my life, because she is the 
 bosom friend of the Pot of Honey. I've got nothing done 
 nor even imagined since we parted, and I know not when 
 I shall, ill-fated woman that I be ! I find I unintentionally 
 carried off the first chapter, but you shall have it again 
 whenever you please. 
 
 I shall write no more, 
 
 For my eyes are sore, 
 
 And my heart is tore, 
 
 With rage I could roar ; 
 
 But I must only snore. 
 
 So good night, as I said before. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Edinburgh : May 26, 1810. 
 
 I hope you won't set me down as stark staring mad, 
 for I assure you, in spite of appearances, I'm only a wee 
 daft and just wanted to divert myself, and I know I'd be 
 
 1 Pea-fowl. 
 
 H 
 
98 'MARRIAGE' CH. n 
 
 safe with you, for you're a good dear and won't make a 
 fool of me for a good reason, you'll say, because it's done 
 to your hand. But seriously and truly I think you have 
 just as much malice in you as would make you think it 
 fine fun to show what an old goose-cap I am ; but I give 
 you warning, if ever you show a single line of mine to 
 any man, woman, or child, I'm done with you for ever and 
 ever ; so if you want to get rid of me there's a genteel 
 opening for you. I've been languishing to write to you 
 this age, but I've had such a fulness of blood about my 
 head and chest that I thought I was going to break a 
 blood-vessel, and so dared not put pen to paper and 
 that's the true cause of this long cessation. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VER1NG 
 
 ... I send you your gown, which I hope you'll 
 approve of. It came to i/. $s., and gave the account to my 
 brother and have got my monies. I sent a yard more, as it 
 wasn't for a lady ; by-the-bye, you should have told me 
 what kind of a person it was for, as there's some sizes 
 between fat Fanny and Miss Wynne. I see Mrs. Robert 
 has got a third son. 1 I saw her walking with her lord, 
 and she just came up to his knee, and so I thought he had 
 got a monstrous swelled leg, till I drew near and discovered 
 that it was his rib ! I met Betsy, 2 too, one day a fine 
 thing in a salmon-coloured suit came galloping up and 
 made an awkward kind of a speak, and so I made a cold 
 reply, and we parted, never to speak again, I suppose. 
 The Misses Mure came and dined with me one day in 
 my cot, and we talked of you, and we all three agreed 
 that you are the most 3 in the world 4 ; so take that, 
 
 1 Mrs. Campbell, of Skipness, co. 4 Perhaps it was after this that 
 Argyll (nee Wynne). She was called Miss Mure wrote to Miss Clavering : 
 *the Pocket Venus.' (J. F.) 'I dined with Susan Ferrier two days 
 
 2 Elizabeth Campbell, of Shawfield ago. I believe she was somewhat 
 (Mrs. Thriepland). (J. F.) piqued at a letter you wrote her some 
 
 3 A blank. (J. F.) time ago, but has always talked of 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING AND LITERARY SCHEMES 99 
 
 Miss. I like them vastly, and am very sorry I don't see 
 them oftener. Bessie told me Lady A. 1 was going into 
 the Lions' Den at Hamilton. 2 Is that so ? And are you, 
 sweet Doo, to be left bird alane ? Oh ! that I could make 
 unto myself wings and fly ! Pray write to me post haste 
 and tell me everything, for 'tis an age since I heard from 
 you and Elfin ! . . . 
 
 When am I to be blest with the book ? You might 
 easily send it by the coach, and I'll ensure its safety for the 
 price you put upon it, if a price it has. How did you like 
 the family ? My head aches and I'm sure so may yours by 
 this time, so farewell, my pretty. Pray write to your faith- 
 ful and affectionate friend, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Wednesday evening. 
 
 I am at the greatest possible pains to furnish you with 
 an abridgment of my brain in order to save you double 
 postage when, just as I had finished by letter, my brother 
 sent me a frank big enough to carry a folio. Tis well for 
 you that I did not know of it sooner, for, as I'm in a 
 scribbling mood, there's no saying where I might have 
 stopped had not the form of sevenpence held my hand. 
 However, I am overflowing with spite, and you need not 
 wonder should my gall show itself soon on a new sheet of 
 paper. Meantime, I charge you on your allegiance here- 
 with to assume the form of a letter and transport yourself 
 into my presence. 'Tis very hard, methinks, that serpents 
 and skeletons should have more of your company than 
 what I have, but, I suppose, were I a snake or a spectre 
 I'd be prettily courted ; but let me tell you flesh and blood 
 
 replying. Perhaps she waits till her very well.' (J. F.) 
 
 choler cools ; she tells me she is very * Lady Augusta Clavering. (J. F. ) 
 
 cholerick and proud ; perhaps she is 2 Hamilton palace. The Lions' 
 
 like all the family, who are always Den alludes to the celebrated Rubens 
 
 busy supporting their dignity . . . there, ' Daniel in the Lions' Den.' 
 
 She is very civil to me and I like her (J. F.) 
 
 H 2 
 
IOO ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 won't bear this, as I'm cast off by Lady Charlotte, aban- 
 doned by Mamselle. La Chaux and treated with con- 
 tumely by Miss Clavering, but I'll be revenged of you. 
 I shall write a book to which yours shall bear the same 
 proportion as Joe Miller to Mrs. Radcliffe. You have but 
 one serpent ; / shall have nine. Yours can only speak 
 (which they could do in the days of Adam) ; mine shall 
 sing and play on the harp, and waltz. You measure out 
 blood (like laudanum) in drops, but I shall dispense it 
 like the shower-bath ! I but I shall say no more lest 
 you burst with envy at my superior genius, and thereby 
 deprive me of the satisfaction of seeing you pine a slow 
 death at my unrivalled success. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 Deign, Madam, to withdraw your lofty eyes for a while 
 from the flowered chintz of Lady MacLaughlan, and fix them 
 upon the enclosed patterns of silk, with the prices (oh ! 
 vulgar sound) thereto affixed, while I (oh! degradation 
 unparalleled in the annals of novel writing) must descend 
 from the sublime region of fiction to the back of a 
 counter ! How shall I ever be able to clothe this vulgar 
 translation in elegant language, or where find terms to 
 commune (as one author ought to commune with another) 
 upon the price of sarcenet, and the width of lutestring ? Let 
 me try. That whose hue doth emulate the rose, and on its 
 surface smooth doth bear the stars of heaven impressed by 
 heaven's skill, doth on the top shelf of a little shop lan- 
 guish amidst dusty duffells, in which the village dame 
 arrayed to church or market hies, and fustian strong, in which 
 for thrift clad by wise parents is the wanton schoolboy, and 
 hard and obdurate, rattling in form of petticoat against the 
 bare legs of country girl, and broad cloth, drab and blue, 
 of which the careful farmer, after much conning and prudent 
 confab with his dame and neighbours all, doth chuse his 
 
CH. IT SUGGESTIONS FOR 'MARRIAGE' IOI 
 
 Sunday's coat. And flannels, Welsh of smell most potent, 
 in which the rheumy Granam seeks to shroud her shrivelled 
 limbs. All these and many more my muse could sing do 
 with that starry robe abide. Six times the length of thy 
 finger is its breadth, by some three-quarters called ; silver 
 seven times told, by vulgar called seven shillings, the price 
 of each fair yard. Turn we now to where the various hues, 
 such as of painted rainbow, doth delight the roving eye of 
 fickle youth. There's pink, denoting pride and vanity ; and 
 straw-colour, mocking the hue of pining maid ; and purple, 
 by some styled the light of love ; and buff, symbolic of our 
 happy state of nature ; and white, emblem of virgin inno- 
 cence. All these may then be thine for slips or linings, 
 stout and warm, for twelve times four of pence, formed of 
 base brass, and stamped with Britain's power triumphant 
 and monarch's head with laurel bound. And now to paint 
 the lilac I essay. Pride of the spring, welcome thy blossoms 
 fair and odoriferous ! But fairer still to sight of youthful 
 fair when by the Indian artist's cunning hand thy beauties 
 are with green and gold inwove and stripes of silvery white. 
 This in the coffers of a dame doth dwell, whose niggard 
 hand doth only draw it forth for love of sordid lucre ; its 
 extent doth much surpass thy utmost wishes, but she 
 swears no shears shall e'er sever it in twain so long as she 
 doth own it. Seven yards, eke an' half, it owns, and for each 
 yard this flinty female doth demand ten shillings good and 
 bright. . . . But enough of bathos. I wish there was not 
 quite so much pathos in the price of that lilac silk, for I 
 think it would suit you vastly, it belongs to a member of 
 my brother-in-law's family, and I've been straining every 
 nerve to get her to part with it for love or lucre, instead of 
 which the vile copper-hearted creature has the conscience to 
 ask ten shillings a yard for seven yards and a half, which 
 would be a useless quantity, as it is too much for one dress and 
 not enough for two. I said I would send you the pattern, 
 but I didn't suppose you would care to give so much, upon 
 which the Jew said it didn't signify. I don't know what's 
 
iO2 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 doing about the plain one, as Mrs. Kinloch is at Brighton 
 at present, but in the last letter I had from her she said 
 she had some hope of being able to procure a figured one, 
 but was not certain, so I don't advise you to have anything 
 to do with this, as I think it shamefully dear. My sister, 
 Mrs. Graham, got some of the same from a good woman 
 of the family, rest her bones ! and I believe she gave 
 hers to Lady Charlotte, but this hunks has no idea of 
 giving. 
 
 I approve highly of christening each chapter, but I 
 think we'd as well motto them afterwards. Which of the 
 heroines is to be Constance ? The good girl or the bad ? 
 Call them what you will. Apropos, don't you think 
 Monteith would be a better family name than Douglas ? 
 The second chapter should open with some history of the 
 family, as one is brought quite slapdash into it without 
 knowing anything about them ; not but what I think 
 people should always speak for themselves in books, but it 
 may be proper to tell that the mother died when they were 
 all young, and that the laird had got his sisters to super- 
 intend his family &c. What think you ? . . . I waste my 
 whole time and substance in scribbling to you, but I'm 
 determined to turn over a new leaf, mistress, and not put 
 pen to paper to you for a month to come, or at least not till 
 I've heard three times from you, and until you've told me 
 something to make amends for your secrecy. You go and 
 gossip with Bessie Mure, and tell her everything that opens 
 and shuts, and I suppose your whole kin may be dead or 
 married before you'd think proper to let me hear a word of 
 the matter. Go, go, you bad girl, you deserve to be put in 
 a dark closet ; but if you'll promise to be good I'll forgive 
 you, so kiss and be friends, and there's a pockethandkerchief 
 for you to wipe your eyes with, and hem it neatly, and put 
 a loop to it and wear it at your side, and every time you 
 blow your nose you'll become better and better ; by the time 
 it's dirty you'll be quite perfect. Adieu, my dearest. 
 
CH. ii RECEPTION OF 'MARRIAGE' IO3 
 
 MISS CLA VERING TO S. E. F. 
 Postmark 1810. Ardencaple Castle l : Sunday morning. 
 
 I am so charmed with you in every possible way, that 
 I should have written you so every day, had I not thought 
 on what you were to pay, which, though a mean idea, you'll 
 say is one very proper to be considered in this world of 
 straits and difficulties. The moment Lord John comes 
 letters shall pour upon you in bushels. First of all, I must 
 tell you that I approve in the most signal manner of * Lady 
 McLaughlan.' The sort of character was totally unex- 
 pected by me, and I was really quite transported with her. 
 Do I know the person who is the original ? The dress 
 was vastly like Mrs. Darner, 2 and the manners like Lady 
 Frederick, 3 tell me if you did not mean a touch at her. I 
 love poor Sir Samson vastly, though it is impossible in the 
 presence of his lady to have eyes or ears for anyone else. 
 Her kissing Lady Juliana and holding her at arm's length 
 is capital. Now you must not think of altering her, and 
 it must all go forth in the world ; neither must the Missies 
 upon any account be changed. I have a way now of at 
 least offering it to publication by which you never can 
 be discovered. I will tell the person that I wrote it. 
 (' Indeed, quoth a',' cries Miss Ferrier, 'and no great favour 
 now ; see how she loves to plume herself with borrowed 
 fame.') Well, however, my way is quite sure, and the 
 person would never think of speaking of it again ; so 
 never let the idea of detection come across your brain 
 while you are writing to damp your ardour. Positively 
 neither Sir Samson's lady nor the ' foolish virgins ' must 
 be displaced. I don't propose to compose anything just 
 
 1 Near Helensburgh, where Miss the supposed original or part-original 
 Clavering lived with her mother, of Lady MacLaughlan was the child 
 Lady Augusta Clavering. (J. F. ) who was a petted visitor of Horace 
 
 2 Her cousin, the celebrated sculp- Walpole, the daughter of the Eton 
 tor, and friend and also cousin of friend to whom he clung through life 
 Horace Walpole, to whom he left with such loyal affection. 
 Strawberry Hill. (J. F.) It is like 3 Wife of Lord Frederick Campbell, 
 meeting a familiar friend unexpectedly and widow of the ill-fated Lord 
 in a strange country to remember that Ferrers. (J. F. ) 
 
104 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 now till you send me some more of Lady MacLaughlan, 
 and when you do I must repeat that you are to let me 
 know exactly when and where you want me to add a little 
 of my babbles, though I don't expect to shine till you 
 come to the killing of the people. Now I think on't, I 
 am quite ashamed of what I sent you, but there is no 
 helping it, and you can always leave it out, that's my only 
 comfort. Constance I intended should be the name of the 
 good girl, and let Matilda remain as she was. Monteith 
 is a very good name, but I'm not sure that I like it better 
 than Douglas ; however, it signifies not a great deal. I 
 was thinking that I had seen the name of Alvanley 1 in some 
 beggarly book, so we must have another. I had a nice 
 one in my head yesterday, and I've forgot it to-day. You 
 would make a delightful auctioneer. Christie would be a 
 joke to you. Never did I see goods set off in such a 
 brilliant manner. What a pity you have such a stupid 
 correspondent as I I have often thought it very odd that 
 a person of your wit should take up with such a dull person 
 as Miss Clavering. It certainly says a great deal for your 
 heart that you should like a person through thick and thin 
 through all the thickness of their brains, and thinness of 
 their understanding. Well, to fly from the lining of the 
 skull to the covering of the body. You will do me the 
 favour if you please, Ma'am, to buy me seventeen yards of 
 the crimson starry mantle. I suppose you think I am going 
 to make a sack with five and fifty flounces and six yards in 
 circumference. No, Madam, I want eleven yards for my- 
 self, out of which I am making two gowns one for myself 
 and one for a compliment and the remaining six yards 
 are for Miss Annie Mure, who wishes to purchase the 
 same. All this, provided there be seventeen yards of it, 
 which I don't at all consider a certainty. If there is not 
 such a quantity I must just have the eleven yards, and 
 I will send you the money as soon as ever I can get a 
 
 1 It may be presumed that this was the name of Alvanley is to be found 
 
 to be the title of the stupid Duke. in that ' beggarly book ' the Peerage. 
 
 It seems strange that Miss Claver- Altamont, with all its stage associa- 
 
 ing should not have remembered that tions, was hardly a happy choice. 
 
CH. ii LETTER TO MISS CLAVERTNG 105 
 
 frank, which will be in a few days, as Lord John is to be 
 at Glasgow to-day, if his skull does not prevent him. The 
 lilac is transcendent, but my purse says nay, and I am 
 such a discreet crater that I'm never carried away with 
 the vanity of the eye. I recognised it to be the same 
 Lady Charlotte had. I am doatingly fond of the price of 
 the lutestrings, and think I must have a sixteen-shilling 
 go of the white one if it is f wide. If it is narrower I mun 
 hae mair, and if it is wider less, but I don't think 'twill be 
 wider that will be 4/. 1 3 s. I shall owe you besides two 
 guineas for Miss Mure's red silk, if you can get the quantity 
 always bien entendu. It is really shocking to be bodering 
 you about such troublesome concerns, but really such 
 good-humoured people as you are always taken advantage 
 of in this wicked world. I assure you you wrong me by 
 saying I gossip things with Bessie Mure that I withhold 
 from you. I had heard of the Duke's marriage some time 
 ago, and was desired not to speak of it ; and it was not 
 till, by the currency of the report, Bessy wrote it to me 
 that I ever let on that I knew anything of it My other 
 reasons for not talking of it you know already. However, 
 one must hope the best, and whenever I find a number of 
 fine qualities in my ' Lady Duchess ' I shall write about it 
 to you. I think for the present I have nothing more to 
 add than that I am always, with many thanks for the pretty 
 painted muckinger, 1 
 
 Your most affectionate friend, 
 
 C. C. 
 
 Let me have the continuation of Lady MacLaughlan 
 directly. How am I to get those beautiful delicious 
 silks when you have bought them ? 
 
 MISS CLA VERING TO S. E. F. 
 
 Sundridge, 2 Inveraray : December 10, 1810. 
 
 And now, dear Susannah, I must tell you of the success 
 
 1 A handkerchief, spelt Muckender House of Lords as Baron Sundridge. 
 in Bailey's Dictionary. (J. F. ) The letter was franked ' Sundridge ' 
 
 2 The Duke of Argyll sits in the on the cover. (J. F. ) 
 
io6 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 of your first born. I read it to Lady Charlotte in the 
 carriage when she and I came together from Ardencaple, 
 Bessie having gone with Mamma. If you believe I never 
 yet in my existence saw Lady C. laugh so much as 
 she did at that from beginning to end ; seriously I was two 
 or three times alarmed that she would fall into a fit. Her 
 very words were, ' I assure you I think it without the 
 least exception the cleverest thing of the kind that ever 
 was written, far surpassing Fielding ' ; then she said, that as 
 to our other books, that they would all sink to nothingness 
 before yours ; that they were not fit to mention in the 
 same day, and that she felt quite discouraged from writing 
 when she thought of yours. The whole conversation of 
 the Aunties made her screech with laughing, and, in short, 
 I can neither record nor describe all that she said ; far 
 from exaggerating it, I don't say half enough ; but I only 
 wish you had seen the effect it produced. I am sure you 
 will be the first author of the age. The Duke bids me 
 to tell you to say to your father that he has received 
 his letter and will answer it in a few days, and, in the 
 meantime, he will be very happy to see him and you at 
 Inveraray. If Lady Charlotte puts her plan in execution 
 of taking me to London I am afraid I shall miss seeing 
 you, which will be a very great disappointment to me. How- 
 ever, Mamma has not been asked yet, and I look forward 
 with dread to the feuds it will occasion. We never see the 
 Duchess * except in the evening, for these two are philan- 
 dering all morning together far from taking upon her to do 
 the honours of the house, she labours to appear to have no 
 more to do with it than I. She is vastly sweet and gentle, but 
 desperate shy. I dare say I shall like her vastly well when 
 we are better acquainted. Her two children are very nice 
 
 1 Caroline, daughter of the Earl of Duchess, but can find nothing worse 
 
 Jersey, married first Lord Paget, to say than to quote a description 
 
 which marriage was dissolved 1810. of her by her sister-in-law, which 
 
 She married in the same year the Duke tallies with Miss Clavering's. * Elle 
 
 of Argyll. (J. F.) That scurrilous est jolie comme une fleur, aimante 
 
 writer, Eaton Stannard Barrett, in comme une tourterelle, et paisible 
 
 Six Weeks at Long's, attacks the comme le sommeil.' 
 
CH. ii PROJECTS FOR ' MARRIAGE ' IO/ 
 
 creatures the eldest pretty and like herself. 1 I never 
 saw anybody appear so fond of another as she does of 
 him ; she sits for hours gazing on him with fixed eyes. 
 I do not think Lady Charlotte is strong ; her cold, how- 
 ever, is better. I wish she could stay here a little longer 
 to recruit her health, but she will not hear of it. Tell me if 
 you want to have the whole of your novel together, and I will 
 send it ? Do go on with it as fast as you can. I am 
 sitting for my picture, and, though you may not believe it, 
 Bessie and I have been squabbling about it ; she says she is 
 to keep it herself, but has made me a promise to copy it 
 for you. I don't suppose she will have time, however, to 
 do it here, as she intends painting a head of Lady Charlotte. 
 I should like to see her do one of her Grace, for I do think 
 she is beautiful. 
 
 Well no more at present from your humble servant and 
 affectionate friend, 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 How fares the Savage? Give him my tenderest 
 love. 
 
 MISS CLA VERING TO S. E. F. 
 
 J. D. Campbell, 2 London. 
 April 2, 1811. Cadogan Place : Sunday. 
 
 For these two days I have been more particularly 
 thinking of writing to you, my dear friend, and have been 
 racking my brains to compose a well turned and new 
 excuse. At least I think of one which must, unless you 
 are the most unreasonable person in the world, entirely 
 satisfy you. Not writing to one's dear friend is generally 
 reckoned a proof of not thinking of her, but you will, I am 
 sure, acknowledge it to be a venial trespass when I declare 
 that you are then more constantly in my thoughts, and 
 your merits more present to my fancy, than at any other 
 
 1 Lady Caroline Paget, afterwards 2 Lord John Douglas Campbell 
 Duchess of Richmond. (J. F.) He franked this letter. (J. F.) 
 
io8 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. .II 
 
 time. I am then continually haunted with the idea of 
 your wrongs. Everything you have done for me rises up 
 in judgment before my contrite spirit. I long for your 
 letters, and yet cannot hope or expect them. I will say 
 no more on this subject except the assurance that my 
 heart is perfectly unchanged, if that can give you the least 
 satisfaction, and upon the strength of that you ought to 
 make allowance for me, and putting yourself in the same 
 situation as me, and taking upon yourself the same 
 infirmities of character, I think you will not find me so 
 much to blame. I have not, and am afraid never shall 
 acquire, that energy of character to make me snatch stray 
 moments of time, and dragging my mind from its foolish 
 pursuits set it down at a chance time in quite a different 
 mood. This incapability has been very much increased by 
 always living in the country, where the happiness of having 
 much longer portions of time at my own disposal, without 
 any jarring pursuits coming across me, has given me a 
 lazy habit of mind, which incapacitates me from abstracting 
 my mind at a minute's warning. This is an infirmity of 
 my nature for which I am more to be pitied than blamed ; 
 which, when added to my having very little time and (from 
 my poverty) a great deal to do with my ten fingers, makes, 
 I hope, my transgression less. I candidly confess that I 
 have not a correspondent that I have not treated in the 
 same way ; moreover, I've scarce opened a book since I 
 came, and, above all, I enjoy life very little. I am very 
 thin and very ugly, which mortifies me, I confess, a good 
 deal. 1 I therefore study to make myself fat by all sorts of 
 laziness and indulgence, such as lying in bed like a very 
 
 1 Kirkpatrick Sharpe, fastidious he banters his friend, Henry Adams, 
 and fault-finding in female beauty as about his devotion to ' his charming 
 in other things, writes : ' Miss Pastora,' as he calls Miss Clavering. 
 Clavering strikes me as being pretty, (Letters, vol. i. p. 559 ; vol. ii. p. 13. ) 
 but nothing more, for she hath got Her beauty is vouched for not only by 
 tender eyes and no flesh to cover her her portrait, but by what may be con- 
 nakedness. She is a sort of ghost of sidered most unimpeachable authority, 
 Lady Charlotte, dead of aconsumption, that of a mother-in-law much attached 
 and much compressed by whipping to her son. Mrs. Fletcher, in her 
 through the key-hole.' Nevertheless Atitobiography (Ed. 1875, p. 132), 
 
CH. ii PARTY AT LORD ABERCORN'S 1 09 
 
 London lady, sleeping after dinner. We have no carriage, 
 so depend upon our toes for a walk, which takes up a good 
 deal of time, as we are so dreadfully out of the way. This 
 is acted every day of our lives as the weather is so ex- 
 quisite. Another thing which swallows up a good deal 
 of time is our visits to Lord Abercorn in the country. 1 
 We have been three times there, and as there is always a 
 great deal of company one's days are necessarily devoted 
 to idleness. I went there yesterday week and did not 
 return till Thursday last. There was a great christening 
 of Lord Abercorn's grandson, 2 at which there was a 
 gathering of all the old women in the kingdom. Lady 
 Hamilton, mother of the child, is a very beautiful young 
 creature, only eighteen ; her husband is a poor sick looking 
 bird, but seems to adore her. My favourite in the family 
 is Lady Maria Hamilton, Lord A.'s daughter. She is a 
 most charming amiable woman, very uncommon and odd. 
 She is reckoned the most completely amiable and moral 
 character that can exist. Certainly the Priory must have 
 been very much wronged in its time as being filled with 
 dissolute company, for both Lady Maria and Lady 
 Aberdeen were brought up there, and I don't believe there 
 are two such rigidly proper and strictly virtuous women to 
 be found in the three kingdoms. I once wrote to Bessie 
 Mure some account of Miss Owenson, 3 who has been 
 living there these three months. Did she ever tell you 
 anything about her? I've had rather a surfeit of her, so I 
 don't feel as if you cared to know anything about her. 
 However, I cannot in honour pass her over entirely. First, 
 to speak of her merits, she is perfectly different from what I 
 had fancied her from her works. She hardly ever talks 
 sentiment, and \\zr forte is the foldtre grace. Though vain 
 
 speaks of Miles Fletcher bringing says, * saw any living thing so deadly, 
 
 home ' his very lovely bride. ' She also so pale, emaciated, and unearthly. ' 
 
 gives (p. 203) a very touching descrip- * At Bentley Priory, Stanmore. 
 
 tion of her daughter-in-law's composed (J. F.) 
 
 courage at the time of Miles Fletcher's 2 The late Duke of Abercorn, 
 
 death, when she thought that her own (J. F. ) 
 
 mind was in danger. 'I never,' she 3 Lady Morgan afterwards. (J. F.) 
 
110 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 of her works and fond of talking of herself, I don't think her 
 affected. She is extremely good-humoured, likes to talk 
 nonsense, loves to have men quiz her, and is never affronted 
 at being laughed at. Indeed I think her sensibly good- 
 humoured, for I take fools upon an average to be cross and 
 touchy. She does anything to make society agreeable, 
 always ready to dance, play, or sing, none of which she 
 does well. She is, I believe, a very good-hearted, amiable 
 person, very kind to her relations, and I expected she 
 would speak nothing but Greek and Latin ; instead she 
 never obtrudes pedantry upon one and never speaks of 
 wise things, which is quite proper, as I take it she does not 
 understand them the least. She has not a better head 
 than thousands of people who never thought of writing a 
 novel. As for her person, I thought her pretty at first, and 
 now I think her frightful. She has a great general look of 
 Mrs. Robert Campbell, and I don't believe is above an 
 inch taller a great deal fairer, and her eyes would be 
 very pretty if they did not squint a faire dresser les cheveux. 
 Her figure is not the better of being obtrusively crooked, 
 and her head is ornamented with a frightfully ill-cut crop ; 
 and now I will dismiss the subject. I'll tell you who I 
 have fallen desperately in love with Lady Harriet Leveson. 
 She was a daughter of the Duke of Devonshire, and was 
 lately married to Lord Granville Leveson-Gower. 1 This 
 passion of mine is amazingly strong, though I have only 
 met with her three times. The first night I was introduced 
 to her I was in such a state of distraction of mind that 
 I did not know whether I was standing on my head or my 
 heels. I was to have gone to a ball at the Duchess of 
 Gordon's, but as we went first to a party at the Princess's, 2 
 Lady Charlotte could not go, and so she insisted upon 
 sending me from Kensington. . . . Lord John intends to 
 depart for Hampshire in a fortnight, and takes me to 
 
 1 Miss Clavering's opinion agrees 2 The Princess of Wales. Lady 
 with a universal social tradition, fully Charlotte Campbell was in her house- 
 borne out by the recent publication of hold. (J. F. ) 
 Lady Granville's letters. 
 
CH. ii INVITATION TO ARDENCAPLE III 
 
 Southampton. After staying there some time we go 
 straight to Scotland, so I think I shall see you in less than 
 a month from this time, which idea, believe me, gives me 
 more pleasure than my engagement in London. I have 
 never been able to call on Mrs. Kinloch ; first, because 
 Lady Charlotte has no carriage, so that when we go out 
 to walk it is for the good of our health, and we don't go 
 into town at all, but walk for air and exercise in the park. 
 I have only been twice in Lady Clavering's l house since I 
 came. Mrs. Kinloch came to see us yesterday morning, 
 and I was really happy to see her ; she looked very well 
 and put me very much in mind of you. She told me you 
 were rather angry at my not writing, but I hope this letter 
 will, not that it deserves it from its own merits, but hopes it 
 from your clemency, and in this trust believe me most truly 
 Your sincerely affectionate friend, 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 FROM LORD JOHN CAMPBELL TO JAMES FERRIER, ESQ. 
 
 Ardencaple : October 16, 1812. 
 
 My dear Sir, Although I would by no means have 
 given you the trouble of coming so far as Inveraray upon 
 account of my election, yet if you would come for the sake of 
 the ball, and bring Miss Ferrier with you, it would give us 
 all much pleasure. If you consent to this, send me a line 
 directed to Inveraray, where I go on Sunday, and I will 
 prepare* rooms for you in the Castle. 
 
 I am, yours very sincerely, 
 
 J. D. CAMPBELL. 
 
 MISS CLA VERING TO S. E. F. 
 
 By well Hall 2 : December 20 [1812 ?] 
 
 My dear Friend, I was sorry for the anxiety that 
 stopped your lucubrations so suddenly that I hope by this 
 
 1 Daughter of John cle Gallais (J. F.) 
 
 Count de la Sable of Anjou, married, 2 Where her uncle, Mr. Charles 
 
 1791, Sir Thomas Clavering, Bart. Clavering, lived in Northumberland. 
 
112 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 time your father has recovered ; you know that, painful as 
 the gout is, it secures from all other disorders, and is hardly 
 ever a dangerous thing. I should like to get a word from 
 you to say that you are relieved from your anxieties ; if 
 you write immediately I should get your letter, as I don't 
 expect to leave this till the end of the week. The last 
 time I heard from Lord John he told me that his business 
 would be concluded as yesterday, but that, as Lord 
 Frederick l had invited him to Coombank, 2 he did not think 
 it proper to offend the old gentleman by a refusal, there- 
 fore he will delay his departure for three or five days ; but 
 he is to write again to tell me the day. Do you not 
 remember you said he would not be back till July ! ! I had 
 an immense packet from Lady C. the other day, which 
 I confess rather disappointed me, for I expected volumes 
 of new compositions, and on opening it what should it 
 prove but your book returned, so I shall keep it safe till I 
 see you. She was profuse in its praises, and so was 
 Mamie, 3 who said she was particularly taken with Lady 
 Juliana's brother, he was so like the Duke. 4 Lady C. 
 said she had read it all deliberately and critically, and 
 pronounced it capital, with a dash under it. Lady C. 
 begs that in your enumerations of Lady Olivia's pecca- 
 dilloes you will omit waltzes. I back the request, and 
 agree with her in thinking that people will immediately 
 say she wrote it, and was Quixotising her own character. 
 You may say she danced quadrilles in London if you 
 choose. There were quadrilles, otherwise called cotillons 
 formed entirely of married women of quality, in London 
 when I was there. A few days after, I got another parcel, 
 five times as big, and was all on the alert to open it, when, 
 to my infinite mortification, what should present itself but 
 ' Self-indulgence ! ! ' 5 She wrote me that Mrs. Darner had 
 
 Another letter, p. 2 51, "shows that to Lady Charlotte's children. (J. F.) 
 
 Miss Clavering was there in December 4 George, sixth Duke of Argyll. 
 
 1812. (J. F.) (J. F.) 
 
 1 His uncle. (J. F.) 5 A novel by Lady C. Campbell. 
 
 2 In Kent. (J. F.) It is of this book that Kirkpatrick 
 
 3 Mile, de la Chaux, Governess Sharpe, writing to Miss Mure says 
 
CH. ii LETTER FROM MISS CLAVERING 113 
 
 charged her with the fact of being its mother, had begged 
 and entreated that she would correct its inaccuracies to 
 make it fit for a second edition, which she declared would 
 soon be called for, and made her sit down and read it out 
 in a slow audible voice, marking with a pencil where it 
 should be corrected and amended. Well, then, this copy 
 Lady C. sends me to make the alterations . . . but I 
 don't mind so much, as I am not obliged to look out for 
 faults but those that are marked with a pencil . . . Who 
 do you think we expect to-day ? No less a personage than 
 Rawdon. 1 I am going away to meet him as soon as I am 
 done scribbling. I have not written a syllable of composi- 
 tion since I came here. At first I used to work, and Miss 
 Adair read to me ; so now we have no reading, as we have 
 a visitor in the house, with whom I sit from morning till 
 night, and never leave her for an instant. I don't mean 
 that I sit with my hands before me, but yet she makes me 
 dawdle a little, and I have not a moment to read or write. 
 During the time I did read I am sorry to say it was 
 nothing but nonsense. I have been purifying my mind 
 with Beaumont and Fletcher's plays. They are not so 
 harmonious in versification as Massinger, less absurd and 
 inconsistent in plan and character, though enough so, and 
 pre.tty near as improper. The play of ' Philaster ' is very 
 beautiful, and there's many other pretty things, and some 
 funny ones. I am improved a little in seal manufacturings, 
 but I have not been able to procure more than five or six 
 impressions. I am charming well again, as the man says 
 in the caricature. I have not been in such glorious health 
 and spirits since I was a little girl. I hope I shall not lose 
 the latter, but they are very slippery untenable goods . . . 
 I am going to trouble you with a very impertinent concern, 
 but necessity forces me. Will you ask Mr. John Ferrier 
 to send me ten of Lady Augusta Clavering's good pounds 
 
 (vol. ii. p. 45): 'I have read your hath been attributed.' (J. F.) 
 novel, or Miss Clavering's, or Lady ' Her brother, Rawdon Clavering. 
 
 Charlotte's, for to all these ladies it (J. F.) 
 
ii4 'MARRIAGE' CH..H 
 
 sterling ? She told me I might draw on her, and I could 
 not bear writing to him ; it looks so impertinent to say to 
 anybody give me some money, and I have nothing more 
 to say to you. Good-bye. Will you send them me directly, 
 that I may get them before I leave this place ? You can 
 ask Bessie to get me a frank from Mr. Drummond. Adieu, 
 my dear Susan, 
 
 Believe me your most affectionate 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 MISS CLA VERING TO S. E. F. 
 
 May 10, 1813. 
 
 My dear Susan, I received the box only yesterday, 
 yet, strange as it may appear, and contrary to my natural 
 ferocity, I did not feel one emotion of the rage which you 
 seem to lay your account of. Indeed I never suspected 
 that the fault or the misfortune lay with you, but attributed 
 it to delays of the carriers. I, at least, sent word to the inn- 
 keeperess at Dumbarton to deliver up my property if she 
 had it, and the box forthwith made its appearance. I like 
 the bonnet very much, and am exceedingly obliged to you 
 for the seals. They were perfect, except two that were 
 cracked through and through, and those luckily I had 
 before the Dumbarton Castle one and the warrior. You 
 quiz me monstrously about my party-coloured garments, 
 but I am not quite so bad as you imagine, as the article 
 which was to be allied to the lustre you sent is of the 
 same colour, only with stripes of pink intermixed. I am 
 distressed to the utmost degree, and my feelings deeply 
 wounded by the immensity of trouble you have had trot- 
 ting after that bonnet for me, and I know not what 
 remuneration to make unto you for your expenditure of 
 time and patience in that cause, not to mention the wear- 
 ing out of your boots, and feel all I can do is to assure you 
 in the name of my head, feet, and hands that they are ever 
 your humble servants to command. We were to have 
 gone to Sir M. Stewart's yesterday, but they were engaged 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING ON 'MARRIAGE' 115 
 
 from home and could not receive us. What put it into 
 your head that I was going to meet my sailor friend there ? l 
 He is Lord Keith's flag-lieutenant, and has been this long 
 time at Plymouth. The ferocity of my nature you 
 have also overrated, when you supposed that I should 
 behold with such fury the mutilation of my MS ; cer- 
 tainly if you had discarded it altogether I had no right 
 or reason to complain, as the story was constructed by 
 you, and I know very well you only suffer my little inter- 
 polations out of good nature not wholly to discard my 
 labours from the concern, having been intended to be a 
 joint one. You need not be afraid but what I shall think 
 your alterations always improvements, and I had a 
 thousand times rather copy out your works than my own. 2 
 As to the part in which you wish to have Lady Ju set up 
 against the duchess, I think there is no need of much of 
 that, because it can bring about no event and will not 
 further display Lady Ju's character, that the vol. will be 
 enormous at any rate, and that the succeeding ones will 
 treat of the daughters. I don't like those high life conver- 
 sations ; they are a sort of thing by consent handed down 
 from generation to generation in novels, but have little or 
 no groundwork in truth ; and the first part of the book 
 will please because the scenes are original in a book and 
 taken from nature. These you now wish to add could at 
 best but amuse by putting one in mind of other novels 
 not by recalling to anybody what they ever saw or heard 
 in real life. What you have written I like very well 
 except the speech of the Duchess of M., which is the 
 style of conversation of duchesses only in novels. Far 
 from giving occasion to describe character, I know nothing 
 more insipid or uniform than fashionable manners and 
 conversation, and to attribute designs to them from their 
 
 1 Her cousin, Lord Napier. retention of a separate heading rather 
 
 2 Miss Clavering's share in the suggests that Miss Ferrier wished to 
 work as it stands is ' The History of see it distinctly ear-marked. 
 
 Mrs. Douglas ' in Chapter XIV. The 
 
 I 2 
 
n6 'MARRIAGE' CH. n 
 
 conduct is ninety-nine times out of a hundred quite a 
 mistake. These polished individuals, smoothed down by 
 continual jostling and propinquity, have not the charac- 
 teristic traits that fit them to be drawn, and a true picture 
 of the fashionable society of London would be very dull. 
 Miss Edgeworth fails in this, even the personages too 
 plainly move a ressorts worked by the author. They go 
 through their evolutions like puppets, and their affectation 
 sits awkwardly on them, and one sees it is done half by 
 guess, half by memory, and greatly by imagination. Will 
 you have patience to hear my other remark, which is that 
 I disapprove very decidedly of Frenchifying Lady Ju's 
 conversation ? It puts me in mind of plays and novels 
 innumerable, though I cannot exactly designate them, and 
 does not the least paint real life to me. It is not, nor has 
 been, I'll answer for it, the least the mode this century (I 
 cannot answer for the last), and it looks more like an affecta- 
 tion in the author than the personage he draws ; then they 
 are always ill spelt, and readers are so ill-natured they 
 would prefer quizzing the author to laying the blame on 
 the printer. Now I have a doubt to propose. Is it allow- 
 able to write of events which must happen at a time yet to 
 come ? Because you lay the mother's history, as I con- 
 jecture, in about this last seven or eight years, then the 
 daughter's history to the end of the book will reach at 
 least nineteen years beyond. This does not shock me in 
 the least, but I don't know what other people might say to 
 it, as it has no parallel, and I merely mention it in case it 
 did not strike you. Your conclusion is without the least 
 shadow of doubt immeasurably superior to mine. I don't, 
 however, much like General Cameron being so vulgar, as I 
 had figured him a contrast to Henry's natural relations, a 
 man of the world, and a remarkably well-bred stern officer. 
 He, however, appears so little on the stage that it is no 
 great matter. I agree with you that faz page may have a 
 fine effect in the second volume, and will do much better 
 where one enlarges more. I like the idea of the twin 
 
CH. ii MISS CLAVERING ON 'MARRIAGE* 117 
 
 daughter being worse than her mother she ought to be 
 full of whimsies, and have engrafted on her mother's 
 character more firmness and stamina, which in that style 
 of education will not fail of completing the badness of 
 her disposition, as she will then be deceitful as well as 
 frivolous, passionate as well as humorsome, tyrannical as 
 well as forward, proud and designing as well as vain and 
 affected. I don't see any other way of the amiable cousins 
 escaping the infection, except by making them totally 
 neglected by Lady Ju, and having a capital governess who 
 shall also be by ways of guiding Lady Ju's daughter, who 
 will always have her own ways, and merely pick up a 
 smattering of learning (she may be excessively quick) by 
 fits and starts, for the pleasure of surpassing and eclipsing 
 her cousin. Tell me if you wish me to wait till the first 
 volume is copied out ; or whether you will begin it soon, 
 and whether I am to do any of it ? This is the most 
 diabolical paper to write on, it puts me in a fury ; it is so 
 rough it blunts all the pens, and so greasy that I cannot 
 get my words made intelligible, hang it. I should like 
 amazingly to see that same ' Pride and Prejudice ' which 
 everybody dins my ears with. Hannah ] likes it exces- 
 sively, only she says the heroine's a little vulgar. I should 
 like to have seen Douglas enacted. I dare say Margaret 
 Fletcher 2 would be a famous actress ; indeed, her mother 
 looks as if she was cut out for it. There is nothing in the 
 world I should so much like to do as to act a play, though 
 I am morally convinced I should do it detestably. I don't 
 believe a word about Miss B - starving her brother and 
 sister. Do tell me if you are to have a country house near 
 Edinburgh or not ; you will be wishing by-and-bye to bask 
 in the shade, though at present there's no basking desir- 
 able but upon the hearthrug. The east winds have of late 
 attacked us with greater fury than I ever experienced 
 
 1 Miss Mackenzie, daughter of the brother to Sir Humphry ; Miss 
 * Man of Feeling. ' (J. F. ) Clavering married her brother, Mr. 
 
 a Married afterwards Dr. Davy, Miles Fletcher. (J. F. 
 
n8 * MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 since I have lived here l ; it is as cold as winter ; we had one 
 warm day and all the rest hurricanes. I am sorry to hear 
 the Duchess's child has vaded away, as they say in Old 
 English. My health has never mended much, only I'm 
 tired swilling camomile tea and sipping antimonial wine, 
 which will not make me sick though I were to go down on 
 my knees to it. I never have an appetite, and I have no 
 other variety but from headaches to squeamishness and 
 back again. I wish you could send me some drugs when 
 Lord John comes down. One of my symptoms is having 
 the blue devils, than which nothing appears to me more 
 proper and reasonable, notwithstanding that I often repeat 
 to myself the words of my beloved poet : 
 
 The moments past, if thou art wise, retrieve 
 With pleasant memory of the bliss they gave. 
 The present hours in present mirth employ, 
 And bribe the future with the hopes of joy. 
 
 You may lay them up in your understanding box for your 
 own use. And now adieu. I hope you will write speedily, 
 and believe me, ever yours entirely, 
 
 C. C. 
 
 Do you wish that I should send payment for the 
 things ? 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 George Street : Saturday, December*5, 1812. 
 
 My dear Janet, I should have written before now to 
 acknowledge the safe arrival of the box of apples, but 
 having nothing but my poor thanks to express I was rather 
 averse to making you pay postage for them, so gladly 
 avail myself of this opportunity of doing it. The apples 
 arrived in the best possible condition, and I have almost 
 lived upon them for the last eight days without seeming to 
 make any diminution in the quantity, which is indeed 
 enormous. I think you must have sent me the whole 
 produce of the garden. There was not above half a dozen 
 
 1 At Ardencaple. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. IT SICKNESS OF KINSFOLK AND FRIENDS 119 
 
 of them spoilt, and the rest were in perfect preservation, 
 and most excellent of their several kinds. I had a visit 
 yesterday from Miss Farquharson to consult me about a 
 cloak, that it seems you have been corresponding about, 
 and whose fate depends on my fiat. She has sent it to me 
 to look at, and I certainly think it so cheap, and she seems 
 so anxious about your taking it, that I have given my 
 assent, so I hope you will not disapprove. I understand 
 there is also a bonnet, but that I have not seen. I was 
 glad to hear, by Miss Morrison's letter, that you are in 
 good health, as I was afraid this dreadful weather would 
 have quite overset you. 
 
 ... I never remember anything half so bad in all the 
 variety of wretchedness which this climate is given to. It 
 is a fortnight to-day since I have been watching a fair 
 opening to get to the old town, but in vain. In that time 
 I have only been able to get out twice, and the streets were 
 in such a pickle that I was splashed up to the shoulders, 
 even on the pavements. The only change we have is from 
 mist to rain and from rain to mist ; our only comfort is 
 that any change must be for the better. I pity those who 
 are obliged to be exposed to such noxious elements. For 
 my part I should think it sinful to repine, having a good 
 comfortable fireside to sit by, and though I feel consider- 
 ably stupefied for want of air and exercise, yet I have 
 every reason to be thankful for the good health I enjoy. . 
 There is a great deal of sickness here at present. I 
 scarce know a family some part of which is not laid up. 
 Archy's children have been very ill of an influenza, but are 
 now well again. She had it, too, she said, but Archy 
 himself escaped and is wonderfully well, walking about 
 as usual, though he still looks thin and pale. Walter has 
 been complaining of rheumatism for some days, but 
 otherwise is better than usual, which is surprising, con- 
 sidering the sedentary and laborious life he leads at the 
 desk from 9 in the morning till 10 at night, with only 
 the intermission of an hour for dinner. I have said 
 
120 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. 
 
 everything that was possible to him on the wickedness of 
 sacrificing himself in that manner, but in vain ; and he 
 is of such an anxious temper, that if he was not busy he 
 would be fretting or pining, which would be still worse. 
 I do not hear a word of news as I see nobody, and am as 
 much out of the world as if I was a hundred miles from a 
 town, instead of living in the heart of one. The only 
 thing in the matrimonial way that has caused any sensation 
 lately was the marriage of a daughter of Dewar's to a son 
 of the Earl of Winter tori s^ She is remarkably pretty and 
 was greatly admired here. . . . Miss Clavering was here 
 for a few days lately with Lord John, on her way to visit 
 her uncle in Northumberland. 2 Lord J. was very ill 
 while here, and she has been dangerously ill since she left 
 this, having carried away with her an Edinburgh cold as a 
 travelling companion, but happily she has got the better of 
 it. I heard from Lady Charlotte t'other day from bed, 
 where she was laid up with a severe cold she had caught 
 in her gardening operations, for she is grown a perfect 
 hedger and ditcher , and works an hour every day in her 
 garden with her own hands, which she thought did her a 
 great deal of good, and in dry weather I dare say it did, 
 but the season is now too far advanced for outdoor work 
 at least for ladies. I hear the fashionable cure for nervous 
 disorders now is Rosemary Tea. Several people here have 
 been recommended to take it ; amongst others, Mr. Jeffrey, 
 the reviewer, who is afflicted with the most violent palpita- 
 tions, and has hitherto tried everything in vain. Annie 
 Mure was smitten with a sort of blindness last summer . . . 
 was blistered, bathed and bled to no purpose ; but the 
 medical people, thinking it must be nervous, ordered her 
 Rosemary tea, and she is now perfectly cured. It should 
 be drunk in place of other tea to breakfast and in the 
 afternoon ; and as the experiment is neither troublesome 
 nor expensive, it is surely worth trying. 
 
 1 Mr. James Dewar, S. Edinburgh. ried Miss Adair, sister of Lady 
 <J. F.) Barrington and aunt of the Miss 
 
 2 Mr. Charles Clavering ; he mar- Adair so often alluded to. (J. F.) 
 
en. ii LETTER TO MISS CLAVERING 121 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLA VERING 
 
 'Twas when the seas were roaring 
 
 With hollow blasts of wind, 
 A damsel sat by the fireside poring 
 
 Till she was almost blind. 
 
 Such is the situation poetical, geographical, atmo- 
 spherical, intellectual, and optical of the damsel who now 
 addresses you ; and these lines, descriptive of her unhappy 
 circumstances, may prove no less instructive to posterity 
 than they are interesting to present times. As I find my 
 correspondence is carefully preserved by you, I flatter 
 myself it is with the view of being one day presented to 
 the public in twelve handsome octavo volumes, embellished 
 with a portrait of the authoress, and enriched with a 
 facsimile of her handwriting. Having this hope before 
 my eyes, I carefully abstain from the vulgar practice of 
 dating my letter, aware how greatly uncertainty adds to 
 interest. 
 
 With regard to this letter, my future biographer will 
 say (for my Life must go along with my head and hand) : 
 1 It has been found impossible to fix any precise date ; all we 
 can ascertain is that it must have been written somewhere 
 in the vicinity of the sea during very tempestuous weather, 
 and we also learn that the author was much addicted to 
 reading by the fireside (probably with her toes on the 
 fender), and that her sight was materially affected by this 
 unremitting attention to her studies. Of the nature of 
 these studies it would be presumptuous to hazard a guess. 
 We certainly cannot deny what has been alleged, that " Jack 
 the Giant Killer " at this time formed a part of her course 
 of reading, but it is not probable a mind such as our author's 
 could take much delight in such scenes of rapine and 
 bloodshed ! ' O me, how wearied I am of walking upon 
 stilts, and how glad I am to get down to my very stocking 
 soles ! I only mounted to try and please you, as you are 
 
122 * MARRIAGE' CH. 11 
 
 not satisfied with me, it seems, in my ordinary dimensions. 
 Forgetting how much Time has bent me with his iron 
 hand, you want me to be as tall and as straight as in the 
 days of my prime ; alas ! my dear Chatty, my mind as 
 well as my body has long been past playing antics, so 
 don't quarrel with me because ' sprightly folly no longer 
 wantons in my lines, and dull serenity becalms my page.' 
 Nobody ever had less to make them gay that had nothing 
 to make them wretched than I have ; if I was thoroughly 
 good I suppose I ought to be excessively happy ; but as 
 Waverley says of your country : 
 
 There's nought in the Highlands but syboes ' and leeks, 
 And lang-legged callants wanting the breeks, &c. 2 
 
 There's nought to be seen here but mountains and heath, 
 And lang-backed lassies wanting the teeth, &c. 
 
 N.B. This is quite matter of fact, except that there is 
 no heath in sight ; and the girls have got bran new buck 
 teeth, which they are always showing, like me ; and as I 
 hate to be imitated, I'm going to have all mine pulled out 
 and a handsome transparency of Mount Vesuvius put in 
 their place. I'm infinitely obliged by your invitation ; this 
 place is quite handy for a trip to Greenock, as there are 
 vessels sailing every day for Liverpool, and from thence I 
 could be at no loss to get myself a berth ; but as I have 
 just half-a-crown in the world, I suppose I would have to 
 work my passage ; seriously, I can only say I would rather 
 be with you than anywhere I know at present. You may 
 well say we have no comfort in each other in town, but 
 from the nature of things it cannot be otherwise, as you 
 have your ways and I have mine ; but in the country we 
 could blend our beings together, and go on vastly well. 
 As to the ' Chiefs of Glenfern ' I shall say nothing till you 
 have read it, and then I shall expect a candid opinion from 
 you. I cannot offer to send it to you, as I have no copy 
 
 1 Scotch for onions. (J. F.) was published in 1814. This helps 
 
 2 Waverley ', it will be remembered, to date this letter. 
 
CH. ii AN EARTHQUAKE 123 
 
 for myself, but I hope you will contrive to satisfy your 
 curiosity some way or other. I was delighted with your 
 account of Lord John [Campbell]. I had had a bad dream 
 about him, which made me very apprehensive. I wish he 
 would go and winter in Italy, however, and take you with 
 him to nurse him. If Lady Charlotte comes, how enchant- 
 ing that will be ; but I fear nothing but an earthquake will 
 roll her hitherward. I stood the Quake very well ; what 
 did you do? Some ladies, I saw in the papers, were 
 papering their hair at the time. I rather think my curls 
 must have been compleated, but I never could say positively 
 whether I must have been tying my night-cap or buttoning 
 the collar of my night-gown. My brother Walter is away 
 to Holland ; I'm afraid he'll never come back. When we 
 who dwell on mountain tops can hardly keep our heads 
 above water, what must it be in such Puddock Land ? Not 
 but what I would go to the Antipodes to shift the scene a 
 little and see something strange and new, for truly this 
 side of the world is become prodigiously flat, and I'm very 
 weary, Miss Clavering, and do nothing but send forth 
 clandestine groans. I'm reading heaps of books, but they 
 tell nothing but the truth, and I know it already ; but if 
 you could send me a batch of lies I should take it very 
 well of you, and they would do me a deal of good ; they 
 would be like foxglove to the dropsy, and arsenic to the 
 ague. I would try my hand myself, but that I know you 
 are very incredulous and wouldn't believe me, though I 
 were to swear that my father wore a pink silk coat and 
 bagwig, and that I rouged and danced waltzes with my 
 brother-in-law's black servant. Ah prop oh ! \sic\ did 
 you ever receive my communications on that subject, 
 i.e. waltzing, and was it not as plain as print where they 
 came from ? I desire you will write instantly and tell me 
 how you like the latitude and longitude of my lucubrations. 
 I mean to cover this page down to the very ground, that 
 you may have no white paper to cast in my teeth. I don't 
 know what to put upon it, but as I began in poetry I scorn 
 
1 24 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. 11 
 
 to end in prose, so I bid you adieu, as I am going to blow 
 my nose. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Montpelier l : Friday, 7th. 
 
 My dear Janet, Before I left town I was so poorly I 
 had no spirit to write to anybody, but as usual the change 
 has had a good effect, and though I don't reckon myself 
 quite well, I am certainly much better than I was. We 
 had not much advantage in weather at the time of our 
 moving, for I scarcely recollect such storms of wind as 
 were at that time ; but country wind is but a slight annoy- 
 ance, it is only town airs that are to be accounted amongst 
 the miseries of life. I walked in yesterday to try to 
 arrange my effects, which I had left very much to the 
 mercy of Betty Horn. 2 After that I made some sick visits, 
 inquired for your friend Betty, who is better, but still con- 
 fined to her chamber. Saw Miss Combie, 3 who is also 
 convalescent, but looks much more like death than matri- 
 mony. Indeed, I think everybody looks sick and dying at 
 present. Miss Clavering is come to town very spectreish, 
 and living upon camphor julep, and tonic drops for her 
 nerves. For my part I have entirely lost faith in physic and 
 almost in physicians, but that is the result of sad experience. 
 Except of diseases I have no knowledge of anything that 
 has been going on in Edinburgh, as we have passed this 
 winter even in a quieter manner than usual, though that 
 seems quite unnecessary ; but I cannot say I have any 
 wish that it should be otherwise, as I could not submit to 
 lead a gay life unless I was very strong and very rich. 
 Having no prospect of ever being either, I am satisfied with 
 such enjoyments as my own fireside offers in winter and 
 my elegant flower-garden in summer. I am now very busy 
 labouring in that department, having the whole work of it 
 
 1 An old house near Morningside, 3 Miss Campbell, of Combie ; she 
 Edinburgh, which Mr. Ferrier had married, in 1815, Mr. Campbell, of 
 for the summer. (J. F.) Sonachan. (J. F. ) 
 
 2 A servant. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii 'WAVERLEY' AND 'GUY MANNERING J 125 
 
 to perform with my own hands, unless some of my friends 
 come to my assistance. I have told Helen that I must 
 have a day's work out of her, and Miss Clavering has 
 promised me another, so I hope I shall get it accomplished 
 without the aid of man. All my sedentary employments 
 are completely at a stand. I never sew (except in my 
 garden), scarcely ever put pen to paper, and have not read 
 anything fit to be named since * Guy Mannering.' I dare 
 say you will be much delighted with that performance, as 
 it seems to have given unbounded pleasure to everybody 
 but me ; but I do not like it half so well as ' Waverley,' 
 though I dare say it is a work of greater power. I am 
 happy you like ' Discipline/ l but you have mistaken me in 
 thinking I meant it to be returned, as it was intended as a 
 small addition to your library, being one of the very few 
 novels I think fit for family use. I must leave it to Mrs. 
 F. 2 to give you any news that are going. For my part 
 I hear nothing but the cackling of hens and the routing of 
 the cow, who, by-the-bye, is to be confined in a few days, an 
 event which will excite no slight sensation in the family, I 
 assure you. I have not heard from London or Stirling for 
 a great while, but, like you, I have become a very lazy 
 correspondent, and have therefore no right to find fault. 
 Remember me affectionately to Mr. C. and the youngsters, 
 and believe me to be 
 
 Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Montpelier : October 12, 1815. 
 
 My dear Janet, You would hear from Walter 
 [her brother] of our safe arrival at home atfer all our 
 weary wanderings, and since my return I have been as busy 
 as I can be, which, I believe, is being about a hundredth 
 
 1 By Mrs. Brunton. It appeared beauty. She was mother of the late 
 in 1814. (J. F.) Professor Ferrier, of St. Andrews, 
 
 2 Mrs. John Ferrier, sister of Pro- N.B. She died at 12 York Place, 
 fessor Wilson and remarkable for her Edinburgh in January 1833. (J. F.) 
 
126 'MARRIAGE' en. 11 
 
 part as active as other people. Had I prolonged our 
 absence, I don't suppose we should have got into our own 
 house l this winter, as it is not yet ready for us. I've 
 done nothing but run after masons, painters, and uphol- 
 sterers ever since I came home. This carries a great 
 sound with it, and you'll naturally conclude that I'm not 
 only painting and new furnishing the house from top to 
 toe, but that I've been pulling it down and building it up 
 again. The upholstery is merely making up the drawing- 
 room curtains anew, but, trifling as these matters are, the 
 workpeople here are so slow and so stupid there is no 
 coming either to an understanding or a finishing with them. 
 I believe my father would not be sorry for an excuse to 
 remain here till the meeting of the Session, but I wish to 
 be in earlier on account of the Festival and the preachings, 
 not that I'm at all clear of attending the former, as it is 
 expected that even the morning performances will be ex- 
 tremely crowded, and in that case I certainly shall not run 
 the risk of being laid up for the winter ; but if they are 
 moderately attended I'm in hopes I shall get to one, which 
 would probably satisfy me. Everybody agrees that it will 
 be the grandest thing that ever was seen or heard through- 
 out the kingdom. I'm certain it would do me more good 
 to hear fine sacred music than to listen to fifty sermons. I 
 therefore consider it a religious duty, and as you are not 
 much in the way of the Church, I think you are bound to 
 be forthcoming at the Festival. ... I hope you will write 
 and tell me that you are coming, and what day. It begins 
 on the 3 1st, and you ought to arrive some days before, that 
 your thoughts may be composed for the occasion. Of 
 course Anne will accompany you, leaving Helen 2 at the 
 head of the government. I hear she is now fairly come out. 
 James Walker 3 told me he had danced with her at a 
 circuit ball, and I hear she has since been figuring off 
 
 1 No. 25 George Street, Edin- 2 Mrs. Connell's daughters. (J. F. ) 
 burgh, where Mr. Ferrier lived from 3 Of Dairy. (J. F.) 
 1784 till his death, 1829. (J. F.) 
 
en. ii LETTER TO MRS. CONNELL I2/ 
 
 with that indefatigable old cow. Will nobody put that 
 creature to death ? I see a flaming account of your 
 Dumfries doings in the papers. Helen will be exulting in 
 the splendours of her darling city ; many a dispute we 
 used to have on that subject, but she would have the best 
 of the argument at present. I heard from Helen l yester- 
 day, after a very long silence. Her health, she says, is now 
 very good. I expect Jane will be in to the Festival, as it 
 won't be like her to absent herself from so remarkable a 
 spectacle. I was very much delighted with my visit to 
 the Castle 2 ; it is really a most agreeable residence, 
 and the children quite delightful. . . . Miss Clavering 
 writes me that the Duchess of Argyll is again in the 
 way of providing an heir. I trust she will be more 
 successful than on former occasions. Tell Jane I saw 
 Miss Connell two days ago in good health. My father 
 was much amused at the idea of your wanting my assist- 
 ance to expel G. C., 3 and indeed I had enough of business 
 of the same sort upon hand at Spitcaithley* Remember 
 me affectionately to Mr. C. and the girls, and believe me to 
 be affectionately yours. 
 
 Friday evening. I had no opportunity of sending this 
 to town to-day, and upon Walter's coming out to dinner he 
 told me he had this morning a letter from Mr. C. men- 
 tioning that you and Anne would come to pay us a visit, 
 which makes me very happy indeed. We shall be in town 
 by the 2/th I expect, but if you can come sooner, let me 
 know, as a day or two is of no consequence to us. Every- 
 thing I find will 'be ready for us in the course of next 
 week. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLAVERING (1816) 
 
 What a cruel Christian you are thus to heap coals of 
 fire upon my poor head, already hot enough, God knows. 
 
 1 Mrs. Kinloch. (J. F.) 4 Miss Ferrier's jocular name for 
 
 2 Stirling. (J. F.) Pitkaithly, a place in Perthshire with 
 
 3 G. C. stands for George Chalmer, mineral waters. (J. F. ) 
 brother of the 'Stag.' (J. F.) 
 
128 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 Your letter cut me to the heart. As for your drawing, 
 it is really exquisite, and I should have admired it had 
 it been the work of my bitterest foe ; but as the freewill 
 offering of a friend, I value it beyond its weight in gold, 
 or its size in fine gold. Truly and seriously, I have 
 received many an expensive present that did not afford 
 me half the gratification of your little etching. You know 
 I don't flatter, so you may believe me when I assure 
 you you have conferred a very great pleasure upon me. 
 I showed it to the Mackenzies. 1 and they all fell into 
 convulsions the moment they clapt their eyes upon it, 
 and Hannah's visage became dimmed with ' pale ire, 
 envy, and despair ' ; so for the sake of her health and 
 complexion I left it with her for a day and a night, 
 which was a great sacrifice on my part, as I have not 
 half explored its wonders yet. I have not climbed up 
 to the Castle above fifty times, nor sat under the trees for 
 more than half an hour, morning and evening. It looks 
 like one of the impossible tasks the cruel Grognon would 
 have imposed upon the beautiful Princess Graciosa, and 
 I'm in hopes you have a Prince Percinet, who did it all for 
 you with a stroke of his wand. I never beheld such human 
 touches, so almost invisibly fine and yet so firm and 
 expressive. Bessie Mure will be filling herself with 
 treasures ; but she's a scrub, and won't give me any, for 
 which I mean to hate her some day. I dare say Mr. 
 Jenkinson * and she draw very well together. I should like 
 to see a joint production of theirs. 
 
 .... I have been reading ' Emma,' 3 which is excellent ; 
 there is no story whatever, and the heroine is no better 
 than other people ; but the characters are all so true to life, 
 and the style so piquant, that it does not require the 
 adventitious aids of mystery and adventure. I have also 
 read M. Simeon's ' Tour Through Britain,' a compilation 
 
 1 Family of H. Mackenzie, ' The married a Miss Campbell, of Shaw- 
 Man of Feeling. ' (J. F.) ^ field. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Afterwards Sir C. Jenkinson ; he 3 Published in 1816. 
 
CH. ii SIMEON'S TRAVELS 129 
 
 of old newspapers, travellers' guides, Joe Miller jests 
 impertinent gossip, and vulgar scurrility, all tacked together 
 in the most grating, disjointed style that sets one's teeth on 
 edge, and makes them feel as if they were trotting on the 
 back of a donkey. His account of Inveraray is that it con- 
 tains some very ugly old-fashioned tapestry and coloured 
 prints in the very worst taste, and that the trees are 
 pyramids stuck upon pivots. Glencoe he describes as 
 having fine steps with a green carpet spread upon them, 
 that it is well swept, and free from litters. Even a chamber- 
 maid would have scorned such figures of speech upon such 
 an occasion. The nightingale, he says, sings in a vulgar 
 manner ; he quizzes Shakespeare, condemns Raphael, and 
 abuses Milton but you must read the book and the copy, 
 if you can get it, enriched with my marginal notes. 
 Modest! . . . 
 
 I have not heard from Lady Charlotte since she came 
 home, and I can't write to her for want of a frank, so 
 continue to tell me all you know of her. I can tell you 
 nothing of what's going on in this dull town, as I seldom 
 stray beyond Prince's Street, where I sometimes go to sun 
 myself. Yes, I went to the Catholic chapel one Sunday 
 with my spectacles on, that I might see all their marches 
 and whirligigs, and strange sights I saw as ever sour-faced 
 Presbyterian looked upon ; but the strangest part of the 
 whole was the lecture or discourse, which was a red-hot 
 exhortation to matrimony, and that from a Catholic priest 
 I was not prepared for. He began by showing from. 
 Scripture how highly marriage was approved of by Heaven, 
 and then proceeded in all the richness and energy of a 
 first-rate brogue to describe the joys of holy wedlock ; he 
 then changed his tune : 
 
 1 An what's the raason ye are all such meeserable craaters 
 in the maareed staate ? What's the raason of the scandalous 
 tumults, the dirty squibbles you're for ever engaged in ? 
 It's becaaze ye don't maary in the spirit, but for the graatifica- 
 tion of your owne vile bodees ; it's the Deevil himsaalf 
 
 K 
 
1 30 * MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 that presides at your maarages. Now as for the dewtees 
 of husbands and wives, I'll taall ye plainly what they are 
 
 But for the dignity of this chyer, and for sake of 
 
 deacency an modesty, I shall go no farder. An' as for you 
 of both saaxes who are still single, an' of coorse laading 
 vicious an' profligate lives, I advise you as a friend to alter 
 your behaviour unless ye all wish to go to Hell.' But I 
 beg pardon for the familiarity I have fallen into allow me 
 to turn over a new leaf. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS CLAVE RING [1816?] 
 
 I relent ; here is a letter for you, so dry your eyes, wipe 
 your nose, and promise to be a good child, and I shall 
 forgive you for this time. I'm sure you must be very sorry 
 for having displeased me, for I know my friendship is the 
 only thing in the world you care about ; everything else 
 compared to it is as cold porridge to turtle soup. Tell me 
 how you have sped in the long night of my silence. Did 
 not the sun appear to you like an old coal basket, and the 
 heavens as a wet blanket ? Was not the moon invisible 
 to your weeping eyes ? Were not the fields to your dis- 
 tempered fancy without verdure, and the boughs without 
 blossoms ? And did not the birds refuse to sing, and the 
 lambs to dance ? Did not the wind sometimes seem to sigh 
 and the dogs to howl? All these and a thousand such 
 prodigies I know have appeared to you in the long interval 
 of my silence ; but now the spell is broken, and all these 
 fearful visions will vanish ; you will see the sun break out 
 as yellow as your hair, and the moon shine as white as 
 your hand ; the fields will grow as green as grass in 
 December, and the birds will dance waltzes all the way 
 before you from the post-office ; you will taste of five more 
 dishes at dinner to testify your joy, and you will toss off 
 an additional glass of ale in honour of every sentence I 
 shall indite. You would hear how Lady Charlotte * had 
 
 1 Lady Charlotte Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL 131 
 
 tarried in this place ten days, 1 but I got very little good of 
 her. She was so chercht and recherche". She dined with 
 me one day, however, and had John Wilson to show off 
 with, and there arose a question whether a woman of a 
 right way of thinking would not rather be stabbed as 
 kicked by her husband (observe this burn hole, Miss, it is 
 a sure sign that either you or I are going to be married ; 
 but keep that to yourself, and excuse this parenthesis, 
 which, indeed, is rather too long, but I hope you have not 
 such an antipathy to them as Dean Swift had ; he, honest 
 man ! could not abide the sight of them, which was 
 certainly a prejudice on his part ; for mine, I think there 
 are worse things in the world than parentheses). But to 
 return to where I was (which, indeed, is not such an easy 
 matter, as I must turn the page to see where I left off; it 
 was at the burnt hole, and here I am just coming upon 
 another, which looks as if we were both going to be wed ; I 
 wonder who it will be to !), I am for a stabber, but I 
 dare say you will be for putting up with a kicker. It was 
 talking of Lord Byron brought on the question. I maintain 
 there is but one crime a woman could never forgive in her 
 husband, and that is a kicking. Did you ever read any- 
 thing so exquisite as the new canto of ' Childe Harold ' ? 
 It is enough to make a woman fly into the arms of a 
 tiger; nothing but a kick could ever have hardened her 
 heart against such genius. 
 
 ... I thought Lady Charlotte looking more like her- 
 self, for she would dance and sing and go about and talk 
 blue, and that is hard work in this town. I think Miss 
 Campbell critically beautiful, and nothing more? She has 
 all the Argyll elegance, but she wants their look of esprit ; 
 and, in short, she is a person I don't think I could ever 
 feel much interest in. With Lady Cumming it is quite 
 otherwise. She may not be so handsome, but she is a 
 vast deal more attractive. She carries her heart in her 
 
 1 Edinburgh. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Afterwards Countess of Uxbridge; died 1828. (J. F.) 
 
 K 2 
 
132 'MARRIAGE' CH. n 
 
 countenance, and it is so good a one that it makes one 
 happy to look at it. 1 Mr. Wilson 2 remains faithful to your 
 charms ; he does not allow your cousin to be at all com- 
 parable to you, but he became so improper in the com- 
 parison that he really made it odious. Lady Charlotte 
 seems more eat up with sentiment than ever ; all her sayings 
 and doings are delightful, to be sure, in her, but how odd 
 they would seem in the ugly part of the creation ! I hear 
 your brother Douglas is in town, but he does not come 
 near me, and I have not a genius for running after the 
 men, a la Bessie, so I suppose I shall never cast sawt [salt] 
 upon him. If you come to town this winter I hope you 
 will come and visit me at the Tolbooth ; I expect to be 
 there very soon, having lost my purse containing near four 
 pounds. I've some thoughts of trying a penny piece 
 subscription, like Lord Cochrane, but I doubt if I could 
 raise more than a shilling by it. What is your opinion of 
 the extent of friendship in brass ? I've read ' My Landlord's 
 Tales,' and can't abide them ; but that's my shame, not 
 their fault, for they are excessively admired by all persons 
 of taste, Bessie Mure amongst others. I thought my back 
 would have broke at ' Old Mortality,' such bumping up and 
 down behind dragoons, and such scolding, and such righting, 
 and such preaching. O, how my bones did ache ! I trust 
 it is unnecessary for me to say a syllable on the subject of 
 a speedy answer, as I am sure your own feelings will point 
 out to you the propriety of an instantaneous reply to your 
 much injured and forgiving friend, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 The Grand Duke Nick o lass is arrived. 
 
 1 Eldest daughter of Lady C. shows that the letter is later than 
 
 Campbell; married Sir Wm. Gordon September n, 1815. (J. F.) 
 Gumming, Bart., died 1842. The 2 Christopher North. ' (J. F.) 
 reference to her as Lady Gumming 
 
ii MISS CLAVERING'S SHARE IN 'MARRIAGE' 133 
 
 MISS CLA VERING TO S. E. F. 
 
 Postmark: May 2, 1817, Wednesday. 
 
 My dear Susan, I sincerely congratulate you upon your 
 good luck in the sale of your brains, and most disinte- 
 restedly I do so, as you cannot suppose me mean enough 
 ever to think for a moment of sharing the profit where I have 
 not aided the labour. What I have written is the only few 
 pages that will be skipped, 1 and as for the time I have 
 lost in writing what was fit only for the fire when it was 
 done, it is ten to one I should have been wasting my time 
 in something else that might have been equally profitless, 
 so that it is not worth mentioning. You are really in luck, 
 and I should think you would not long hesitate in closing 
 with such terms. 2 As for myself, I could not positively 
 engage never to look at you when the book was mentioned, 
 but as there is no likelihood of my being near you at all 
 that need not deter you. Make haste and print it then, 
 lest one of the Miss Edmonstones should die, as then I 
 should think you would scarce venture for fear of being 
 haunted. I was glad to hear that you had got out to the 
 country. I think I know the house, but thought it was a 
 school, which certainly would not suit you. Is it rather an 
 old-fashioned looking house with two stairs to go up to 
 the door ? This unprecedented fine weather will make a 
 new creature of you and will render your garden quite a 
 paradise to you. 3 Take care the boys on the links don't 
 break your legs with their balls. I think there has been 
 only two showery days the whole month of April. Did 
 you ever get a message I sent you about money, by Bessie ? 
 Upon looking over that letter just now, I think I can descry 
 
 1 Note by Miss Ferrier. History 3 Old Morningside House was the 
 of Mrs. Douglas, vol. i. subsequently house old Mr. Ferrier and his 
 altered and abridged. (J. F.) daughter removed to every spring 
 
 2 The terms were not magnificent from Edinburgh ; it still stands, 
 for Marriage. She received ISO/. (J. F.) 
 
 from Mr. Blackwood. (J. F.) 
 
134 'MARRIAGE' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 a sort of vague meaning as if you had got the money ; if so, 
 well and good. I owe you six shillings, which you shall 
 surely get somehow or other. I have never thanked you 
 for the ' Moral Waltzing/ which is very diverting. I sup- 
 pose long ere this you have solaced yourself with ' Six 
 Weeks at Long's.' I have never seen it, and Sir William 
 told me it was not fit for a young lady to read ; however, 
 as I am an old one, I should certainly have ventured had it 
 come in my way. 1 I am convinced Miss Adair no more wrote 
 the * White Cottage ' than you did. 2 It is so absurd people 
 fancying that anybody would write the same kind of story 
 twice over. I think it very pretty indeed ; it is like a man's 
 writing. I do think I shall hasten to burn your last letter 
 as you mention something of looking out for a father for 
 your bantling, so I don't think it would be decent to let 
 anybody get a sight of such a letter ! I am sorry to 
 hear Hannah Mackenzie is not looking well. . . . Poor 
 Bessie is very melancholy about her sister. This world 
 does, indeed, teem with woes of every description. Have 
 you seen the picture she has done of Rawdon ? He wrote 
 me he had had his last sitting, but carefully omitted saying 
 a single word upon the subject of the picture. Douglas 
 and he 3 are coming here the end of this month, for I believe 
 this is the 1st of May. I had rather they stayed where 
 they are, this will be terribly dull to them ; duller than 
 this letter, which I ought to make many apologies for. I 
 am really sorry to make you pay for it, but you desired 
 
 1 Any one who has read Six Weeks already discarded his neck cloth.' That 
 
 at Long's will probably agree with Lord Byron was the subject of revolting 
 
 * Sir William's ' opinion. It is written personal charges at the very outset of 
 
 by Eaton Stannard Barrett, best his career, is shown by the fact that 
 
 known as the author of The Heroine. he is here represented as drinking iced 
 
 It is a mixture of extravagant and claret ! 
 
 rather dull melodrama, with personal 2 After writing * I,' she puts ' you ' 
 
 satire, sometimes amusing, always over it, and says, 'After putting /, 
 
 scurrilous. In the opening scene I thought you would imagine that 
 
 Lord Byron and Beau Brummel are was a get off, and meant that we had 
 
 introduced under the transparent both written it, so I hereby testify I 
 
 pseudonyms of Lord Leander and don't know who is the author.' The 
 
 Mr. Bellairs. The friends of the author was a Dr. Mower. (J. F. ) 
 
 former ' hope that he will discard his 3 Her brothers. (J. F.) 
 cynicism and misanthropy, as he has 
 
CH. ii LETTER FROM MRS. FLETCHER 135 
 
 me to write, and I should certainly make myself gay and 
 happy if I could, both for my own sake and yours. 
 Believe me, however, 
 
 Always your sincerely affectionate 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 1 
 
 The following note was written after Miss Clavering 
 became Mrs. Fletcher (1817), and endorsed by Miss Ferrier 
 'To be kept.' 
 
 Many thanks for the China, my dear Susan, which is 
 very pretty and useful. As for the novel, I read it all 
 before Mr. Fletcher came home yesterday, and I admire it 
 more than I can express. You are improved even beyond 
 my expectation, and Lady Emily is dazzling with her wit. 
 Altogether it is perfectly amusing, and much of the old 
 lady is excessively affecting, and absolutely made me blow 
 my nose. Indeed, her character is particularly well drawn. 
 Lord Lindores (I don't like his name) is well done, too, but 
 I wish there was more of him and of the details of their 
 wooing. Pray have you written any more, and is that the 
 end of the second volume ? I am pining for the rest and to 
 have the whole denouement. I thought you, lazy woman, 
 would have been still at your breakfast. As for me, I have 
 been at mine these two days at half-past eight ! I am 
 afraid it will not be in my power to see you to-day ; I 
 have so many places to go to, you cannot imagine ; however, 
 if not to-day, certainly to-morrow, and probably early. 
 Your messenger is horribly impatient. Farewell. 
 
 Ever your affectionate, 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 From one of the eminent guests whom Miss Ferrier 
 met in the Campbell society came a word of warning 
 against a career of letters. It is in the fitness of things 
 that one of the most dismal and affected of literary mas- 
 queraders should have sought to silence the voice of a 
 
 1 It was in this year that Miss Clavering became the wife of Mr. 
 Miles Fletcher. 
 
1 36 ' MARRIAGE en. n 
 
 satirist, from whom dulness and pretence ever looked in 
 vain for quarter. * Monk ' Lewis wrote thus : 
 
 I hear it rumoured that Miss F r doth write novels, 
 
 or is about writing one. I wish she would let such idle 
 nonsense alone, for however great a respect I may entertain 
 for her talents (which I do), I tremble lest she should fail in 
 this bookmaking, and as a rule I have an aversion, a pity, 
 and contempt for all female scribblers. The needle, not 
 the pen, is the instrument they should handle, and the only 
 one they ever use dexterously. I must except, however, 
 their love-letters, which are sometimes full of pleasing con- 
 ceit : but this is the only subject they should ever attempt 
 to write about. The fact is, I am full of the subject, being 
 at the present moment much enraged at Lady - - for 
 having come out in the shape of a novel, and now hearing 
 
 that Miss F r is about to follow her bad example, I 
 
 write in great perturbation of mind, and cannot think of 
 speak of anything else. 1 
 
 FROM GEORGE, DUKE OF ARGYLL TO S. E. F. 
 
 Inveraray Castle : December 19, 1817. 
 
 A thousand pardons, dear Miss Ferrier, for not answer- 
 ing your mermaid letter sooner. I leave it entirely to your 
 taste whether my mermaid disports herself in the waves or 
 combs her hair out on a rock, though I rather think her 
 tail may oppose some difficulties to the sitting posture, but 
 I particularly wish she may not have so armorial an 
 appearance as the pattern seal has, nor do I like the triple 
 end of her dorsal fin. If there is room, I should like the 
 word Georgy on the seal. Forgive my giving you so much 
 trouble. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 ARGYLL. 
 
 Caroline desires her kindest love to you. 
 
 1 From Diary, illustrative of the was in the habit of meeting him in 
 
 Times of George IV. M. G. Lewis her young days. His doubts as to her 
 
 was well known to both Miss Ferrier novel writing were never determined, 
 
 and Lady C. Campbell ; he used to as he died in 1818, the year in which 
 
 visit at Inveraray, where Miss Ferrier Marriage was published. (J. F.) 
 
CH. ii MRS. GARSHAKE 137 
 
 FROM LORD JOHN CAMPBELL, AFTERWARDS SEVENTH 
 DUKE OF ARGYLL, TO S. E. F. 
 
 Wednesday evening. 
 
 Dear Miss Ferrier, I regret missing you this morning, 
 but perhaps I may find you in George Street to-morrow or 
 Friday, before two o'clock, when I go to Lord Rosebery's. 
 I brought some parcels for you, but I cannot take yours 
 for Charlotte, as I am not going to Ardencaple for ages. 
 I am going to Altyre l and many other places a visiting, so 
 you had better send your Bonny Dys 2 by the coach. I 
 can assure you I did not either touch the Bible or the 
 flute, but I made all square and then came away. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 J. D. CAMPBELL. 
 
 The correspondence with Miss Clavering serves to let 
 us into some of the secrets of Miss Ferrier's workshop 
 An extract from a letter by a common friend carries our 
 knowledge a little further. It shows how Miss Ferrier 
 cast about for suitable material, and how deftly and 
 appropriately she incorporated it when found. It serves, too, 
 to throw some light on the embarrassments and fears which 
 the secrecy of her authorship involved her in. 
 
 Before ' Marriage ' was published we find Miss Mure 
 writing to Miss Clavering : 
 
 ' Since I began this I have been out at Susan Ferrier's 
 with Mary Campbell. Susan does not go to Gilsland till 
 the twelfth. You remember the thing I had of my aunt's 
 writing on the change of manners. Mr. Mackenzie once 
 asked my leave to copy it, which I permitted, and it was a 
 few days ago printed in a New Edinburgh Magazine, 
 published by Constable. I don't think it was the thing to 
 do it without my consent. I told Susan ; she was like to 
 go into a fit, as all Mrs. Garshake's character and conversa- 
 
 1 Where his niece, Lady Gordon that the way to spell Bessie Mure's 
 Gumming, lived. (J. F.) language?' ' Bonny Dyes ' is Scotch 
 
 2 Lord J., in a footnote, asks, 'Is for 'Fine Things.' (J. F.) 
 
138 'MARRIAGE CH. n 
 
 tion turns on that theme. She advised me to prosecute 
 him for damages and hire Mr. JefFry for my lawyer' 
 
 It remained for Miss Ferrier to find a publisher. The 
 historian of the house of Blackwood, loyally anxious to do 
 honour to the founder of it, has, I think, a little exagge- 
 rated his services to letters in this matter. She pictures 
 Mr. Blackwood as a munificent patron taking by the hand 
 a timid and distrustful young writer. 2 
 
 No doubt Miss Ferrier's strenuous determination to 
 remain unknown made it specially difficult for her to make 
 terms. 3 But I think we may take it as certain that when 
 Blackwood gave a hundred and fifty pounds for the 
 copyright of * Marriage ' he was running no very hazardous 
 venture. Miss Ferrier, too, had active friends in close 
 contact with the literary world with whom her secret would 
 have been safe, and some of whom indeed already knew it. 
 It can hardly be said that Blackwood showed any 
 exceptional insight in perceiving that if he failed to secure 
 Miss Ferrier's work, a Scottish rival to Miss Burney might 
 make the fortune of another publisher, or any peculiar 
 enterprise or liberality in the measure which he took to 
 prevent that calamity. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh : May 6, 1817. 
 
 Mr. Blackwood now returns the author the enclosed, 
 which he has perused oftener than once with the highest 
 delight. He feels not a little proud that such a writer 
 should express a wish to receive any suggestions from him. 
 The whole construction and execution of the work appear 
 
 1 In * Marriage ' as published Mrs. age has produced better writers than 
 Garshake becomes Mrs. Macshake. Mrs. Oliphant, though none too many. 
 
 2 I shall have occasion again to It has, I venture to think, produced 
 dissent from Mrs. Oliphant's estimate hardly any who succeed in the same 
 of the relations between Miss Ferrier way in establishing a claim on the 
 and Mr. Blackwood. I should be, in- goodwill, one might almost say on 
 deed, sorry if my criticisms seemed to the personal friendship, of the reader, 
 imply any disparagement of the book. 3 Some years later Miss Ferrier 
 It is enough praise of it, I think, to say wrote thus : ' Secrecy at that time was 
 that it does not need the favour to all that I was anxious about, and so I 
 which it is fully entitled as the last paid the penalty of trusting entirely 
 work of its author. The Victorian to the good faith of the publishers. ' 
 
CH. ii LETTERS FROM MR. BLACKWOOD 139 
 
 to him so admirable, that it would almost be presumption 
 in any one to offer corrections to such a writer. Mr. B. 
 begs to assure the author that unmeaning compliment is 
 the farthest from his thoughts, and he flatters himself that 
 at no distant period he will have the high delight of assur- 
 ing the author in person of the heartfelt sincerity of the 
 opinions he has ventured to offer. 
 
 Mr. B. will not allow himself to think for one 
 moment that there can be any uncertainty as to the work 
 being completed. Not to mention his own deep dis- 
 appointment, Mr. B. would almost consider it a crime if 
 a work possessing so much interest and useful instruction 
 were not given to the world. 
 
 The author is the only critic of whom Mr. B. is 
 afraid, and after what he has said he anxiously hopes that 
 this censor of the press will very speedily affix the 
 imprimatur. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh : May 30, 1817. 
 
 Mr. Blackwood embraces this opportunity of returning 
 the MS. to offer his warmest thanks to the author 
 for the high enjoyment he has received from it. It is 
 unnecessary for him to repeat how much he is flattered by 
 his observations being considered as at all worthy of notice 
 by one who is so far above his feeble praise, and who 
 stands so little in need of criticism. 
 
 Mr. B. cannot forbear remarking how admirably 
 the cold selfish character of Lady Juliana continues to be 
 sustained, as well as the fine contrast afforded by the 
 sensitive and feeling heart of her deserted daughter. 
 Every one has felt in youth the glow of enthusiasm so well 
 pourtrayed in Mary, and any one who has ever associated 
 with the English of a certain class will at once recognise 
 in Dr. Redgill the living portrait of hundreds, though never 
 before hit off so well. The first paragraph of the second 
 
I4O ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 chapter is alike remarkable for its truth, beauty, and neat- 
 ness. 
 
 Mr. B. hopes he will be excused for making these 
 observations, which he has been tempted to make from the 
 portion he now has before [him] being so small. If he 
 had attempted to say what he felt on perusing the 
 former part of the work, he fears he would have said too 
 much for the author's patience, and at the same would 
 not have been able to have done justice to his own 
 feelings. He anxiously hopes the author will not lag, 
 but finish the work with all convenient speed. When it 
 suits the author's conveniency Mr. B. need but add how 
 happy he will be to receive either a large or small portion 
 of the MS. 
 
 W. BLACK WOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh : August 7, 1817. 
 
 Madam, I return you the enclosed with a thousand 
 thanks for the very high delight I have had in perusing it. 
 Mrs. Lennox's character is most interesting, and our old 
 friends support their parts most admirably. You are 
 quite in the true spirit at present, and I anxiously hope 
 you will go on without doubt, let or hindrance. I am quite 
 impatient that I should have it in my power to let others 
 enjoy what I have enjoyed so much myself. 
 I am, madam, 
 
 Yours very respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh: December 10, 1817. 
 
 Madam, I now return the two portions of MS. 
 you lately favoured me with. As you proceed, I think 
 you are still happier in your delineations. I have never 
 read anything that gave me such strong impressions of 
 real life. Your picture of the blind mother and her son is 
 
CH. IT LETTERS FROM MR. BLACKWOOD 141 
 
 most striking, but if I were to praise any part more than 
 another it would be the admirable way in which you have 
 hit off Lady Matilda &c., &c. I anxiously hope you are 
 proceeding without let or hindrance, and that I shall very 
 soon have the pleasure of seeing the work fairly at press. 
 I am, madam 
 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Prince's Street : Tuesday, five o'clock. 
 
 Madam, Mr. Mackenzie is in the highest degree 
 pleased with the second volume, so far as he has read, and 
 is anxious to see the remainder. I now send you the last 
 portion I got, and I hope you will be able to give the 
 whole to Mr. M. to-night or to-morrow morning. 
 I am, madam, 
 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Prince's Street : Saturday. 
 
 Madam, I am very sorry it will not be in my power, 
 as I intended, to call on you this evening, and I am like- 
 wise unfortunately engaged on Monday ; but if it would 
 answer you I would call on you on Monday betwixt ten 
 and eleven. If I do not hear from you to the contrary I 
 shall therefore call at that time. 
 
 In the meantime I send you the whole of the first 
 volume fairly copied. The printer tells me it would make 
 about 440 such pages as ' Tales of my Landlord,' ' Rob 
 Roy,' &c. This, you will see, is nearly a hundred pages too 
 much. I expect to have the remaining portion of the 
 MS. copied in a few days, when I will send you an exact 
 calculation of the extent of the whole. 
 
 The two chapters you last finished are, I think, excellent 
 and I wonder at you not being satisfied yourself. Continue 
 
142 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 en. ii 
 
 (as there is no doubt you will) with the same spirit, and 
 success is certain. 
 
 I am, madam, 
 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 I have addressed the packet to Mrs. Graham. Besides, 
 there is none of my people who will suppose anything 
 whatever. 
 
 I hope you will be able to give me on Monday a part 
 of the MS. for the printers. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO JOHN FERRIER, JUNIOR 
 
 Dear Sir, Since we can now give a name to the work 
 which we have so long had in hands, I beg to mention 
 to you, on behalf of the author, the terms which I originally 
 proposed to Mrs. General Graham. 
 
 I hereby offer for the copyright of * Marriage,' a novel, 
 one hundred and fifty pounds sterling. Booksellers 
 commonly expect twelve months' credit, but I shall pay 
 the money shortly after publication if you wish it. 
 
 Your answer in behalf of the author will close the 
 transaction, and oblige, 
 
 Dear sir, 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS WALKER 
 
 Newington House : 29th. 
 
 My dear Anne, I was beginning to feel rather queer 
 at you for your long silence, when yours arrived and put 
 all my feelings into their right places. I could not 
 answer it instantly because I was in the heat of my pre- 
 parations to take possession of this chateau, which we did 
 yesterday, and instead of unpacking my trunk I sit down 
 to unpack myself to you. In the first place I must plead 
 innocent to the lily white robes which seem to have 
 
CH. ii LETTER TO MISS WALKER 143 
 
 given such offence. I was merely used as a tool in the 
 matter ; my taste was not consulted, though my name has 
 been used as a sanction. ... At the same time I consider 
 it not only as an act of charity but a positive duty in you 
 to array yourself occasionally in costly raiment ; you not 
 only encourage the industrious manufacturer by it, but you 
 inflict upon yourself a severe penance and practise that 
 highest of virtues, self-denial. Possibly, some people might 
 object to view the wearing of white satin as any penance, 
 but these must be voluptuous Catholics, who would shudder 
 at a suit of sackcloth ; besides, penances, like other things, 
 must depend on taste, and I've no doubt but that you would 
 greatly prefer a good stout black hair cloth smock to being 
 clothed a la lily. As to the watch, you, who can patronise 
 painters, what is your objection to befriending watchmakers? 
 Probably the making of your watch saved a family from 
 starving, perhaps a man from hanging himself, or poisoning 
 his wife, or braining his small family. In short, I defy any 
 one to say that the purchase of your watch is not the best 
 action you ever committed. I was very glad to leave 
 town on any terms, as I found myself very poorly ; the 
 warm weather had no other effect than that of weakening 
 me, but I think I feel revived by the change already. My 
 malady, however, is no better, and I see plainly there is 
 but one remedy, and I must try to make up my mind to 
 it, and trust when the time comes God will give me strength, 
 both of mind and body, to bear His dispensation. I expect 
 Mrs. Graham next for a few days, but I long very much 
 for your return. However, the loth is now so near that 
 I shall try to wait patiently till then. This is a huge 
 house, something quite out of our humble sphere, but at 
 this season a large house is pleasant, and we have plenty 
 of room for our friends ; the only drawback is the great 
 distance and the disagreeable access from your quarter of 
 the town. I am reading Mrs. Hamilton's ' Memoirs,' * 
 which I think just readable and no more, but I have not read 
 
 1 Authoress of the Cottagers of Glenburnie. (J. F. ) 
 
144 ' MARRIAGE ' CH. n 
 
 much of them. I saw H. Mackenzie 1 yesterday, and she 
 says her sister writes from London that ' Marriage ' is 
 much admired and generally attributed to Walter Scott, 
 but Hannah said her father had good reason to believe it 
 was Miss Campbell of Monzie. 2 Whose ever it is I have met 
 with nothing that has interested me since \ I long for your 
 allegory, I dare say it will be fine. I saw Helen yesterday 
 in great preservation. Adieu, my dear Anne. Write to 
 me and tell me when I shall see you. I'm very dull at 
 present, so excuse me. My father is well and desires his 
 remembrances. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS ANNE WALKER 
 
 Wednesday, I4th. 
 
 My dear Anne, It is reversing the order of nature in 
 me to write to you first, but as you are one of those 
 eccentric bodies who observe no order yourself you will not 
 be surprised at my deviation. I heard of your safe arrival 
 yesterday from Helen, and that you were storming for 
 letters, which is the cause of this one. She walked out in 
 the rain and Julia 3 came for her in the carriage, seemingly 
 quite well, so you must find some other legitimate object 
 to trouble your head about, for she is no longer the least 
 interesting, and I hear all is smooth at home, so you have 
 nothing to do but to eat, drink, and be merry abroad. That 
 is not so easy in this weather, and if you are living like me, 
 in the midst of wet leaves, I dare say you'll feel it dull 
 enough sometimes in spite of your teeth. I don't mean 
 this in a Redgill sense, as I know your teeth are not the 
 chief instruments of your pleasure. I've got nothing done 
 
 1 Hannah Mackenzie, daughter of and the best monitor in the world.' 
 
 the Man of Feeling.' (J. F.) His drawing of her represents a face 
 
 2 The cousin of KirkpatrickSharpe and figure of great beauty. (J. F.) 
 to whom he addressed unwontedly 3 Afterwards Lady Hall, of Dun- 
 amiable letters, and whom he describes glass. (J. F. ) 
 (vol. i. p. 196) as 'a staunch friend 
 
CH. ii JAMES FERRIER SEN. AND ' MARRIAGE ' 145 
 
 since I saw you, but I shall try to sketch a little some 
 day soon, and I hope your pencil is not idle ; the merest 
 scratches of yours have always some merit, so be doing. 
 There has only been one good day since I saw you, and 
 this place l swarmed like a bee-hive. Amongst others was 
 Miss Moneypenny, who is fain to take up with Hannah 
 Mackenzie in your absence. I wonder what I am to cover 
 this white sheet with ; I don't think I have a blot yet, and 
 you'll despise me if you get a clean letter, so I shall leave 
 room for one ; it will both raise me in your estimation and 
 give you something for your money, for I know nothing so 
 grudging as to pay postage for white paper that is an 
 imposition I must say you scorn to practise on your 
 friends. I am thinking of building a brig, not a bridge, 
 but a vessel to cruise about my grounds in. Have you 
 named your boat yet ? 
 
 The rain is pouring, the wind is roaring, 
 
 I wish I was snoring, and so do you ; 
 
 But perhaps you are sailing, while I am wailing, 
 
 And my time is failing, so I shall bid you Adieu. 
 
 There is poetry as well as painting for you ! But as I 
 know you are not blessed with such a genius, I shall only 
 expect in return a good mess of plain prose telling me 
 that you are well and tolerably happy, and don't think 
 of returning before September. God bless you, my dearest 
 Anne, 
 
 I am yours truly affectionately, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 We have seen from these letters how * Marriage ' was 
 received in the immediate circle of Miss Ferrier's kinsfolk 
 and friends. There is a family tradition of its reception 
 by old Mr. Ferrier which, it must be confessed, bears a 
 somewhat suspicious likeness to the well-known story of 
 Miss Burney. 
 
 'Old Mr. Ferrier had a great contempt for female 
 authors, according to the fashion of his day ; and on one 
 
 1 Morningside House. (J. F.) 
 
146 ' MARRIAGE ' 
 
 CH. II 
 
 occasion, when confined to his bed through illness, he 
 asked his daughter to bring a book from the library and 
 read it to him, bidding her be careful not to choose one 
 written by a woman. " Marriage " being then completed, 
 she was desirous to have his opinion of her maiden effort, 
 and read it, seating herself behind the curtains that her 
 father might not see the MS. So delighted was he with 
 the story that he hardly gave her time to take her meals, 
 and on its conclusion she was told to get another by the 
 same author. There was no other, his daughter told him. 
 " I am sorry to hear that," he said, " for it is the best book 
 you have ever brought me." "Then what will you say 
 when I tell you it was written by a woman ? " " Nonsense," 
 was the rejoinder, " no woman could ever write a book like 
 that." My aunt placed the MS. in his hands avowing the 
 authorship, and the old man burst into tears. 5 
 
 This story is on the authority of Mrs. Richardson, who 
 was a frequent visitor at Abbotsford, having been first the 
 wife of Sir Walter's friend, Daniel Terry the comedian. 1 
 
 Of opinion beyond the immediate circle of those who 
 might be prejudiced in Miss Ferrier's favour two instances 
 are worth quoting. Mrs. Piozzi, writing at the end of 1818, 
 says : ' Meanwhile ladies leave cards and starving females 
 write romances. The novel called " Marriage " is the newest 
 and merriest. How marriage should be a new thing, that 
 is at least as old as Adam, the author may tell : but 'tis a 
 very comical thing, and would make Lady Fellowes laugh 
 on a long evening.' 2 
 
 In less than a year from the publication of ' Marriage ' 
 we find it receiving what to the author what, indeed, to 
 any Scottish writer of that day was the supreme and 
 crowning honour for fiction, a word of praise from the 
 author of ' Waverley,' ignorant, it may be, that he was 
 l^efriending the daughter of an old friend and colleague. 3 
 In the epilogue, as one may call it, to the * Tales of My 
 Landlord,' which ends the legend of Montrose, Scott says : 
 ' I retire from the field [of Scottish fiction] conscious 
 that there remains behind not only a large harvest, but 
 
 1 This incident is told in the words Ferrier, as we shall see, speaks of 
 of Mr. John Ferrier. mentioning her authorship to Sir 
 
 2 Mrs. Piozzi to Sir James Fellowes, Walter for the first time. Her Ian- 
 December i, 1818. (Life and Writ- guage suggests that she believed the 
 ings, vol. ii. p 456.) authorship to be a secret from him. 
 
 8 More than ten years later Miss It does not follow that it was so. 
 
CH. ii REFERENCE IN THE 'TALES OF MY LANDLORD' 147 
 
 labourers capable of gathering it in. More than one writer 
 has of late displayed talents of this description, and if the 
 present writer, himself a phantom, may be permitted to 
 distinguish a brother or perhaps a sister shadow, he would 
 mention in particular the author of the very lively work 
 entitled " Marriage." ' 
 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' 
 
 AFTER what one may fairly call Miss Ferrier's triumphant 
 entry into the field of letters she did not long remain 
 resting on her oars. Of the formative process which gave 
 birth to ' Inheritance' we hear nothing. The letters to Miss 
 Clavering, now Mrs. Fletcher, came to an end, and there 
 is no correspondent to whom Miss Ferrier discloses her 
 literary schemes or reveals her best self. One need not 
 suppose that the old frank and affectionate intercourse 
 ceased. 1 No doubt the circle into which Mrs. Fletcher's 
 marriage brought her, one of earnest Whig politics, had no 
 very great sympathy with Miss Ferrier's literary ambitions, 
 and less perhaps with her habitual modes of thought and 
 expression. 2 And no one can study Miss Ferrier's character, 
 as disclosed in her books and letters, and not see that she 
 was a person with whom intimate confidence did not flow 
 very easily, and that the stream which fed it might be 
 easily dammed up or turned aside. And even if there was 
 nothing in the nature of alienation, there was not the same 
 motive for confidence. Miss Ferrier had learnt her methods 
 and tested her strength, and had no longer the same need 
 of a counsellor and a critic. She was shrewd and clear- 
 sighted enough to discount the extravagant praises of 
 friends. She could profit by general criticism all the better 
 because her own interest in the matter was a secret shared 
 with few. 
 
 There are other reasons, too, why the letters should be 
 no longer the same joyous and reckless self-revelation. 
 The whole cast of Miss Ferrier's humour is observant 
 
 1 Many letters from Miss Ferrier Marriage correspondence.' 
 
 to Mrs. Christison were destroyed by - This did not prevent, as we shall 
 
 the writer's request. One can easily see, a very warm friendship springing 
 
 understand why Mrs. Christison up between Miss Ferrier and members 
 
 should have been specially anxious to of the Fletcher family, 
 preserve what one may call 'The 
 
H. in LETTERS TO MRS. CONNELL 149 
 
 rather than reflective, and that is not the kind of humour 
 which defies the encroachments of time. 
 
 Moreover, there was now the impending prospect of 
 separation from that father of whose vigorous, self-repressed 
 nature and outer shell of cynicism Miss Ferrier had in- 
 herited so large a share. How real and absorbing was her 
 devotion to him is clearly shown by more than one 
 incidental reference made by her friends. If henceforth a 
 sense of the lacrymae rerum becomes increasingly more 
 and more manifest, alike in Miss Ferrier's published 
 writings and in her letters, we must remember that there 
 was now almost immediately before her the severance, of 
 the chief tie of human affection which bound her to the 
 world, the cessation of the main interest and purpose to 
 which her life had been for years devoted. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 You must think me the most thankless of beings in 
 never having acknowledged the magnificent salmon you 
 have been sending us, and which might have graced a 
 Lord Mayor's feast ; but by some mistake I was told the 
 sumptuous jowl, which came via York Place, was from 
 Stirling, and I paid my thanks there accordingly, when I 
 found out my mistake. I would have written to you, but 
 John 1 had just sent off a frank and could not get another 
 at that time, so I have been waiting till I could get my 
 acknowledgments covered, as they have not the face to go 
 forth in their own nakedness. Both fish were very fine, 
 but I beg you won't take the trouble to send any more, as 
 my father seldom, or rather never, eats salmon now, and I 
 ought not to taste it. Henry, 2 to be sure, does it all 
 justice, but he leaves us in a few days for Kair, 3 and from 
 thence to London with the Laird and Charles. 4 They 
 were in Edinburgh nearly three days, but we only saw 
 Charles one day at dinner. He seems a nice smart boy 
 
 1 Her eldest brother, John Ferrier ; 2 Her nephew, Henry Kinloch, 
 
 he held various lucrative appoint- (J. F.) 
 
 ments, among others, Deputy Keeper 3 The residence of his uncle, George 
 
 of the Seal of Scotland, under the Kinloch, in Kincardineshire. (J. F. 
 
 Duke of Argyll. (J F.) 4 Another Kinloch nephew. (J. F. 
 
150 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. in 
 
 with a very pleasant voice and manners. Mrs. K. wrote 
 me that you had half trysted to meet at H arrogate, but 
 she seems to think they must be stationary all summer, 
 which I am sure must be bad for both. . . . The Walkers 
 found H arrogate dreadfully dull not a kent face to 
 be seen, but perhaps it is gayer now. Anne l has been 
 the better of the water, but with regard to your Helen I 
 should think the Airthrie water would be of service to her, 
 so perhaps you will take a trip to Stirling, and we shall 
 have a peep of you as you pass. I have taken a small 
 course of it and my head feels much better. . . . My 
 father is quite well, but feels his eyes weak ; fortunately 
 the weather has been delicious, and he is very much out, 
 and when he is in I read to him. This, with my attention 
 to my flowers, picking currants, pulling peas, eating goose- 
 berries, &c., fills up the measure of my days completely. 
 Peggy 2 is, however, to be back to us to-day, which will be 
 a great relief to me, although poor Beenie has done 
 wonders. The Johns are gone to Dalmeny, 3 for two days. 
 James 4 is off to Windermere 5 . . . . I see nobody but the 
 Mackenzies 6 and Wilsons, who never have any news. 
 The town is a perfect desert, as I am told, for I see little of 
 it. The time for our sale is not fixed, but I shall bid for the 
 books you mention. The Madame Genlis will be in great 
 request, as everybody is delighted with her ; it certainly is 
 about the most amusing book that ever was written. I 
 always find writing occasions a slight return of headache. 
 In spite of my specs I must stoop a little, and I never 
 feel right but when I carry my head high, so excuse a 
 letter with nothing in it. ... 
 
 Monday. James 7 dined with us yesterday, and I wanted 
 
 1 Miss Walker. (J. F.) 4 The late Professor Ferrier, of 
 
 2 Their cook, who was (like the St. Andrews. (J. F. ) 
 
 servants long ago) with them for 5 To his uncle's, ' Christopher 
 
 years. (J. F.) North,' at Elleray. (J. F.) 
 
 3 The Ferriers had acted as agents 6 The family of the ' Man of 
 for the Rosebery family for several Feeling.' (J. F.) 
 
 generations. (J. F.) 7 Her nephew, James Connell. 
 
 (J- F.) 
 
en. in LETTERS TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 him to put something into the frank, but he said he had 
 nothing to say to any of you. Margaret F. joined the 
 party unexpectedly ; she has come to town to take home 
 a carriage, and Mrs. Riddell is to accompany her to Cairn- 
 hill. The Hamiltons have taken a house in Ayr for two 
 months for bathing, so she says they will have plenty of 
 room for their friends, and are in hopes Mr. C. and you 
 and some of the Misses will pay them a visit. 
 
 Helen l is grown a good deal, and I think all the better 
 for her travels. She is really a fine creature, clever, 
 natural and ladylike, with an inexhaustible flow of good 
 humour and good spirits. I hardly think you will see 
 them at Conheath at present, though there is no saying, 
 as when people have acquired the habit of moving they 
 cannot settle all at once. We are once more settled here 2 
 for seven months to come, I suppose, and glad I am to 
 find myself out of the smoke and dirt of the town, which 
 always disagrees with me at this season. Jane is shocked 
 at my leanness, and I have not felt very well of late, but 
 the air of this place suits me so particularly well that I 
 dare say I shall soon pick up a little beef to cover my great 
 bare bones. You may believe I am still somewhat hurried 
 and confused, so will excuse this illegible scrawl, and with 
 kind love to the girls, believe me, 
 
 Your ever affectionate, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Monday, January 8. 
 
 My dear Janet, Your magnificent donation arrived 
 safe and sound on Saturday night, and I hasten to make our 
 acknowledgments to Mr. C. and you for so substantial 
 a mark of your remembrance. Nothing could be more 
 apropos than the arrival of the ham, as we had not a 
 morsel in the house, and the turkey is more seasonable 
 now than it would have been at Christmas, as we had one 
 
 1 Miss Terrier's niece, Helen Graham. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Morningside House, where Inheritance was written. (J. F. ) 
 
152 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 from the Dean l and another from Mrs. Wallace. 2 I was 
 beginning to long for some tidings of you, and was relieved 
 to find by Mr. Connell's letter to Walter that you had 
 neither been buried in the snow nor blown into the Solway, 
 but were all living on the surface of the earth. I never 
 remember to have suffered so much from cold as I did 
 during the late storm ; in a colder house I think I must 
 have died outright. I suppose it is my extreme old age 
 that makes me require so much heat to warm my icy 
 veins ; you know I reckon myself ninety-nine in consti- 
 tution. . . . 
 
 Walter made a flying excursion to Stirling at Christmas, 
 and was much pleased with his visit, though he found the 
 cold excessive, . . . and now that the military are gone 
 the general must be badly off for society. To be sure they 
 could hardly have less of it than we have had for these six 
 weeks, as, except the Dean and the Walkers, we have not 
 had a soul within the doors. It is really no compliment 
 to ask people to family dinners and porridge and potato 
 suppers at this season, and with books, bagatelle, and two- 
 handed whist our evenings glide away very easily. ... I 
 was in the old town lately for the second time since you 
 left us, and made out a visit to Mrs. Riddell. Her husband 
 had been confined for a fortnight with a sore throat, and 
 she does not look well herself. 3 She expects her mother 
 about the end of the month. ... I return Mrs. Duncan's 
 book, which I have read again, but I like the first edition 
 the best. I think the last too much spun out and too 
 prosing. Not that I think religion ever can be made of 
 
 1 Mr. Ross, Dean of the Faculty of and others of the name. (J. F.) 
 Advocate. (J. F.) 3 Daughter of Mrs. Ferrier Wallace. 
 
 2 The widow of Miss Ferrier's Thomas Riddell, of Camiston, co. 
 uncle, Walter Ferrier, of Somerford. Roxburgh, her husband, was a friend 
 She resumed her maiden name on of Scott's, who much lamented 
 inheriting the estate of Cairnhill, co. his death, and notes in his diary, 
 Ayr, after the death of four brothers, April 20, 1826: 'Another death, 
 and was known as Mrs. Ferrier Thomas Riddell, younger, of Camis- 
 Wallace. After her death her daughter ton, Sergeant-Major of the Edinburgh 
 called herself Miss Wallace Ferrier, to Troop in the sunny days of our 
 distinguish herself from Miss Ferrier yeomanry, and a very good fellow.' 
 
CH. in LETTERS TO MRS. CONNELL 153 
 
 too much consequence to oneself, but I think people may err 
 in saying too much about it to others. However, it is an 
 excellent work, and we may all learn a great deal of good 
 from it. ... I hear of no new books at present, and there- 
 fore content myself with Henry's ' History ' and Eustace's 
 * Tour Through Italy,' both very excellent in their 
 way ; then with working and walking when the weather 
 will permit fill up the measure of my days. Helen's 1 
 life, I fancy, is a great contrast at present with her 
 five sons on her hands. She cannot have many quiet 
 moments. 
 
 I met Miss Chalmers on the street one day, and it was 
 so long since I had seen her that I really felt something 
 like pleasure at sight of her, poor hunted stag ! but then I 
 felt remorse when I thought of my impudence to her, and 
 upon that I pressed her to come and dine with me, but she 
 was cruel and would not. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Morningside : Monday. 
 
 Although I am not quiet so bad as I must appear to 
 you, yet I am bad enough to make me feel rather at a loss 
 for a good thumping excuse for my silence. I have 
 sundry small ones which, if strung together and properly 
 arranged, might make a very creditable appearance, but 
 you know I have no knack at doing up anything neatly, 
 and besides I hate either to make or to take long-winded 
 excuses, so will rather trust to your taking my word for it 
 that I am not inexcusable. I don't pretend to make my 
 health upon this occasion, as it has been better than it has 
 been for upwards of a year, and, though I never shall be well, 
 I am now very thankful when not positively ill. My father 
 has been in great health and good spirits better than I 
 have seen him for a long while, but he had a slight attack 
 last week in consequence of a merry-making he had with 
 
 1 Mrs. Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
154 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH . m 
 
 Lord Eldin, Mr. Charles Ross, and James Walker the 
 latter, I believe, was merely an accessory not a principal, 
 but the other two are very jovial, and only fit for entertain- 
 ing once in a lifetime. Miss Monypenny, A. Walker, 1 and 
 I were left to our own devices till ten o'clock, by which 
 time we were getting rather tired of one another, and were 
 beginning to fight about dress, but luckily the party broke 
 up before we had begun to pull caps. ... I was sorry to 
 hear by a letter from Helen that Mr. K. was so poorly in 
 his health, but I trust change of air will set him up again, 
 as he has always benefited by it, and Tunbridge seems to 
 agree particularly with him. As you have had a suffi- 
 cient visitation of Henry, 2 and the schools are now 
 opening their jaws again, he must be returning some of 
 these days. There is nothing fixed as to our movements, 
 so I can't say whether we shall be in just before the Festival, 
 or in the very midst of it, or immediately after it, but as 
 it must be one or other I hope you will make up your mind 
 and your plans to come in bodily, and you and some of the 
 girls to remain, as you could be at no loss for a day 'or two, 
 supposing we were not there to receive you, which, however, 
 I think we probably shall, and that, too, in a fine new 
 painted dining-room ! Wonders have not ceased, you see, 
 or at least you will see when you see that. New window 
 curtains, too ! In short I shall not be able to eat my dinner 
 for pride. We have given up our airings long ago, the 
 journey to Newland Burn was the finish. 3 I blessed my 
 stars we had not set out there in the chaise, as I'm sure I 
 must have died by the way. I was dreadfully tired, for 
 four and twenty miles is a prodigious journey to me now. 
 The town is still a desert, and the weather is so broken and 
 the days so short, we have very few visitors, so I have no 
 news of any kind. I have been reading the 'Tales of a 
 Traveller,' which are elegantly written, but the greatest 
 
 1 Sister of Lord Pitmillie, one of 3 A country retreat of the Misses 
 the Lords of Session. (J. F.) Edmonstone near Edinburgh. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
CH. in LORD ELDIN 155 
 
 trash in themselves that ever were put forth. . . . Mrs. John 
 and I agree that the stone teapots are not so good as the 
 silver ones ; however, I have sent for one for a trial, as they 
 are not costly, but I could not get one to hold more than 
 three breakfast cups, and I thought I might as well send a 
 thimble to your table. Tell H. the gardener says the stocks 
 lift better in the Spring. 1 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 My dear Janet, Having thanked your daughters for 
 the beautiful specimens of their work, I must now take to 
 a vulgarer theme and acknowledge the safe arrival of the 
 jolly leg of veal you were kind enough to order for us. It 
 was excellent, and my father enjoyed it very much, so we 
 shall be glad to receive another when it comes. I wish 
 you would let me know the price, that I may pay it to 
 James, and also the cost of the collar, which is almost 
 distressingly beautiful. It makes me wae to think of 
 human eyes straining themselves to such a pitch for their 
 daily bread ! Pray pay the full amount without any 
 prigging, as I shall not grudge it whatever it is, and tell 
 me what it is. as I don't like long accounts. My father 
 continues well in his general health, but was annoyed for 
 some days with an attack of rheumatism in his elbow, 
 which made. him rather helpless, but it is now gone, and 
 the only symptom remaining is its being an excuse for 
 wearing his old ragged duffle great coat and not shaving 
 
 1 John Clerk Lord Eldin, mentioned and had a regular class for them with 
 
 in the foregoing letter, was a well- a Dux and Booby ; and once a terrific 
 
 known resident of Edinburgh in his cats' concert took place behind his 
 
 day ; he was a very talented artist, and house, on which he threw up the 
 
 had a very good collection of pictures window and read the Riot Act. He 
 
 in his house in Picardy Place, and used had also a collection of teapots and 
 
 to say 'If any one wants gude picters, said (feeling tired of life, it must be 
 
 let him gang to Tours, for Sir John inferred), ' I weary of my seP, I weary 
 
 Dalrymple has been there and picket of a' things, I weary of my Sister, I 
 
 oot a' the bad yuns. ' He was very weary of my cats, but I never -weary 
 
 eccentric, and had several cats, two of of my ten teapots.' (J. F.) 
 them named Aminadab and Rebecca, 
 
i $6 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH . m 
 
 his beard, so you may imagine he is rather a picturesque 
 figure, not that I should like many to draw his picture in 
 his present state. 
 
 In the two letters which follow we find reference to Lady 
 Charlotte Campbell's novel, ' Conduct is Fate,' published 
 by Blackwood in 1820. If anyone pushes his spirit of 
 literary inquiry so far as to read it, he will probably think 
 that both Blackwood and Miss Ferrier were very lenient 
 critics. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh: January 18, 1820. 
 
 Madam, I have to apologise for not writing you sooner 
 with regard to the novel. 
 
 I have already mentioned to you the high opinion 
 I have of the talent displayed in it. I need not say 
 that, commercially speaking, I would be happy to publish 
 the work. At the same time I hope the author will 
 pardon me for the liberty I take in hinting that I feel con- 
 fident that she could very greatly improve the first volume 
 so as, in my humble opinion, to make it more acceptable to 
 British readers, who are not accustomed to a husband 
 knocking down his wife, nor yet to some other traits of 
 Continental manners. Of all this, however, an author, and 
 not a bookseller, is the best judge. If she is determined to 
 publish I shall be happy to take charge of the book, and 
 when I see the conclusion of the work I will let you know 
 what sum I could afford to offer for it. I have no doubt I 
 shall be able to arrange all this entirely to your satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 I am, madam, your respectful servant, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL (1820) 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 Your letter came very apropos for receiving an answer, 
 as I was going to have written you a line at any rate to 
 
CH. in GALT'S NOVELS 157 
 
 beg your acceptance of a copy of ' Conduct.' I believe it 
 is scarcely published yet, so I have no idea how it is to 
 take or what is to be said of it in the world ; but for my 
 own part I think there is a great deal of talent in it, though 
 not very well directed. Some of the descriptions are 
 beautiful, but there is too much of them to please the 
 generality of readers. Altogether I am not sanguine about 
 it, but I shall be very happy if it succeeds. My father did 
 not go to the election and seems to have no thought of 
 moving farther than Morningside, where he is always wish- 
 ing himself. . . 
 
 Jane had an attack of the bleeding of her nose while in 
 London, and the General had also been ailing, but they 
 had both recovered and set off for Norfolk l on a visit to 
 Lady Suffield, where I was glad to learn by a line from 
 Jane they had arrived safe and sound. It required some 
 spirit to pay a visit and renew an old acquaintance under 
 such circumstances, but they are both largely endowed 
 with locomotive powers. . . . The storm seems to be 
 awsome and appears to be endless ; last night was almost 
 as bad as any we have had nine trees blown down at 
 Morningside, the stack of chimneys of this house was dis- 
 covered to be hanging by a thread, and when it was 
 repairing one of the men was blown down, and would have 
 been precipitated to the street if he had not caught at 
 the skylight and smashed it to save himself, poor 
 creature ! In short, after having stood this winter, I shall 
 never speak of my nerves again. ... I really never lived 
 in such prof ~ound 'retirement. Except the Walkers and James 
 on Sundays we scarcely ever see a soul. ... I have not 
 read 'Sir Andrew Wyllie' as I can't endure that man's 
 writings, and I'm told the vulgarity of this beats print. 
 1 Adam Blair ' is powerfully written, but painful and dis- 
 agreeable to the greatest degree, and in other respects not 
 fit to be mentioned. 
 
 1 Blickling Hall, a very fine old by her father, the Earl of Bucking- 
 Tudor mansion, left to Lady Suffield hamshire. (J. F. ) 
 
158 ' INHERITANCE ' AND 'DESTINY 1 CH. m 
 
 The following letter from Mr. Blackwood no doubt 
 refers to the same offspring of Lady Charlotte's prolific 
 and rubbish-producing brain. 
 
 IV. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh: June 27, 1821. 
 
 Madam, The friend to whom I sent Lady Charlotte's 
 MS. has only just finished it, and I now send you 
 the third volume. I have been so much hurried since I 
 saw you that it has not been in my power to write at 
 length as I intended, but I will do either to-night or to- 
 morrow morning. 
 
 Your friend here will be wearying to hear about her 
 MS. I enclose you a note I had the other day from the 
 amanuensis. 
 
 I am, madam, 
 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Morningside : July 12, 1821. 
 
 My dear Janet, You must certainly think I am going 
 to figure at the Coronation from the sumptuous garment 
 you have sent me. I know not what has possessed you 
 all to take to the decking of my bare bones at such a rate, 
 I spend a great deal too much upon them myself, and it is 
 really grievous to see other people wasting their substance 
 upon them, especially those who have fair young bodies of 
 their own to clothe. I would say I was almost vexed to 
 think that Mr. Connell should have been throwing away 
 his money on finery for me, but I dare say you would not 
 believe me if I were to swear it. It seems so very improb- 
 able that one should be sorry to receive a very handsome 
 present from a person they like, but I really must say for 
 myself I am not a greedy creature, and I have already 
 had so many proofs of his and your generosity that any 
 additional ones are really more than superfluous. So 
 
CH. in LETTER TO MRS. CONNELL 159 
 
 much for my gratitude. As to my admiration, that is not 
 so easily expressed, as I think it is the handsomest silk I 
 ever saw, really beautiful, but too much so for me ; and as 
 for the quantity, there seems enough to make my father a 
 coat and waistcoat, let a be a. gown for me. In short, it is 
 quite a thing I would have chosen if I had been a rick, 
 handsome lady, but I think you might have made less 
 serve me. I was very happy to hear you had all enjoyed 
 your jaunt so much, and with such right feelings of being 
 happy while away and happier still to return ; it is not 
 always that people are happy and contented both ways. It 
 must have been a delightful tour, and you seem to have 
 quite creamed England. It must also have been a happy 
 meeting with Helen ; she writes in raptures of all of you, 
 and only laments having had so little of you, but I hope 
 next summer she will return your visit and pay us one. 
 Although it is so long since I have written you I don't 
 remember anything at all remarkable that has occurred in 
 the interim, indeed one day is so like another with me 
 that when I look back upon a few weeks or months I can 
 scarcely believe I have really lived them. I don't know 
 whether everybody seems to dream and idle away 
 existence as I do, but I certainly never have anything 
 either to tell or to show, so I fear I shall have a very bad 
 account to give at the last. Last Saturday, indeed, was a 
 remarkable day in my life, as I had a jaunt to Hawthorn- 
 den and dined there the first time for nearly three years 
 I have been so far from home ; but the Clerks of Session 
 had a dinner * and I took the opportunity of being gay too, 
 and so went with the Walkers to the woods and wilds of 
 Roslin and Hawthornden, and then dined at the Drum- 
 monds, and so spent a delightful day. That is like to be 
 
 1 The Clerks were Scott, Hector Walker used to do a good deal of 
 
 Macdonald Buchanan, Colin Macken- Scott's work in the Court while he 
 
 zie, James Ferrier, and James Walker was penning his romances, and for 
 
 (Dairy). A coach, called the Clerks' which kind service Scott presented 
 
 coach, used to call for them at their him with . a complete set of the 
 
 respective familv residence to take Waverley Novels. (J. F. ) 
 them to the Parliament House. Mr. 
 
l6o * INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' 
 
 CH. Ill 
 
 the extent of my travels this summer as my father seems 
 to have no intention of leaving home, and, indeed, I could 
 hardly expect it, as it would seem downright wastery to be 
 leaving our cow and our sheep and our berries and our 
 flowers to be wasting themselves upon the desert air. I 
 think the best time for him to visit now would be the 
 spring, when the Session rises, before coming out here, for 
 after he is fairly settled there is no getting him to move 
 so you must not look for us this season. As to my 
 promising a visit, you surely have very erroneous ideas of 
 my power if you think I could take upon me to promise 
 anything of the kind perhaps if I were to tease him very 
 much he might be wrought upon to consent but that I 
 never do and never will do for any purpose whatever, as I 
 think it much more fitting and reasonable that he should 
 have his way than I should have mine. We have had 
 many kind and pressing invitations to all the points of the 
 compass, I believe, but all were rejected with the same 
 answer, that he would go nowhere. Walter and his family 
 go off to Moffat to-morrow, and I hope the change will 
 prove of service to them all ; he seems very well himself at 
 present, but Mrs. F. and the children have been ill of 
 a sort of influenza, which has reduced them a little ; they 
 are very nice creatures, and my father will miss them 
 much, as they are just at his favourite age, and Agnes is 
 very amusing. We don't see so much of your youngsters as 
 we could wish, as they are busy all the week, and 'tis only 
 on a Saturday or Sunday they can come to us ; they seem 
 quite happy now and much more sociable and frank from 
 mixing with other girls. They seem very fine amiable 
 creatures, and I admire the strong attachment they have for 
 each other and the warmth they feel towards home, though 
 Mary certainly did carry her feelings (or rather allowed her 
 feelings to carry her) to a great excess ; but in youth I 
 would rather see too much than too little feeling. But the 
 one character certainly requires much more management 
 than the other, and if you are to keep them at home I 
 
CH. m DEATH OF MISS CLERK l6l 
 
 hope you will be fortunate in a governess, as I think 
 Mary would require one superior to the common run of 
 mere two handed animals that pretend to govern those who 
 are fitter to govern them. James l seems to give great satis- 
 faction in every way. His aunts quite dote upon him, and 
 Mr. Rae 2 speaks highly of his good behaviour and attention. 
 He is grown quite a man in his exterior, so you may be 
 prepared for a full sized gentleman. John takes up his 
 son James to Greenwich early next month, which I think 
 a good plan, as he really requires brushing up. I wish he 
 could hear of a good school in the North of England for 
 the other James F. 3 as he would also be the better of a 
 little polishing. Do you happen to know of any about 
 Carlisle or Penrith that are well spoken of? Helen has 
 signified to her grandfather that it is her mother's intention 
 to take her home the twenty-fifth of this month. I would 
 fain have had her remain another year with Mrs. Seton, as 
 she seems very fond of her. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Monday. 
 
 ... I was much struck with the notice I got of the 
 death of Miss Clerk 4 of Eldin, whom I saw but a few 
 weeks ago in her own house apparently in perfect health 
 and surrounded with all the eye could desire to look upon 
 of fine pictures, costly furniture, and all that was rich and 
 rare. But all in vain ! This is a very sombre strain of 
 writing, you will think, but it is a solemn subject, and one 
 I fear I do not think upon half so often as I ought to do, 
 and certainly it is not the prevailing topic of conversation 
 in this town at present, where Yeomanry balls and such 
 things are far more engrossing subjects. My father con- 
 tinues quite well and ready to resume his station at the 
 Clerk's table . . . 
 
 1 J. Connell. (J. F.) 4 Sister of Lord Eldin, the Edin- 
 
 2 His tutor. (J. F.) burgh judge, and one of the Penicuik 
 
 3 The son of Archibald Ferrier. family. (J. F.) 
 (J- F.) 
 
 M 
 
l62 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 9. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL (1822) 
 
 . . . The entry l was a finer and more gratifying sight 
 than the procession ; there was more pageantry, to be sure, 
 at the last, but the badness of the day and the dirtiness of 
 the streets very much spoiled the effect ; it was really 
 grievous to see the rain pouring upon white satin cloaks, 
 and pages wading through the mire in satin shoes. I hear 
 the King's equipage was by no means so splendid, and 
 he himself invisible to mortal eye ; there were no other 
 carriages in the procession, so neither judges nor clerks 
 nor anybody else had any part to play. Walter had 
 excellent windows provided, and the Connells enjoyed it 
 very much, as did also Cousin Mag, 2 though she was in 
 despair at not having seen the King, and I fear she is not 
 likely to be gratified now ; neither could she procure a 
 ticket to the Peers' Ball, which was the finest thing ever 
 was seen, only the peeresses mobbed his Majesty at least, 
 crowded him so much that he could not stand it. Mrs. 
 Graham went with me to see the Duchess of A. 3 dressed 
 for the Drawing-room. She was very splendid in French 
 white satin and tulle, embroidered with silver and diamonds 
 and all the rest of it, but I thought I had seen her more 
 beautiful when less gorgeous. She had an At Home the 
 other night, and pressed me to go ; but keep me from such 
 things ! She says never was anything seen like the 
 awkwardness and uncouthness of the novices at the Drawing- 
 room, which I can well believe, though I dare say they all 
 thought (Miss R. M. amongst others) 4 that they had 
 acquitted themselves to admiration. I was interrupted by 
 Cousin Mag, who came to spend the day, and is just gone 
 brimful of delight, having been at the Hunt Ball, patronised 
 
 1 Entry of George IV. into Edin- married H. W. Williams, the artist, 
 burgh, 1822. (J. F.) known as 'Grecian Williams'; he 
 
 2 Miss Wallace Ferrier. (J. F.) was much thought of in his time. 
 
 3 Argyll. (J. F. ) Many of his water-colours are in the 
 
 4 Miss Robina Millar (Earnock), Edinburgh Royal Academy. (J. F.) 
 
CH. in THE KING'S ENTRY 163 
 
 by Lady Rollo and squired by my Lord, and standing 
 within two of the King. Her brother l goes off to Cathlaw 
 to-morrow, but she remains a day or two longer to be 
 present at Miss Greig's 2 marriage to Macleod, a ten years' 
 engagement ; he has some property in the Highlands and 
 a good situation in India, but it must be a great struggle 
 to leave her frail father and mother. . . . We had Sir 
 Archibald Edmonstone and sister dining here on Saturday, 
 and D. 3 on Sunday overflowing with loyalty. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 . . . Mrs. John has been out, but is still far from well. 
 I saw her yesterday in the drawing-room, but she said she 
 was still rheumy and her pulse at 120. General Graham 
 has been confined to bed for a fortnight from the same 
 cause, and Mrs. Riddell's fever was a rheumatic one, but 
 last time I heard of her she was recovering. To add to 
 their misfortunes their house has been broken into and all 
 their bits of plate and linen taken away ; so much for the 
 miseries of human life, which seem to be all that I hear of 
 at present, though happily exempt from experiencing them, 
 as my father is in his usual robust health and I feel 
 stronger than I have done for some months. Our greatest 
 distress is how to dispose of our apples, but that seems also 
 an epidemic, and one which I dare say you have felt very 
 severely. The town is in a state of deathlike repose after 
 its late excitement, but as most of my friends happen to 
 be in it I find it particularly agreeable. I went with the 
 Fletchers one day to see Holyrood, and we thought black, 
 burning shame of ourselves for having been such gowks as 
 to go and look at a bare room and an old empty throne. The 
 presence chamber is just decent and no more, so you lost 
 
 1 Colonel Ferrier Hamilton, of Gort. (J. F.) 
 
 Westport ; he had a small and very 2 Her sister was Lady Rollo ; her 
 
 pretty property near Linlithgow, husband became Sir John Macleod. 
 
 Cathlaw by name. His wife was (J. F.) 
 a daughter of the first Viscount 3 Dalmeny Edmonstone. (J. F.) 
 
 M 2 
 
164 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 nothing there. . . . The weather is very broken and the 
 trees getting a very wintry aspect, but I have still a fine 
 show of flowers, and I feel no inclination to leave them, so 
 am not sorry to look forward to another month at Morning- 
 side. 
 
 We still keep our two little guests, who are a great 
 amusement to their grandfather at present, though in 
 another year they will have reached the snubbing age, and 
 then Thomas Henry will be in request. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 I have been suffering so much from headaches for 
 some time that I have almost resolved to give up writing 
 entirely ; however, I must write you a line in the meantime 
 to tell you so. I put on eight leeches lately in hopes they 
 would have relieved me, but they did me no good ; and 
 now the doctor wishes me to try some mineral water, so I 
 have written to Jane to send me some of the Airthrie 
 spring, which I would fain hope will clear away some of the 
 monstrous mass of hot rubbish which seems to fill my head 
 and makes me at times feel as if it were a burden on the 
 face of the earth. I find stooping very bad for me, so I 
 do nothing but read and hold up my head, and walk about 
 when the weather permits ... so don't wonder if I am 
 long of writing even short letters . . . as for me, I forget 
 everything I hear and have neither incidents nor ideas to 
 record. . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 January 14, 1823. 
 
 This is the first letter I have attempted this year, and 
 I believe I may add to that some weeks of the last one, so 
 I feel somewhat awkward at setting about it, as I think I 
 ought to have a great deal to say, and yet I fear I have 
 very little. ... I have been wholly taken up with my 
 father, who has had a slight inflammation in his eyes, 
 
CH. m LETTER TO MRS. CON NELL 165 
 
 which threw him out of all occupation ; but I am happy to 
 say it is quite gone, and he is now at the Court in his usual 
 health and good looks. When he heard you were ailing 
 he said the best thing you could do would be to come and 
 keep him company at the fireside, and I do hope we are 
 to see you (though not for that purpose) in the course of 
 next month. James l dined with us on Sunday, seemingly 
 in perfect health and, we all agreed, quite fat enough, 
 though it seems you and Aunt Bess are quite alarmed at 
 his thinness ; but everything is by comparison. I don't 
 suppose he looks very pretty alongside his father and 
 you . . . but he is a stout, fat man beside me. The Johns 
 are all well and very gay, I suppose, with Elizabeth's 2 
 marriage, which took place on New Year's day ; the pair 
 are to be here for some weeks, so there will be a deal of 
 revelry, I dare say ; he is really an uncommon, handsome, 
 genteel man, and has the character of being very clever 
 and amiable, so that emigration to Persia is the only draw- 
 back, and she seems to think nothing of it at present. 
 Julia Walker 3 is going to be married to Sir James Hall's 
 eldest son a match which seems to give great satisfaction 
 to both parties. I don't know him, but she is a very un- 
 spoilt creature to have been an only child, and reckoned a 
 beauty, though I never could discover her claims. I see 
 less of my friends Anne and Helen since they have em- 
 barked in the cares of housekeeping and visiting, which is 
 really a business of its own in this town, and no avoiding 
 it without offence. ... I am reading ' Peveril/ and like it, 
 as I do all that author's works for the imagination, wit, 
 and humour that pervade them. ' Osmond ' is very 
 finely written, though painful. To descend to birds of 
 another feather, your turkey was most excellent, and much 
 
 1 Connell. (J. F. ) married for his third wife Lady Emma 
 
 2 Elizabeth Wilson, Mrs. John Campbell, sister to the Duke of 
 Ferrier's youngest sister, married Dr. Argyll. ( J. F. ) 
 
 McNeill, afterwards Sir John McNeill, 3 Half-sister to her great friends, 
 
 envoy to the Court of Persia ; he died the Misses Walker. (J. F.) 
 at a very advanced age, 1888. He 
 
1 66 * INHERITANCE ' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 applauded by all who partook. Many years may you rear 
 turkeys, and we eat them! This is a modest way of 
 returning thanks, you'll say ! 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 I have much to answer for to you, but I trust you will 
 give me credit for having had more to do than I have time 
 to tell. Our dear father's illness occupied me entirely both 
 in mind and body for some time, and I assure you I often 
 wished for your assistance ; he was low and apprehensive 
 for some days, but happily I was not alarmed, as it never 
 appeared to me that his illness was anything else than the 
 epidemic cold which has been so prevalent here, and so it 
 has proved. He is somewhat thinner than when you saw 
 him, but otherwise looking well ; he both eats and sleeps 
 well, and you may judge of his strength when I tell you 
 that a few days ago we drove as far as Dalmeny Park and 
 all through the grounds, went over the house, did not get 
 home till five, when I was quite worn out, and he was so 
 little fatigued that he played two long tough rubbers with 
 Mrs. H. and D., and carved a still tougher fowl for their 
 supper with great glee. Yesterday he walked about 
 Morningside for upwards of an hour, and James will tell 
 you he seemed nothing the worse for it at dinner. He is 
 now very impatient to be settled there, so we are to move 
 to-morrow, and I don't think even a fall of snow will stop 
 him. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 My dear Janet, I blushed at the sight of the bag of 
 meal, which I ought to have withstood when you proposed 
 sending it ; but I stupidly forgot to say anything about it, 
 and so my silence was mistaken for consent. I am really 
 sorry Mr. C. should have deprived himself of any of his 
 small store, and beg he will never do so again, as I assure 
 
CH. in LETTER TO MRS. CONNELL l6/ 
 
 you we are very well supplied by our Commissary General 
 Buckstone. 
 
 In the meantime we eat yours with great zest, and I 
 doubt if the shearer who cut, or the miller who ground it, 
 makes a heartier breakfast than my father does upon it 
 every morning ; he is indeed perfectly well, and very im- 
 patient to be at his rural avocations at Morningside, though 
 the weather is by no means inviting ; however, we are to 
 march next Tuesday if the wind and rain permit. We 
 were both disappointed at not seeing you here this winter, 
 but you must have felt thankful you were safe at home, 
 and not exposed to the same jeopardy as the Carlisle 
 travellers. I was glad to hear from James they had not 
 been the worse of their adventure. We are all going on 
 here much as usual, Mrs. Walter making little progress, I 
 am sorry to say ; but when the weather settles and she 
 can get out, I would fain hope she may gain some strength. 
 Walter has been colded and bileish, but upon the whole I 
 think better than usual, and the children all quite well. 
 The Johns are in perfect preservation except Eleanor, who 
 looks thin and yellow, but I dare say will rally when the 
 summer comes round. She will be very handsome if she 
 gets fat and blooming. 1 
 
 . . . James won't allow there is such a thing as beauty 
 to be seen in all Edinburgh. Anne Walker told me she 
 had got him an heiress for a partner at her brother's dance, 
 but she had found no favour in his sight, it seems. She 
 has been very poorly of late, and as for Helen, she has 
 half killed herself working for the charity sales. I went to 
 them, but the mob was so great I could see little or 
 nothing, and bought nothing but monstrosities of screens. 
 I send you a slight cap which was made from one of Mrs. 
 Fletcher's, which I thought looked well ; but perhaps you 
 may not like it, as there is nothing so ticklish as choosing 
 caps for others. Lady John 2 has been in the very jaws of 
 
 1 Eleanor Ferrier, married, 1843, Leith, Bart. (J. F.) 
 George Leith, Esq., son of Sir George 2 Lady John Campbell. (J. F. ) 
 
1 68 ' INHERITANCE ' AND * DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 death, but has got out of them, and is now very well. I 
 forget whether I sent you Lady Charlotte's book of prayers, 
 which I think far superior to her novels, and highly 
 creditable both as compositions and as showing so much 
 Biblical research. Our good neighbours are in their usual 
 glee, and dine with us regularly once a week forbye 
 occasional evening visits, so we shall miss them much at 
 Morningside. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 (Endorsed ' per favour of Mr. J. F. Terrier's 1 Fish-basket.') 
 
 Morningside. 
 
 I think it very doubtful if this ever reaches you, as it is to 
 go in a fisherman's creel, which I don't take to be the safest 
 of conveyances. However, as it won't be worth &/., it is 
 as well to let it take its chance, and if it should land with 
 the trout, I wish them much good of it. My father has 
 got so well since we came here that he is not like the same 
 person he was in winter ; except being a little deaf, and not 
 quite so active as he used to be some years ago, I should 
 say he was as well as ever he was. The weather has been 
 charming ever since we came here, and we both almost 
 live out of doors. We have got a gardener not so old as 
 the hills, but as old as this place, for he talks of what he 
 did five-and-fifty years ago as if it were an affair of yester- 
 day. He does very well notwithstanding, but as he is 
 somewhat stiff at the sowing, I have to take that in hand 
 myself, and have done nothing but make round patches 
 and stick sticks in them for a month past, and still am not 
 near done. Tell Helen of all things to sow large beds and 
 long rows of dwarf rocket larkspur ; there is nothing makes 
 a garden look so brilliant. The Grahams went off this 
 day week, and the General returned to town on Friday 
 Jane says to get a warm, he says upon divers bits of 
 
 1 Miss Ferrier's nephew, the late Professor Ferrier, when young, used 
 to be often at Conheath. (J. F.) 
 
CH.,111 ANNE WALKER'S BOOKS 169 
 
 business. One of them he is gone upon to-day is to bury 
 his old friend, Sir H. Macdougal, 1 who will be a great loss 
 to him. . . . We have returned to our old courses in seeing 
 nobody and having somebody at dinner almost every day ; 
 but who they are I cannot tell, as I never see the face of a 
 stranger or hear a syllable of news. Anne Walker has 
 just been here straight from her brother Frank's, 2 where 
 she has been spending some days with a bride and bride- 
 groom 3 Miss Connell and Mr. Knatchbull ; she says he is 
 very handsome, and has 5oo/. a year, so for a poor plainish 
 miss it is no bad match. . . . Have you read ' Common 
 Events ? ' 4 I think it very clever and amusing as well as 
 profitable, and it seems to be better liked than ' Rich and 
 Poor.' I am become a member of a book club, so I buy 
 no new books now ; but I don't think our association will 
 last long, as nobody seems pleased. My complaint is that 
 there are more books bought than I can find time to read, 
 and very few that are worth reading. . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Wednesday. 
 
 Mr. C. has charged me to write to you, otherwise I 
 would rather have delayed it, as I feel myself particularly 
 stupid at present the effects, I flatter myself, of a cold 
 which, however, is now on the decline. You will be happy 
 to hear that our dear father is now quite recovered from a 
 pretty severe cold he had had for some weeks, but, thank 
 God, he is now perfectly well. He was at the Court 
 yesterday, and the doctor, who has just been here taking 
 leave, says he may now do what he likes, for that he is 
 done with him ; in short, he is now quite himself again and 
 
 1 Sir Henry Macdougal, of Mac- 2 Sir Francis Walker Drummond ; 
 
 kerston, co. Roxburgh. He came he married the heiress of Hawthorn- 
 
 into the world twenty years after his den. ( J. F. ) 
 
 sister, who was long considered the 3 Daughter of Sir John Connell, 
 
 heiress of the property, thereby cut- judge of the Admiralty at Edinburgh, 
 
 ting her out of it. She married Scott, (J. F.) 
 
 of Gala, to whose family it has now 4 By Anne Walker. Rich and 
 
 returned. (J. F.) Poor was also by her. (J. F.) 
 
I/O ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY * CH. m 
 
 looking as fresh and well as ever. ... I every day feel a 
 greater repugnance to forming new acquaintances, as I'm 
 long past forming new friendships, and I feel it a tax to 
 visit people whom I don't care for, having so many dear 
 intimates to associate with. The Walkers are at present 
 in Fife, but are to be home soon to a house of their own, a 
 measure which has been long in contemplation and will be 
 much more comfortable for them. . . . 
 
 We have seen already how, prompted by the success 
 of * Marriage,' Blackwood stirred up Miss Ferrier to further 
 efforts by quoting the appeal made to her by the writer 
 of 'Waverley.' Miss Ferrier was nowise backward in 
 answering to the call, and by 1823 ' Inheritance' was suffi- 
 ciently advanced for her to open negotiations with a 
 publisher. After an abortive negotiation with Mr. Murray, 
 the copyright of ' Inheritance,' like that of its predecessor, 
 was made over to Mr. Blackwood, but not until he raised 
 his offer for it from five hundred pounds to double that 
 sum. 
 
 JOHN FERRIER TO S. E. F. 
 
 London: April 18, 1823. 
 
 I called for Mr. Murray to-day and was received very 
 graciously when he understood the business I had come to 
 him upon. He talks of * Marriage ' in the most flattering 
 terms, and says he will be proud to be the publisher of 
 another work by the same author, and in so far as any one 
 can judge on so slight an acquaintance it appears to me 
 that he is open and candid and much of a gentleman in his 
 manner and appearance. He says if he got a perusal of 
 the MS. or such parts of it as may be written, that he will 
 at once give his proposal of terms. In short, he appears to 
 me to be the man, as he dwelt upon the great talent of the 
 author of ' Marriage ' in such a manner as would make me 
 think he will give liberally for its successor. It would be 
 desirable if you could send up a volume while I am here 
 so as Mr. M - might peruse it and send it back by me. 
 
CH. in TERMS FOR 'INHERITANCE* I/I 
 
 JOHN FERRIER TO S. E. F. 
 
 London : May 7, 1823. 
 
 My dear Susan, I have only time to inclose a note 
 frpm Mr. Murray along with your MS. which I shall take 
 special care of. If you wish me to do anything more here 
 you will need to write me in course of post, or I shall 
 certainly be off early on the next morning, Friday next, 
 if not sooner. 
 
 There does not seem to be any occasion for haste, and 
 therefore it may be best to do nothing more until we meet. 
 In the meanwhile the formal communication, so far as I can 
 judge, is of an agreeable nature. 
 
 Yours ever affectionately, 
 
 J- F - 
 
 Indorsement. The negotiation with Mr. Murray was 
 broken off at Mr. Blackwood's earnest intreaty and upon 
 his assuring me it would be a serious injury to him as a 
 publisher if I gave the work to another. It would have 
 been well for me if my feelings had not prevailed over my 
 self interest. 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO JOHN FERRIER 
 
 Edinburgh : September 19, 1823. 
 
 Dear Sir, I hereby agree to give the sum you mention 
 as the price of Miss Ferrier's work, viz. one thousand 
 pounds sterling 1 to be settled for by a bill at twelve 
 months from date of publication. 
 
 The work to be in three volumes, and the second and 
 third it is understood will extend to about 360 MS. pages 
 each, similar to the first volume in my possession. 
 I am, dear sir, yours truly, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 1 Five hundred was the sum originally offered by Mr. B. and refused. 
 (S. E. F.) 
 
' INHERITANCE ' AND * DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 P.S. I now return the first volume of the MS., the 
 portion of the second volume I have at home, and it will 
 be sent to-morrow. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 P. S. : Saturday. 
 
 Madam, I cannot go home without telling you how 
 much I have been delighted with all the packet you have 
 just sent me. 
 
 I intreat of you to go on, and to have no advisers but 
 your own heart and feelings. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Friday evening. 
 
 Madam, Before I gave the MS. to the copier I read 
 the whole of it, and I cannot help telling you how much I 
 have been delighted with it. You have only to go on 
 trusting wholly to yourself, and you will very soon be at 
 the end of your labours. 
 
 I am, madam, yours very respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Princes Street : Friday night, ten o'clock. 
 
 Madam, The sheet which I now send you I have read 
 with even more pleasure than when I first perused this 
 portion in MS. I am sure you will not have a letter to 
 obliterate here. 
 
 W. B. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. . F. 
 
 One o'clock. 
 
 Madam, This sheet is excellent. You will see that 
 there are two pages wanted to complete it. The printers 
 have delayed it too long. Be so good as to give my son 
 whatever MS. ; you have ready and he will instantly return 
 with it to the printers. You need not keep him to correct 
 
OH. in BLACKWOOD ON ' INHERITANCE " 173 
 
 this sheet, as he will ride out again with the sheet com- 
 pleted if you give him the MS. Do not mind my sending 
 out again as I can perfectly spare him. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 W. B. 
 
 All the sheets that are printed off are to be sent off by 
 the steamboat to-morrow morning, and the others I shall 
 send by mail coach, so as to publish in London in the 
 beginning of next week. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Monday morning. ' 
 
 Madam, I am almost sorry when I ought to be glad now 
 that I send you the end. I have had more enjoyment and 
 pleasure in the progress of your work for the last twelve 
 months than I have ever had in any that have passed 
 through my hands. 
 
 I am now as impatient to have it fairly afloat as I was 
 to have it concluded, being confident that there will only 
 be one opinion of its merits. 
 
 I am, madam, yours respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Madam, You have introduced Uncle Adam most 
 happily, and I lost not a moment in sending it to the 
 printers when I had read it. There is a hurried and 
 breathless kind of interest in these last chapters which 
 keeps the mind of the reader in almost as feverish a state 
 as that of your heroine. She is indeed a heroine, and in 
 my humble opinion the only one I recollect of in modern 
 works that one could care much about. 
 
 You are in such a vein for it just now that I hope you 
 have been able to shut yourself up to-day and not be dis- 
 turbed by the Saturday's young folks. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 W. B. 
 
174 'INHERITANCE' AND ' DESTINY* CH . m 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Princes Street : Monday. 
 
 Madam, On Saturday I lent in confidence to a very 
 clever person, upon whose discretion I can rely, the two 
 volumes of ' The Inheritance.' This morning I got them 
 back with the following note : 
 
 < My dear Sir, I am truly delighted with " The Inheri- 
 tance." I do not find as yet any one character quite equal 
 to "Dr. Redgill" except perhaps the good-natured old 
 tumbled l maiden but as a novel it is a hundred miles 
 above " Marriage." It reminds me of Miss Austen's very 
 best things in every page, and if the third volume be like 
 these, no fear of success triumphant. Yours &c.' 
 
 I could not resist sending you this, and I hope you will 
 be pleased with it, and drive on to your conclusion with 
 full confidence in your own powers. 
 
 I send you another sheet. I sent one on Saturday 
 night to George Street, but I have not got it back. 
 I am, madam, yours respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Salisbury Road : Tuesday evening. 
 
 Madam, I sent to George Street before three the con- 
 clusion of the second volume, and I expect my son will 
 be able to send to the post-office to-night the first sheet of 
 volume III. 
 
 I had not time till now to read the two new chapters, 
 and I wanted merely to tell you how much I have been 
 delighted with them particularly the last one. Lyndsay 
 is admirably brought out, and you have only to go on as 
 you are going to sustain the character which Sir Walter 
 gave me of * Marriage,' that you had the rare talent of 
 making your conclusion even better than your commence- 
 ment, ' for,' said this worthy and veracious person, ' Mr. 
 
 1 Altera lectio, ' troubled.' The writing is indistinct. 
 
CH. in BLACKWOOD ON 'INHERITANCE' 175 
 
 Blackwood, if ever I were to write a novel, I would like to 
 write the two first volumes and leave anybody to write the 
 third that liked.' 
 
 I am, madam, yours, respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD 7O S. E. F. 
 
 Princes Street : Saturday, three o'clock. 
 
 Madam, Nothing can be better than the way in which 
 you have managed with Gertrude and Lyndsay, and with 
 Lyndsay and Lewiston particularly. Lyndsay 's character 
 rises in every new scene, and Gertrude's feelings are ad- 
 mirably brought out, and her whole character is supported 
 in the most interesting way possible. I have not the least 
 doubt of your managing the Colonel with the same tact, 
 and winding the whole story up in a way that will, I am 
 quite confident, place your work along side of those of the 
 author of * Waverley.' 
 
 Do not, I beg of you, think for one moment that I am 
 saying anything but what I most sincerely feel. I merely 
 wish to have the pleasure of first telling you what I am 
 certain will be said by those whose opinion will be of more 
 consequence than, 
 
 Madam, your very respectful servant, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 Edinburgh: June II, 1824. 
 
 Madam, You must by this time have heard that all I 
 said of ' The Inheritance ' from the first has been confirmed 
 by the opinions of those whose opinion is of some value. 
 On Wednesday I dined in company with Sir Walter Scott, 
 and he spoke of the work in the very highest terms. I do 
 not always set the highest value on the Baronet's favourable 
 opinion of a book, because he has so much kindness of 
 feeling towards everyone, but in this case he spoke so much 
 con amore^ and entered so completely, and at such a length 
 
176 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH . m 
 
 to me, into the spirit of the book and of the characters, 
 that showed me at once the impression it had made on 
 him. Everyone I have seen who have read the book 
 gives the same praise to it. 
 
 Two or three days ago I had a note from a friend, 
 which I copy : 
 
 ' I have nearly finished a volume of "The Inheritance." 
 It is unquestionably the best novel of the class of the 
 present day in so far as I can yet judge. Lord Rossville, 
 Adam Ramsay, Bell Black and the Major, Miss Pratt and 
 Anthony Why te are capital, and a fine contrast to each other. 
 It is, I think, a more elaborate work than " Marriage," 
 better told, with greater variety, and displaying improved 
 powers. I congratulate you, and have no doubt the book 
 will make a prodigious sough' 
 
 I do not know a better judge, nor a more frank and 
 honest one, than the writer of this note. 
 
 I am, madam, yours respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 We have, unhappily, no record of the process of obser- 
 vation and construction by which ' Inheritance ' was built 
 up such as we have in the case of ' Marriage.' We do 
 know, indeed, that one scene, the happiest perhaps of all 
 the author's ventures in the comedy of incident, was 
 taken from an actual episode in the history of the Ferrier 
 family. Shortly after the appearance of ' Inheritance ' a 
 niece of Miss Ferrier's wrote thus : 
 
 We are all delighted with * The Inheritance/ which is 
 read aloud in the evening, although most of us have read it 
 before. We are come to Miss Pratt's extraordinary arrival 
 in a hearse. I mentioned some people objected to that as 
 being overdrawn. Uncle Walter (Mr. Walter Ferrier) said 
 he had heard so too, but he mentioned a circumstance some- 
 thing of the same nature that had happened to himself. 
 During the severe winter, several years ago, he was return- 
 ing in the mail from Dumfries to Edinburgh during one of 
 
CH. in ORIGIN OF THE HEARSE INCIDENT 177 
 
 the dreadful storms, and was one of the few who insisted on 
 the mail going on, which it did, till it came to one of the 
 Moffat hills, where it was totally unable to proceed. In 
 this dilemma his ear was caught by piercing cries, and 
 on looking behind was a hearse drawn by six or eight 
 horses stopped in the same manner, and the screams came 
 from it. The desolation around, where nothing but snow 
 was to be seen, and a lowering winter sky, the sombre 
 appearance of this vehicle of death, and the cries altogether 
 filled him with awe and horror. Upon inquiring what it 
 was he found out it was some poor soldiers' wives and 
 children, who were thankful to get this conveyance, which 
 was a hearse sent from Edinburgh with somebody who 
 was to be buried in that part of the country and was now 
 returning, but upon finding themselves in this state the 
 poor creatures had begun to scream and cry. They pro- 
 vided for them and the other passengers in the mail as well 
 as they could, and those who were anxious to go on got 
 the horses taken out and rode on them. 
 
 Uncle Walter got one of the hearse horses to ride. 
 
 S. E.\F. TO MRS. KIN LOCH 
 
 Morningside : Saturday, 1823. 
 
 My dear Helen, Although I certainly was hurt at the 
 idea of your having divulged the secret of my authorship, 
 yet I cannot bear that another work of mine should be 
 announced to you by any but myself. John has now com- 
 pleted a bargain for me with Mr. Blackwood by which I 
 am to have one thousand pounds for a novel l now in hand, 
 but which is not nearly finished, and possibly never may 
 be. Nevertheless, he is desirous of announcing it in his 
 magazine, and therefore I wish to prepare you for the 
 shock. I can say nothing more than I have already said 
 on the subject of silence, if not of secrecy. All that I 
 
 1 The Inheritance. (J. F. ) 
 
 N 
 
i;8 * INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH . m 
 
 require of my friends is to answer impertinent interroga- 
 tories by saying that as / don't acknowledge it, nobody 
 else has a right to say it's mine, that is surely no untruth ; 
 but as to giving it to any other person, that I neither 
 require or desire. I never will avow myself, and nothing 
 can hurt or offend me so much as any of my friends doing 
 it for me ; this is not f 'agon de parler, but my real and un- 
 alterable feeling. I could not bear the fuss of authorism ! 
 You may judge how well my secret has been kept in some 
 quarters when I tell you that neither Helen Graham nor 
 Margaret F. (York Place) have the least suspicion of it. I 
 fear that brat Eleanor may do me some mischief ; she is so 
 inquisitive to know what I am writing, and this house is so 
 small, it is very ill-calculated for concealment. As for the 
 money, I'm surprised how little I care about it, but I have 
 no desire to die a rich old aunt and leave a post behind me 
 like poor Moll. The account of her remains was really 
 tempting. Such [piece of letter cut here'] and Goupins 
 of gold ! No wonder that he [Mr. Alexr. Connell is here 
 meant] was ' neither to haud nor to bind ' at getting 
 nothing, and I understand he was quite in a passion at the 
 reading of the will. I wish she had left his sisters some- 
 thing more. I had Mdlle. Le Chaux spending a day with 
 me on her return to Switzerland. She is to send me a 
 French copy of * Marriage ' to your care, which you will 
 forward to me. 1 I had a long visit of the Man of Feeling 
 t'other day very infirm in body, but as gay and spirituel 
 as ever. We had also a grand dinner-party, as the c Globe ' 
 calls it the Forbeses, 2 Monros, and Miss Mackenzie, who is 
 an enchanting creature ; but, nevertheless, I hate ' grand 
 dinners.' Mrs. John and Babe are bravely ; it is a nice fat 
 little thing, the picture of its grandfather. They are at a 
 loss what to call it. I propose William, but she seems to 
 like Henry better. . . . Don't be uneasy though it should 
 
 1 The Inheritance was also trans- 2 Lord Medwyn and Mrs. Forbes, 
 
 lated into French by the same person Professor and Mrs. Monro of Craig- 
 who translated Scott' novels. (J. F.) lockhart. (J. F.) 
 
CH. m SUCCESS OF 'INHERITANCE' 179 
 
 be weeks before you hear from me again ; this is to serve as 
 an answer to your next letter. 
 
 The following letters show that Miss Ferrier did not 
 pay for the popularity of ' Marriage ' by any reaction 
 against its successor. 
 
 MRS. CONNELL TO S. E. F. 
 
 Conheath House : June 21, 1824. 
 
 My dear Susan, I congratulate you most sincerely on 
 the happy termination of your labours. ' The Inheritance ' 
 is delightful and certainly does great credit to both the head 
 and heart of the author. I cannot presume to analyse it, 
 but upon the whole I never felt more interested in any book 
 than I have been by this. James l lived upon it as long as 
 it lasted, and the girls are charmed. Mary and Sue think 
 there ought to have been five volumes, and my only dis- 
 appointment is the third is so many pages shorter than the 
 others. However, I shall just begin and read it over again, 
 as a first reading is always hurried. The Misses have 
 dubbed me Mrs. Black, but unfortunately we have no 
 Major Waddell, otherwise I think I should come best off. 
 Helen and Anne dined at Cowhill, on Friday 2 when one 
 lady at the other end of the table from them spoke of it 
 as superior to * Marriage,' and said it was either by Miss 
 Campbell of Monzie or Miss Ferrier. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Wednesday. 
 
 Your letter, my dear Janet, was extremely gratifying, 
 and I take shame to myself for not having acknowledged 
 it sooner. I am very glad you all liked ' The Inheritance ' 
 so much. It seems to have been wonderfully successful, 
 but both Sir Walter and Mr. Mackenzie took it by the 
 hand at the very first, which of course gave it a lift. 
 Nevertheless the author will not confess nor allow any of 
 
 1 Her son. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Residence of Admiral Johnstone, near Dumfries. (J. F. ) 
 
 N 2 
 
180 ' INHERITANCE ' AND < DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 her friends to do it for her. Everybody knows who the 
 characters are, but no two people can agree about them. 
 I have heard of five or six Lord Rossvilles and as many 
 Miss Pratts, and Lady John Camp l signs herself Mrs. 
 Major Waddell on account of her care of her husband, 
 which she says is her to the very life. In short, whenever 
 characters are at all natural they are immediately set down 
 for being personal, which is a grievance. I think ' Red 
 Gauntlet' extremely interesting, and the ghost story 
 delicious, to say nothing of my bonnie Willie and Peter 
 Peebles, who are inimitable. It will be particularly popular, 
 I should think, in Dumfriesshire on account of its locality. 
 I am happy to say my father continues in great health and 
 good spirits, and I feel better than I did ; but as to our 
 going from home, at my father's time of life, and with his 
 habits, travelling would no longer be a recreation or amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 MRS. KINLOCH TO S. E. F. 
 
 Brunswick Square : June 23. 
 
 ... I am enchanted with ' Inheritance,' and you must 
 be sensible that it turns the ' Red Gauntlet ' quite pale ; 
 there's no comparison, and it's neither partiality nor flattery 
 that makes me say so. It sells much better, the booksellers 
 say, and is altogether a very superior work. 2 Mr. K. 
 says he prefers it infinitely to ' Marriage,' and there he is at 
 it till two o'clock in the morning weighing every word and 
 sentence. He was impatient to get home from Mrs. 
 Edmonstone's grand ball last night to finish a volume, 
 while I was so weary I could hardly pull my things off. I 
 felt a little nervous till I read a few chapters, so seldom do 
 things answer our expectations, and so many failures are 
 daily occurring in the literary way, witness ' Trials ' by the 
 
 1 Lady John Campbell (nee Miss described in her letters. 
 Glassel), mother of the present Duke 2 It is not altogether surprising that 
 
 of Argyll. She was a favourite pupil Miss Ferrier did not exchange many 
 
 of Mrs. Grant, of Laggan, and is literary confidences with her sisters. 
 
CH. in ' INHERITANCE ' l8l 
 
 * Favorite of Nature,' l such trials to be sure to read such 
 stuff ! And yet what a beautiful thing the ' Favorite ' is. 
 But you have outdone yourself and come off with flying 
 colours, and I hope your health will improve now it is off 
 your mind. . . . 
 
 MRS. GRAHAM TO S. E. F. 
 
 Stirling Castle : June 19. 
 
 Well, my dear Susan, I have finish'd it, and I am 
 delighted and so glad I did not read it piecemeal ; it came 
 with such freshness. I truly enjoyed it. The faults, if 
 there are any, are lost amidst so much talent, and I have 
 read nothing like it for many a day. The interest is great 
 and rises with 'every volume, and though one is sorry when 
 the curtain drops, yet one retires quite satisfied from the 
 banquet. The strain of religion and morality through it is 
 refreshing, not wearisome like some of the late novels ; in 
 short, we are all charmed with it. Miss Rutherfurd 2 dreams 
 of nothing but Edward. Helen's 3 favourite chapter is Miss 
 Pratt issuing from the hearse. The general was in fits at 
 Uncle Adam, who is truly rich, and there are so many 
 beauties, and so much fine writing I can scarcely select any 
 one, but I was greatly struck with the first interview between 
 the sisters, and the scene at the cottage is capital. I hear 
 there are extracts from it and a most flattering, or rather 
 favourable, critique in the ' Courant ' . . . . We had a dinner 
 party yesterday, Lord and Lady Abercromby and their 
 daughter, who, by-the-bye, is a beautiful and sweet girl, 
 and the Tytlers. Colonel T. asked me if I had seen ' The 
 Inheritance,' as there was such a favourable account of it. 
 I said I had. How did I like it? Very much indeed. 
 Did I know who was the author ? No, I do not. Lady 
 A., who was at the other end of the table, look'd up and 
 gave me such a stare, but said nothing. There was a sort 
 
 1 By Mary Anne Kelty. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Sister of Lord Rutherfurd, a judge of the Court of Session, Edinburgh. 
 .(J. F. ) 3 Her daughter. (J. F. ) 
 
1 82 * INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 of titter went round, and as none of them had read it, 
 the conversation launched into other channels ; but Miss 
 Johnstone, ' who dined here two days since, told Helen it 
 was in every house in Edinburgh, and the author as well 
 known as if the name were prefixed to it. I was aware of 
 what you say about lending and had determined not to 
 do it. It is unfair to all parties to the author and the 
 publisher, and there is a little man here who gets the new 
 books in whose way I should be sorry to stand. Mrs. 
 Cameron, 2 who was very impatient for it, was to get it 
 from him. . . . What a disgusting mind and imagination 
 the author of ' Mathew Wald ' 3 must possess. He is only 
 fit to write in the * Terrific Register '. . . . 
 
 FROM THE HON. LORD MURRAY* TO MISS WALKER 
 
 122 George Street : Wednesday evening. 
 
 Dear Miss Walker, I received a message this evening 
 about the admission of some person into the West Church 
 poor house. I am unable to give you any aid in that, as 
 I am not a member of the session and never attend its 
 meetings. I was about to write to you on another subject. 
 Indeed I have been prevented by absence from town from 
 doing so long ago. I received a copy of ' Inheritance ' in 
 the name of the author, and as I do not know who the 
 author zs y and I suspect that you know more than I do> 
 I trust that you will find some channel through which you 
 will convey my thanks. I read ' Inheritance ' with very 
 great pleasure, the characters are very well conceived and 
 delineated with great success. I may add that I have 
 heard it highly commended by much better judges. 
 Jeffrey speaks very favourably ; he is particularly pleased 
 with the Nabob (Major) and Spouse, the letter from the 
 lakes, and the P.S. to it. Lord Gwydyr, who lives entirely 
 
 1 Miss Johnstone, of Alva, after- 3 By J. G. Lockhart (1824). 
 wards Mrs. Hamilton Grey. (J. F.) 4 A judge of the Court of Session. 
 
 2 Lord Abercromby's sister. (J. F.) (J. F.) 
 
CH. in * INHERITANCE ' 183 
 
 in fashionable circles, said to me much in its praise, in 
 which I concurred. 
 
 From many other symptoms I have no doubt of its 
 complete success. With best compliments to Miss Helen, 
 Believe me, ever yours truly, 
 
 JOHN A. MURRAY. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF ARGYLL TO S. E. F. 
 
 Waterloo Hotel : Saturday evening. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, You have been so kind in 
 taking so much trouble for me, my books, and my baskets, 
 that I hardly know how to thank you for it. I only hope 
 you will not hate me as much as people generally do those 
 who give them commissions, though I was not quite as 
 unreasonable as the Lady in ' Inheritance.' Did you ever 
 read that book ? 
 
 You make a very good selection for us, and they are all 
 new to us. I am very willing to accept you as a middle 
 man, but you forgot to tell me what I am in your debt for 
 these very perfect baskets, and I am not going to rob you 
 of them. The Duke is very happy you admire his hand- 
 writing, and has sent you two beautiful specimens. I 
 hope you were none the worse for your cold walk to-day 
 or for my minced collops^ We set off, I hope, early to- 
 morrow, as we propose sleeping at Belford. The Duke is 
 so well, I am happy, and desires his kind remembrances to 
 you, and believe me ever, 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 CAROLINE ARGYLL. 
 
 1 A favourite dish of Miss Ferrier's. mended to her as a very decent body, 
 
 (J. F. ) I fear there is no convincing replied, ' Damn her decency ; can she 
 
 evidence to identify her with the old cook collops ? ' 
 lady who, when a cook was recom- 
 
1 84 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' 
 
 MADEMOISELLE DE LA CHAUX* TO S. E. F. 
 
 Yverdun : August 20, 1825. 
 
 At last, dear Miss Ferrier, I have obtained possession 
 of the long wished for book ! I cannot say how delighted 
 I have been on reading it. For this year past I was led 
 by the nose by the vain promises of Paris and Geneva 
 booksellers, and finally applied to the fountain head of all 
 good things, London, by means of a friend, and I got a 
 copy of the second edition. I observed the proof of success 
 with exultation, though I already had read in several 
 periodical works the most favourable account and extracts 
 of it announcing a translation ' to be speedily published,' 
 but of this I am not sure after having been deceived about 
 that of ' Marriage.' I read ' The Inheritance ' during a short 
 stay on the Jura, two or three leagues above Yverdun. The 
 situation was not unworthy, I thought, of this pursuit. I was 
 with my friend, Madame Huber, who has known English 
 from her childhood, her mother being an Englishwoman, 
 and she enjoyed your work con amore, I assure you. We 
 were both deeply in love with Uncle Adam, thought Miss 
 Pratt abundantly provoking, Gertrude one of the most in- 
 teresting heroines produced since the time of Evelina, be- 
 cause she was only sufficiently handsome, accomplished, 
 and amiable not to be above mortal, and quite unfortunate 
 enough to have had Mrs. St. Clair for her supposed mother. 
 I found Lord Rossville very like a friend of mine, and 
 several English people told me it must be a portrait from 
 nature. But I fear you will think all these observations 
 very commonplace and beneath your notice since you have 
 had those of the great wits and geniuses laid humbly at 
 
 1 This lady, a native of Switzerland, him to get back to his native land; 
 
 had been governess in the family of otherwise he might have been detained 
 
 Lady A. Clavering, and when Lord a prisoner by Napoleon. But for 
 
 John Campbell was there in the year her presence of mind, he would 
 
 1803 with his travelling companion, certainly have been among the 
 
 Dr. Argyll Robertson, she disguised detenus, as Marshal Ney had sent 
 
 him in her clothes, &c., to enable an officer to seize him. (J. F.) 
 
en. m LETTER FROM MADEMOISELLE DE LA CHAUX 185 
 
 your feet ! Of course Mr. Ferrier has been one of the 
 first to testify his approbation, and with a due share of 
 pride very enviable for a father. I suppose you under- 
 stand what I mean, though my English is a little doubtful 
 now and then. Perhaps Miss E. M. has told you it was 
 my intention to go to England in autumn to pay a con- 
 doling visit to my friend at Waddon, who has lost a most 
 amiable sister, and one whom I loved and esteemed very 
 particularly. It will be a great privation to me to be in 
 the house where her presence was so essential. I hope 
 your venerable father continues to wear well and allows 
 years to pass over his head as though they were zephyrs. 
 Pray remember me to him as one who never forgets his 
 constant friendliness and wishes much to see him again. I 
 have fixed October as the time of my setting out for 
 England, as Mr. Baillie, my former travelling companion, 
 offers to take me again under his protection. If I don't 
 hear from you before, I trust I shall when at Waddon, near 
 Croydon^ Surrey. I am particularly anxious to know how 
 you are in health. The long absence of my friend, Miss 
 E. M., from Edinburgh has deprived me of the advantage 
 of hearing of you through her letters. I owe an answer to 
 Mrs. Fletcher, and when you see her I wish you to tell 
 her she knows the effects of procrastination, and that I 
 regret being under that fatal spell towards her, but that I 
 don't forget her for all that, and should be very happy to 
 see her and hers. I trust Lady Augusta's scheme of going 
 to join Rawdon has been laid aside and that his wife is 
 recovering, but gives him no more heirs to inherit his want 
 of fortune and good guidance into the bargain. How is 
 Mrs. Graham and her family ? I once heard of her by 
 Miss Bruce of Stenhouse. What does she do with her 
 sons? Remember me to your brother John and his 
 family. I could ask you fifty questions about all sorts of 
 people and things, but I fancy you might think it rather a 
 bore to answer half that number. I will wait to hear how 
 far you are generously disposed towards a sort of exile, as 
 
1 86 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 I reckon myself when far away from dear Scotland ! . . . . 
 By-the-bye, the ' Tales of the Crusaders,' with some happy 
 accidents de lumiere are not fit to keep up the Great Un- 
 known's fame, I think, except that he shows an acquaintance 
 with Saladin's talent for quackery, which historians were 
 ignorant of, fortunately for his dignity. ' Richard Cceur 
 de Lion ' is good, but not equal to his ' Louis the Eleventh/ 
 Adieu, dear Miss Ferrier ! 
 
 Ever your sincerely attached 
 
 C. D. 
 
 MISS HANNAH MACKENZIE TO S. E. F. 
 
 I hardly know what to say for myself I am so entirely 
 ashamed of not having before now answered your kind 
 note, and sent you my hearty congratulations on the birth 
 of your second daughter ; had I been able I should certainly 
 have come to rejoice over it with you, and to get cake and 
 caudle. Papa is very much pleased with much that he 
 has read (to the end of the second volume), and mama, 1 as 
 is no common case with novels, likes the third greatly 
 the best, thereon I agree with her. Walter Scott dined 
 here one day, and both he and papa joined heartily in their 
 admiration of Uncle Adam and their wish to know who 
 he is. Sir W. also admires Miss Becky Duguid, and said 
 he thought her quite a new character. I should like much 
 to see you and talk all over at length, but fear to invite 
 you to my own bower for fear of suspicion, but I trust 
 you will soon come and boldly face my whole family. I 
 do not think you need fear them much of course, like 
 other people, they have their ' thoughts,' but by no means 
 speak with certainty. Margaret has this minute assured 
 us that she * does not think it Miss Ferrier's.' I wish you 
 had told me how you are I fear, suffering from the nasty 
 east wind ; I have not gained much under its influences. 
 
 1 Henry Mackenzie married, in 1776, Penuel, daughter of Sir Ludovic 
 Grant of Grant, Bart. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. in LETTER FROM BASIL HALL l8/ 
 
 Hope has got a cold which will not leave her. But I am 
 thankful to say papa has got quite well in spite of it, and 
 of having had a very long fit of illness ; mama, too, is very 
 well. Chatty is very good in coming to see me, and I 
 think her looking well and in good spirits, and very agree- 
 able. Can you read this ? Pardon it, and believe me 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. M. 
 
 Monday night. The woman of the needle lives still in 
 her old quarters. 
 
 CAPTAIN BASIL HALL l TO S. E. F. 
 
 8 1 High Street, Portsmouth: August 15, 1824. 
 
 Captain Hall presents his respectful compliments to 
 the author of ' Inheritance,' and begs she will do him the 
 honour to accept a copy of his work on South America, 
 in humble but sincere testimony of his gratitude for the 
 pleasure and, he hopes, improvement which he has derived 
 from the perusal of her very admirable work. Captain 
 Hall, without the slightest affectation of humility, is fully 
 sensible of the superiority of interest, and. very often of 
 instruction, in works of fiction over those of mere matter 
 of fact, and as an author willingly offers his homage 
 accordingly. In order that either shall prove useful or 
 interesting it must be written with perfect honesty. One 
 has the privilege of dealing as it pleases with events, but 
 it must be true to nature in all that relates to sentiment 
 and character. The other must be true to actual oc- 
 currences, while the imagination may be called upon to 
 assign the motives. In the hands of one author the fancy 
 is an engine to be used at will and with confidence ; to the 
 other its use is utterly denied in description, and must be 
 very carefully handled in judging of the causes of events. 
 
 1 Author of a charming book en- Cranstoun) at her residence in Styria. 
 
 titled Schloss Heinfeldt, an account of He was a son of Sir James Hall, 
 
 a six months' visit he and his family Bart., of Dunglas, and an officer in 
 
 paid Countess Purgstall (n/e Miss the Royal Navy. (J. F.) 
 
1 88 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 The vast field of human society is open to the novelist ; 
 the traveller is circumscribed by narrow boundaries, and 
 yet in the course of natural events circumstances will 
 sometimes arise which the imagination could scarcely have 
 created. To describe these with effect probably does not 
 require much less labour than it does to do justice to the 
 creations of fancy, though certainly far higher praise is due 
 to the author who not only describes but conceives, than 
 to him who merely opens his eyes and writes down what 
 he sees. 
 
 In both cases there is enough always left to the taste 
 and skill of the author to establish a sort of analogy between 
 two things at first sight so very dissimilar as a novel and a 
 book of travel. The author of the travels would assuredly 
 be very well pleased, at all events in this case, could he 
 hope that his dry details would in any degree afford a 
 similar gratification to the author of the novel that its 
 pages have bestowed upon him. 
 
 MRS. GORE TO S. E. F. 
 
 47 Connaught Square, London. 
 
 Madam, I have to apologise for intruding upon you 
 having very little hope that the production of a few 
 ephemeral novels will induce the authoress of ' Marriage ' 
 to admit me to the high honour of sistership in her craft, 
 An explanation of the motive of my letter may perhaps 
 afford its best apology. Two years ago I was so fortunate 
 as to produce a successful comedy, which necessarily 
 introduced me to the chief comic actors of the day, all of 
 whom without one exception successively made it their 
 request that I would dramatise the novel of 'The In- 
 heritance,' allotting them such and such parts. Having 
 other engagements to perform, I gave the subject little 
 attention, more particularly as the work, although the most 
 original and various in point of character, did not strike 
 me as peculiarly adapted to the stage. Since the manage* 
 
CH. m MRS. GORE AND 'INHERITANCE' 189 
 
 ment of Covent Garden Theatre fell into the hands of 
 Laporte he has favoured me with a commission to write 
 a comedy for him, and the subject proposed by him is 
 again the French novel of ' L'Heritiere,' which turns out 
 to be a literal translation of * The Inheritance ' ; he is 
 quite bent, he says, upon having Miss Pratt on the stage. 
 I have not chosen to give Monsieur Laporte any positive 
 answer on the subject without previously applying to 
 yourself to know whether you have any intention or 
 inclination to apply to the stage those admirable powers 
 which are so justly appreciated in London, and whether 
 ' The Inheritance ' suggests itself to you as the subject of 
 a drama. If not, I shall probably lend my aid to his 
 projects ; but, believe me, it would afford me sincere 
 gratification to announce to him that the task was com- 
 mitted to so much abler hands. 
 
 I forward this letter to Mr. Tait, the bookseller, hoping 
 that it will reach your hands, and that you will pardon the 
 liberty I have taken in addressing you. 
 
 I have the honour to be, madam, 
 
 Your obedient, humble servant, 
 
 CATHERINE FRANCES GORE. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL (1832) 
 
 My dear Janet, I have been all day expecting the 
 arrival of the Grahams with great anxiety. They were to 
 embark in the * Adelaide ' on Saturday evening, and the 
 weather has been most unfavourable ever since ; Sunday 
 night must have been fearful at sea the wind blew so 
 strong from the north-east. Oh that they were safely 
 landed ! I am told it is a very slow sailing vessel, and is 
 commonly a day longer on the voyage than the others, 
 and upon going to the office before dinner the agents said 
 they never looked for its arrival before to-morrow morning ; 
 but this has been a long day, and seems a lonely evening 
 as I sit here listening to the vile roaring east wind, and 
 
190 * INHERITANCE ' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 think of what they may be suffering ! Yet, to use Samuel's 
 expression, ( there is a Providence at sea as well as on land/ 
 for He in whom we live and move and have our being is 
 present everywhere. Oh, if we could but believe that we 
 are each and all of us the objects of His peculiar love 
 and care, how much easier we should feel under every 
 circumstance of life ! Even now my heart condemns 
 me for the misery I feel at every blast of wind ; but I 
 must try to write of something else, though I cannot 
 change to a much more cheerful theme on turning to 
 poor Mrs. F., 1 who is certainly not gaining ground. 
 Yesterday she felt so uneasy and became so languid 
 they were obliged to administer the foxglove ; to-day 
 she has not been worse, but that was all the doctor 
 could say ; happily she is still able to take food, and the 
 morphia agrees with her, so her nights are better than they 
 were, and we must still hope that it may be God's will to 
 restore her in His good time. It was well that Walter 
 was persuaded to give up his journey to Dumfries, as he 
 was ill able for such an expedition ; he has much need to 
 save, not to squander, the little health and strength he has. 
 I heard to-day, which gave me much pleasure, that the 
 King has ordered a pension of 2OO/. to Miss Scott, and 
 that will give her about 3OO/. per annum, and with that 
 any one may be quite independent. Mrs. Gore, the author 
 of ' Pin Money,' &c., has been applied to by the managers 
 of Covent Garden to dramatise ' Inheritance,' so Miss Pratt 
 will be figuring there by-and-bye. I have not yet got 
 servants, though I have seen and spoken with multitudes ; 
 it is frightful to think how few characters will stand the 
 scrutiny even of their own sinful fellow creatures ! I was 
 shocked to hear of the delay of the box, and that you were 
 eating fish exactly a week old, as they had been sent off 
 on the Thursday before. I should have sent more, but 
 they have been scarce, and it will probably be next week 
 before I can send any. The linen was sent by me in lieu 
 
 1 Her sister-in-law, long an invalid. (J. F.) 
 
CH. in MRS. GORE AND 'INHERITANCE' igi 
 
 of the flannel, and if there is any balance in my favour you 
 may give some more flannel to the Millers and Hunters. 
 
 Thursday. Thank God our dear Jane is arrived safe 
 after a very stormy and perilous voyage ; she looks ill, and 
 is much fatigued, but a day or two's rest will set her all to 
 rights. Helen is quite brisk, and both seem very happy 
 and thankful to find themselves on dry land, and happy 
 I was to see them ! Jane will write soon and give you 
 all her adventures. Mrs. John is decidedly better to-day. 
 I end in a blither key than I began. I called at the 
 repository to look for some new work, and there is a very 
 simple affair which I think you will like ; it is called a 
 fanchette, and is used to put over the head, and clasps 
 under the chin to keep the head and ears warm, or else 
 round the throat ; the day was so bad, and I was so hurried, 
 I could not get worsted or netting needles, but if you want 
 them I will send them next week with the pattern it's a 
 net boa from London. The fanchettes are all colours, but 
 silk is better than cotton where it is used. I dare say this 
 is illegible, for I write in the dark my eyes are so painful. 
 I am just going to have eight leeches applied. 
 
 MRS. GORE TO S. E. F. (about 1831) 
 
 5 Ulster Terrace, Regent's Park. 
 
 I have to thank you for writing to me again respecting 
 ' The Inheritance,' for nothing but my apprehension that 
 you might write me down a Miss Pratt has prevented my 
 addressing you on the subject. Very shortly after I had 
 the pleasure of communicating with you last I was in- 
 formed that a dramatic version of the novel had been laid 
 before the reader to Covent Garden Theatre, which (unless 
 I wished to establish a previous claim) would be accepted. 
 Not having written a line of my play, and having no clue 
 to the merits of the one in question, I judged it unfair to a 
 brother dramatist to interfere with his labours, and with- 
 drew from the field. I have since learned with regret that 
 
192 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' en. m 
 
 the play is the production of a certain Mr. Fitzball, 1 the dis- 
 tinguished author of the * Flying Dutchman/ and sixty other 
 successful melodramas, represented with great applause at 
 the Surrey, Coburg, City, and Pavilion Theatres, &c. &c. 
 in short, a writer of a very low class. ... I greatly fear 
 that neither comedies nor other works of fiction dependent 
 for their interest on the successful delineation of character 
 will for many years to come fix the attention of the public. 
 Nothing but books or plays administrant to unnatural 
 excitement, or of a nature to gratify the outcry for useful 
 knowledge, have now any vogue in London. I venture to 
 say outcry, because I perceive that the greater number 
 of Miss Martineau's readers care nothing for her stories, 
 which are certainly as good and interesting as if they con- 
 veyed no instruction. ... I have presumed to trespass 
 very long on your time, and yet I would willingly detain 
 you a moment longer, to beg that, if you have not already 
 read it, you will look at the third volume of the * Recollec- 
 tions of a Chaperon/ containing ' Ellen Wareham.' I would 
 willingly find you of my own opinion, that it is the most 
 forcible tale produced since those of Mrs. Inchbald. 
 
 Though Mrs. Gore's scheme fell through, Miss Pratt was 
 allowed dramatic existence of a sort over and above that 
 provided by Mr. Fitzball as we see from the following 
 letter : 
 
 MISS MARY CAMPBELL* TO S. E. F. 
 
 Kennet 3 : January 8, 1826. Alloa. 
 
 My dear Susan, I must first wish you a good New 
 Year in the common way, and I may just add my best 
 
 1 Readers of Bon Gaultier will re- Marryat, and Victor Hugo. Miss 
 
 member the 'terrible Fitzball,' Words- Ferrier does not appear, and there are 
 
 worth's opponent in the tournament probably other omissions. The Cata- 
 
 which decided the Laureateship. Miss logue also discloses the fact that his 
 
 Ferrier would have had an almost real name was Ball, 
 
 unique experience among modern 2 One of Miss Ferrier's very oldest 
 
 novelists if he had not dramatized her. friends, daughter of John Campbell, of 
 
 His list of victims, as set forth in the the Citadel, a cadet branch of the 
 
 British Museum Catalogue, includes Breadalbane family. Her mother was a 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, Michael Scott (the Callander, of Craigforth, and her 
 
 author of Tom Cringle), Cooper, brother, Mr. John Archibald Camp- 
 
en. m 'INHERITANCE' ON THE STAGE 193 
 
 wishes for your health and comfort and that of all those 
 near and dear to you during this and all the long years 
 that I hope and trust it may be the will of Providence to 
 permit you to enjoy in this life. How are you ? I hope in 
 your frail ordiner no, something better than that. I have 
 enjoyed a part of the Xmas gambols here exceedingly. 
 Dressing up in character and guizarding (I don't know 
 how to spell the word) was the order of the day, or rather 
 of the evening ; and at last, the actors waxing bold, it was 
 proposed to get up a scene from * The Inheritance/ 
 Unluckily there was no copy in the house, but after all I 
 don't think it signified, for we were all so perfect in the 
 speeches of Bell Black, Major Waddell, Uncle Adam, and 
 Miss Pratt, that there was small occasion for any kind of 
 prompting. Sir Gilbert Stirling did your Uncle Adam to the 
 life ; his face was excellently painted, a red silk handkerchief, 
 old great coat, hose drawn over his breeches knees in 
 short, the costume I do think very much as you would have 
 wished ; it was, we thought, in the hilarity of the moment, 
 quite perfect. My sister Georgina was Bell Black, and 
 clacked the Major in great style, who was Mr. Bruce. 
 She is a funny, quick girl, and entered into the spirit of the 
 character, both before and after marriage, astonishingly. 
 Miss Pratt deserved a better fate, for she fell to Willy 
 Bruce, who did her no justice. Gumming Bruce 1 took 
 Colonel Delmour, and Amelia Lament Miss St. Clair. 
 The scenes they chose were the first introduction to Uncle 
 Adam and his visit to Gertrude. I have no doubt, my 
 dear Susan, you would have spit fire at the exertions of 
 the party and pronounced them a complete failure ; but we, 
 
 bell, a well-known inhabitant of 3 The residence of Robert Bruce, 
 
 Edinburgh. In her youth she was Esq., and now the property of his 
 
 very beautiful and somewhat resem- son, Lord Balfour of Burleigh. 
 
 bling Marie Antoinette, ' Santa Maria,' ( J. F. ) 
 
 as she was called by her friends, from ! Brother of Sir W. Gordon Cum- 
 
 the depth of her human sympathy and ming ; took the name of Bruce on his 
 
 divine love. She died in 1872 at marriage to Miss Bruce, of Kinnaird 
 
 Albyn Place, Edinburgh, aged ninety. (J. F. ) 
 (J- F.) 
 
194 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 poor creatures, we roared and laughed, and shouted 
 excellent ! bravo ! encore ! Now don't you perceive the 
 mixed feeling of mind by which I am at this moment 
 actuated, evidently telling you this expecting you are to 
 receive the intimation as a compliment, and at the same 
 time not without fear that you will highly disapprove the 
 temerity of the attempt. There has been a large party 
 here, but except a Mrs. Bruce of Grangemuir I once told 
 you about, I think the bulk of the people were genteel, 
 but dull, gentlemanlike, and melancholy. Amelia goes to 
 Edinburgh next week, and I shall desire her to call and 
 tell you her news, as I have been so busy all day at the 
 Kirk. I have no time to add the nothings I intended to 
 follow this detail. Adieu, my dear friend. 
 
 Believe me always affectionately yours, 
 
 M. H. C. 
 
 There was, as we have seen, a connection by marriage 
 between the Wilsons and the Ferriers. Of the Wilson 
 family, the one with whom Miss Ferrier seems to have 
 been most intimate was James, a brother several years 
 younger than Christopher North. 1 He was a learned 
 naturalist and figures in the Chaldee MS. as 'the stork 
 which buildeth upon the housetop and devoureth all 
 manner of unclean things, and all beetles and much 
 worms.' For once two critics differing as widely in cast 
 of mind as Lockhart and Mrs. Grant are agreed. In 
 Peter's letters James Wilson is described as ' very young, 
 many years junior to his celebrated brother, and no casual 
 observer would suspect them to be of the same family. 
 James is a thin, pale, slender, contemplative looking 
 person, with hair of a rather dark colour, and extremely 
 short-sighted. In his manners, also, he is as different as 
 possible from his brother. His voice is low and his whole 
 demeanour as still as can be imagined. In conversation 
 he attempts no kind of display, but seems to possess 
 a very peculiar vein of dry humour which renders him 
 
 1 James Wilson was born in 1795, referred to in the following letter. A 
 
 and died in 1857. His marriage to life of him, by the Rev. James Hamil- 
 
 Isabella Keith, sister of Sir Alexander ton, D.D., was published in 1859. 
 Keith, took place in 1824, and is 
 
CH. in JAMES WILSON 195 
 
 extremely diverting. . . . Professor Jameson informed me 
 that his young friend is in truth no less a poet than a natu- 
 ralist, that he possesses a fine genius for versification, and has 
 already published several pieces of exquisite beauty, though 
 he has not yet ventured to give his name along with them.' 
 Mrs. Grant describes him as ' a younger and graver 
 brother of the "Isle of Palms." When I speak of 
 gravity I mean the grave countenance with which he says 
 things irresistibly ludicrous. He is, in fact, the author of 
 some of the best, at least the most refined, wit in " Black- 
 wood's Magazine." ' His biographer, Dr. Hamilton, says of 
 him ' Charles Lamb and James Wilson would have under- 
 stood each other.' 
 
 JAMES WILSON TO S. E. F. 
 
 53 Queen Street : October n, Tuesday morning, 1824. 
 
 Dear Susan, You will have heard of the scrape I 
 have got into ; you will probably never hear that I have 
 got out of it again, but let us hope the best ; it is not 
 Dalmeny Edmonstone, neither is it Marianne Millar. My 
 mind must have sunk under the sparkling sylph-like 
 intelligence of the one and my body been soon overcome 
 by the robust indefatigable pedestrianism of the other. But 
 it is one, who, though less accomplished in the English 
 tongue than the Sylph and more ignorant of strong shoes 
 than the Satyr, is about as much to my mind as either, 
 and much more so than both. As I am just on the eve of 
 giving myself an airing with the view to inspect an estate 
 in the neighbourhood of Morningside, I think it right to 
 write these few lines lest you should think that I have 
 taken any undue advantage in planting myself so near you 
 without timeous warning. 1 Should the house prove cold 
 and damp, and the summer unfavourable, you will enjoy 
 the satisfaction of hearing an additional widow's gun fired 
 off before the fall of the leaf. 2 If I am allowed to walk 
 
 1 A small place, Woodville, where at Morningside House in summer, 
 
 he lived and died, and which he (J. F.) 
 
 bought from his brother-in-law, 2 Neither of the editors can offer 
 
 Mr. John Ferrier, W.S., for i,ooo/. any suggestion as to the nature of a 
 
 Miss Ferrier and her father lived ' widow's gun. ' 
 
 O 2 
 
196 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 up to Morningside to-day I shall do so, and hope to find 
 you deriving some benefit from the change of air. I 
 myself shall have nothing else but air now, so hope it 
 will be frequently changed. Do they bring fish round 
 regularly ? Is there a baker and butcher at hand ? How 
 are you are off for soap ? Spirits, I am told, are down 
 (mine are so), but then, from the increased price of tallow, 
 I fear candle is looking up. Do you wash and dress in 
 the house ? I hope so, for I always thought it very 
 improper for any lady to be seen either washing or dress- 
 ing by the roadside. The thing itself may not be wrong, 
 but then idle people talk, and wicked people doubt one's 
 motive, and you know, Miss Ferrier, one must sacrifice 
 something to the opinion of the world, however anti-ablu- 
 tionary it may at present be. However, I would fain hope 
 that both yellow sand for the kitchen floor and camstane l 
 for the lobby may be had either at Burrow Muir head or 
 the toll. On these and several other points of deep impor- 
 tance, I shall hope the same friendly and unreserved 
 confidence which has hitherto subsisted between us will 
 induce a free and impartial communication. What is 
 upon the whole your opinion of Sunday salt compared 
 with salt of the week-day kind ? Do you buy your 
 potatoes by the peck or the boll ? Do you look upon 
 small bread as not more objectionable on the score of 
 cheatery than the standard quartern loaf? Do you fatten 
 and then kill your own poultry ? Do you harden your 
 heart by so doing ? Do you train up a pet lamb in the 
 way it should play itself and murder it when it comes 
 to years of dishcretion ? Do you boil your lobsters alive ? 
 Do you poison your neighbour's pigeons to preserve 
 your own peas ? Is it justifiable homicide to shoot other 
 people's cats when you have none of your own ? But 
 I am anticipating what I hope we shall have ample 
 opportunity of discussing in the course of the ensuing 
 summer. For the present I shall conclude by observing 
 
 1 A substance used for floor cleaning. 
 
CH. in JAMES WILSON'S MARRIAGE 197 
 
 in regard to the creature that had I been as blooming as 
 Mr. Spencer, as upright as Anny Walker, as rich as Prince 
 Esterhazy, as innocent as Alexander Millar, as lively as 
 his sister aforesaid, as healthy as Mr. Rollo, and as fat 
 as Professor Leslie, I could neither have hoped for nor 
 expected anything better than I have obtained. I trust 
 you will also be of the same opinion. 
 
 Believe me, your very sincere friend, 
 JAMES WILSON. 
 
 P.S. Feeling a little tired from want of sleep, and I 
 have changed my mind as to going with my mother and 
 Jane 1 to-day out yonder, but I hope to see you soon either 
 here or there. 
 
 J. W. 
 
 JAMES WILSON TO S. E. F. 2 
 
 Woodville: July 4. 
 
 Dear Susan, Isabella 3 agrees with me on the propriety 
 of not dining with you at this time, as you are just on the 
 wing for a foreign country. In fact, on her own account, as 
 well as yours, I think she is better for a while at home ; from 
 having been so long without paying any visits she would 
 perhaps be expected to go through with it if she once 
 began. However, she will not be in town during your 
 stay without paying you a visit, and I need scarcely say 
 how gratified and how grateful she will be whenever you 
 afford her an opportunity now or hereafter of seeing you 
 here. ... I am a good deal engaged at present with 
 Uncle Sym 4 who, though not suffering from any definable 
 
 1 His sister, Miss Wilson. Old arrive he'll cut your head off, for you 
 
 Mrs. Wilson was a very fine-looking are not the least like it ! ' The por- 
 
 old lady, and sister to Mr. Robert trait is supposed to have slightly 
 
 Sym, W.S. Jane Wilson had her flattered her. (J. F.) 
 
 miniature painted for her sister, Lady z As I can find no clue to the date 
 
 McNeill, who was in Persia, her of this letter, I have placed it with the 
 
 husband being Envoy at that Court. only other one from the writer. 
 
 James Wilson, hearing that it was going 3 Mrs. James Wilson, 
 
 to Persia, said to her, 'I'll tell you 4 Robert Sym, W.S. ; he was 
 
 what will happen, Jane. The Shah ' Timothy Tickler,' in the Nodes 
 
 will see it, and he'll send for you for Ambrosiatuz, and was remarkable for 
 
 one of his wives, and when you his stature and good looks; died 1845, 
 
IQ8 'INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 complaint, is languid both in mind and body and more 
 dependent than usual on the attentions of the few with 
 whom he finds himself at ease. He has several times 
 quoted, with high approbation of its beauty and propriety, 
 a sentiment from a certain recent novel l that the affec- 
 tionate ministrations of the young to the old ought rather 
 to be regarded in the light of delightful privileges than as 
 mere duties which they are bound to pay, and although 
 the allusion was made without any reference to himself I 
 have great pleasure in endeavouring to imitate the example 
 of those by whom the sentiment has not only been finely 
 expressed but long practised. 2 If you won't grudge a 
 postage I shall be glad to let you know occasionally what 
 is doing among the birds, bairns, and other beasts of this 
 corner of the world. 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 JAMES WILSON. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONN ELL 
 
 Wednesday, March 3, 1825. 
 
 My dear Janet, I really would have written to you 
 before now, but for my father's indisposition, which was of 
 a nature that puzzled me what to say about it. One day 
 he was pretty well, the next complained of being very ill. 
 Even on the same day he varied several times, but in 
 general his appetite remained perfectly good, and he 
 acknowledged that he commonly slept seven or nine hours 
 at a stretch with these symptoms. I could not believe 
 there was anything materially wrong, and therefore I was 
 not alarmed, though I was uneasy and restless ; but I 
 thought it would be cruel to communicate my feelings to 
 you, especially as I could not have asked you to come to 
 
 in George Square, Edinburgh, aged l Either The Inheritance or Des- 
 
 95. His portrait, by Sir H. Raeburn, tiny. (J. F.) 
 
 is one of that great painter's finest 2 In allusion to Miss Ferrier's well- 
 works, and is now in my possession. known filial devotion. (J. F.) 
 (J- F.) 
 
CH. in OLD AGE OF JAMES FERRIER, SENR. 199 
 
 us, for at that time he would have been quite angry had I 
 hinted at such a thing. He is now, I am happy to say, 
 much better. He still complains occasionally of a sort of 
 confusion in his head (which, however, never appears in 
 anything he says or does) and a degree of deafness which 
 at his age is certainly not a prodigy, but he continues to 
 eat and sleep well and looks well, and takes a drive to 
 Morningside two or three times a week, or walks in the 
 garden when the weather admits. At the same time that 
 I rejoice in these good symptoms I am sensible that his 
 strength is not what it was, and that he walks slower and 
 more feebly than he did some months ago, but I would fain 
 flatter myself that when he gets to Morningside he may in 
 some degree recruit even at his advanced age. . . . He 
 has been obliged to withdraw from the business of the 
 Court, even before his successor was appointed, but he has 
 had it in view for many months, and is now in daily 
 expectation of seeing everything settled, which will be a 
 relief to his mind as well as body. With regard to your 
 kind offer of coming to us as usual in time of need I read 
 it to him, and he seemed sensible of the kindness and 
 affection which had dictated it ; but the season is now so 
 far advanced, he seemed to think it would not be worth 
 while, as our stay in town will depend so much upon the 
 weather ; at present it is very bad, but should it set in 
 fine we shall probably move very soon. My cold is almost 
 gone, but for some days it was very severe, and I was so 
 hoarse I could not speak, or at least my father could not 
 hear me ; but now, mercifully, we are come to an under- 
 standing. Jane will tell you of her sufferings, but every- 
 body has been ill of something or another: Mrs. John, 
 toothache and rheumatism ; Mrs. Walter, a bad cough, 
 which is now better ; Mrs. James Wilson you would see 
 has produced a daughter, a real human creature, and 
 neither fish nor fowl, as was apprehended, but a very fine 
 child, and its papa the happiest of men. They are to be at 
 Woodville this summer. Mrs. Wallace came to town about 
 
2OO ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 a fortnight ago, chiefly, she said, to see my father, but 
 he was so much of an invalid when she came, that he 
 would not see her for some days, although you know 
 what a favourite she is. Since then she has dined twice, 
 but except that, and having the lads l as usual on 
 Sundays, we never have a soul. I think one or two 
 intimate friends now and then would be an agreeable 
 variety, but it won't do. Even Anne Walker in her fur 
 cap would be taken for a company, and I'm almost afraid 
 of having asked Mrs. G. 2 to meet Mrs. Wallace to-day, 
 it will be such a brilliant party ! Mrs. K. 3 is certainly 
 very fortunate in having both a rich and an indulgent 
 husband, as there are few Scotch wives at least who can 
 travel about for their health as she does. I had a letter 
 from her t'other day with a history of her boys having shot 
 a fine painting all through with their bows and arrows, the 
 blame of which she seems to land on Mrs. Conry, 4 the 
 pity upon herself for not having heeded them better. Mrs. 
 Conry must be much better than I am to be blamed for 
 other people's boys ! You must have done a great deal 
 the short time you were in Carlisle, and, I hear, made 
 many conquests, which is very impolitic. Remember me 
 to Mr. C. and believe me, dear Janet, 
 
 Your most affectionate 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Monday, loth. 
 
 This is the first free opportunity I have had of thank- 
 ing you for your letter and its accompaniments, which I 
 can scarcely add were most acceptable, although my father 
 grumbles a little at the degeneracy of modern partridges, 
 and always discovers after having picked one to the bone 
 that there is nothing upon it. From this you may infer 
 
 1 Her Nephews. (J. F.) 3 Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Graham. (J. F.) 4 Mr. Kinloch's sister. (J. F.) 
 
OH. m MISS FERRIER'S HEALTH 201 
 
 his appetite is not failing, and, indeed, I never saw him 
 better in every respect than he is at present ; he has 
 recovered his hearing by having had his ears syringed, and 
 altogether is in such good health and spirits that I am 
 impatient for you to see him. We shall be moving to 
 town about the end of this month, when we must, I fear, 
 bid a last farewell to Morningside. I could be very sorry 
 to think of it, and time was when I would have been, but 
 I have lived long enough to have discovered that all such 
 unavailing regrets and repinings are at best but weakness 
 and selfishness, mere disturbers of our own peace and the 
 peace of others. As for my bodily feelings, they are much 
 the same, if anything better; my head became so very bad 
 after drinking the Airthrie waters that I was obliged to 
 have recourse to my good old doctor, and his prescrip- 
 tions, together with sponging my pate &c., have relieved 
 me in some degree of the intolerable weight, though it still 
 continues stupid and confused, and I suppose will do all 
 the days of its life. I have been reading a book upon the 
 stomach, which has convinced me that we are all gourmands 
 and eat and drink a great deal too much and of too many 
 good things, and that almost all diseases are occasioned by 
 our intemperance ; this is no new doctrine, and I don't 
 pretend to pass it for such, but 'tis a great point gained 
 when one is brought to believe it, and a still greater when 
 one can bring themselves to act upon it. I dare say that 
 is not easy at your good table, but at our meagre board 
 the temptations are seldom powerful. ... I hear James 
 Walker is going to be married to a Miss Mackenzie of 
 Scotsburn, but I have heard no particulars of the lady, 
 except that she has no fortune, so I trust she has better 
 things and will be an acquisition to the family. Anne and 
 Helen are still in Isla, but I hope they will be home soon, 
 as they make a dreadful blank to me. Mrs. Fletcher, too, 
 is away, so I have nobody but the Mackenzies and James 
 Wilsons to befriend me. I send you hieroglyphic news- 
 papers, which are said to be the best things of the kind 
 
2O2 ' INHERITANCE ' AND * DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 since the days of Hogarth. Whatever Sir A. F. or any- 
 body else may say, you know what you have to say. 1 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 December, 1826. 
 
 As I think it too much to make one's friends pay for 
 bare thanks I delayed sending mine till they could travel 
 free. The partridges were excellent, and your offer of a 
 credit upon your poultry-yard most generous and kind ; 
 however, I hope I shall never be so ravenous as to play 
 Tod Lowrie and carry off your hens and chickens it is 
 quite enough that we are liberally supplied with the birds 
 of the air. . . . My father continues in perfect health, eats 
 well and sleeps well, and is in good spirits, but he is feeble 
 in his walking, which is the natural consequence of ad- 
 vancing years except in that particular he really shows no 
 symptom of old age . . . but I hope you will judge for 
 yourself by-and-bye. 
 
 The Grahams are to be with us on Saturday ; they say 
 for a week, but I trust for a month, after which they go to 
 Mrs. Hay, and when they leave us we hope Mr. C. and 
 you, and one of the girls, will come for a few weeks, as the 
 G.s, being in Edinburgh, will be an additional induce- 
 ment, and if you don't come then there is no saying when 
 we may meet, as we shall be off to Morningside, as usual, 
 in March. 
 
 I don't think I have written you since the death of poor 
 Beenie, who slipped away very suddenly one morning with- 
 out any warning. She had gone to a niece's wedding the 
 evening before and wanted to get up to put on the fires 
 about an hour before she died. She was a quiet, inoffensive 
 creature, and so little had been given her in the way of 
 understanding that doubtless little would be required of 
 her in attainments. I can't be so hypocritical as to 
 lament her loss, as she had long been worse than nobody 
 
 1 Adam Fergusson. (This last sentence evidently alludes to the secrecy of 
 her authorship. ) (J. F.) 
 
CH. in LETTER TO MRS. KINLOCH 203 
 
 to me, and I have now got a nice, stout, neat-handed 
 young woman in her place. . . . We have a regular weekly 
 dinner of our neighbours and their cousin, Miss E., who 
 is a very pleasant, sensible creature. 1 . . . Walter looks 
 fagged and ill ; at present both John and he are so very 
 busy I see very little of either indeed, everybody is 
 busy in their own way at this season, for the days are so 
 short and dark there is no getting anything done. We 
 don't breakfast till about ten, and at one I commonly 
 take a drive to Morningside with my father and walk 
 about there, which, with seeing my friends, putting on and 
 off my things, and managing my domestic affairs, leaves me 
 scarcely a moment to myself. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. KINLOCH (1826) 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 You judged truly, my dear Helen, that I would be 
 much occupied upon coming to town, though not so much 
 but that a letter from you would have been very accept- 
 able. As for my old letters, the only purpose for which I 
 wanted them was to burn them, and I am very glad you 
 have saved me that trouble. It seems you thought I was 
 going to publish them ! ! ! I begin to think you don't know 
 me or you never could have imagined such a thing. I wish 
 I could destroy every letter I ever wrote, for I am sen- 
 sible my mind has undergone many and great changes 
 in the course of my life, and that my sentiments and 
 opinions in many respects are totally changed from what 
 they were ; indeed, I find them still changing, for though 
 I trust and believe I am not insincere, I am conscious I am 
 somewhat fluctuating, at least in some things and people ; 
 in others I am uniformly steady. ' Judge before friendship, 
 then confide till death,' is good advice, but alas ! my judg- 
 ment has often followed my liking in many things ; but this 
 is a long digression from the subject of my old scrawl, 
 and all I have now to say is that I beg all my new ones 
 
 1 Mrs. Halliday and her sisters, the Misses Edmonstone. (J. F.) 
 
2O4 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 may share the same fate. ' My father continues quite well 
 and bears his retirement from business better than I could 
 have expected. 1 The great blank in his life is the want of an 
 old friend, for it is very sad not to have one remaining ; but 
 we all need to be weaned from this world, for, with all its 
 pains and privations, we are all too fond of it. I'm sure I 
 am, in spite of my many warnings. 
 
 ALAR1C WA TTS TO S. E. F. 
 
 8 North Bank, Regent's Park : July 12, 1826. 
 
 Madam, I fear you will pronounce me guilty of an 
 unpardonable liberty in venturing, without the pleasure 
 of any personal acquaintance with you, to introduce 
 myself to your notice by requesting a favour from you ; 
 but the great delight I have received from your writings 
 (kindly presented to me by Mr. Blackwood), an admira- 
 tion which I have more than once had opportunities of 
 publicly avowing, makes me anxious to include some brief 
 production of your pen in the forthcoming volume of the 
 little work of which I have now the pleasure to request 
 your acceptance. This volume will be found to contain 
 original contributions in prose and verse by a large 
 proportion of our most popular writers, and the illustra- 
 tions I think you will find have seldom, and in two or 
 three instances never, been surpassed as book illustrations. 
 
 A northern friend had kindly undertaken to endeavour 
 to interest you in behalf of the ' Literary Souvenir ' some time 
 ago, but as I am of opinion that a direct application to you 
 would be forgiven, even although you should be indisposed 
 to comply with my request, and that ' a faint heart never 
 won a fair lady/ I have, at the risk of being set down for an 
 intruder, ventured upon this address. 
 
 Any sketch resembling the numbers of faithful de- 
 lineations of society in your published writings, or any 
 little legend or essay of a light character, will confer great 
 
 1 He retired on June 5, 1826, on a pension of 86o/. per annum. (J. F.) 
 
en. m THE DUCHESS OF ARGYLL ON ' INHERITANCE ' 2O5 
 
 interest upon, as anything from the author of * Marriage ' 
 would aid in conferring popularity upon, my little volume. 
 
 Having suffered grievously by the failure of my late 
 booksellers (from ten to eleven thousand of the work 
 having been printed), I am particularly anxious to concen- 
 trate as much talent as possible in my next number. In 
 addition to most of the friends who contributed to the last, 
 I am promised and have received papers from various 
 other quarters. 
 
 As the book must make its appearance on the first of 
 November, the favour of an early line mentioning whether 
 I may hope for something from your pen will greatly 
 oblige. 
 
 I am, madam, with great respect, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 ALARIC WATTS. 
 
 DUCHESS OF ARGYLL TO S. E. F. 
 
 Upper Brook Street : l Friday, January 12, 1827. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I assure you I was much 
 pleased to receive your letter, for I feared by your silence 
 you were ill or had not received the book, not that it 
 deserved the thanks you so kindly bestowed on me for 
 sending it. I was anxious for your opinion of it, and now 
 I really wish you were here to have a discussion with the 
 Duke, who thinks you very unjust, but he says poor Truth 
 has always suffered from misrepresentation. However, so 
 determined is he to endeavour to convince you that his 
 opinion is right, that I should not be surprised if he writes 
 you a letter on the subject the first leisure moment he 
 has. The Duke begs me also to tell you that he shall 
 have great pleasure in appointing your friend his chaplain 
 if his number is not full, or if that number is not limited, 
 neither of which facts he knows how to ascertain. Perhaps 
 your friend will take that trouble. You will probably have 
 
 1 The site now occupied by Lord at the corner of Park Lane. The 
 Tweedmouth's house, Brook House, number was 29. (J. F.) 
 
206 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 heard how very ill poor Eleanor has been, 1 indeed danger- 
 ously so, but I am happy to tell you she is now better \ but in 
 a very weak state. I hope, if she continues improving, she 
 will be able to be moved to town in about a week. ... I 
 hear we have another dairymaid added to our family ; we 
 must hope that in due time she will do honour to the pro- 
 fession. I conclude Lady Augusta is in Edinburgh by 
 this time ; if so, pray give my kind love and tell her I 
 shall send the box by to-morrow's mail. Excuse my 
 giving you this trouble. We beg our kindest regards to 
 your father, and thanks innumerable to you both for your 
 good wishes for the New Year, and we return them most 
 sincerely to you. I thank you very much for your promise 
 of writing to me. Your new hand is very ingenious, and I 
 shall like a specimen of it, otherwise I do not like my 
 friends to make any change, and I shall hardly fancy it is 
 your letter. I will administer any book you recommend 
 to the Duke with pleasure, but I will not answer for the 
 effect. Adieu, my dear Miss Ferrier, 
 Believe me always, 
 
 Yours very affectionately, 
 
 CAROLINE ARGYLL. 
 
 Georgy 2 is not with me at present, but I shall forward 
 to her the few lines you wrote in her favour. 
 
 DUCHESS OF ARGYLL TO S. E. F. (1827) 
 
 The Duke will have great pleasure in signing the paper 
 in favour of your friend whenever he receives it. I assure 
 you / am delighted at having it in my power to send you a 
 favourable answer to anything you wish. I am always, 
 you know, interested in your sayings and doings, and hope 
 very soon to benefit by the first production. I do not think 
 the Duke has had time to study sufficiently your good book ; 
 his business bothers him too much just at present, but he 
 
 1 Her daughter-in-law, Lady Ux- 2 Her daughter, Lady Georgina 
 
 bridge. (J. F.) Paget. (J. F.) 
 
CH. in LETTERS FROM THE DUCHESS OF ARGYLL 2O/ 
 
 begs to be most kindly remembered to you and your 
 father. 
 
 We have seen how those immediately about Miss 
 Ferrier received ' Inheritance.' Mrs. Grant may be taken 
 as a good exponent of the average educated opinion of her 
 time. Writing in June 1824, she says : 
 
 1 There is a lady here whom I think you must know 
 Miss Ferrier ; her father is a very old man, and she, who is 
 not very young, and has indifferent health, secludes herself 
 almost entirely with him. The fruits of this seclusion 
 appeared three or four years since in the form of a novel 
 called ' Marriage '; it was evidently the production of a clever 
 caustic mind, with much good painting of character in it, 
 that could not be produced without talent and considerable 
 knowledge of men and books. I have just finished a hasty 
 persual of a new work by the same author, called * The 
 Inheritance,' and join the general voice in pronouncing it 
 clever, though there is, perhaps, too much of caricature 
 throughout. Pray read it ; there is strong sense in it, and 
 it keeps attention awake even when it does not entirely 
 please. There are some here who praise this book beyond 
 measure, and even hold it up as excelling the invisible 
 charmer.' l 
 
 And a little later we find her writing, c A month hence, 
 Theodore Hook's sayings will not be less clever nor less 
 abrupt. Miss Ferrier will not be less observing nor 
 sagacious.' 
 
 When Miss Ferrier actually began upon ' Destiny ' does 
 not appear. But it evidently had not got far in January 
 1829, when her father died. None of the letters preserved 
 belong to that period or refer to that incident. But no 
 one who has read the correspondence can doubt that the 
 sombre tone which overlays so much of ' Destiny/ the lack 
 of that joyous and boisterous humour which marks Miss 
 Ferrier's earlier work, tells of the shadow of a great 
 loss. 
 
 1 Vol. iii. p. 57. 
 
2O8 * INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 There were other troubles and hindrances. The in- 
 firmity of eyesight, which had so long given trouble, 
 became so acute, that in 1830 Miss Ferrier found it neces- 
 sary to visit an oculist in London, without, as it would 
 seem, much profit. 
 
 The view has lately been set forth that ' Inheritance ' 
 was commercially a failure, and that in consequence Mr. 
 Blackwood was content to let ' Destiny ' fall into other 
 hands. 1 The former part of the statement may be well 
 founded, though the general reception of the book would 
 certainly seem to make against it. There is nothing in 
 the dealings about * Destiny ' to confirm the second part 
 of Mrs. Oliphant's view. That it fell into other hands 
 was due mainly to the intervention of Scott. In the 
 autumn of 1829 Miss Ferrier was paying a visit at Abbots- 
 ford, which will come before our notice again, and she then 
 for the first time took Scott into full confidence about her 
 novels. He at once told her that ' Inheritance ' had been 
 sold below its value, and entering into negotiations with 
 Cadell, received seventeen hundred pounds for the copy- 
 right. 
 
 DUCHESS OF ARGYLL TO S. E. F. 
 
 Upper Brook Street : May 12, 1827, Monday evening. 
 
 What am I to say sufficiently to express my thanks 
 either to you, my dear Miss Ferrier, or to the author of 
 * Inheritance,' whoever she may be, for the most perfect 
 edition of that most perfect book that ever was written ? 
 Now that I may be allowed to have my suspicions I shall 
 read it again with double pleasure. It was so kind of you 
 to remember your promise ! When I received your kind 
 letter and books this morning I was quite delighted with 
 my beautiful present, and to find I was not forgotten by 
 one of my best friends. I wish I had anything to tell 
 you from this place to make my letter amusing, but 
 indeed we are all more dull and stupid than you can 
 imagine, and the abominable weather contributes to make 
 one feel so. I am sure an east wind and fog are bad for 
 the mind as well as the body. The dear Duke, though 
 
 1 By Mrs. Oliphant. Annals of a Publishing Firm, vol. i. p. 45. 
 
CH. in W. BLACKWOOD ON 'DESTINY' 209 
 
 recovered from the gout, is by no means as strong in walk- 
 ing as he ought to be, nor do I expect it till we have some 
 warm weather. I am very sorry to hear your father has 
 been suffering. Pray give our kindest regards to him. 
 You are quite right not to venture much out, and I hope 
 you continue as well as when I saw you in Edinburgh. . . . 
 Give my kindest love to Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher when you 
 see them. The Duke begs I will not forget to mention 
 him to you most kindly. 
 
 I sent your letters to your sister immediately and shall 
 be always happy to do so. 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh: August 8, 1827. 
 
 Madam, I have read your MS. with the most intense 
 interest and delight. While the story is natural and easy 
 in its progress, the characters have all your originality and 
 force. If I might venture a hint, however, I rather think, 
 with all his excellent and original points, the laird of Inch 
 Oran is perhaps not sufficiently brought out before you 
 kill him off. The Moderate 1 minister is capital ; he is, 
 one would say, the concentration of the excellencies of the 
 class. The breed of these beasts is happily getting scarcer, 
 and let us hope that it will soon be extinct. I might fill 
 several sheets if I were to value at all the characters and 
 incidents which have struck me. All I shall venture to 
 say is that I anxiously hope your health and spirits will 
 soon enable you to finish this work, which I feel confident 
 will be a most instructive as well as amusing production. 
 
 Mr. Pollock, the author of ' The Course of Time,' is, I 
 am sorry to say, in a very bad state of health. As he is 
 threatened with consumption, he is going to the Continent 
 by the recommendation of his medical advisers. To enable 
 him to do this some of his friends have begun a private 
 subscription, and with what I have been able to give him 
 on account of his poem we hope to be able to send him 
 
 1 Mr. McDow. 
 
 p 
 
210 'INHERITANCE' AND ' DESTINY ' en. in 
 
 away quite comfortable as to his pecuniary matters. Mr. 
 Henry Mackenzie has taken a most lively interest in the 
 matter, and, besides giving five pounds himself, he is apply- 
 ing to his friends here and in London. I would be much 
 gratified if you would give any little aid to this matter, 
 and if you could privately mention it to Miss Walker or 
 any of your friends. I hope you will excuse me for 
 applying to you. 
 
 I am, madam, yours very respectfully, 
 
 W. BLACK WOOD. 
 Miss Ferrier writes in answer : 
 
 Sir, I am much gratified with your remarks on the 
 MS., and send you the remainder, but at present there is 
 no prospect of my carrying it on. 
 
 Miss Walker has been taking a great interest in the 
 subscription for Mr. P., and I had already given him my 
 mite towards it, otherwise I should have been happy to 
 have contributed through your means. 
 
 I am, sir, your most obedient servant, 
 S. E. FERRIER. 
 
 S. E. F. TO HER NIECE, ANNE CONNELL 
 
 Cairnhill 1 : Friday, Septembers, 1829.2 
 
 My dear Anne, . . . I have had so few letters since I 
 came here that I am rather in the dark as to what is doing 
 beyond the shire of Ayr, and indeed I have been so busy 
 traversing this corner of it that I have had little time for 
 anything else. 
 
 Mrs. Wallace had not been in the way of visiting for 
 many months, but since I came she discovered it was 
 necessary she should return the civilities of her neighbours, 
 
 1 Cairnhill was the residence of Ion. A niece of Elizabeth Mure, 
 
 Mrs. Ferrier Wallace, near Kilmar- wife of King Robert II., married 
 
 nock. She outlived her four brothers, Sir Hugh Wallace, of Cairnhill. 
 
 and became heir to the estate. On (J. F.) 
 
 the old tower at Cairnhill is a curious 2 Miss Ferrier lost her father in the 
 
 stone with inscription and a coat of January of this year. (J. F. ) 
 arms, Wallace and Mure of Rowal- 
 
CH. in LETTER TO MISS CONNELL 211 
 
 though I believe it was only a pretence to show me the 
 beauties of the country ; and she was so set upon doing it 
 that I was obliged to acquiesce in her kind intentions. 
 Our first destination was Netherplace, 1 and the first person 
 we there encountered was Mr. - - all alone in the 
 drawing-room, as nauseous as ever, and only to be endured 
 from a sense of duty which ought to make all things 
 endurable ! I suppose you will soon be put to the test, as 
 I understand he goes to Conheath after the Ayr gaities ; 
 I think he won't stay long. . . . Miss Connell and Mr. A. 2 
 are expected at said Netherplace about this time, and I 
 hope we shall have Miss C. here for a day before I leave 
 this, which I intend to do on Tuesday if Hamilton can get 
 away then ; but there is talk of some parish business that 
 may detain him a day or two longer. I mean to pay but 
 a short visit to Cathlaw, and to be in Edinburgh either the 
 end of next week or the very beginning of the one follow- 
 ing. But to return to my past travels. We were also at 
 Barskimming and Sorn Castle the former I knew, and 
 the latter I was charmed with ; it is quite a Paradise of its 
 kind, but I pity the poor solitary Eve who possesses it ; 
 she looks so melancholy amidst all her wealth and beauty, 
 without a single creature (not even a parrot) to keep her 
 company. 3 We found a different scene at Lanfin in the 
 
 new successors to , 4 an uncommon pleasant, happy 
 
 looking family, with such plain, frank, easy manners that 
 made me feel as if in the midst of old friends. 5 Another 
 day we drove to Ayr and saw beautiful sea views, and also 
 another Tarn O'Shanter and his cronies ; all admirable ; 
 walked about Auchencruive, another lovely but deserted 
 place, and a perfect wilderness of shrubs and flowers ; a 
 beautiful shrub, the snow berry, would be a great embellish- 
 
 1 Netherplace was the property then Campbell. (J. F. ) 
 of Miss Campbell, an ancient cadet- 2 Miss Connell's brother. (J. F.) 
 
 ship of the London family. It was 3 Miss Somervell. (J. F.) 
 
 subsequently bequeathed to Colonel 4 Name undecipherable. 
 
 Ferrier Hamilton's second son, 5 Residence of a family of the name 
 
 Charles, who assumed the name of of Brown. (J. F.) 
 
 P 2 
 
212 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 ment at your door. From all this you may guess we have 
 had some fine days, and I hope their genial influence has 
 been felt at Nithside, and that you have all been making 
 hay while the sun shone at Dalscairth. . . . My head is 
 very confused with the racketings I have had, and I 
 dare say I have forgot much that I meant to say. Tell 
 your father there has been very bad sport on the Ayrshire 
 muirs this season ; Hamilton says the like was never 
 known. Compliments to Frisk. 1 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. KINLOCH 
 
 Cathlaw : September 16. 
 
 My dear Helen, I came here about ten days ago 
 under Hamilton's escort, purposing to remain two or three 
 days at most ; but such are the kindness and hospitality 
 of our friends, and the attractions of the place, that were I 
 to yield to their solicitations and my own inclinations 
 here I should remain for a month to come. But it is time 
 I was preparing a retreat for myself before the winter sets 
 in, and as I intend to be very busy when I go to Edinburgh, 
 I commence my lucubrations here. 2 I can give you no 
 idea of what I think and feel to be the charms of this 
 place, so different from all that I had fancied or remembered 
 of it ; it is like a bird's nest amongst hills of every variety 
 of form, some wooded to the top, others covered with sweet 
 old mossy turf and wild flowers and patches of whins and 
 heather, and the air so 'nimble and sweet' ; and above all, 
 such views ! far surpassing, in my opinion, those from 
 Stirling Castle. 3 Figure, if you can, a range all the way 
 from the Bass to the Argyllshire mountains, including the 
 Grampians and Ochills, Edinburgh and Stirling, and the 
 
 1 A dog. (J. F. ) assumed the name of Hamilton. This 
 
 2 She was then engaged in writing uncle had been in the Navy, and was 
 Destiny. (J. F.) at the capture of Quebec, and signalised 
 
 3 Colonel F. Hamilton succeeded to himself by assisting the sailors to drag 
 Cathlaw on the death of his uncle, the cannon up the heights of Abraham. 
 Mr. Ferrier Hamilton, in 1814, and He married, 1784, a Miss Johnstone, 
 also to the Westport estate, when he of Straiton, co. Linlithgow. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. in MR. CADELL AND ' DESTINY ' 213 
 
 Forth like a magnificent lake studded with shipping, and 
 all the rich and varied detail of its shores without anything 
 of map-like minuteness, for even my eyes can easily explore 
 all this and much more. Many parts of this view are seen 
 from the grounds near the house, and ascent to the hilltops 
 is so easy that I can walk to them much easier than I 
 could to the quay ; l but indeed I have gained so much in 
 strength since I came that I can scarcely believe I am 
 myself. Altogether it is one of the most singular and, to 
 my taste, most enchanting. 2 
 
 JOHN FERRIER TO S. E. F. 
 
 York Place : Friday evening. 
 
 My dear Susan, I called for Mr. Cadell before dinner, 
 and found him in his shop ; he seemed quite ready for the 
 work, asked how many volumes, answered three ; what name 
 - this I could not tell him. On learning that the copyrights 
 of the others had been disposed of, thinks it would be for 
 the author's advantage to dispose likeways [sic] of the 
 meditated work in the same manner ; as to this I cannot 
 pretend to judge. He is to make a proposal for the book, 
 which I will communicate. As to the time of publishing, 
 he is of opinion that, as the season is so far advanced, it 
 should not be brought out until the end of October or 
 
 November. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 J. FERRIER. 
 
 S. E. F. TO AIR. BLACKWOOD 
 
 7 Nelson Street : April 20. 
 
 Sir, I regret that engagements have prevented me 
 from acknowledging the favour of your letter sooner. The 
 last time I had any conversation with you regarding my 
 works I clearly understood from you that 'The Inheritance* 
 at least had proved unsuccessful, or, as it seems I had 
 
 1 Near Conheath. (J. F. ) abruptly to an end, the remainder of 
 
 2 Here this interesting and graphic the letter being lost. (J. F.) 
 description comes unfortunately and 
 
214 ' INHERITANCE ' AND * DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 erroneously termed it, unfortunate, and I certainly never 
 should have thought of offering a future work to you after 
 being told the second edition of my former one was ' dead 
 stock ' upon your hands. When such was the case I 
 naturally concluded you could not be desirous of entering 
 into a similar speculation, and I was not disposed to press 
 the matter. 
 
 Had I been mistaken in my supposition, however, an 
 opportunity was afterwards afforded you by my brother 
 of coming forward if you had any proposal to make ; it 
 appeared you had not, and there the matter ends, I hope 
 without offence on either side. I have now only to repeat 
 that I am ready to relieve you of the copyrights of 
 ' Marriage ' and c The Inheritance ' at a fair valuation. 
 I remain, sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 S. E. FERRIER. 
 
 M/SS MACKENZIE^ TO S. E. F. 
 
 Saturday, May 8, 1830. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I was very happy to see your 
 handwriting yesterday, and would not have lost even one 
 post in thanking you if I had not felt it prudent not to 
 stop yesterday. We have heard of your safe arrival in 
 London two days before, but of course heard none of the 
 particulars of your voyage which led you to your pedestrian 
 resolutions. Were I to speak for my experience of the sea 
 I should join you in them. We are all as you left us, my 
 father looking very well, but he has not recovered his flesh 
 since his attack of cold, so we are going to try him with 
 animal food again. My mother and Hope walked to and 
 from church both last Sunday and Thursday without suf- 
 fering. I went on Thursday afternoon to the College Kirk 
 to hear Mr. Tait, of Kirkliston, preach, and sat behind 
 your friend, Mary Campbell, who won my heart quite by her 
 manner to me, so much so that if I had been quite well 
 
 1 Daughter of the Man of Feeling.' (J. F.) 
 
CH. in MISS MACKENZIE ON 'DESTINY' 215 
 
 yesterday, or my mother so to-day, I should have yielded 
 to the impulse of not deferring a day to call on her. Our 
 sermon was good, but confined to one point, and that point 
 not presented in those various lights which every subject 
 is exhibited by in the Holy Scriptures themselves. It was 
 from Galatians, and you may imagine it from this. My 
 mother and I have been reading your MS. 1 Never since 
 my youthful days when I devoured * Clarissa ' have I been 
 so completely absorbed as by the return of Ronald to his 
 deserted home. How could you bear to write anything so 
 heartrending ? My mother felt nearly the same. After I 
 closed the book I had to go to see a friend, and she asked 
 me if I was ill. It is quite original, too, as far as we 
 remember. With regard to Mr. McDow, will you forgive 
 me for quoting poor Lady Seaforth's expression as read 
 from her pothooks by Lady H. Hall. 2 We have a dose, and 
 more than a dose, of him. My mother says she never saw 
 a hieland minister like him, and I dare say she never did, 
 for although the Strathspey ministers were some few of 
 them no better than he, yet the extreme gentleness of her 
 brother's manners threw a sort of quietness over the out- 
 ward company demeanour of everybody at Castle Grant. 
 But I could furnish you with some things that were under 
 this manner as coarse as any of his sallies. Your children 
 are better than Miss Edge worths, but I have one or two 
 remarks on them and other parts, which I shall submit to 
 you when I meet. I grieve to think of your time in London 
 being spent with oculists, but we all think his report is 
 comfortable. You have one eye so good that if you take 
 care of it you will, I would fain hope, see as well with it 
 as any person who has no disease of the eyes. But perhaps 
 I speak ignorantly. Dear Hope would say something from 
 the overflowings of her pious soul, but I feel I have no 
 power to do so. You will have discovered that I write in 
 the greatest haste. I write beside my father and mother. 
 
 1 Of Destiny. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Daughter of the Earl of Selkirk, and mother of Capt. Basil Hall. (J. F. ) 
 
216 * INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY' CH. m 
 
 ... so I hardly know what I send, but I would not 
 delay. 
 
 Yours ever affectionate, 
 
 M. MK. 
 
 It is very lady's maid-like to bid you * burn this,' but I 
 am rather self-condemned for what I said of poor dear Lady 
 Seaforth's writing. 1 
 
 The following letter shows that Miss Ferrier, though no 
 realist, was scrupulous in avoiding detailed errors. 
 
 BASIL HALL TO ROBERT CAD ELL 
 
 London : October 6, 1830. 
 
 My dear Sir, In reply to your questions, put by the 
 desire of the author of * Destiny,' I beg you will say that, by 
 the regulations of the Service, a midshipman must serve six 
 years before he can pass for a lieutenant, and there is no 
 possible way of getting over this necessity. I am not aware 
 there is any instance of such a thing having been done, and 
 indeed it is so entirely repugnant to the feelings of the 
 navy in this matter that no author, I should think, could 
 venture to give any incident that turn without risk of 
 ridicule. It is a great affair in writing about professional 
 matters to keep strictly within the pale of usage ; for, do 
 what we may, an unprofessional person will always make 
 awkward slips. I wish the author of * Destiny ' much joy in 
 her new publication. If it equals the other it will be amongst 
 the most amusing books in the world. I am enchanted to 
 be in such goodly company as your prospectus sets forth, 
 although I fear I am like the wild elephant between two 
 tame ones ! 
 
 I am ever, dear sir, most sincerely yours, 
 
 BASIL HALL. 
 
 1 Miss Ferrier used to say jokingly her novels with them, as they had 
 to the Misses Mackenzie that she furnished her with so many good 
 ought to share some of the profits from stories. ( J. F. ) 
 
CH. m LETTER TO MRS. CONNELL 217 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Nelson Street l : September, 1830. 
 
 Now that the cows have done their part I must do mine, 
 as I trust you are now at leisure to take some interest in 
 your more human friends. 2 I made out the journey very 
 well. Except having a worse headache than usual, did not 
 suffer ; I liked my male companion much ; he was very 
 sensible, unaffected, and gentlemanly. The well-dressed 
 woman was weakness and vulgarity combined in no 
 common degree. . . . The weather by all accounts has 
 been as bad here as anywhere, everybody open-mouthed 
 against it ; there have been many deluges since I came, and 
 very rainy symptoms still continue. The town looks a 
 desert, but I find it quite gay enough for me. I had no 
 less than five invitations for yesterday and two to-day. 
 The Fletchers remain till the fifth, when they embark for 
 Jersey. He is certainly better. Mary Camp 3 is going 
 about the same time to Harrogate, which will make two 
 sad gaps in my small circle. Miss Walker paid a visit to 
 Stirling this week and brought back such an account of the 
 revellings at the Castle that I have given up all thoughts 
 of going there at present. . . . This is a great stretch for 
 my eyes, and I have had to make many a pause to rest 
 them. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 December 10, 1830. 
 
 Our good friends the Edmonstones are all well, except 
 
 that D 's eyes are even worse than mine. 4 They are 
 
 quite happy with their new house and seem as if just begin- 
 
 1 After her father's death she took 3 Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
 a small house in Nelson Street, No. 7, 4 For years she had suffered from a 
 
 and then No. 10. (J. F. ) painful and apparently incurable affec- 
 
 2 Mrs. Connell was very fond of an tion of the eyes, and most of her more 
 outdoor country life with her live recent letters allude to this sad state 
 stock and dairy ; Mr. C. farmed his of suffering. (J. F. ) 
 
 own property, Conheath. (J. F. ) 
 
2i8 ' INHERITANCE' AND ' DESTINY' en. m 
 
 ning life again. For my part, although I have no distaste to 
 life, as the gift of God and the means of preparing us for a 
 better state of being, yet I cannot but be glad at every year 
 that passes over my head. I heard Mr. Begg preach when 
 he was here and have got a seat in his church, but it is very 
 out of the way and close, so I fear I shall not be a regular 
 attender. I have also a most comfortable seat in St. 
 Stephen's with Mrs. Cunningham, so I pray I may make 
 good use of my opportunities. By-the-bye, when you have 
 read Dr. Arnold's sermons will you send them to me ? One 
 a day I think will carry you soon through them. The 
 weather is dreadful, and I have seen none but my kindred 
 and near friends for some time past. ... I heard from 
 Stirling yesterday. Jane is laid by the leg again, but 
 in this weather legs are of little use. . . . Mary Camp is 
 staying with Sir James and Lady Graham, who had been 
 dining at Court, and the Queen apologised for the want 
 of ornaments in the drawing-room, saying she had left 
 them all at Brighton as the King did not like packages in 
 the carriage ! Be thankful you are not the King's wife. 
 My kind regards to Mr. C. and the girls. 1 hope Anne 
 will excuse me not answering her letter, as writing is really 
 grievous to me now. 
 
 Believe me yours ever affectionately, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Stirling Castle : January 1831. Friday. 
 
 My dear Janet, I can well imagine the shock you 
 
 would sustain by the sad tidings of our poor brother's l 
 
 t 
 
 1 The following particulars about and he was among those who surren- 
 
 General Graham are communicated dered at Yorktown in 1781. He 
 
 by Mr. John Ferrier : * Samuel Gra- subsequently served in the Low 
 
 ham was born in 1756. He entered Countries under the Duke of York, 
 
 the army as ensign in the 3 1st Foot In May 1796 he was appointed to 
 
 in 1777. In the December of that the colonelcy of the 2nd West India 
 
 year he obtained a lieutenant's com- Regiment. In an engagement in 
 
 mission in the 76th. Two years later Jamaica against some brigands and 
 
 he obtained his captaincy. In 1780 caribs, he was seriously wounded, and 
 
 his regiment was ordered to America, was sent home invalided. In 1797 
 
CH. in DEATH OF GENERAL GRAHAM 2 19 
 
 sudden death, and the great anxiety you must feel to hear 
 how our dear sister is bearing this afflicting dispensation. 
 Thanks be to God she has hitherto been wonderfully 
 supported, and we may hope His Goodness will continue, 
 and as she seeks her consolation at the only true source 
 so she will not fail to find it there. Her medical attendant 
 thought it was as much as her life was worth to communi- 
 cate the dreadful intelligence to her, and yet her health 
 has not suffered in the least. She has had two good 
 nights, and the disorder is so much abated we may flatter 
 ourselves it is now very nearly subdued, but she has had a 
 severe and lingering illness. I was not aware how ill she 
 had been till I came here. She is much reduced, but not 
 so much weakened as might have been expected. She 
 gets up about the middle of the day and comes into 
 the dining-room, where she remains sitting or walking 
 about till past nine, and she now takes a little solid food, 
 which she had not been able to do for weeks. James and 
 Helen, you may believe, are all that dutiful and affectionate 
 children can be to a bereft parent ; the former, indeed, 
 seemed as if sent by God Himself in the very hour of need, 
 and it was in his arms that his poor father breathed his last. 
 He was with him from the moment he was taken ill, which 
 was about two in the morning, when he went to James's 
 room and told him he felt very unwell, but would not allow 
 a surgeon to be sent for for some time. When one came 
 he tried to bleed him, but it would not do, and he expired 
 in about two hours without pain or struggle. From the 
 symptoms the surgeons are of opinion it must have been 
 ossification of the heart, a disease far beyond human skill, 
 and when one considers all that his poor frame has under- 
 
 he obtained the command of the which post he died. James Ferrier 
 
 27th Foot, and in an engagement in would not allow the marriage with 
 
 the Helder lost an eye. He served in his daughter to take place till her 
 
 Egypt, and in 1804 received the rank future husband had attained the rank 
 
 of Brigadier-General. In 1814 he of General. This he obtained through 
 
 became a Lieutenant-General, and the kind intervention of Lady C. 
 
 after the war was appointed Lieu- Campbell with Lord Moira, then Com- 
 
 tenant-Governor of Stirling Castle, in mander of the Forces in Scotland.' 
 
220 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 gone, the surprise is not that he should have been taken so 
 suddenly away, but that he should so long have been spared. 
 Many will lament him, for he was a kind and affectionate 
 husband and father, a warm and steady friend, and a 
 hospitable and generous man. The funeral is fixed for 
 Wednesday, and Jane, who is all consideration for others, 
 begs me to say, with her most affectionate and grateful 
 regards, that she hopes Mr. Connell will not put himself 
 to the inconvenience by taking so long a journey at this 
 season, but do exactly what he feels himself able for. She 
 is very sensible of your kindness also, and will have great 
 comfort in a visit from you, but I have arranged to remain 
 till about the 8th, and I think it would be better for you 
 to come when I leave her, but someone will write again 
 before that time. I dare say this is very incoherent, for I 
 can only write a line or two at a time and this has been a 
 day's labour, but I thought you would wish to hear from 
 me. Adieu, my dear sister. God bless you all, and may 
 we all lay this lesson to heart ! 
 
 MISS MAC DONALD BUCHANAN^ TO S. E. F. 
 
 Ross : April 7, 1831. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, My mother is in an ecstasy of 
 gratitude and desires me to say all manner of pretty things 
 to you for your kindness in sending her the book. She is 
 at this moment enjoying it most throughly on a sofa by 
 the fireside. I am sure you think us no great judges, so it 
 is perhaps useless and vain to tell you how much pleasure 
 we have derived from ' Destiny.' There will be many 
 whose opinions are of more value to tell you how successful 
 you have been, but none of your friends can rejoice more 
 sincerely than we do in your success or more earnestly 
 hope you may long continue to pursue your brilliant, 
 enviable, and useful career, for I will not give up my old 
 argument anent the usefulness of good novels. My sweet 
 
 1 Sir W. Scott's favourite ' Missie.' (J. F.) 
 
CH. in LETTER FROM MISS BUCHANAN 221 
 
 sisters are highly indignant at the cold harsh manner in 
 which you treat worthy Mr. McDow's excellent refresh- 
 ments, and they are surprised you could introduce such an 
 unnatural character as Miss Lucy Malcolm, a senseless 
 affected creature pretending to prefer potatoes and milk to 
 ducks and onions. This is the only criticism I have heard, 
 but I believe poor Flora is rather sore on the subject, as 
 Jemima calls her nothing but Mr. McDow. I hope Flora 
 will have the pleasure of seeing you. She is to be in 
 Edinburgh about the week after next, on her way to 
 Roxburghshire to visit the Miss Melvilles and Anne Scott ,* 
 the latter is better, but has really been seriously ill this season. 
 I am happy to hear her father is much recruited and by no 
 means looking so ill as the newspapers would lead one to 
 suppose. The rest of this family intend meeting Flora in 
 Edinburgh the beginning of May, when we shall, I trust, 
 see some of our old friends. I hope the Grahams will be 
 with you then. I have no time for any news, this being 
 merely intended for a letter of thanks ; so good-bye, my 
 dear Miss F. We all unite in kindest love, and believe me, 
 Ever your affectionate friend, 
 
 MISSY. 
 
 P.S. We have had our Highland cousins, Sir John and 
 Lady Campbell, of Airds, here. They left us yesterday 
 for Ardencaple. I wish they had gone there first, that 
 I might have given you some account of Lady John 
 the 3rd. 
 
 FROM MRS. FLETCHER TO S. E. F. 
 
 Tadcaster : April 16, 1831. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I should not have been so long 
 in thanking you for your kind present had I not waited to 
 subject ' Destiny' to a severer test than that chosen by the 
 French dramatist. His old woman probably partook of 
 the vivacity of her nation, but my old aunt, as Mary will 
 tell you, is sick and often very sorrowful, and yet ' Destiny ' 
 
222 * INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 has made her laugh heartily and cheated her of many 
 wearisome hours of lamentation. 
 
 My grandson, Archibald Taylor, too, forsook football 
 and cricket for your fascinating book, and told me * he 
 would sit up all night to see what had become of Ronald ' ; 
 Mr. Ribley and ' Kitty my dear ' hit his comic fancy 
 particularly. 
 
 My two most bookish neighbours, one an Oxford 
 Divine and the other a Cambridge student, declare that 
 'Glenroy and Mr. McDow are exquisite originals.' My 
 own favourite, Molly Macaulay, preserves her good 
 humour to the last, though I thought you rather unmerci- 
 ful for shutting her up so long in Johnny's nursery. The 
 fashionable artlessness of Lady Elizabeth and her daughter 
 is coloured to the life, and the refreshment of returning to 
 nature, truth, affection, and happiness at Inch Oran is 
 admirably managed. 
 
 Mary tells me you have returned from Fyfe with fresh 
 materials for future volumes. Go on, dear Miss Ferrier ; 
 you are accountable for the talents entrusted to you ; go 
 on to detect selfishness in all its various forms and fold- 
 ings, to put pride and vanity to shame, to prove that vul- 
 garity belongs more to character than condition, and that 
 all who make this world their standard are essentially 
 vulgar and low minded, however polished their exterior or 
 refined their manners may be, and that true dignity and 
 elevation belong only to those to whom Milton's lines may 
 be applied^ 
 
 Thy care is fixed and zealously attends 
 To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light 
 And hope that reaps not shame. 
 
 ... I have another subject of gratitude to you, and I 
 have the sincerest pleasure in acknowledging it, because 
 I am sure, though she feels it deeply, she will not have 
 courage to tell you so herself your kindness to my dear 
 Mary. She has been very much gratified by your 
 admitting her on a footing of friendly intercourse. This 
 
CH. in ' DESTINY ' 223 
 
 has been her chief delight this winter. Neither Mary or 
 her mother, you will observe, are expert at making fine 
 speeches. But I hope you will find your kindness has not 
 been thrown away upon them. I often wish your lot were 
 cast for one six months upon an English country town ; 
 such a one as I now inhabit would furnish some graphic 
 subjects for your pen. The only circulating library in the 
 place has ordered ' Destiny,' and I hope to be edified by 
 the remarks I shall hear upon it. Believe me, dear Miss 
 Ferrier, 
 
 Very gratefully and truly yours, 
 
 ELIZA FLETCHER. 
 
 MRS. KINLOCH TO S. E. F. 
 
 Saturday, April 30. 
 
 ... I had your welcome dispatch ; it found me pre- 
 paring for a great ball given by a Mrs. Dunlop in Russell 
 Square, and was in truth Miss Loo's 1 debut, as she had 
 never been at anything so gay before. There was every- 
 thing to make it a scene of delight to her youthful fancy, but 
 oh ! I was tired, tired, in spite of fine music, fine painting, 
 and many pleasant people, and thankful to reach my own 
 hard bed at three o'clock in the morning. I met the Bells 2 
 there, who inquired most tenderly for you, and our talk 
 was * Destiny/ which they have heard much discussed and 
 much admired. The Lord Advocate 3 had borrowed their 
 copy and they could not get it out of his hands. Mrs. Bell 
 said a gentleman of peculiar fine taste preferred it to any 
 of your works. ... I had a note from Lady Charlotte 
 Bury last week praying me to send her a person (I had 
 once inquired about for her) to copy for the press, as she 
 wished 200 pages copied in two or three days. I sent her 
 a dirty body Duncan Campbell employs, but perfectly 
 honest, though not fit, as I wrote her, for a ' Lady's Cham- 
 ber.' I suppose it's another ' Journal of the Heart.' 
 
 1 Her daughter. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Mr., afterwards Sir Charles, Bell, the distinguished surgeon, and his wife. 
 (J. F.) 8 Andrew Rutherfurd. (J. F.) 
 
224 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 JOHN FERRIER TO S. E. F. 
 
 Edinburgh : July 21, 1831. 
 
 My dear Susan, I had the pleasure to receive your 
 letter some days ago, and as Lady Charlotte] has sent me 
 one of her papers with a few lines asking me to do what I 
 can for her, I think it will be best for me to answer it as 
 soon as I can send her two or three subscriptions, for 
 I despair of being able to do more, as it is only in 
 very peculiar circumstances that such can be asked or ex- 
 pected. 
 
 I see the prospectus figuring away here on the mantel- 
 pieces of the club houses, but no subscriptions as yet. 
 
 Mr. Cadell, whom I met this morning, is just returned 
 from the south. Unfavourable as the times have been, he 
 has disposed of 2,400 copies of * Destiny,' and is now, he 
 says, on safe ground. He says the work is well liked and 
 the above is the proof of it. In regard to the copies of the 
 other works, he tells me they are selling fair enough con- 
 sidering, which is all we could expect. He says that the 
 sales are so dull that the publishers in London are resting 
 on their oars, as he himself is doing in regard to Sir 
 Walter's new novel. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 J. FERRIER. 
 
 LOUIS H. FERRIER, 1 ESQ. OF BELSYDE, TO S. E. F. 
 
 Marchmont : June 13, 1831. 
 
 My dear Cousin, Will you have the goodness to 
 express to the author of ( Destiny ' the high gratification 
 we have all experienced from the perusal of that work, 
 which justly adds another laurel to the literary wreath long 
 ago conferred by the public on the only remaining great 
 unknown of the present day. For the considerate kind- 
 ness in sending us a copy our most grateful thanks are 
 
 1 He was her cousin and held a tor of H. M. Customs at Quebec ; died 
 very lucrative appointment as collec- there in January, 1833. (J. F.) 
 
CH. in CANADIAN KINSFOLK 225 
 
 offered. We have now passed a twelvemonth here and 
 have every reason to be pleased with the country and its 
 inhabitants. A large part of the society being military is 
 subject to perpetual change. The French Canadians mix 
 very little with the British, who here, as everywhere else, 
 are too exclusive. The present Governor and his lady, a 
 most agreeable couple, are trying as much as possible to 
 check this ante-social feeling. Our climate, though fickle 
 as our own one, is on the whole a fine one. Yesterday the 
 thermometer stood at 90 in the shade. A magnificent 
 thunder-storm commenced in the evening, accompanied 
 with a profusion of most brilliant sheet lightning. This 
 morning the temperature was only 50. A Canadian 
 winter has nothing appalling in it beyond the length, the 
 ground being covered with snow from the end of November 
 till the beginning of April. As to cold I have experienced 
 more at a dinner-party in Edinburgh than over here. Our 
 present residence is a truly beautiful one, adjoining the 
 celebrated plains of Abraham and overhanging the St. 
 Lawrence at the place where Wolfe landed. I sincerely 
 hope this will find your sister, Mrs. Graham, and daughter 
 somewhat recovered from the shock occasioned by the loss 
 they have sustained in our excellent friend the General. 
 Pray offer our united kindest condolence, and with best 
 wishes to yourself, 
 
 Believe me, my dear cousin, yours very sincerely, 
 
 L. H. FERRIER. 
 
 Pray say to Mrs. Forbes that we get on most comfort- 
 ably with her eleve. Best remembrances to your friends 
 the Misses Walker. 
 
 With the publication of ' Destiny ' comes the somewhat 
 strangely abrupt end of Miss Ferrier's career as a writer. 
 We read of solicitations from publishers, and there are 
 faint rumours, as we shall see, of further projects. One 
 fragment remains, showing that the old power of merciless 
 observation and dramatic interpretation was not a whit 
 
 Q 
 
226 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 abated. 1 But Miss Ferrier was not one of those whose 
 impulse to write was fed by any uncontrollable spring of 
 inner feeling. The conditions which supplied her with 
 material, and even more the temper which enabled her to 
 deal with that material, were things of the past. There 
 -was no longer the joyous readiness to watch and criticise 
 the comedy of life. Even in her last novel we see growing 
 up between her and her old tastes and powers the barrier 
 -of religious opinions and moral principles, all the more 
 encumbering because imperfectly assimilated. 
 
 To two of the sisterhood to which Miss Ferrier belongs 
 was granted a fate at once enviable and tragic. Jane 
 Austen and Charlotte Bronte passed away in the fulness 
 of unimpaired power, with loss to the world hardly to be 
 thought of tranquilly. With 'Destiny' before one it is 
 impossible to say that Miss Ferrier's powers knew no 
 abatement. If her career had ended with ' The Inheritance ' 
 I can hardly think that there would have been for any of 
 us the sense of loss which we feel after reading * Persuasion' 
 or ' Shirley. 1 Yet at least she escaped the fate which had 
 :overtaken more than one career which began with auspices 
 as good. No wayward perversion of judgment led her to 
 produce anything as much below 'The Inheritance' as 
 parts of ' Daniel Deronda ' are below George Eliot's best 
 work. There is nothing like the collapse and paralysis 
 which overtook Miss Burney in ' The Wanderer ' and in 
 parts of ' Camilla.' 
 
 And if fate dealt kindly with Miss Ferrier's powers, so 
 it did with her reputation. Living in a society steeped in 
 sound literary tradition, she, never had to make headway 
 against that dismal and now unintelligible stupidity which 
 went near to blight Miss Austen's career at its very outset. 
 On the other hand, while meeting with fully adequate 
 recognition and encouragement, she never became the idol 
 of a literary coterie. For that she had to thank her own 
 sound judgment and sense of humour rather than the 
 discretion of her friends. From critics she met with 
 recognition, yet not of such a character as to beget protest 
 or reaction. 
 
 We have already seen how her work was received by 
 those immediately about her. It is not without interest 
 
 1 The letter from Miss Betty jaundiced imagination.' It is pub- 
 Landon, ' a single lady of small for- lished by Mr. John Ferrier in the 
 tune, few personal charms, and a most Introduction to Marriage. , p. 32. 
 
CH. in JOANNA BAILLIE ON 'DESTINY 5 22/ 
 
 to see how her reputation fared among contemporary critics 
 who were free from the bias of kinship or intimacy. Scott, 
 .as we have seen, was lavish in praise, giving, as was his 
 wont, 'as rich men give, that value not their gifts.' 
 
 The following letters may serve as specimens of current 
 opinion. 1 
 
 MISS JOANNA BAILLIE TO S. E. F. 
 
 Hampstead : May 1831. 
 
 My dear madam, I received your very kind present 
 of your last work about three weeks ago, and am very 
 grateful for the pleasure I have had in reading it, and for 
 being thus remembered by you. I thank you also for the 
 pleasure and amusement which my sisters and some other 
 friends have drawn from it. The first volume struck me 
 as extremely clever, the description of the different 
 characters, their dialogues, and the writer's own remarks, 
 excellent. There is a spur both with the writer and the 
 reader on the opening of a work which naturally gives the 
 beginning of a story many advantages ; but I must confess 
 that your characters never forget their outset, but are well 
 supported to the very end. Your Molly Macaulay 2 is a 
 delightful creature, and the footing she is on with Glenroy 
 very naturally represented, to say nothing of the rising of 
 her character at the end, when the weight of the contempt 
 is removed from her, which is very good and true to nature. 
 Your minister, McDow, hateful as he is, is very amusing, 
 and a true representative of a few of the Scottish clergy, 
 and, with different language and manners, of a great many 
 of the English clergy worldly, mean men, who boldly 
 make their way into every great and wealthy family for 
 the sake of preferment and good cheer. Your Lady 
 Elizabeth, too, with all her selfishness and excess of 
 
 1 They have been already published The old lady is still alive, in her 
 by Mr. John Ferrier in the Introduc- ninety-first year, at Inveraray, and 
 tion to Bentley's edition of Marriage. Miss C. , who is a very clever, 
 
 2 ' Molly Macaulay is charming ; pleasing person, seems delighted with 
 her niece, Miss Gumming, is an old the truth and spirit of the whole 
 acquaintance of mine, and told me character of her aunty.' (Mrs. Kin- 
 ihe character was drawn to the life. loch to S. E. F,) 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. m 
 
 absurdity, is ' true to herself throughout, and makes a very 
 characteristic ending of it in her third marriage. But why 
 should I tease you by going through the different characters? 
 Suffice it to say that I thank you very heartily, and con- 
 gratulate you on again having added a work of so much 
 merit to our stock of national novels. Perhaps before this 
 you have received a very short publication of mine on a 
 very serious subject. I desired my bookseller to send a 
 copy to you, enclosed along with one to your friend, Miss 
 Mackenzie. How far you will agree with my opinions 
 regarding it I cannot say, but of one thing I am sure that 
 you will judge with candour and charity. I should have 
 sent one to Mr. Alison had I not thought it presumptuous 
 in me to send such a work to any clergyman, and, with 
 only one exception (a Presbyterian clergyman), I have 
 abstained from doing so. I was very much obliged to Mrs. 
 Mackenzie, Lord M.'s lady, for the letter she was so good 
 as to write me in her sister-in-law's stead. If you should 
 meet her soon, may I beg that you will have the goodness 
 to thank her in my name ? I was very sorry indeed to 
 learn from her that Miss Mackenzie had been so ill, and 
 was then so weak, and that the favourable account I had 
 received of your eyes had been too favourable. With all 
 good wishes to you, in which my sister begs to join me, 
 I remain, my dear madam, 
 
 Gratefully and sincerely yours, 
 J. BAILLIE. 
 
 SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH TO MISS FERRIER 
 
 London : June 10, 1831. 
 
 Dear Miss Ferrier, Let me tell you a fact, which I 
 hope you will excuse me from mentioning as some 
 subsidiary proof of your power. On the day of the dis- 
 solution of Parliament, and in the critical hours between 
 twelve and three, I was employed in reading part of the 
 second volume of < Destiny.' My mind was so completely 
 
CH. in GRANVILLE PENN ON ' DESTINY ' 22Q 
 
 occupied on your colony in Argyllshire that I did not 
 throw away a thought on kings or parliaments, and was 
 not moved by the general curiosity to stir abroad till I had 
 finished your volume. It would have been nothing if you 
 had so agitated a youth of genius and susceptibility, prone 
 to literary enthusiasm, but such a victory over an old hack 
 is perhaps worthy of your notice. 
 
 I am, my dear Miss Ferrier, 
 
 Your friend and admirer, 
 
 J. MACKINTOSH. 
 
 GRANVILLE PENN TO MISS ERSKINE^ 
 
 Devonshire Cottage : May i, 1831. 
 
 My dear madam, I return your book, but I am unable 
 to return you adequate thanks for being the cause of my 
 reading it. I have done this (and all with me) with delight, 
 from the interest and admiration at the whole composition, 
 the novelty and excitement of its plan, the exquisite and 
 thrilling manner of its disclosure, the absence of all flat 
 and heavy intervals, the conception and support of the 
 characters, the sound and salutary moral that pervades it 
 all these make me love and honour its valuable authoress, 
 and lament that I am not in the number of her acquaintance. 
 We all doat upon Miss Macaulay, and grieve that she is 
 not living at Richmond or Petersham ; and Mr. McDow 
 has supplied me with a new name for our little young dog, 
 whom I have called, in memorial of his little nephew (or 
 niece), Little McFee. With all the thanks, however, that 
 I can offer, &c. 
 
 GRANVILLE PENN. 
 
 The following letter shows what perhaps one might 
 have been tempted to doubt that the writer herself was 
 not the only person who took Miss Ferrier's claim as a 
 moralist seriously. 
 
 1 The recipient, Miss Erskine, of Cardross, forwarded this note to Miss 
 Ferrier. 
 
230 ' INHERITANCE '' AND ' DESTINY 
 
 LADY LILFORD 1 (DAUGHTER OF LORD HOLLAND) 
 TO A FRIEND 
 
 I cannot tell you how delighted I am that my most 
 humble but heartfelt tribute should have reached Miss 
 Ferrier ! For years, from my earliest youth, I have longed 
 that she should know she was the first human instrument 
 permitted to make a joyous, thoughtless young girl pause 
 and reflect. I had been blessed with many advantages 
 and opportunities alas ! but they were unheeded ; ' The 
 Inheritance,' by God's blessing alone, began to show me 
 the worthlessness of what this world most prizes. Often 
 in girlish enthusiasm I longed to write anonymously to 
 Miss Ferrier, and lay my whole heart open to her ! I am 
 keeping your servant waiting unconscionably. Pray 
 excuse, but I never can leave off on some subjects, and 
 Miss Ferrier's novels is one ! 
 
 Meanwhile, the critical reviews were somewhat strangely 
 and inexplicably silent. In 1844, when Jeffrey's 'Edin- 
 burgh Essays' were republished in collected form, the 
 oracle was dumb, not altogether to Miss Ferrier's satisfac- 
 tion. In private he expressed admiration for the character 
 of Miss Molly Macaulay, which most readers of Miss 
 Ferrier will probably think exaggerated and dispropor- 
 tionate. When at last, in 1847, the 'Edinburgh' broke 
 silence, it was with an article by Mr. George Moir, 2 kindly 
 in tone and graceful in expression, but certainly not marked 
 by any special insight or originality. 
 
 The ' Quarterly ' incidentally, and by way of illustra- 
 tion, congratulated the author of 'that excellent novel/ 
 * Marriage,' on the rather obvious wit shown in the name 
 Mrs. Downe Wright, but did not think any further praise 
 necessary. The brilliant, fantastic, and vagrant imagination 
 of Christopher North was unlikely to form a just estimate 
 of work so definite and limited where observation so wholly 
 excludes fancy. He is moved by the stagey and mechanical 
 
 1 For this communication I am 2 Advocate and Sheriff of Stirling, 
 
 indebted to Miss Campbell, Albyn (J. F.) 
 Place, Edinburgh. (J. F.) 
 
CH. in CRITICISM ON THE NOVELS' 231. 
 
 pathos of Ronald's secret visit to his home, and he so far 
 reads himself into his author as to see in the novels as a 
 whole the tragedy of Highland chieftainship in its decadence.: 
 His praise of Miss Ferrier does not suggest to one that he 
 saw in her a comedian of upper and middle class life, an 
 unsparing satirist alike of pretentious folly and homely 
 dulness. 
 
 Such criticisms go some way towards explaining how 
 it came about that Miss Ferrier attached, as it is plain she 
 did, more importance to the serious than to the comic side 
 of her novels. But they do not give us the whole, nor 
 perhaps the main, solution. Partly, no doubt, it was due 
 to the fact that a creative artist is apt to measure the value 
 of the work by the amount of effort which it costs him. 
 Thus arise strange delusions, such as that which made 
 Hogarth stake his reputation on * Sigismunda,' and Listen 
 fancy himself a wasted tragedian. Miss Ferrier was easily 
 and spontaneously humorous ; she was laboriously and 
 artificially sentimental and moral. And yet another factor 
 was at work. It is clear that Miss Ferrier's deliberate 
 judgment a judgment, too, which steadily grew in her 
 with her years rated amusement low and edification high. 
 The moralist stood apart from the comedian, deliberately 
 weighed her work, and found it wanting. 
 
 If comparisons in criticism be used to gauge the 
 supposed merits of a writer on what one may call a quasi- 
 competitive system, there cannot be a more deceptive or 
 worthless method. It brings the critic down to the level 
 of the small boy in Leech's picture, who liked his partner 
 at the child's ball better than oranges, but not as well 
 as tipsy-cake. 1 There can be no surer way of fastening 
 the attention on those features of a writer which are 
 common, and therefore obvious and unimportant, and 
 missing those which are distinctive and therefore essential. 
 Probably for that reason it commends itself to minds of a 
 certain class. But the juxtaposition of two writers, when 
 all question of comparative merits is set aside, may often 
 help one to an understanding of each. The novelist with 
 whom Miss Ferrier has probably been most often com- 
 pared is Miss Austen. In all likelihood that is simply 
 because Miss Austen lived nearer to our own day, and is 
 
 1 I may be wrong as to detail. It them a pretext for verifying or cor - 
 Js a kindness to my readers to give reeling me. 
 
232 ' INHERITANCE' AND 'DESTINY* CH. m 
 
 better known than Miss Burney. Between the writer of 
 'Marriage' and the writer of* Persuasion' there is scarcely 
 anything in common beyond the fact that both wore 
 petticoats, and that both took their characters and scenes 
 from the same period, and to some extent from the same 
 walk of life. No two novelists could really be more remote 
 from one another than Miss Austen always equable and 
 well balanced, and guided at every turn by an unfailing 
 sense of proportion and a spirit of restrained irony and 
 Miss Ferrier, with her alternations of vigorous and original 
 comedy and conventional sentiment. 
 
 Between Miss Ferrier and Miss Burney, on the other 
 hand, there is so strong and distinct a likeness, as at once 
 to challenge comparison and to make it easy. Both are 
 chroniclers of humours, delighting in, and largely depending 
 on, daringly grotesque situations and incidents. Bella 
 Black is of the house and lineage of Miss Larolles. It is 
 not unlikely that Mr. Augustus Larkins had modelled his 
 manners and conversation on some younger member of 
 the Brangton family. It is easy enough to point out in 
 how many ways the later writer has the advantage. There 
 is no foolery in Miss Burney as good as the conversation 
 at Mrs. Bluemit's with Aunt Grizzy's contributions to, and 
 comments upon, it ; no incident as irresistibly laughable 
 or as well worked out in detail as Miss Pratt's emergence 
 from the hearse. Miss Ferrier's sentiment is almost always 
 conventional, and her serious incident often melodramatic. 
 Yet in the one work by which we may fairly judge of her 
 matured powers at their very best, * The Inheritance,' she 
 shows that the effective construction of a story is nowise 
 beyond her powers. There are blemishes in detail, but 
 the plot holds well together, and the characters of the 
 story, comic and serious alike, fit into it appropriately. In 
 Miss Burney's novels we too often feel that the characters 
 and the dialogue, excellent in themselves, might be drawn 
 out of a bag and allotted to any portion of any of the 
 books. Two things, however, must not be forgotten. Miss 
 Ferrier grew up in a mental atmosphere far more stimulat- 
 ing and bracing than that granted to Miss Burney, and 
 she had a far larger and more appropriate stock of originals 
 to draw upon. Character-hunting, largely fool-hunting, 
 had been her pursuit from childhood, and the country 
 about her was well stocked with curious varieties. A critic 
 such as Miss Clavering, sympathetic and outspoken, and 
 
CH, in COMPARED WITH OTHER WOMEN NOVELISTS 233 
 
 the sense of responsibility engendered by a cultured and 
 critical society such as that of Edinburgh, might have done 
 a good deal for Miss Burney. Not that one can believe 
 that mere differences of training and circumstances exhaust 
 the question. It is one of the paradoxes of literature that 
 a writer with a sense of humour often so bright and so 
 acute could have been led away into the grotesque ab- 
 surdities which disfigure much of Miss Burney's work. 
 With that as an example before one it is rash to be 
 confident. Yet one cannot imagine that Miss Ferrier 
 could ever have marred good work with the melodramatic 
 extravagances which disfigure ' Cecilia/ or marched her 
 heroine off the stage in a Tilburina-like blaze of fireworks. 
 
 Another and perhaps a better plea may be urged on 
 behalf of the earlier writer. She was the earlier. She 
 succeeded to the traditions of the English comic novel 
 bequeathed by Smollett, traditions which required it to be 
 rich in grotesque and highly-coloured incident She made 
 it decorous ; one can hardly wonder if she failed at the 
 same time to make it artistic and well proportioned. It 
 needed more than a single writer, or even a single genera- 
 tion, to do for the English novel what Goldsmith, almost 
 unaided, did for English comedy. 
 
 A comparison almost as obvious as that with Miss 
 Burney is with Miss Edgeworth. There is, however, one 
 essential difference. Miss Edgeworth is didactic, not 
 merely of set purpose, but instinctively and spontaneously. 
 Miss Ferrier can be didactic enough, but it is only just to 
 say that her didacticism always has an air of obligation and 
 restraint. The likeness is strongest on those rare and 
 happy occasions when Miss Edgeworth forgets the physic, 
 and is content to administer the sugar without any ulterior 
 design. Such a story as ' L'Amie Inconnue ' might have 
 been the work of Miss Ferrier. On the other hand, the 
 very best feature of Miss Edgeworth's writings, her delicate 
 perception and artistic rendering of the lights and shades 
 of Irish character, above all of Irish peasant character, has 
 no counterpart in Miss Ferrier. 
 
 As was said before, the comedy of Miss Ferrier and the 
 comedy of Miss Austen are so wholly distinct in spirit and 
 method that there is no room for profitable comparison. 
 When they get beyond the domain of comedy they become 
 more comparable in character, and probably most persons 
 will think more widely separated in merit. Every loyal 
 
234 ' INHERITANCE ' AND ' DESTINY ' CH. in 
 
 admirer of Miss Austen must be drawn nearer to her by 
 her one happy venture upon the sea of romance. The hand 
 that created Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet forgot nothing 
 of its cunning, it bated not a jot of its innate art, when, 
 inspired by remembered happiness and living sorrow, it 
 pictured the grief and the constancy of Anne Eliot, the 
 joyous courage and chivalrous gentleness of her sailor lover. 
 With the heroine of ' Inheritance ' before one it would be 
 unjust to say that Miss Ferrier could not create a romantic 
 character. But the presence of a wayward, lovable, and, 
 for a time, unfortunate young lady does not by itself make 
 a romance, and even a heroine drawn by Shakespeare or 
 Scott would have been heavily weighed down by two such 
 lovers as the conventionally wicked Delmour and the 
 equally conventional and much more offensively virtuous 
 Lyndsay. Not that .Miss Ferrier has maltreated Gertrude 
 as one of her younger sisters has maltreated a worthier 
 heroine. The proximity of Delmour does not degrade a 
 decent young woman as that of Stephen Guest does. But 
 the best that can be said of him and his rival is, that their 
 love-making is very tolerable and not to be endured by a 
 girl with one-half of Gertrude's wit and spirit. 
 
 On the other hand, it might be urged that there is one 
 phase of literature which Miss Ferrier has dealt with 
 sparingly indeed, but effectively, and which Miss Austen 
 has left untouched. We do find in Miss Ferrier traces, 
 in one instance I think very distinct traces, of the capacity 
 to deal effectively with a tragic situation, not indeed with the 
 tragedy of incident, but with that subtler, though not less 
 real, tragedy which arises out of the contrast between 
 character and circumstances. Lady MacLaughlin is some- 
 thing more than a mere character of pure comedy ; Uncle 
 Adam a great deal more. There is at least a suggestion 
 of tragic pathos in the picture of the clever, handsome, 
 warm-hearted woman, sunk apparently into a bundle of 
 whims and absurdities, yet with affection and good judg- 
 ment really unimpaired and ready to come to the surface 
 when needed. And in Uncle Adam, affectionate and 
 generous by nature, grudging, petty, and suspicious by 
 training, never forgetting his early love, yet ashamed of 
 anything like the least show of emotion, neither side of his 
 character ever allowed to have free play for a moment 
 without reproach or interference from the other, and thus 
 in a state of chronic self-torment and restlessness, we have 
 
CH. in TRAGIC ELEMENT IN THE NOVELS 235 
 
 a figure of blended humour and pathos not unworthy of 
 Scott. Uncle Adam is a true cadet of the house of Caleb 
 Balderstone and Dominie Sampson. 
 
 We see somewhat the same kind of power less pleas- 
 ingly, but hardly less effectively, employed in that scene in 
 * Inheritance/ worthy of Crabbe in its grim mixture of 
 humour and repulsiveness, where the sick cottager's wife 
 is so absorbed with the care for her husband's ' dead claes,' 
 that she cannot pay the slightest attention to his sufferings, 
 or be even in the least moved by any kindly attempts to 
 relieve them. 
 
 Thus if any admirer of Miss Ferrier persists in the 
 very method of criticism which I have already deprecated, 
 and chooses to pit her against Miss Austen, he may, I 
 think, at least claim that she has for once steered into waters 
 where her rival's graceful and perfectly equipped bark never 
 ventured. 
 
236 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT 
 
 WE have already seen something of Miss Ferrier's inherited 
 friendship with Sir Walter. Insomuch as it forms a dis- 
 tinct chapter in her life, and the letters from and concern- 
 ing Scott have an independent interest of their own, it has 
 seemed best, at some sacrifice of chronological exactitude, to 
 place them in a chapter by themselves. Of her own inter- 
 course with Scott, Miss Ferrier has left a record which has 
 met with severe condemnation from one of her critics. 1 No 
 one would deny that there was much in Scott that lay out- 
 side Miss Ferrier's comprehension. Yet no lover of Scott 
 can fail to find interest in the clear, simply drawn picture 
 of the home life at Abbotsford as seen by a shrewd 
 observer, without any distorting influence of egotism ; one 
 too, who, with old-fashioned views as to the sacredness of 
 hospitality, felt an invincible repugnance to playing the 
 reporter and taking down people's words under their own 
 roof. 
 
 WALTER SCOTT TO JAMES FERRIER * 
 
 Ashestiel: September 18, 1811. 
 
 My dear Sir, I am favoured with your letter ac- 
 quainting me with your kind exertions on my part to 
 supply my Lord Advocate with his materials. If I were to 
 begin acknowledging my feeling of the friendship which you 
 have shown me in this (to me a very important matter), it would 
 fill a much longer letter than at present I propose to write. 
 But as you have thought me worthy of so much kindness, 
 
 1 It is published in the preface Scott.' As a matter of fact, the recol- 
 
 to the 1 88 1 edition of the novels. lections take in three visits, as we 
 
 Mr. Brimley Johnson, in his intro- shall see. 
 
 ductory memoir to Dent's edition, 2 Principal Clerk of Sessions, 
 
 speaks of Miss Ferrier's * extremely (J. F.) 
 dull recollections of her two visits to 
 
CH. iv INVITATION FROM SCOTT 237 
 
 you must also give me credit for feeling it as I should do, 
 and that is all that can be said among friends. By an 
 engagement of Dr. Hume's proposing, he takes my duty 
 this summer, and I relieve him of his winter fortnights, 
 which would interfere with his class. I told him the 
 bargain was hugely unfair as the advantage was all on my 
 side, but he concluded that, as he proposed to be in town 
 on the 25th, it would suit him well. I would, however, 
 have come to town till his arrival (for I don't like bowel 
 complaints, and still less fighting with them), but I expect 
 a host of lawyers here immediately about the Roxburgh 
 County Election, and Col. McKenzie and his wife on 
 Monday next. But I think you should recall Hector, 1 as 
 really this hot weather is not favourable to any affection of 
 the bowels. And now, my dear sir, Mrs. Scott and I make 
 a joint petition, that if the weather be favourable in the 
 beginning of October (for I wish our vile teind court to be 
 over), Miss Ferrier and you would look in upon us for a quiet 
 day or two. We will take great care to give Miss Ferrier 
 a comfortable and well air'd room, and as we are near 
 Melrose and some other shewplaces, I would fain hope we 
 might make the time glide pleasantly away. I would be 
 glad to shew you this wild highland place before I leave it, 
 which I do with some regret, though I go to no great 
 distance, and hope my own place will be in time as pretty. 
 Meantime it is, as Shakespeare's clown says of his mistress, 
 * A poor thing, but mine own.' Think of this, my dear sir. 
 The journey is a trifle, as you can be with us to dinner any 
 day you have a mind, and you have no idea how you will 
 oblige 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 W. SCOTT. 
 
 Ashestiel: September 18, 1811. 
 
 Pray, as you are a ruling elder, solve me a case of 
 conscience. They are clearing out the modern additions 
 
 1 Hector McDonald Buchanan, one of the Brethren of the Clerk's Table. 
 (J- F.) 
 
238 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 from Melrose Abbey. Will it be absolute sacrilege to build 
 my cottage with the stones their operations afford, pro- 
 viding I can get them for next to nothing ? 
 
 Of the visit to Ashestiel which followed upon this in- 
 vitation Miss Ferrier tells us but little. The weather was 
 stormy ; Miss Ferrier and her father occasionally drove with 
 Mrs. Scott, while ' the bard,' with his son, Terry and a 
 young kinsman of the Ferriers, took long rides on the hill 
 through wind and rain. In the evening Terry read plays 
 aloud, or Scott * recited old and awesome ballads from 
 memory, the very names of which I have forgot.' 
 
 WALTER SCOTT TO JAMES FERRIER 
 
 Ashestiel: September 22, 1811. 
 
 My dear Sir, There is no end of the plague I give 
 you. The Advocate writes to me, dated Largs 2Oth current, 
 that he has not received the acts, and expresses himself 
 anxious to give the matter dispatch. You will be able to 
 judge from the course of post whether this can be owing to 
 a miscarriage, which I should think very likely. Yet if 
 your packet went on Wednesday i8th, it seems he should 
 have had it before the 2Oth. If you should be of opinion 
 there is any chance of a miscarriage will you be kind 
 enough to direct Johnstone to forward duplicates ? His 
 address is Largs, Renfrewshire, famous for the defeat of the 
 Danes. I hope it will not be renowned for my discomfiture 
 also. The Advocate writes anxiously and in pure good 
 humour and zeal, and it would be a pity to lose the oppor- 
 tunity of sunshine. I have had a very polite note from 
 the Premier intimating the result. I expect brother Colin l 
 here to-day, when you will be in our flowing cups freshly 
 remembered. 
 
 Ever your truly obliged, 
 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 What say you to my plan for your trip hitherwards ? 
 
 1 Colin Mackenzie, Esq. , of Portmore, one of the Brethren of the Clerk's 
 Table. 
 
CH. iv VISIT TO ABBOTSFORD 239 
 
 WALTER SCOTT TO S. E. F. (1814) 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I had just written to say that 
 Mrs. Scott's indisposition would have detained us here this 
 week independent of the late calamity. l At any rate I 
 would rather never have gone out of Edinburgh in my life 
 than consulted my own amusement at the expense of 
 your kind and worthy father's feelings in such a moment. 
 Accept our deep and sincere sympathy, and believe me 
 most faithfully and respectfully your obedient servant, 
 
 W. SCOTT. 
 
 We hear nothing of intercourse between Scott and Miss 
 Ferrier during the days of her chief literary activity. 
 Mention has already been made of the reference on which 
 Blackwood relied as an appeal in the following letter. 
 
 Princes Street : June 1819. Thursday. 
 
 Madam, I have the pleasure of enclosing you the 
 concluding sentences of the new * Tales of My Landlord/ 
 which are to be published to-morrow. 
 
 After this call surely you will be no longer silent. If 
 the Great Magician does not conjure you I shall give up 
 all hopes. 
 
 I am, madam, 
 
 Your very respectful and most obedient servant, 2 
 
 W. BLACKWOOD. 
 
 In the autumn of 1829 Miss Ferrier again visited Scott, 
 this time at Abbotsford. There is a curious and rather 
 characteristic reticence in her language. ' The invitation 
 had been often repeated, but my dear father's infirmities 
 had made him averse to leave home, and when, in com- 
 pliance with Sir Walter's urgent request, I visited 
 Abbotsford in the autumn of 1829 I went alone.' One 
 would not infer that her father had died at the beginning of 
 the year. 
 
 1 The death of Mr. Ferrier's son, 2 How far the personality of each 
 
 Archibald Ferrier, W.S., which * shadow ' was known or suspected by 
 occurred in 1814. (J. F.) the other there is nothing to show. 
 
240 SIR WALTER SCOTT en. iv 
 
 It is a little unfortunate that Miss Ferrier's visit coin- 
 cided with "one of the gaps in Scott's Journal. As on her 
 visit to Ashestiel, the party was a small one. Both sons 
 were away Lockhart was detained in London by the 
 sickness of Hugh Littlejohn, Mrs. Lockhart was ill in bed, 
 and the party was made up by Anne Scott and Miss 
 Buchanan the ' Missie ' of more than one affectionate 
 reference. The critic to whom I have before referred 
 considers that Miss Ferrier was ' little in touch with her 
 host's real character.' And the remark * I often wished his 
 noble faculties had been exercised on loftier themes than 
 those which seemed to stir his very soul,' calls forth the 
 charge of ' pedantry and priggishness.' Can it be fairly 
 said that one who dwelt on * the unbroken serenity of his 
 temper and the unflagging cheerfulness of his spirits, and 
 the unfailing courtesy of his manners/ and who always 
 found in him ' the same kind, unostentatious, amusing, and 
 amusable companion,' had wholly failed to understand 
 Scott ? Here, as elsewhere, Miss Ferrier frankly recog- 
 nised her own limitations and did not make conventional 
 professions of an admiration which she did not really feel. 
 And if she did think that the antiquities of Abbotsford 
 ' seemed crowded together in a small space, and that there 
 was a " felt want " of breadth and repose for the eye,' was 
 her criticism wholly beside the mark ? 
 
 In describing one scene, too, she shows a not unkindly 
 perception of a weak side of Scott's character. There is a 
 dinner-party where Wilkie and the Fergussons are present. 
 Mrs. Lockhart, ill as she is, makes an effort and is carried 
 down stairs, and is found in the drawing-room harp in hand 
 ready to sing. Scott in his exhilaration makes the party 
 stand in a circle with hands joined, singing 
 
 Weel may we a' be, 
 111 may we never see. 
 
 ' The glee,' such is Miss Ferrier's comment, ' seemed forced 
 and unnatural. It touched no sympathetic chord ; it only 
 jarred the feelings ; it was the last attempt at gaiety I 
 witnessed within the walls of Abbotsford.' Is there any 
 reader of the letters or the ' Journal ' whose feelings have 
 not been just once and again 'jarred ' by ' forced and un- 
 natural glee' in reading passages where a somewhat 
 boisterous and, as it were, hectic semblance of mirth was 
 the mark of real depression ? 
 
CH. iv FIRST VISIT TO ABBOTSFORD 241 
 
 Nor need any admirer of Scott, however loyal, hold 
 Miss Ferrier much to blame for what her own generation 
 would have called a lack of sensibility, if she somewhat 
 failed to do justice to the merely mediaeval and romantic 
 side of Scott's genius. For if there is any discernment in 
 our love, the Scott who holds the inmost place in our 
 hearts is not the Scott of c Ivanhoe ' and * Marmion,' but 
 the Scott of ' Waverley ' and ' Red-gauntlet.' The inter- 
 preter of Froissart, the chronicler of pageantry, the painter 
 of tilt and battle, the storyteller of the greenwood, is ever 
 delightful because ever human and ever manly, But it is 
 only when joy in what is bright and love for what is 
 gallant are blended with hereditary traditions and domi- 
 nated by life-long associations that we have the Scott for 
 whose immortality none may doubt or fear. 
 
 The following letter supplements Miss Ferrier's later 
 and more formal reminiscences of her visit. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. KINLOCH 
 
 7 Nelson Street : November 5. 
 
 My dear Helen, I found your letter lying for me on 
 my return from Abbotsford. . . . All your other interests 
 I rejoice to think are well and prosperous. You will 
 naturally expect a narrative of my visit to Abbotsford, but 
 indeed I saw and heard a great deal too much to be able 
 to detail anything ; it was all very delightful, only too 
 exciting for one unaccustomed to soar beyond the sober 
 realities of every day life. Nothing could exceed the 
 kindness of Sir Walter and Miss Scott, and I was the more 
 gratified by his attention because I felt it was not all on 
 my own account, but for the respect and esteem I know he 
 entertained for our dear father, and a tribute to his memory 
 is more prized by me than any mere personal regard can 
 ever be. Miss Scott I found very amiable and agreeable 
 in domestic life, and she showed much kindness in pre- 
 senting me with various little remembrances, which, though 
 trifles in themselves, were gratifying as tokens of regard. 1 
 
 1 I have in my possession one of flat thin book, bound in red leather, 
 these tokens in the shape of a and inscribed in Miss Scott's writing, 
 
 R 
 
242 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 Mrs. Lockhart I also liked much ; she is veiy amusing, 
 and seems most warm hearted where she takes a liking. 
 She has been confined to bed for two months with what 
 was called rheumatism in her knee, though I believe the 
 medical people dreaded something worse ; however, she was 
 better, and expected to be able to rejoin her husband and 
 little boy in London very soon. The two children she had 
 with her are delightful creatures. She hopes to spend 
 next summer at her own cottage * (a little bijou within 
 the domain), and I have half promised to pay her a visit 
 there, also to return to Abbotsford and to spend some 
 time with my bosom friend Miss Margaret Fergusson ! 2 I 
 dined and spent a night at Huntley Burn, 3 but could not 
 spend more as my time was limited to nine days (the 
 period of all wonders), as I had to return to the preaching. 
 Miss M. Buchanan 4 was the only other resident guest, 
 but there were various occasional visitors, amongst others 
 Wilkie the Painter, who by some strange, I could almost 
 say shameful, oversight was allowed to depart without 
 showing his sketches ; he is very unlike his own works, 
 being a tall, sickly, grave, stiffish person. I talked of 
 Fred 5 to Sir Walter, and he says he would not attempt 
 to keep him back, but would allow him to go to Oxford as 
 soon as he is ready ; he is for giving great scope to Nature 
 in education. 
 
 It was on this visit that Miss Ferrier took Scott into 
 her confidence about her novels, and received from him the 
 advice which resulted in the severance with Blackwood. 
 
 ' Miss Ferrier, from her affectionate becoming to the solemn occasion she 
 
 friend, ANNE SCOTT. was cut short by Miss Fergusson : 
 
 Abbotsford: Monday, Oct. 26, 1829.' 'Ye need na say ony mair, Miss 
 
 My aunt has written below : Ferrier ; for Bell was aye a most tire- 
 
 * Remains of Sir Walter Scott's Album. some compainion. ' ( J. F. ) 
 1797-9.' (J- F.) 3 Where the Misses Fergusson 
 
 1 Chiefswood. (J. F.) lived. (J. F.) 
 
 2 The Miss Margaret Fergusson 4 Sir Walter's favourite * Missie,' 
 mentioned was a sister of Sir Adam's ; as he called her. Her father was one 
 she was quite a ' character. ' When of the brothers of the Clerk's Table, 
 her sister Isabella died Miss Ferrier (J. F.) 
 
 went to pay a visit of condolence, and 5 Her nephew, Frederick Kinloch. 
 
 when in the middle of a speech (J. F.) 
 
CH. iv INTIMACY WITH SCOTT 243 
 
 The intimacy was kept up during the winter of 1829, 
 and in the following July we read in the Journal 1 of 
 Miss Ferrier being invited to meet an American ' who 
 admired her prodigiously.' 
 
 The ' intimacy ' with Scott referred to in the following 
 letter 2 in all likelihood belongs to this period : 
 
 S. E. F. TO (PROBABLY] LADY CHARLOTTE BURY 
 
 Dear, Next to seeing the summer's sun and smelling 
 the summer's rose, nothing could have been more refreshing 
 to my sick spirit than the sight of your vivifying characters. 
 I confess I often lament, but indeed I never dare to repine at, 
 your silence, but, on the contrary, wonder and admire your 
 goodness in ever thinking of me at all. This has been a 
 very cruel winter to me, but I flatter myself the worst is 
 now over and that I may live to fight the same battle over 
 again, for life with me will always be a warfare, bodily as 
 well as spiritual perhaps, the more of the one the less of 
 the other ; at least it is a comfortable doctrine to believe 
 that the sickness oi the body often conduces to the health 
 of the soul, and I confess myself to be such an old-fashioned 
 Christian as to have faith in such things. I am now better- 
 hearted ; comes and amuses me very often, and crams 
 
 me with news and with novels, and tells me what is doing 
 in this round world, which otherwise might be standing 
 stock-still for me. And now, having said so much upon 
 so insignificant a subject as self, let me turn to a far more 
 interesting theme. Your description of your travels do 
 indeed set my feet moving and my heart longing to see all 
 you have seen ; and this desire has been increased by 
 reading the ' Corsair ' lately. . . . You were so kind as to 
 
 1 Journal, vol. vii. p. 343. mings from ' The Dairy of George IV. 
 
 2 This letter I copied from Diary I must confess myself rather puzzled 
 Ilhistrative of the Times of George IV., by this letter. In the Diary it is 
 a book attributed to Lady C. B., pub- placed as belonging to the year 1817. 
 lished 1838 and much abused at the Yet it is evident from the letter itself 
 time. It again made its appearance that it was written after Miss Ferrier 
 1896 as if quite a new work. (J. F.) had taken Scott into her confidence 
 
 Readers of Thackeray will not have about her novels 
 forgotten Mr. Yellowplush's Skim- 
 
 R 2 
 
244 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 say you would introduce me to Mrs. Apreece l and, inde- 
 pendent of everything else, I should have had great pleasure 
 in meeting with a person you liked. But in the first place I 
 feel 'tis only your extreme goodness that could have made 
 you propose it ; in the second it could only be for your 
 sake that Mrs. Apreece would submit to the penance of 
 visiting me ; so I think I had better remain in my native 
 obscurity, and not attempt to have the advantage of 
 knowing this lady, of whom report speaks so highly. I am 
 a wonderfully stupid person, having very little desire to see 
 the most celebrated individuals. Ill-health, I suppose, con- 
 tributes to the apathy of my feelings, and altogether I very 
 much resemble a dormouse in my habits and temperament ; 
 so if you please, dear, unless you wish to introduce me to 
 Mrs. A. in the character of Mrs. McLarty, I think I had 
 better forego the honour. With regard to my own per- 
 formances, I must confess I have heard so much of the 
 ways of booksellers and publishers lately that I find a 
 nameless author has no chance of making anything of the 
 business, and am quite dispirited from continuing my story 
 and very much doubt if it will see the light of day. .What 
 a loss to the world will be the suppression of this child of 
 genius ! Besides the cold water thrown on my estro by 
 these cruel personages, the forefinger of my right hand 
 (that most precious bit of an authoress's body) fell sick, 
 and you may judge of my alarm when the surgeon pro- 
 nounced it to have been poisoned he, in the ignorance 
 of his mind, supposed by some venomous particle it had 
 imbibed when working in the garden. But for my part I 
 have no doubt but it was a plot devised by all the great 
 novelists of the age, who, having heard what great things 
 it was about, had in the envy of their hearts laid their 
 plan for its destruction. However, their malice has been 
 defeated, as after being lanced and flayed alive, it is now 
 put into a black silk bag and treated with all the tenderness 
 due to its misfortunes. But, joking apart, should my book 
 
 1 Married, afterwards, Sir Humphry Davy. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. iv INTIMACY WITH SCOTT 245 
 
 be ever published, how shall I get a copy sent to you ? And, 
 dear, will you never > never say to anybody that it is 
 mine, and commit this epistle to the flames and not leave 
 it lying about ? I am become a person of such consequence 
 in my own eyes now, that I imagine the whole world is 
 thinking about me and my books. I turn red like a 
 lobster every time a novel is spoken of, and whenever the 
 word authoress is mentioned I am obliged to have recourse 
 to my smelling-bottle. I mean to send a narrative of my 
 sufferings to D'Israeli for the next edition of ' Calamities of 
 Authors.' 
 
 My chief happiness is enjoying the privilege of seeing 
 a good deal of the Great Unknown, Sir Walter Scott. He 
 is so kind and condescending that he deigns to let me and 
 my trash take shelter under the protection of his mighty 
 branches, and I have the gratification of being often in 
 that great and good man's society. A few evenings ago 
 he gave me some couplets he wrote for on*- friend Lady 
 which I have transcribed for your perusal, feeling 
 certain that the slightest production of his muse must give 
 every sensible and feeling mind infinite pleasure. The 
 great simplicity of character and unaffected affability of 
 this astonishing man's manners add infinite charms to his 
 disposition, and he is as delightful as a private indivi- 
 dual in society as he is supremely so in his works. The 
 society here nevertheless is a good deal broken up ; many 
 of your old acquaintances have forsaken our city for the 
 great Southern Babylon, and some are dead and others 
 grown poor or old ; in short, such changes have occurred as 
 
 generally fall to the lot of humanity. And now, dear 
 
 I will not longer tax your patience by adding more to this 
 voluminous letter, except the assurance that I shall never 
 cease to be your faithfully and obliged 
 
 S. F. 
 
246 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 MRS. LOCKHART TO S. E. F. 
 
 24 Sussex Place, Regent's Park : 
 Wednesday, 5. Postmark : May 5, 1830. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, 1 Lockhart and myself were 
 very sorry indeed to miss you yesterday, but it is quite out 
 of the question to hope to find any one at home this fine 
 weather. Will you then dine with us in a very quiet way 
 either Tuesday the nth or Thursday the I3th ? Our hour 
 is half after six. I trust one of these days will find you 
 disengaged. Lockhart is most anxious to make your 
 acquaintance. With best wishes from us both, believe me 
 to remain most sincerely yours, 
 
 C. SOPHIA LOCKHART. 
 
 MRS. LOCKHART TO S. E. F. 
 
 24 Sussex Place, Regent's Park : Tuesday. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I send you two autographs, 
 one of Southey and one of Thomas Moore's, both of which 
 I think you told me you had not. I cannot lay my hand 
 at this moment on one of Rogers 's, but you shall have one 
 soon, as I hear he is making most tender enquiries after 
 me, which I dare say will come to a little billet, upon the 
 eloquence of which he piques himself, and I promise it you. 
 I made out my journey well, but am still as helpless as ever, 
 and fear it will be long before I gain my legs. However, 
 I had the happiness of finding my little boy well for him ; 
 and delighted he was, poor fellow, to see me. 2 I remain, 
 dear Miss Ferrier, with best respects, in which permit 
 Lockhart to join, 
 
 Yours most faithfully, 
 
 C. SOPHIA LOCKHART. 
 
 WALTER SCOTT TO S. E. F. 
 
 Abbotsford : Tuesday evening. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, Anne returned to-day, and part 
 of her Edinburgh news informs me that you meditated 
 
 1 Addressed to Miss Ferrier, 19 2 'Hugh Littlejohn,' who died 
 
 Brunswick Square. December 15, 1831. 
 
CH. iv LETTERS FROM SCOTT 247 
 
 honouring your present literary offspring with my name. 
 So I do not let the sun set without saying how much I 
 shall feel myself obliged and honoured by such a compli- 
 ment. I will not stand bandying compliments on my want 
 of merit, but can swallow so great a compliment as if I 
 really deserved it ; and indeed, as whatever I do not owe 
 entirely to your goodness I may safely set down to your 
 friendship, I shall scarce be more flattered one way or the 
 other. I hope you will make good some hopes which 
 make Anne very proud, of visiting Abbotsford about April 
 next. Nothing can give the proprietor more pleasure, for 
 the birds, which are a prodigious chorus, are making of 
 their nests and singing in blithe chorus : ' Pray come, and 
 do not make this a flattering dream.' I know a little the 
 value of my future godchild, since I had a peep at some of 
 the sheets when I was in town during the great snowstorm, 
 which, out of compassion for an author closed up within 
 her gates, may prove an apology for his breach of confi- 
 dence. So far I must say that what I have seen has had 
 the greatest effect in making me curious for the rest. 
 
 Believe me, dear Miss Ferrier, with the greatest respect, 
 your most sincere, humble servant, 
 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 WALTER SCOTT TO S. E. F. 
 
 Abbotsford ' : Wednesday evening. 
 
 Dear Miss Ferrier, If I had a spark of gratitude in me 
 I ought to have written you well-nigh a month ago to 
 thank you in no common fashion for ' Destiny,' which by 
 the few and at the same time the probability of its 
 incidents your writings are those of the first person of 
 genius who has disarmed the little pedantry of the Court 
 of Cupid, and of gods and men, and allowed youths and 
 maidens to propose other alliances than those an early 
 choice had pointed out to them. I have not time to tell 
 
 1 Both these letters appeared in Temple Bar, November 1878. 
 
248 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 you all the consequences of my revolutionary doctrine. 
 All these we will talk over when you come here, which I 
 am rejoiced to hear is likely to be on Saturday next, when 
 Mr. Cadell will be happy to be your beau in the Blucher 
 [stage-coach], and we will take care are met with at the toll. 
 Pray do not make this a flattering dream. You are of the 
 initiated, so will not be de trop with Cadell. I am always, 
 with the greatest respect and regard, your faithful and 
 affectionate servant, 
 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 ANNE SCOTT TO S. E. F. 
 
 Sunday morning : Abbotsford. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I am so very, very sorry I have 
 been so long in answering your kind enquiries ; but indeed 
 I did write immediately after your second kind note, but 
 my letter slumbered in papa's desk about a fortnight, and 
 it looked so old, even in appearance, that I did not like to 
 send it, and more days passed on as I have been hurried 
 about people coming and not coming. In short, I would 
 have a thousand of good reasons were I to tell them to 
 you all, but I shall spare you the nine hundred and ninety- 
 eight. Papa is indeed quite well ; I never saw him better 
 in spite of reform and east wind ; and he really does take 
 great care in regard to diet and exercise. His spirits are 
 as good as possible, and, without having many people 
 staying here, we have had one or two of his old friends, 
 which, I think, does him much good to see. I am now 
 getting quite well myself, and, except on a cold day, have 
 no return of sore throat ; but I mean to take great care, and 
 not put myself under a country doctor's hands again with 
 their horrid pills and potions, as I am sure Dr. Clarkson 
 had nearly killed me with camomile. Papa was so delighted 
 with ' Destiny,' really and truly so. I need not say what 
 I thought of it ! My dear Miss Ferrier, I wish so much 
 papa would review it in the ' Quarterly,' or Lockhart. 
 
CH. iv LETTERS FROM ANNE SCOTT 249 
 
 Do tell me if you would like it to be done, for, though I am 
 an author's daughter, I don't know much about these things. 
 I expect Sophia and the children very soon, which will be 
 a great delight to me. Lockhart will leave them here and 
 return to London, so it will not be till July they will go to 
 the cottage. I have heard nothing from the Macdonalds ; 
 but it is my fault I have never written to them. I don't 
 know what has made me feel so lazy this some months 
 past. I must now, my dear Miss Ferrier, conclude, as 
 we are just going to walk with the cows abroad in the 
 meadows very pretty and pastoral. The Fergussons are 
 well ; at least, the gentlemen of the family are so. Poor 
 Margaret will never, I fear, be better, but at times she is in 
 good spirits. I hope, my dear Miss Ferrier, you do not 
 suffer so much from your eyes. I do hope you will come 
 here I am so sure the country would do you good ; and 
 indeed we would have so little light at night, and you 
 would, I hope, feel as much at home here as you could do 
 anywhere else. But I will not trouble you with more about 
 the matter, as I am sure you will come to us whenever you 
 can. . . . Ever believe me, dear Miss Ferrier, 
 
 Yours very affectionately, 
 
 A. SCOTT. 
 
 ANNE SCOTT TO S. E. F. 
 
 Abbotsford : Thursday. Postmark : April 29, 1831. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, Had I not well known how 
 kind you are I would have written before this, but I am so 
 sure of your pardon I shall make no apology. I have had 
 much anxiety and very much to write, both for papa and 
 also answering letters of enquiry, &c. Papa is recovering 
 slowly, but mere acquaintance would think him quite well. 
 In mind he has always been the same. In this last attack 
 he has never lost it, but I think his speech is not quite 
 right yet. Indeed, till it comes round the disease is still, I 
 fear, hanging about him. He is very irritable-, and will not 
 believe but it has been my insisting on him being bled 
 
250 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 that has made him ill. However, he has been much the 
 better of seeing Dr. Abercrombie, though all danger had 
 passed before he came ; but his influence in regard to diet 
 has been of very great use, and on that, I am well assured, 
 his life depends. I am vexed none of my own family have 
 yet come down. They treat his last attack too lightly, but 
 had they seen papa the two first days they would have 
 thought differently. It is indeed a frightful disease, and 
 comes when most unlocked for. I do, however, trust 
 Lockhart will come with Sophia and the children next 
 Tuesday. I have written to beg him to do this, were it 
 only for a day or two. Walter, I trust, also will get leave 
 and come down. I think papa is anxious to see them both. 
 I am pretty well myself, though suffering from over-fatigue 
 both in body and mind. Jane Erskine l was here during 
 his illness for four days, but was obliged to leave me on 
 account of the illness of a relation. She was very kind and 
 very active, though she had not too much of the latter 
 quality to be disagreeable. I hope, my dear Miss Ferrier, 
 your visit is only postponed, and that you will come to us 
 soon and, I trust, find all well. I have behaved so ill to the 
 Macdonalds, never having written, but mean to do so to- 
 day ; but indeed I find I have not spirits enough now to 
 waste upon paper. I look forward to the arrival of the 
 children with much pleasure, and Sophia will do, I am sure, 
 much good in amusing papa. I was much shocked at 
 seeing the death of the Duchess of Wellington in the 
 papers to-night. I answered a letter of hers yesterday, and 
 had no idea she was so ill. My dear Miss Ferrier, I do not 
 like to ask you to write, because I fear you might do so out 
 of kindness when it must be painful to you on account of 
 your eyes ; but if it is really not, a few lines would be 
 a great pleasure to me. I have so many letters from 
 acquaintances who do not care a bit for me, that one from 
 a friend will indeed be most gratifying, and you have been 
 
 1 Daughter of Lord Kinnedder, an old friend of Scott's, and a Lord of 
 Session, Edinburgh. (J. F.) 
 
CH. iv LETTERS FROM ANNE SCOTT 251 
 
 so kind as to allow me to be so. I shall conclude with 
 every kind wish from myself and papa. 
 
 Your very affectionate 
 
 A. SCOTT. 
 
 ANNE SCOTT TO S. E. F. 
 
 Postmark : May 10, 1831. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I thank you for your kind 
 letter. I am glad to say the doctor now thinks papa has 
 quite got over this last attack ; his pulse is now good, and 
 all the bad symptoms have disappeared. We do most 
 sincerely hope you will now pay us the long-promised 
 visit, which has been so unhappily retarded. Any day 
 this week we shall be delighted to see you. Papa dines 
 always alone, but breakfasts with us and drinks tea. Sophia 
 and the children have arrived, and poor little Johnny, who 
 is very delicate just now, but that is always the case in 
 spring. The others are quite well with new nursery maids^ 
 which is a great comfort. . . . Flora or, as we call her, 
 Mrs. McDow is blooming on the banks of the Tweed, 
 and dispersing her smiles like her fair namesake. I was so 
 delighted with her objections to ' Destiny,' which was the 
 contempt with which Mr. McDow's luncheon was held. I 
 have promised her ducks and leek soup to dinner some 
 day soon. Will you write a few lines, my dear Miss 
 Ferrier, and say what day you will come to us ? I delayed 
 writing till to-day, because I believe that this last week 
 you were engaged with church. Sophia and papa desire to 
 unite with me in kindest regards. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. LOCKHART 
 
 My dear Mrs. Lockhart, You little know what you are 
 doing when you invite me to join your party by steam, for 
 I am sure you could scarcely find in all London a less 
 agreeable (to say the least of myself) companion ; and 
 much as I like you, and long to see you and Mr. 
 Lockhart, I trust we may never meet at sea ! I expected 
 
252 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 to have been on the high road to Edinburgh with my 
 brother before now, but he has been detained by some 
 cross purposes in business, and I am waiting from day to 
 day in hopes every one is to be the last. My sight has 
 become so much worse since I came here that I am now 
 very anxious to be home. I made a mad-like attempt to 
 see you a few days ago, and shall make a wise- like one 
 some morning if I do not set off to-morrow or next day. 
 Dear Mrs. Lockhart, I am, 
 
 Truly and affectionately yours, 
 
 S. E. FERRIER. 
 
 The visit thus proposed took place in May. 1 Among 
 the qualities which make Lockhart the envy and the 
 despair of biographers is his power of bringing out by a 
 few effective touches the subordinate personages of his 
 drama, unobtrusively and without any check or hindrance 
 to his main purpose. His description of Miss Ferrier's 
 kindly thoughtfulness would be marred by any para- 
 phrase : 
 
 ' To assist them in amusing him in the hours which he 
 spent out of his study, and especially that he might be 
 tempted to make those hours more frequent, his daughters 
 had invited his friend the authoress of " Marriage " to come 
 out to Abbotsford ; and her coming was serviceable. For 
 she knew and loved him well, and she had seen enough of 
 affliction akin to his to be well skilled in dealing with it. 
 She could not be an hour in his company without observing 
 what rilled his children with more sorrow than all the rest 
 of the case. He would begin a story as gaily as ever, 
 and go on, in spite of the hesitation in his speech, to tell it 
 with highly picturesque effect ; but before he could reach 
 the point, it would seem as if some internal spring had 
 given way he paused and gazed round him with the 
 blank anxiety of look that a blind man has when he has 
 dropped his staff. Unthinking friends sometimes pained 
 him sadly by giving him the catch-word abruptly. I 
 noticed the delicacy of Miss Ferrier on such occasions. 
 Her sight was bad, and she took care not to use her 
 
 1 Any one who reads only Miss But Lockhart and the Journal leave 
 Ferrier's account of this visit would no room for doubt, 
 suppose that it was paid in 1830. 
 
CH. iv LETTERS FROM ANNE SCOTT 253 
 
 glasses when he was speaking ; and she affected to be 
 also troubled with deafness, and would say, " Well, I am 
 getting as dull as a post ; I have not heard a word since 
 you said so-and-so," being sure to mention a circumstance 
 behind that at which he had really halted. He then took 
 up the thread with his habitual smile of courtesy as if 
 forgetting his case entirely in the consideration of the 
 lady's infirmity.' 1 
 
 How fully her good gifts were understood and valued 
 by Scott himself is shown by his description of her in the 
 ' Journal ' : ' Miss Ferrier comes out to us. This gifted 
 personage, besides having great talents, has conversation 
 the least exigeante of any author, female at least, whom I 
 have ever seen among the long list I have encountered 
 with ; simple, full of humour, and exceedingly ready at 
 repartee ; and all this without the least affectation of the 
 bluestocking.' 2 And with a repetition not very common 
 with him Scott returns to the subject three days later : 
 1 1 wrote and rode as usual, and had the pleasure of Miss 
 Ferrier's company in my family hours, which was a great 
 satisfaction ; she has certainly less affectation than any 
 female I have ever known that has stood so high Joanna 
 Baillie hardly excepted.' 3 
 
 Cheerful and companionable Miss Ferrier may have 
 been, but it was from no insensibility to the tragedy 
 before her eyes. No record of those latter days is sadder 
 than her picture of Scott, spent and broken, sitting by his 
 dying grandson : * the child of so much pride and promise ! 
 now, alas ! how changed.' ' Disease and death were stamped 
 upon the grandsire and the boy as they sat side by side, 
 with averted eyes, each as if in the bitterness of his own 
 heart refusing to comfort or be comforted.' 
 
 The following letter, written immediately after Miss 
 Ferrier's visit, shows with how much happy kindliness she 
 could identify herself with the home life of her friends : 
 
 ANNE SCOTT TO S. E. F. 
 
 May 1831. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I make use of Flora as a 
 private opportunity to thank you for your kind present to 
 the children. Walter desires me to give you his love, and 
 
 1 Life of Scott (ed. 1839), vol. x. 2 Lockhart '(ed. 1839), vol. x. p. 70. 
 
 p. 68. 8 Scott's Jottrnal, vol. xi. p. 407. 
 
254 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 he is very much obliged to you. Baby's doll, as she calls 
 it, gives her great pleasure and appears most beautiful in 
 her eyes. It has a strong resemblance to an old school 
 companion of mine, so I also feel a sort of sentiment for it. 
 Lockhart desires me to say he has been practising the 
 precepts of your sermons, having only taken one tumbler 
 and a bottle of small beer every day. Flora has been 
 spending some days here. Last night, after a plentiful 
 dinner of haggis, I took her to see Melrose Abbey. In 
 short, I have been doing all in my power to give her a 
 little sentiment, but I cannot say with much effect, and 
 Princes Street and the Dragoons will finish her. I am 
 sure, my dear Miss Ferrier, you will be glad to hear that 
 papa is now much better, both in regard to his speech and 
 in every other respect. He attended both elections and 
 was not the worse of it, but I am quite glad they are over. ! 
 I expect my brother Walter to-morrow for a few days. 
 He has been obliged to come down for the Fife election. 
 The children are making such a noise I don't know what 
 I write, and Lockhart is shaking the table so it is like 
 writing during a earthquake, so I had better conclude my 
 scrawl, but not without thanking you very much for the 
 trouble you took about the little books, which were quite 
 what I wished. Lockhart and Sophia desire to unite 
 with me in kindest love to you, and ever believe me to 
 remain, 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 ANNE SCOTT. 
 
 Abbotsford : Friday morning. 
 
 Will you remember me to Mrs. and Miss Graham ? 
 We are all determined to believe you will come to us 
 
 1 Those Jedburgh and Selkirk weavers ' lined the streets, grossly 
 
 elections described by Lockhart (vol. x. insulting everyone who did not wear 
 
 p. 74), when Sir Walter was hooted, the reforming colours, and when 
 
 stoned, and spat upon, and left the the Tory candidate for Selkirk ' was 
 
 borough in the midst of abuse and grievously maltreated, but escaped 
 
 the gentle hint of ' Burk Sir Walter,' murder, though narrowly.' 
 while ' a disciplined rabble of Hawick 
 
CH. iv DEATH OF SCOTT 255 
 
 during the summer. I sent the book to Margaret Fergusson. 
 She is just the same, one day well and another ill. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. KINLOCH 
 
 July 3, 1831. 
 
 My dear Helen, I have so little to write about I 
 think I must soon cease to write at all ; my days pass 
 away in darkness and silence, like shadows that leave not 
 a trace behind. I lament my uselessness, and fear it must 
 be my own fault that I am such a mere cumberer of the 
 ground, since none were ever designed to be such. Alas ! 
 ' the night cometh when no man can work,' as is the case 
 with that mighty genius which seems now completely 
 quenched ; well might he be styled ' a bright and benignant 
 luminary,' for, while all will deplore the loss of that bright 
 intellect which has so long charmed a world, many will 
 still more deeply lament the warm and steady friend whose 
 kind, generous influence was ever freely diffused on all 
 whom it could benefit. 
 
 ANNE SCOTT TO S. E. F. 1 
 
 November 28, 1832 : Sussex Place, Regent's Park. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, Thank you very much for your 
 kind letter and the book you were so kind as to send me. 
 I need not say how much / value it. I would have written 
 to you long ago, as I promised, had I been able ; but indeed 
 I was not, and though I do feel most grateful to God that 
 poor papa is at rest, still the recollections of past days and 
 home are hard to bear. But I will not dwell on the past 
 it can do no good. Sophia arid the children are quite well. 
 I wish I could say the same of Lockhart ; but he has had 
 an attack the same he had after the death of his poor boy, 
 which is that his pulse gets so very low as to make the 
 medical people think at least that there was disease of the 
 heart. This, thank God, is not the case ; but he has been 
 
 1 When this letter was written, Miss Scott had lost her father. (J. F. ) 
 
256 SIR WALTER SCOTT CH. iv 
 
 writing so much and, I fear, also smoking in short, he has 
 far too much to do for his strength of constitution, but I 
 do trust that now he has consented to do as Dr. Holland 
 wishes we shall soon see him quite well. And now, my 
 dear Miss Ferrier, how are you, and are your eyes stronger ? 
 I should like very much indeed to hear from you some- 
 times. Amongst the many I do regret in Scotland they 
 are few whose friendship I value so much as yours ; and 
 though we, I fear, may not meet soon, if we ever do, I shall 
 always feel most interested about everything regarding 
 you. I suppose dear Missy is in town. 
 
 Jemima * married ! It appears to me so many changes 
 have happened since I left England. I have never written 
 to Jemima, but do tell her I mean to do so soon. I would 
 not have thought it good luck to write a melancholy letter 
 to a bride. I am so glad she is so happy, but why does 
 not Missy marry? The generous public have been so 
 good as to give me tivo husbands^ which is contrary to law 
 Captain Pigot and Mr. Baillie. Now I would sooner 
 marry all the ship's company than the said captain ; and as 
 for Mr. Baillie, he happens to be the brother of an intimate 
 friend of mine, Mrs. Ashley, who was, I dare say you know, 
 the fashionable London beauty for two seasons ; and 
 because he lived for six months in the same palazzo at 
 Naples, I do not see why I should marry her brother. I 
 wish I could tell you any news, but there is none here . . . 
 Yet there is no change in anybody's living, and the expected 
 revolution is like the comet : it never has appeared, though 
 Lockhart and Sophia foretell it every day. I saw Mrs. 
 Leigh, Lord Byron's sister, yesterday ; I never saw a more 
 broken-hearted-looking person. She seems, poor thing, 
 as if no end was ever to come to her distresses. One of 
 her daughters, a very beautiful girl, has eloped with her 
 brother-in-law, and the poor wife is left with a large family 
 dependent on her mother ; it is one of the most horrid 
 things that ever I heard of. By-the-bye, I am to see 
 
 1 She married Sir Alexander Leith, Bart. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. TV ANNE SCOTT 257 
 
 Madame Guiccioli to-day, Lord Byron's last love ; I heard 
 so much of her in Italy I am anxious to see her ; the 
 meeting is to take place at my elevee cousin's, Lady Davy's. 1 
 And now, my dear Miss Ferrier, I have written you a long 
 letter, or rather a long scrawl, for it does not deserve the 
 name of a letter ; and with kindest regards from Lockhart 
 and Sophia, ever believe me, 
 
 Your most affectionate 
 
 A. SCOTT. 
 
 1 See p. 244. Lady Holland compensed with the fair and healthy 
 writes in an unpublished letter : hand of the blue stocking widow 
 'Professor Davy is about to be re- Apreece.' 
 
2 5 8 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS 
 
 IF Miss Ferrier did show in some respects an inadequate 
 comprehension of Scott, in one point at least she succeeded 
 to a full share of his spirit. The claims and pretensions 
 of literature did not sit more lightly upon him than they 
 did on the author of ' Marriage.' No one reading the later 
 letters, with their record of commonplace events, their 
 quiet, unstudied, unepigrammatic criticisms, would imagine 
 that he was in the presence of one who, before she had 
 completed her fiftieth year, had produced work which 
 gives her an abiding place among English classics. Yet 
 withal they are, without the least touch of morbid self- 
 consciousness, thoroughly self-revealing : and there lies their 
 claim upon us, that they furnish the self- drawn portrait 
 clear, wholesome, and unaffected in treatment of one to 
 whom literature owes much. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Nelson Street : September 6, 1832. 
 
 My dear Janet, I am happy to say I have at last 
 found a meet partner in Mr. David Welsh, and my place 
 is taken in the Saturday's ' Mail,' I should have preferred 
 another night, but as he had no choice I had none. I ex- 
 pected to have been with you long ere now, but I fear I 
 shall be soon enough, as I doubt if I shall be able to endure 
 even your autumnal brightness. Mrs. John has had a 
 better night, but has made no progress towards recovery. 
 Walter left all well at Sloebiggin l yesterday. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 I shall be just in time to open the Circuit. 
 
 1 On the Broxmouth estate near Duchess of Roxburgh to Walter 
 Dunbar. It was lent by the Dowager Ferrier for the summer. (J. F. ) 
 
THE CHOLERA 259 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. KIN LOCH 
 Conheath : October 5. Postmark : October 12, 1832. 
 
 My dear Helen, I ought to have written to you before 
 now to have assured you of our safety in the midst of the 
 pestilence that has been raging around us ; but truly my 
 spirit sank within me every time I attempted to bear 
 record to the dismal scenes that have been passing in this 
 neighbourhood, though, thank God, we know them only 
 by report. The papers will give you some idea of the 
 work of destruction that has been going on in Dumfries, 
 but you cannot conceive the consternation that prevailed 
 when cholera reported [sic] to have broken out at Kirkton, 
 and as ascertained to be actually at the Quay ! Even I, 
 though far from being an alarmist, felt as if we could 
 scarcely expect to escape its visitation ; but the mercy of 
 God has preserved us, while others (we may hope, also in 
 mercy) have been taken away from evil to come. A poor 
 man at the Quay had but just recovered from the pestilence 
 himself when one of his children died of it, and as no 
 human being would assist him he had to convey the body 
 himself all the long solitary way to Caerlaverock church- 
 yard, not a soul accompanying him ; on his return home 
 he found another had died in his absence ! Nothing can 
 exceed the desolation that reigns all around. I have just 
 had a very distressing letter from John, informing me that 
 the medical people have little hope of his wife's ultimate 
 recovery, as her strength is fast sinking. 1 That is what I 
 have always feared would come to pass. You may imagine 
 his anguish ! . . . I would fain hope a day or two may 
 effect a change here, and I shall set off instantly for 
 Edinburgh. Would that I could be a help to any ! But, 
 alas ! I feel as if I were rather a burden. 
 
 1 She died January 1833, at 12 York Place, Edinburgh, aged 49. (J. F.) 
 
 S 2 
 
260 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 1832. 
 
 My dear Janet, Although I have almost ceased from 
 letter-writing, I cannot allow Mr. C. to depart without 
 a single word from me, knowing that he is not a man of 
 many words or, at least, not of words enough to satisfy 
 your enquiring mind. After this preamble you will expect 
 a vast deal of miscellaneous information to be poured forth, 
 and will be much disappointed. I must have lost the art 
 of either hearing or communicating intelligence, for I really 
 never have anything to tell. My sphere of observation, 
 to be sure, is very circumscribed, as I am confined to a 
 dark room all day, and only creep out in the evening to 
 visit some one or other of my many sick friends ; for the 
 whole town has been ill, and this is one of the very few 
 houses that has hitherto escaped the influenza. Mrs. 
 Walter has had it very severely, but is on the way to re- 
 covery ; and Walter does not seem to have gained much 
 by his London trip, but I hope the good effects are yet to 
 come. I am happy to think you have a jaunt in prospect, 
 as I am sure you will enjoy it, and travelling agrees with 
 you. If I go anywhere it will certainly be to you by-and- 
 bye ; but I suffer so much from the common light of day 
 I really cannot associate with anybody, and nobody can 
 associate with me. My eyes are worse than they were 
 last summer, so you may judge how unfit I am for 
 society ; but I have great cause of thankfulness to God for 
 the support and consolation He affords me under this trial, 
 and, knowing that it is of His appointment and may be for 
 my ultimate good, I am well content to take whatever He 
 sees best to bestow. We are too ignorant to know what is 
 really and essentially good, and too impatient to be happy 
 our own way to be satisfied with receiving our portion of 
 ' daily bread ' even from the hand of God. You'll think 
 this is too serious a strain for a letter ; but such thoughts 
 are a great solace to me, and so I cannot help expressing 
 
CH. v LETTER TO MRS. CONNELL 261 
 
 them to others now and then. I have heard from Jane 
 since her arrival at the Hall? and I hope she will enjoy it, 
 but I have no intention of going there. She was in great 
 health and beauty when she left this ; so, whatever odium 
 attaches to this house, it has not injured her, and so I hope 
 to see her back again, if we are both alive, next winter. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS, CONNELL 
 
 February 1833. 
 
 My dear Janet, I know not how long it is since I 
 wrote to you, but it seems a long time since I heard either 
 of or from you ; so immediately on receipt of this I beg 
 you or one of the girls will write me a few lines. As the 
 winter will soon be over, I trust so your aches and pains 
 will take their departure too ; but at present the weather is 
 so stormy that, in spite of the old saying, I don't think it 
 can blow good to anybody. There is scarcely a house 
 where there is not an invalid. Jane 2 has had a very bad 
 cold and been confined for a week, but to-day (though not 
 recovered) she is gone to dine with the Edmonstones, who 
 give a fete previous to Mrs. H. and D. 3 setting out on a 
 tour of visits through Renfrewshire, and to visit some old 
 friends who they think must be dropping off soon ! Not 
 a word of their own dropping off indeed, they seem rather 
 provoked at people for being ill, and I dare say they would 
 give you a good scold for allowing such a crochet to enter 
 your head as that you could be indisposed with your 
 charming constitution ! They are in great delight at 
 having it announced that Sir Archibald's lady is to add 
 a twig to the family tree, and is to come here for the 
 purpose, that it may be a Scotch plant. Mrs. Walter has 
 been very unwell again, but is now better, though not 
 much to be depended upon. Walter and the children are 
 well, and John and his family are all in good health and 
 
 1 Stuart Hall, near Stirling. Mrs. 2 Mrs. Graham, who now lived 
 
 Graham, after her husband's death, with her. (J. F.) 
 
 took up her abode in Edinburgh with 3 Mrs. Halliday and Miss Dalmeny 
 
 her sister. (J. F. ) Edmonstone. 
 
262 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 better in spirits than could have been expected. I have 
 not seen the Riddells very lately, but I believe they are 
 all well, poor things ! I don't know what plan will be 
 adopted for them, but I fear they will be all dispersed 
 amongst relations, which is a very sad termination. I 
 don't know what Jane's plans will be, and, indeed, I believe 
 she is much at a loss what to decide upon herself. I have 
 offered to let this house and take a larger one if she will 
 agree to reside in Edinburgh during the winter months 
 leaving her at liberty to do as she likes during the 
 summer ; but she has not yet come to any determination, 
 and there are so many different schemes afloat in her 
 family that it is difficult for her to decide so as to please 
 all prudence out of the question. She has been reading 
 to me the ' Life of Sir David Baird,' which is extremely 
 interesting ; both Mr. C. and you would, I am sure, 
 enjoy it much, so I hope it is in the Dumfries Library. I 
 have also read the * Young Christian/ and think it excellent 
 for old as well as young. Mrs. Crichton l sent a letter ot 
 introduction by a Miss Maxwell 2 to me some weeks ago, 
 but I was confined to bed with a cold when she called, and 
 as she lives in George Square I have not had it in my 
 power either to see or serve her ; will you mention this to 
 Mrs. Crichton when you happen to see her ? We had a 
 little tea match lately, and Miss Bushnan was of the party, 
 also Mrs. John Hay, who is a very agreeable, intelligent 
 person ; 3 this has been our only attempt at gaiety. My 
 eyes are so weak I can scarcely endure now the shaded 
 light of a single candle, yet I don't think' the cataract is 
 forming, which makes the case worse. I am happy to hear 
 Mary and her babe are thriving 4 so well, by-and-bye he will 
 be a great acquisition at Conheath. The stormy weather 
 has made fish scarce, or I should have sent you some before 
 
 1 Daughter of Sir Robert Grierson, and a cousin of Lord Stratford de 
 of Lag. (J. F.) Redcliffe. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Niece of Mrs. Crichton. (J. F.) 4 Her niece, Mrs. Bushnan, nee 
 
 3 Wife of Dr. Hay, in Edinburgh ; Connell. 
 she was an Irish lady, a Miss Patrick, 
 
CH. v LETTER TO MRS. CONNELL 263 
 
 now, but I hope in the course of the week the hadies will 
 be showing their heads above water it has certainly been 
 a good wind for them. 
 
 S. . F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Toravon * : June 30. 
 
 My dear Janet, I am sorry my billet to James should 
 have caused such a panic in the family. I am so little of 
 an alarmist myself I am apt to forget how sensitive some 
 of my friends are in that respect, and certainly whatever 
 effect the outside of my letters may produce, their contents 
 are seldom calculated to produce much sensation, being 
 commonly of a sedative description. I wish Mr. C. and 
 you had remained longer at Moffat, since you both 
 found yourselves so much benefited by it ; but I trust you 
 will repeat your visit and extend your limits at least as far 
 as Edinburgh, and then it is hoped you will take an hour's 
 trip to Toravon. I came with Walter on Friday evening, 
 and found all in great beauty and order ; he returned on 
 Monday morning, leaving me with the youngsters, with 
 whom I have been living most comfortably and happily, 
 and find them all kindness and attention in a quiet way. 
 Agnes is really a most amiable and estimable creature, as 
 well as a pleasant, cheerful companion ; she is looking 
 forward to her visit to Conheath with much pleasure, and 
 I think she will be the better of a change, for she has had 
 much to do one way and another for some time past, 
 and she is so free from all selfish considerations. She is 
 always occupied about others, and (as she is not very 
 strong) sometimes too regardless of herself; that is 
 certainly a blessed disposition, as seen in our good old 
 friend Miss Edmonstone, whose heart is still so overflow- 
 ing with benevolence and practical kindness ; she seems 
 quite happy and never finds time hang heavily on her 
 hands, what few can say, who have far ampler materials of 
 enjoyment than she possesses. 
 
 1 Mr. Walter Terrier's country house in Linlithgowshire. (J. F.) 
 
264 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 istfufy. I can say little for the weather till yester- 
 day, which was fine, and to-day is pleasant, and the hearts 
 of the farmers must be rejoicing in the luxuriance of 
 the crops. Walter is expected to-day accompanied by 
 Eleanor. As James went to town this morning for a day or 
 two, there is accommodation for two guests at a time, 
 which could not otherwise be ; but I take my departure on 
 Monday, when Walter returns. However, the transit from 
 Nelson Street is so easy I shall probably return very soon ; 
 it is such an inducement for an owl like me to be able to 
 1 fly by night.' 
 
 Saturday. We had the agreeable addition of Colonel 
 Hamilton yesterday at dinner ; he had left all well at 
 Cairnhill in the morning and met Walter in Linlithgow, 
 came here with him, and left for Cathlaw (his place near 
 Linlithgow) in the evening, and was to return to Ayrshire 
 to-day ; so much for Margaret's information. 1 I am glad to 
 hear she is so well ; she seems to thrive best in England, 
 like many others. I missed seeing Mrs. Lester [her 
 cousin, General Ferrier's daughter], but shall probably meet 
 her on her return from Aberdeenshire ; she is a most 
 meritorious creature, by all accounts, and must have done 
 her part well to hold the respectable position she does. 
 Lest I should forget when the time comes, I may as well 
 mention that Mrs. Cuming of Logic begged me to bespeak 
 her winter butter from you. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 . . . Your mention of Miss Gillies 2 made me blush at the 
 bone for not having long since executed your commission 
 of getting my mother's picture copied. 3 I think I told 
 you Miss Arnot (who was to have done it) had died, and I 
 could not hear of anybody else to do it at a reasonable 
 
 1 Colonel Hamilton's sister, Miss was painted 1765, by Sir George 
 Wallace Ferrier. (J. F.) Chalmers, Bart., a pupil of Allan 
 
 2 The miniature painter. (J. F. ) Rumsay's, and when she was Mis 
 
 3 This portrait of my great-grand- Coutts. (J. F.) 
 mother is now in my possession ; it 
 
CH. v MISS FERRIER'S MINIATURE 265 
 
 rate ; but as Sir Adam F. 1 says I am ' a complete screw, 
 perhaps I am too limited in my terms, so please let me 
 know what are yours, or whether you will get it copied 
 yourself .... 
 
 Of the following correspondent Mr. John Ferrier writes 
 thus: 
 
 1 Thorburn, the eminent minature painter, was from his 
 boyhood known to Miss Ferrier, whose minature he painted, 
 and when he went to London he never forgot his early 
 friend and patron, to whom he wrote now and then of his 
 prosperous career. Miss Ferrier never liked the portrait of 
 her painted by Thorburn, and wrote, " This picture must 
 upon no account be shown to Mr. Thorburn, as it would 
 certainly displease him to see how it has been marred as a 
 painting since it came from his hands. In consequence of 
 its having twice sustained injury, first from damp, then 
 from an accident, it was each time committed to pro- 
 fessional artists here, who did their best to repair the 
 damage ; but, not satisfied with their repairs, a bungling 
 amateur next undertook the task, who made bad worse." 
 The likeness is supposed to have been taken thirty years 
 ago S. E. F. ' 2 [Written in 1842.] 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN TO S. E. F. 
 
 Craig-y-Don, Anglesea : October 20, 1838. 
 
 Dean madam, I thought it would be better to delay 
 writing to you until the close of the season in London, 
 when I would be enabled to acquaint you more fully of my 
 success. I have now quitted the metropolis to recruit my 
 health in the country, and, having a little leisure, hasten to 
 write to you. This spring I sent eight miniatures to be 
 
 1 Fergusson. (J. F.) fabric in the shape of a bonnet that 
 
 2 The miniature in question forms she has on. She generally, I have 
 the frontispiece to Dent's edition of been told, wore a bonnet in the 
 her novels. This miniature is now house, perhaps as a screen to her 
 in my possession, and the great fault eyes. (J. F.) 
 
 in it, to my mind, is the gigantic 
 
266 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 exhibited at the Royal Academy, one of them a portrait of 
 Sir George Anson. 1 They were received favourably and 
 hung in good places. I was gratified to learn from some 
 of my friends who visited the exhibition shortly after it 
 opened that I had improved. And I very soon had sub- 
 stantial proof of this in the shape of as many sitters as I 
 could possibly paint, and at my new terms, namely twenty 
 guineas for a half-length. My income has been more than 
 sufficient for my expenses. The surplus I have laid aside 
 for further study, and my luck has been better than my 
 merit deserved ; but the less I say about this the better, 
 as you will be apt to imagine I am dishonest. My health 
 has been good all the season in town ; for this I am much 
 indebted to the excellent advice I received at Slowbiggin 
 from Mrs. Ferrier. I have been living a short time at 
 Craig-y-Don, the beautiful residence of Mr. Williams, M.P., 
 situated on the banks of Menai Strait, close to the bridge. 
 Being in such an interesting county my sketchbook and I 
 have had a close acquaintance. I shall in a very few days 
 leave for my native country, returning to London by 
 Edinburgh, when I shall have much gratification in waiting 
 upon you. 
 
 S. E. F, TO HER NEPHEW JAMES FERRIER * 
 
 Edinburgh : August I. 
 
 My dear James, I could not get a letter to Lord 
 Corehouse's German sister (Countess Purgstall), as it seems 
 she is in bad health and not fit to entertain vagabonds, but 
 I enclose a very kind one from my friend Mrs. Erskine to 
 the Ambassadress at Munich, and if you don't go there 
 you may send it by post, as it will be welcome at any time 
 on its own account. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 1 Sir G. Anson's daughter married, many, in 1834, his aunt wrote to him 
 1836, Miss Ferrier's nephew, Mr. (the only scrap of her writing to him 
 Kinloch. (J. F.) that I know of). (J. F.) 
 
 2 When my father went to Ger- 
 
CH. v RELIGIOUS BELIEFS 267 
 
 S. E. F. TO HER SISTER MRS. KINLOCH^ 
 
 March, 1836. 
 
 Dearest Helen, I should indeed have been shocked 
 had I heard from any hand but your own of what you had 
 undergone, for well can I enter into the sufferings of mind 
 and body on such an occasion ; but your kind note testified 
 that all had gone well with you, and deeply do I share, my 
 dear sister, in your gratitude to God for having supported 
 and preserved you under this trial. Oh that the Great 
 Physician of souls may bless this and every such dispensa- 
 tion by making them the means of bringing us to Him, 
 who alone can heal our infirmities, in whose hand are the 
 issues of life and death. I feel much more than I express 
 on this subject. I experience so much happiness myself, 
 even in the small measure I have yet attained of the know- 
 ledge of God as revealed to us in Jesus Christ that I would 
 fain impart it to others. But yet I am aware nothing 
 injures a cause more than injudicious zeal, and they who 
 can ' search the Scriptures ' and pray to be taught by them 
 lack little of human exhortation. May this be so with you 
 and yours, dear sister. And this reminds me to recommend 
 a work to Mr. K., which to one of his penetrating and 
 searching mind I am sure will interest and entertain him 
 beyond any books of travels he ever read. I mean * Keith 
 on the Evidence of Prophecy ' ; it is in one volume, and I 
 sent it by Henry (when he was last here) that you might 
 all read it, but especially Mr. K., as I am certain he will 
 like it even as a curious book. With my kind regards ask 
 him to read it first for my sake. . . . 
 
 I dare say you heard how Agnes Callander had eloped 
 with a young man who had nothing but his lieutenancy 
 and the liver ; so they dread going to India, and some of 
 his friends think of New South Wales and are desirous of 
 getting every information about it ; so if you can send me 
 any of Fred's letters, or some extracts from them, they would 
 
 1 Mrs. Kinloch had just recovered from a serious illness. (J. F. ) 
 
268 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 be very acceptable. The Walters returned from Dumfries, 
 both looking ill. Mrs. G. 1 had settled her bit, house, and 
 what she had on Agnes 2 soon after she was born (I believe), 
 buf she will be a very small heiress, poor thing ! I hope 
 Loo's 3 riches won't make her set her heart on them, for 
 they become a great snare. ' To whom much is given, of 
 them much is required.' * Blessed is he that considereth 
 the poor,' and blessed may they account themselves to whom 
 God gives the power and the will to administer to the 
 wants of others. John is also in bed with a bad cold, and 
 all my intimates are ill, so I'm seldom out of a sick room 
 .... Jane writes me that she expects to make this head- 
 quarters, which is a pleasant prospect for me. The 
 weather was summer, and is now winter Thursday and 
 Friday. 
 
 MISS HOPE MACKENZIE TO S. E. F. (1837) 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 My dear friend, The snow seems little likely to relent 
 and let you come here, so I think I must tell you my 
 matter this way, that you may think over it before we 
 meet. Louisa 4 applied to me to persuade you to listen 
 favourably to a request she was authorised to make to you 
 (through her connection Mr. Sutherland Mackenzie) that 
 you would accept iooo/. for a volume anything from you 
 (these are Louisa's words), which a friend of Mr. S. M.'s, 
 a gentleman in the line from London, is most anxious to 
 get from you. Now, dear friend, how much pleasure may 
 you give, and how much good would you do with your 
 thousand pounds ! But I will wait for your ears and not 
 tax your eyes with more. I am keeping better, and had a 
 pleasant long journal from Montpellier, from Holt, 5 to help 
 to cheer the storm yesterday. Alas ! but poor accounts of 
 
 1 Mrs. Gordon, mother of Mrs. (J. F.) 
 
 W. Ferrier ; she was a Kirkpatrick, 4 Mrs. Forbes, of Medwyn (nee 
 
 and cousin of the grandfather of the Gordon Cummins) ; she was a great 
 
 Empress of the French. (J. F. ) friend of Miss Ferrier, and a relative 
 
 2 Her niece, Agnes Ferrier. (J. F. ) of the Mackenzies. (J. F. ) 
 
 3 Another niece, Louisa Kinloch. 3 Her brother. (J. F.) 
 
CH. v DEATH OF MR. KINLOCH 269 
 
 our dear little boy at Ripon, much pain and much anxiety, 
 though still hope, which supports his dear mother, who 
 yet, I am sure, desires to say the Lord's will be done. 
 How are you and yours ? 
 
 Ever your loving 
 
 H. M. 
 
 On the back of this note Miss Ferrier wrote, ' I made 
 two attempts to write something^ but could not please 
 myself, and would not publish ' anything' 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. KINLOCH ' l 
 
 Friday, April 2. 
 
 My dearest sister, You will understand why I have 
 been so long of writing to you. Had I felt less I could 
 have said more, but every time I attempted to write was 
 a renewal of anguish, which in the wretched state of my 
 eyes quite unfitted me for the sad task. But I will not 
 excite either your feelings or my own by writing at all on 
 the subject ; you well know you have my tenderest 
 sympathy, but your strength and consolation, my dear 
 sister, must come from a higher source. You have many 
 ties to bind you to this life, and that makes it the more 
 difficult, but not the less necessary, to look beyond it for 
 that happiness which is never under any circumstances to 
 be found on earth. Since my dear father's death I have 
 felt this world is indeed no resting place for the affections ; 
 the most promising life is uncertain, and the longest is but 
 short ; but we have the blessed hope set before us that 
 through the merits of our Saviour we shall in His everlast- 
 ing kingdom again be united to those we so fondly loved 
 in this imperfect state. Oh what balm there is in that 
 belief! I received Dr. Arnold's sermons two days ago, 
 but have not been able to read any of them. I am prepared 
 to like them from all I hear of the author. I forget if I 
 
 1 On the occasion of Mr. Kinloch's death, which occurred about 1840. 
 (J. F.) 
 
2/o MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 mentioned that I had asked the Fergussons to mention 
 Frederick l to their friends the Moultries, and they told me 
 they had done so. ... 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS FLETCHER 
 
 My dear friend, I wish I could answer your letter, 
 but I can do little more than acknowledge it, for my eyes 
 are much weaker and more averse to work ; however, I 
 comfort myself with the thought of having such a nice, 
 long winter talk with you if my breath holds out till then, 
 but it is getting very short. You would hear how poor 
 Mary 2 had been hurried off to Netherby ; she seemed 
 very sorry to go and not very able for the journey ; an 
 amiable old maid has really a weary life of it ! Apropos, 
 as Mrs. Fletcher and you have always an emporium of 
 virtuous and reduced gentlewomen, can you recommend 
 one to act as companion to a lady whose mind is a little 
 not much out of order ? She is English and episcopal, and 
 therefore I think would prefer a friend so born and bred. 
 I hope my sister G. will be able for the journey very 
 soon. My nephew is progressing very slowly. I had a 
 visit from Mrs. C. in suck rapture at finding herself in 
 town after all the cold, dirt, and dreariness of the country ; 
 but more of her anon. 3 Where am I to get * King Rene's 
 Daughter,' for she has never been heard of * in the trade ' 
 here? I see the Mackenzies often, but they .are much in 
 the new carpet and rug line at present. I heard from 
 Charlotte this morning from Ayr ; she had not been well, 
 but was better. The town is to be very full, so you had 
 best bespeak lodgings in time. 
 
 With best regards to Mrs Fletcher, 
 
 I am affectionately yours, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 Awfu' weather ! 
 
 1 Her nephew, F. Kinloch. (J. F.) C., a Session Lord in Edinburgh. 
 
 2 Campbell. (J. F. ) She was Miss Trotter, of Mortonhall. 
 
 3 Mrs. Cuninghame, wife of Lord (J. F. ) 
 
CH. v MR. THORBURN 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 My dear Helen, Your note was welcome and required 
 no apology. I was glad to hear Mr. T. 1 has got the 
 Colonel for a patient, though I would rather it had been of 
 free will than necessity that he was a sitter ; however, I 
 hope he will be able to take his foot in his hand before the 
 picture is finished. He should be careful of walking too 
 much at first, and I would therefore recommend his taking 
 a drive this way to our fine, bracing air, which never was to 
 be had in such perfection than at present. I wonder with 
 you at the Kinloch predilection for going beyond seas. I 
 think this island quite small enough for any rational sized 
 person. Great and important changes have taken place 
 since you were here. We have got a fine grocer's shop 
 opposite, where your mother and I may feast our eyes 
 from morning till night on fat hams, smoked tongues, 
 barley sugar, besoms [brooms], and what not ; and when 
 the grocer sends in my small bills with &c., &c., &c. after 
 my name I quite wonder at my own greatness. Your 
 mother will say that is very grossiere, but in spite of these 
 honours, 
 
 I remain your affectionate 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 MR. ROBERT THORBURN TO S. E. F. 
 
 77 Upper Berkeley Street, Portman Square, London : 
 September 26, 1839. 
 
 Dear Miss Ferrier, I offer many apologies for keeping 
 your brother's miniature so long from you. My intention 
 was to have sent it weeks ago, indeed, to accompany your 
 nephew to Scotland, but he left before the exhibition closed, 
 and I also was obliged to go abroad before that event. I 
 have returned, and Mr. Fletcher's departure for Scotland on 
 Saturday is my first opportunity. I hope the picture and its 
 frame will meet your approval ; it occurred to me that perhaps 
 
 1 Mr. Thorburn, the miniature painter. ( J. F. ) 
 
2/2 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 you might think I had chosen too fine a one, but I tried a 
 plainer, and the head looked too large in it. The price is 
 three guineas. I suppose your nephew has informed you 
 of my success this season, and what it has enabled me to 
 do. I do not find my extra duties troublesome, owing to 
 a sister I have got to share them, I suppose. 
 
 My failing health at the end of this season hinted 
 to me that I had confined myself too closely. I soon 
 regained it by making a little excursion abroad. I do not 
 think that I ever before felt greater pleasure than I did the 
 first morning I awoke in the country with such a prospect 
 before me. I intended to have gone to Venice, but on my 
 arrival at Paris a picture there prevented me going further 
 south, Raphael's ' La Belle Jardiniere/ which I immediately 
 set about copying. My route to that city via Brighton, 
 Dieppe, Rouen, and up the Seine was very pleasant and 
 picturesque, staying sufficiently long at each place to allow 
 me to see it. I need not tell you that I am quite ready for 
 another fight. Permit me to remain. 
 
 Yours very gratefully, 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN. 
 
 FROM COUNTESS PEPOLl* TO S. E. F. 
 
 Felsina Cottage, 6 Gloucester Road : June 3, 1840. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, As you kindly express a wish 
 to hear of my health, I take it as an excuse to send you 
 another letter. First let me say how grateful I felt for 
 yours, and that I so far deserved it, for it never came into 
 my mind that you were either ' ungracious ' or ' negligent.' 
 I only remembered the too good apology you have for 
 silence, and I thought it most kind in you to write so 
 much. I had the pleasure of paying a visit to a friend of 
 yours the other day, who I hope is likely to do well for 
 himself, and to be a credit to his country I mean Mr. 
 Thorburn ; his success appeared to me great, as far as I 
 could judge. I have just been regretting I had not his 
 
 1 Nee Fergus, of Strathore, co. Fife. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. v COUNTESS PEPOLI 273 
 
 address to give to a lady who wished a drawing done, 
 when a friend of mine said to me ' I am sitting for my 
 miniature/ and delighted was I when she said, ' to a young 
 Scotch artist, Mr Thorburn.' He was much pleased to speak 
 of you, and he is established in a good situation and very 
 nice house. I keep quite well, but as thin as it is possible 
 to be ; I live so quietly that I should improve a little. 
 We receive much kindness Count Pepoli is so much 
 beloved by all who know him. None have shown more 
 constant and disinterested kindness than Lady Morgan. 
 I did not admire her writings excepting one, and never 
 expected to like herself. She was again speaking of you 
 the other day, and she made me promise to tell you that 
 she has been a fellow sufferer with you as to your eyes ; 
 for four years she expected total blindness, and sat with a 
 single shaded candle, and even that gave her pain. She 
 had consulted every medical man but one, Mr. Alexander, 
 and at last she went to him and was cured ; but she still 
 applies constantly the remedy he gave her ; all the other 
 persons she had consulted either gave her no hope, or only 
 tormented her with vain attempts. He is the person I 
 long since wished my dear Miss Ferrier had consulted. 
 Now I will not write much more, for I have little more to 
 say. I had at tea the other evening Monsieur Andregane, 
 who was with Silvio Pellico for twelve or thirteen years in 
 the fortress of Spielberg ; he has now recovered all his 
 sufferings, looks well, and says that in his present happiness 
 God has compensated him for all past sufferings ; he is a 
 very religious man it was pleasant to see one happy who 
 had passed through so much. Farewell, dear Miss Ferrier, 
 do not forget me. . . . We have staying with us just now 
 an old man of ninety-one ; he was a painter, and not being 
 in very comfortable circumstances my husband thought a 
 little change of air would do him good, and so brought 
 him here. He is an Italian ; his face is quite beautiful, 
 especially his eyes, though it has little expression ; perhaps 
 
 T 
 
274 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS en. v 
 
 it never had much, but he is now gliding very quietly down 
 the last stage of life, and all his feelings seem placid. 
 Ever, my dear Miss Ferrier, very truly, 
 
 ELIZ. PEPOLI. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL (1840) 
 
 My dear Janet, I take much shame to myself for my 
 long silence, so I hope you will excuse it without further 
 apology. I intended to have apprised you of Jane's some- 
 what sudden flight to the South, but have delayed so long 
 that I dare say she has got the start of me herself, and 
 written you a whole history by this time. She is a 
 wonderful creature, but ought not to play such pranks 
 again ; she may truly say she breakfasted here on Monday 
 and dined at Stanmore ] on Tuesday very hurried doings, 
 thinks I, and I am sure you will agree with me. I have 
 been allowed little time to feel her loss ; my friends having 
 plied me with attentions almost from the time of her 
 departure. The Hamiltons came from Cathlaw to break- 
 fast with me that morning, which was a great pleasure to 
 me, as there are few people I value more highly ; I was 
 happy to see her 2 so well, notwithstanding the severe trials 
 she has had in parting with her sons ; 3 but she is an 
 admirable person, and I am sure the children of such a 
 mother must carry a blessing along with them, go where 
 they may. Their house is quite an orphan 4 asylum. 
 Cath. and Lotty Ferrier 5 are here on their way to 
 spend the summer there, and Georgy and Jane Riddell 6 
 also en route to pass a week or two before bidding a final 
 adieu. 7 The Ferriers seem disposed to pay you a visit on 
 their return to the South, and I dare say Mr. C. and 
 
 1 Where her daughter, Mrs. Ten- 4 They were very kind in giving 
 nent, lived. (J. F.) house-room to some young relatives 
 
 2 The honourable Georgina Vere- who had lost their parents. (J. F.) 
 ker, daughter of the first Viscount 5 Daughters of Louis Ferrier, of 
 iJort; married, 1817, Lieutenant- Belsyde (p. 224). (J. F.) 
 
 Colonel John Ferrier Hamilton (see ti Daughters of her cousin, Mrs. 
 
 p. 164). (J. F.) Riddell. (J. F.) 
 
 3 They went to Australia to settle. 7 They went to India and married 
 (J. F.) there. (J. F.) 
 
CH. v FAMILY GOSSIP 275 
 
 you will make them welcome both for their father's sake 
 and their own, for they are uncommonly pleasing, com- 
 panionable creatures. I am very hospitable by proxy, you 
 will say, which is too much the case, as not even Mr. C.'s 
 ' splendid ' joint of veal could tempt me to encounter a 
 dinner-party, so I made free to divide it with the Walters, 
 and I am sure he will not think it was thrown away, as 
 both they and I relished, and are still relishing, it very 
 much. I have got the offer of a villa from Mrs. Fletcher l 
 while she and her daughter remain in England, but as 
 she wished to let it I shall only consent to occupy it till 
 a tenant is forthcoming, which, however, is not likely to 
 be the case now ; it is a pretty little spot near Corstor- 
 phine, and my friend and their friend Mary Camp will 
 accompany me next week, and remain probably till about 
 July 20, when she goes with her brother's family to Moffat ; 
 so if you will make out your visit now I can promise you 
 pleasanter quarters than I could have done last year, for 
 really, with all my predilection for a town life, I must own 
 it is not 'passing sweet' at this season. Margaret and 
 Eleanor 2 have taken a joint stock company cottage near 
 Colinton with the Misses Gillespie, and are to occupy 
 alternately. I fear there is little chance of Mrs. K. coming 
 amongst us this summer. Frederick 3 is going on well at 
 Sweethope 4 and I trust will regain health sufficient to follow 
 out his vocation ; he is much changed since his boyish days 
 the fire of youth is quenched ; but he is sensible and 
 amiable, mild and gentle, and really an interesting creature. 
 Thursday i8th. This has been scribbled bit by bit 
 since Saturday, but it is high time it was now brought to 
 a conclusion. I was in Carlton Street 5 yesterday, and 
 saw all well, the baby getting almost as fat as Grace 
 Grierson, who seems quite domesticated there, but talks 
 
 1 Old Mrs. Fletcher, the friend of 2 Her nieces. (J. F. ) 
 Brougham and Jeffrey. The villa 3 Kinloch. (J. F.) 
 
 was near Corstorphine, Edinburgh. 4 A farm. (J. F.) 
 
 (J. F.) 5 Where Professor Ferrier lived. 
 
 (J. F.) 
 
 T 2 
 
276 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS en. v 
 
 of leaving on Saturday ; she is a fine, good-natured 
 creature. I send you a collection of letters, in which I 
 think you will find much that is excellent; they are by 
 Mrs. G. [General G.'s l stepmother], and I have not 
 heard anything for a great while that has interested 
 and edified me so much. Poor Mr. Lennox ! would 
 that he had left less of this world's pelf! 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Wednesday, 1841. 
 
 I have waited long for an opportunity of sending you 
 an old friend with a new face, but as none seems likely to 
 occur I must pack it off by coach, else I fear the new face 
 will be an old one before it reaches you ... this is a week 
 of such extraordinary festivity among the kindred that 
 even I have been drawn into the vortex. Lady McNeill 
 gives a fancy ball to-morrow and a masquerade on Friday. 
 Eleanor and Agnes 2 have offered to come and show them- 
 selves to me, and some of my friends have invited them- 
 selves to meet them, and I could not be so churlish as 
 to refuse, especially as my poor lame friend, Mary C. 3 
 is to be of the party. She is now able to creep from one 
 room to another with a support, after sixteen months' 
 confinement. Charlotte 4 Ferrier's marriage takes place 
 to-morrow at Craiglockart, 5 when forty of kindred and 
 connections are to assemble. Changed days with the Dr. ! 
 The Hamiltons have come to town for th eoccasion, both 
 (I am happy to say) quite well. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. CONNELL 
 
 Friday. 
 
 My fancy fair was so brilliant and so much out of the 
 ordinary course of my proceedings that I was quite useless 
 all yesterday. The company assembled about eight, and 
 
 1 General Graham. (J. F.) Belsyde ; married, 1841, Sir John 
 
 Daughters of her brothers, John Campbell, Bart. , of Auchenbreck. 
 
 and Walter. (J. F.) s The seat of the bride's uncle, 
 
 3 Campbell. (J. F.) Professor Monro. (J. F.) 
 Daughter of Louis H. Ferrier of 
 
CH. v FANCY BALL AT EDINBURGH 277 
 
 we sat in the dark till ten, when the performers came upon 
 the stage, which was immediately lighted up, and I with- 
 drew for a few minutes that they might be seen. After 
 the spectators were satisfied I then beheld them by the 
 light of a solitary candle, and indeed it was all I could do 
 to look upon them even in that ' palpable "obscure.' 
 Eleanor was arrayed in a robe of ruby velvet, with petticoat 
 and stomacher of rich gold tissue, head-dress a la Anne 
 Boleyn, and, as the newspapers say, 'a profusion of jewels,' 
 lent by Lady McNeill. Agnes wore a white satin slip 
 petticoat and tunic of thin muslin trimmed with ivy 
 leaves, and a chaplet of the same on her head. Miss 
 Aber. 1 personified a Roman flower-girl in long jacket of 
 green velvet, petticoat of dark red, and all the rest of the 
 costume most correct. Miss Gillespie 2 was in white and 
 silver, long veil, and a chaplet of white roses. George F. 3 
 and Johnnie 4 in uniform completed the group ; and now 
 I have done my part in the millinery line, and hope you 
 are satisfied, if not edified. Lady McN. has a masquerade 
 to-night, and E. 5 enacts first a fish-wife and then a 
 queen ; but oh ! what folly all this seems, and is ! Not 
 gaiety, real gaiety only excitement, its vile counterfeit. 
 In the midst of all this senseless revelry came the accounts 
 of Miss MacD. Buchanan's death, 6 once the gayest of the 
 gay, but prepared by long suffering and much tribulation 
 for the happy change that has taken place. I expect 
 Mrs. Kinloch on the I5th, and it is settled she is to bring 
 her maid and leave her here when she goes to visit. She 
 will be of use to me, as I am losing Emily ; Peggy and 
 she cannot live under the same roof, though both suit me 
 perfectly. I never shop, so I see nothing, but a Moravian 
 came to me with some work one day, and I took the 
 
 1 Abercromby , daughter of Lord 3 George Ferrier, a cousin. ( J. F. ) 
 Abercromby; married, 1858, Colonel * Her nephew, John W. Ferrier, 
 Brown. (J. F.) died 1845. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Daughter of Dr. Gillespie ; mar- s Eleanor. (J. F. ) 
 
 ried Lauderdale Maitland, Esq., of 6 Sir Walter's ' Missie,' see p. 220. 
 Eulisco, Dumfries. (J. F.) (J. F.) 
 
278 MISS TERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 accompanying cap, which I hope you will like. I have 
 sent the book and the cappy in a parcel by the mail. 
 
 In 1840, or a little earlier, the copyright of Miss 
 Ferrier's three novels passed into the possession of Mr. 
 Bentley. There is nothing to show the exact details of 
 the transaction, but it is not unlikely that Miss Ferrier 
 carried out the proposal made in her letter to Mr. Black- 
 wood, and relieved him of the copyright. Be that as it 
 may be, a new edition appeared in 1841. 
 
 The letters which follow show the details of the 
 publication. 
 
 R. BENTLEY TO S. E. F. 
 
 New Burlington Street : April I, 1841. 
 
 Madam, I regret much that, not being aware of your 
 address, I have not been able to avail myself of the 
 advantage of your correction of the proof for the new 
 edition of ' Marriage,' owing to the great delay in receiving 
 the corrected copy. Moreover, from some precise form 
 pursued I did not receive your corrected copy till a great 
 portion of the edition was set up or composed, the result of 
 which has been that I have been put to serious expense in 
 making the corrections to ' Marriage.' 
 
 Your request in regard to the other two works shall be 
 punctually attended to. 
 
 I am, madam, your obedient servant, 
 Miss Ferrier. RICHARD BENTLEY. 
 
 K. BENTLEY TO S. E. F. 
 
 New Burlington Street : April 5, 1841. 
 
 Madam, I have your letter of the 2nd inst. The 
 edition of * Marriage ' printed in my Standard Novels you 
 will find, I trust, properly corrected l from the copy forwarded 
 by you. 
 
 It is indeed much to be regretted that I did not get 
 your introduction in time. I could not know, however, 
 
 1 Miss Ferrier's own note to this is ' Quite the reverse full of blunders 
 (S. E. F.).' 
 
CH. v REPUBLICATION OF THE NOVELS 270 
 
 that it was your intention to give any. This purpose may 
 yet be in a manner accomplished by a longer introduction 
 to ' The Inheritance.' Proofs shall be forwarded to you ot 
 this book, to enable you to see that your corrections are all 
 attended to. 
 
 I have with this sent you the stipulated number of copies 
 of ' Marriage ' and 
 
 Remain, madam, your obedient servant, 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY. 
 
 The Preface to ' Inheritance ' referred to in the above 
 letters is worth reprinting as illustrating, more strikingly 
 perhaps than anything else could, the change which had 
 passed over Miss Ferrier's habits of thought. 
 
 PREFACE TO ' INHERITANCE' 
 
 An introduction has been requested for the first of these 
 three works* Marriage ' but while the author was con- 
 sidering what could be said for an already thrice-told tale 
 it had passed through the press with such rapidity as to 
 outstrip all consideration. 
 
 Indeed, what can be said for any of them amounts to 
 so little, it is scarcely worth saying at all. 
 
 The first was begun at the urgent solicitation and with 
 the promised assistance of a friend, which, however, failed 
 long before the end of the first volume ; the work was then 
 thrown aside, but resumed some years afterwards. It 
 afforded occupation and amusement for idle and solitary 
 hours, and was published in the belief that the author's 
 name never would be guessed at or the work heard of 
 beyond a very limited sphere. // riy a que le premier pas 
 qui coute in novel writing as in carrying one's head in 
 their hand. ' Inheritance ' and ' Destiny ' followed as 
 matters of course. 
 
 It has been so often and confidently asserted that 
 almost all the characters are individual portraits, that the 
 
28o MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 author has little hope of being believed when she asserts 
 the contrary. That some of them were sketched from life 
 is not denied, but the circumstances in which they are 
 placed, their birth, habits, language, and a thousand 
 minute particulars, differ so widely from the originals as 
 ought to refute the charge of personality. 
 
 With regard to the introduction of religious sentiments 
 into works of fiction, there exists a difference of opinion 
 which, in the absence of any authoritative command, leaves 
 each free to act according to their own feelings and 
 opinions. 
 
 Viewing this life merely as the prelude to another state 
 of existence, it does seem strange that the future should 
 ever be wholly excluded from any representation of it even 
 in its motley occurrences scarcely less motley perhaps 
 than the human mind itself. 
 
 The author can only wish it had been her province to 
 have raised plants of nobler growth in the wide field of 
 Christian literature but as such has not been her high 
 calling, she must only hope her ' small herbs of grace ' may 
 (without offence) be allowed to put forth their blossoms 
 amongst the briars, weeds, and wild flowers of life's common 
 path. 
 
 Edinburgh: April 1840* 
 
 When we turn from this to the correspondence with Miss 
 Clavering we certainly understand how honesty and fear- 
 lessness of mind may exist along with something very like 
 a double personality. 
 
 THE HONOURABLE MRS. ERSKINE TO S. E. F. 
 
 (Addressed to * Miss Ferrier, Cathlaw,' where her cousin, Colonel Ferrier 
 Hamilton, lived.) 
 
 September n, 1841. 
 
 My dear Tyrant, Were you anything but a tyrant or 
 a very kind and indulgent friend I should think it necessary 
 to apologise for not writing to you before now. But in the 
 
CH, v THE ERSKINES 28 1 
 
 first of these characters you had nothing better to expect, 
 for all slaves are idle and negligent when they dare, and in 
 the later \sic\ I knew you would make large allowances 
 for me and therefore neglected my duty ! And this, alas ! 
 is human nature. If you wish to correct it in me you must 
 speedily return and resume your tyranny, to which I will 
 gladly submit I think poor Whitmore was gone before 
 you left this, but I am not sure, for my memory is growing 
 sadly deficient. It has been a painful trial to me, but I 
 have every reason to hope she is now happier than this 
 world could ever have made her, and I ought not to lament 
 that she is released from her sufferings, which have long been 
 very great. Mrs. Callander * is still here, but goes on 
 Tuesday with her family to Dunesk 2 for some time, and 
 Mrs. Smith comes to town, not to me but into lodgings 
 close by Dr. Handyside, that he may see her daily and 
 watch the progress of her complaint and think if anything 
 can be done to relieve, all having failed that has hitherto 
 been attempted. 
 
 I do not approve this move. It will satisfy her mind 
 and the blessing of God will I fervently hope attend it. 
 Mrs. Callander sits by me while I write and desires 
 her kind remembrance, and with affectionate love believe 
 me, 
 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 
 E. ERSKINE. 3 
 
 1 The first Mrs. Callander, of tress Cumin and borrowed it frae the 
 Craigforth, a most beautiful woman, cook (it was roasting before the fire 
 and daughter of Lord Erskine. (J. F.) for that lady's own dinner), for I kent 
 
 2 A place near Edinburgh, where Miss Ferrier was coming.' Miss 
 Mrs. Smith lived. She was a sister Ferrier pretended to be angry, and 
 of the seventh Earl of Buchan, and gave her a lecture on the wickedness 
 stepdaughter of Mrs. Erskine. (J. F. ) of stealing. Mrs. Cumin was the 
 
 3 Mrs. Erskine was the second widow of the Hon. General Leslie, a 
 wife of the celebrated wit, the Hon. son of the Earl of Leven ; on his 
 Harry Erskine, and sister to Sir marriage he took her name. She 
 Thomas Munro, Governor of Madras. lived in Queen Street, next door to 
 She was of a frugal turn of mind, and Mrs. Erskine. (J. F.) 
 
 when Miss Ferrier dined with her one One is reminded of Caleb Balder- 
 day, and the butler removed the dish stone's raid in The Bride of ' Lammer- 
 cover, she asked him where he got moor. But that novel was written 
 such a fine duck from, to which he before the incident occurred, 
 replied, ' I just stepped ben to Mis- 
 
282 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH . v 
 
 S. E. F. TO HER NIECE * MRS. TENNENT (nte GRAHAM] 
 
 Stanmore, Middlesex [1841 ?]. 
 
 .... Indeed I am becoming very jealous of the super- 
 fluities of life from hearing so much of its wants and 
 privations as are perpetually pressing upon one's notice 
 in this great poor city, and more particularly in this most 
 severe season when all human enjoyment seems con- 
 centrated in coals and blankets. I can tell you little or 
 nothing of what is going on amongst the gay ones here, as 
 I never stray beyond my own fireside, and its annals are 
 short and simple, as nothing can be more quiet and uniform 
 than the 'even tenor of our days/ diversified only by 
 plentiful visits from friends and kindred in the morning and 
 reading and knitting in the evening. We have been 
 supping on the horrors of a novel by a Mrs. Crowe, called 
 ' Susan Hopley,' 2 a very respectable woman (the only one in 
 the book), who wears a brown gown and knits like me 
 but otherwise it is all full of bad doings and bloody murders, 
 so that I could not endure it to the end. I am told 
 Professor Wilson's * Essay on Burns ' is fine, but we have 
 not seen it yet. . . . My eyes suffer so much I can only 
 open them at long intervals, and now I must close them 
 with kind regards to the Colonel. 
 
 FROM LADY McNEILL TO S. E. F. 3 
 
 Park Hotel, Norwood : June 19, 1841. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, I felt most grateful for the 
 beautiful little remembrance you sent us the night before 
 
 1 The daughter of General Graham. man's man had a man, and that was 
 
 Sir W. Scott happened to call on her how the Castle of Threave was ta'en.' 
 mother one day in George Street, 2 Published in 1841. 
 
 Edinburgh (when on a visit to Mrs. 3 Many pleasant visits I have paid 
 
 Hay, her sister-in-law), and on to Grantor House, Edinburgh, 
 
 leaving, Mrs. Graham desired her where Sir John and Lady McNeill 
 
 daughter to go down stairs and open lived. My great aunt was a most 
 
 the door to him, the man-servant being delightful person, and so kind, and 
 
 very slow in his movements. When her strong personality is still vivid in 
 
 she had done so he patted her on the the memories of many now alive. Of 
 
 shoulder and said, ' That's a good Sir John some people stood a little 
 
 girl ! I'll tell you something : Every in awe on account of his grand am- 
 
en. v LADY McNEILL 283 
 
 we left home. It suits Ferooza l exactly, and is most 
 becoming to her. This place, which I am sorry to say we 
 leave on Monday, has done her much good. She has often 
 wished for little Jane when going to ride her donkey 
 or to make hay her two favourite amusements. ... Sir 
 John is ordered to start for Persia on the 1st, and I 
 think we shall go with him to Boulogne instead of going 
 to Malvern, as originally intended. This will give us a few 
 more days of his society, and save us some of the first 
 bother of foreign lands ; and we have heard a favourable 
 account of the climate, and if we don't like it after he 
 leaves us, we can fly to more retired regions. We have 
 enjoyed our residence here very much. We have had 
 enough of society without getting involved in the vortex 
 which would have been our fate had we been in town, and 
 one season of which is enough to last for life at least, 
 such a season as we had the year we were knighted. 2 
 
 We have taken lodgings at -No. 2 St. James's Place, 
 St James's, and there will remain till our parting instruc- 
 
 bassadorial and somewhat pompous wife have been living at Elleray for 
 
 manner, but to myself he was always a considerable time, and it is by them 
 
 most kind and courteous. He was she has been interrupted, otherwise 
 
 one of the handsomest and most she would have been in Edinburgh 
 
 dignified looking men I ever saw, and by this time. Upon the whole, she 
 
 his countenance was quite beautiful. has made out her journey very well, 
 
 Professor Wilson used to say as a joke, though she encountered some great 
 
 when they arrived in Scotland to live hardships upon the borders of Russia ; 
 
 from Persia, that he was known in when on one occasion, in spite of her 
 
 Edinburgh then as Lady McNeilFs certificates of health, she was thrown 
 
 brother ! I dare say there was some into a horrid prison to perform 
 
 truth in it, as a title goes a long way quarantine, and kept immured, I 
 
 in * Auld Reekie,' and a good many believe, for eleven days, exposed 
 
 other places besides. to damp, cold, and every kind of 
 
 The following extract is from a discomfort. After being liberated, 
 
 letter from my Aunt, Margaret she was taken violently ill, and was 
 
 Ferrier, to my father, afterwards for some time unable to proceed, and 
 
 Professor Ferrier, and shows the at the same time the gentleman who 
 
 dangers travellers were exposed to in had travelled in company with her 
 
 such long journeys as from Persia to was obliged by his affairs to leave 
 
 this country. It is dated Dec. 7, 1828 : her, so she had to pursue her journey 
 
 ' When you arrive, you will find alone that is to say, with no corn- 
 Aunt Elizabeth in this part of the panions except her maid and child.' 
 world, as she is at present at Elleray l Her daughter, named from the 
 [in Windermere, where Professor Persian word for a turquoise. 
 Wilson lived], and is expected here (J. F.) 
 in a few days. ... 2 Sir John McNeill was knighted 
 'Uncle James [Wilson] and his by William iv. in 1836. (J. F.) 
 
284 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 tions are given ; in the meantime I must devote my ' great 
 mind ' almost exclusively to the packing of boxes and 
 making out of inventories, having four to arrange for Pau 
 and fourteen for Persia. The most interesting thing we 
 have seen here is the pauper school, where a thousand 
 children are educated. They are illegitimate children, 
 children deserted by their parents, or the children of insane 
 persons or criminals. They are received as early as two 
 years old, but the majority of those we saw had been 
 received at six or seven, the school having but recently 
 been instituted. They may remain till sixteen. By a 
 steady system, and by kindness and instruction without 
 rewards or harsh punishment of any kind, they soon 
 become cleanly and moral in their habits, orderly and 
 decent in their conduct, and cheerful and contented. They 
 are taught in such a manner as to make their lessons an 
 enjoyment. They are well, though coarsely, fed, clothed 
 and lodged, and they are instructed in habits of industry, 
 which are considered a primary object of their instruction. 
 We saw the boys making clothes and shoes, others working 
 as carpenters, tinsmiths and blacksmiths, and a large body 
 of little fellows, dressed as sailors, climbing rigging, drilled 
 as soldiers, and practised at great guns. The girls wash, 
 iron, mangle, cook, learn to make clothes and to knit 
 But what delighted us most of all was the extent of their 
 information in religion, in geography, in the theory of 
 useful arts, and on many other subjects, such as few 
 children acquire at the same age in any rank of life. The 
 whole cost is four and sixpence a week for each child. I 
 have not seen as many happy faces for many a day as we 
 saw among those poor children. What a stave I have 
 written you, quite forgetting that a few lines of thanks was 
 all I had a right to impose on you. . . . 
 
 Sir John begs me to offer you his best regards, and 
 with sincere affection, believe me 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 E. McNElLL. 
 
CH. v THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN 285 
 
 The following letters refer to a tradition which 
 connects Miss Ferrier with the authorship of the ' Laird o' 
 Cockpen.' That Lady Nairn wrote the chief part of the 
 song is undoubted. But it has been more than once 
 stated in print that her version ended with the discomfiture 
 of the Laird, and that the two verses describing Mistress 
 Jean's repentance and the subsequent marriage were due 
 to Miss Ferrier. No definite evidence on the point is forth- 
 coming. 
 
 JAMES WILSON TO S. E. F. 
 
 Woodville, Edinburgh : November 7, 1842. 
 
 . . . When I wrote from Westmoreland I forgot to 
 mention that I had, before leaving Edinburgh, sent a line 
 to Wilson the singer in reference to the authorship of the 
 ' Laird of Cockpen,' which he says you composed, and 
 which you say you did not. I don't know which of you is 
 right, but since you desire it, I will give you the benefit of 
 the doubt. I find Wilson's rejoinder still sticking among 
 some unburnt notes and enclose it herewith . . . 
 
 
 The following is the note enclosed. 
 
 Perth: August n, 1842. 
 
 Dear Sir, I am obliged by your writing me anent the 
 song of the ' Laird o' Cockpen,' which I have seen in some 
 collection [perhaps Robert Chambers's] I am not certain 
 attributed to Miss Ferrier. I never mentioned her name, 
 but said merely that it was by the authoress of ' Marriage,' 
 and I am extremely sorry if that should cause her the 
 least annoyance. Your kindness in letting me know 
 that she is not the writer of the song will of course 
 prevent me from again mentioning it ; but I am almost 
 sorry that she is not the writer of the song as it is so good 
 in its way as to be a feather in the cap of any one who 
 could say its mine . . . 
 
286 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH . v 
 
 MR. GEORGE THOMSON 1 TO S. E. F. 
 
 Trustees' Office : July 29. 
 
 Mr. Thomson with most respectful compliments to 
 Miss Ferrier returns the poems which she had the good- 
 ness to send him. He has read them with much pleasure, 
 but not without regretting that Miss Ferrier has so success- 
 fully studied brevity in her own composition, though he 
 deems it very prudent to follow her example 
 
 Lest any fool admire, 
 And clever folk should tire. 
 
 Gibbon, when in Parliament, never spoke a sentence. 
 The bad speakers terrified him, the great ones put him in 
 despair. Should not nine-tenths of our rhymers be 
 appalled in the same way when they think of a Milton, a 
 Dryden, a Pope ? 
 
 Mr. T. has the pleasure of inclosing Mr. Curran's 
 ' Deserter.' 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS FLETCHER 2 
 
 October 23. 
 
 So you have spoken at last ! High time methinks 
 after eight months of inflexible silence, during which I 
 have sat patiently nursing my wrath till it might have 
 filled an Atlantic steam boiler, but now that you have 
 opened a safety valve it has already begun to evaporate, 
 and in the course of a page or two I expect to be tolerably 
 cool and quite empty. Meanwhile I shall begin to answer 
 your letter categorically, only in the crab fashion, begin- 
 ning at the tast query and so retrograding to the first. 
 
 What am I doing ? 
 
 Nothing particular. 
 
 How are my eyes ? 
 
 1 He wrote a Life of Burns^ and oversight. 
 
 was a friend of the poet. His 2 Sister of Miles Fletcher, the first 
 
 daughter, Mrs. Hogarth, was mother husband of Miss Clavering. She 
 
 of Mrs. Charles Dickens. This letter married, in August 1847, Mr., after- 
 
 was probably written about 1809, and wards Sir John, Richardson, the Arctic 
 
 was inserted in its present place by an traveller. 
 
en. v DR. ARNOLD 287 
 
 Very weak. 
 
 Is the ' wretch ' to the fore ? 
 
 I know nothing to the contrary, but she is living at 
 Ravelstone, so we have little or no intercourse. 
 
 The Mackenzies came to town in rude health, and 
 though Hope has caught cold she is so obstreperous she 
 pays no regard to it. Mrs. Erskine is one day better and 
 another worse, but she is able to take an airing occasion- 
 ally, and she told me lately if ever she was to recover it 
 would be by travelling. Nevertheless her intellect is clear 
 as ever, as evidenced in a preface she lately indited for an 
 album a young niece of mine has launched ; if I can get 
 it copied I will send it (if you behave well), but I find 
 copiers more scarce than composers. Poor Miss Money- 
 penny will always be a mourner for the loss of her kind 
 brother, but her health upon the whole is better. Sir 
 William Hamilton is going on well, and my nephew 
 Professor F. [Ferrier] is to conduct his lectures this 
 winter. The meeting between Lady Bell and Mrs. Arnold 
 must have been deeply affecting to both ; that they were 
 able to bear it all says much for the sweet resigned tone of 
 their feelings. I read Dr. Arnold's life with the greatest 
 interest and delight ; it set my heart in a glow, which few 
 things do now. The wife of such a man I can imagine 
 almost reconciled to her own loss by seeing what a gain it 
 must prove to the world. How I wished for you to read it 
 to me. Pray tell me all about his family and whether 
 there is to be no more of the charming ' Journal ' ; and the 
 German hymns, are they- ever to be forthcoming in my 
 day ? The ' Quarterly ' has done itself infinite credit by its 
 beautiful review ; you have all a touch of Dr. Arnold's 
 character in you, but Mrs. Fletcher's resemblance is most 
 striking, only I think she is more tolerant of evil and evil- 
 doers. I never believed she was coming here this winter ; 
 would she were and all of you, dear, Mrs. Davy included ; 
 there is much need of you here. What are Angus and 
 Mr. Dickens laying their heads together about in Genoa ? 
 
288 MISS TERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH . v 
 
 Charlotte l and her chrysolite are well. Mrs. Graham is 
 in Dumfriesshire on her way here. Oh how I wish you 
 would all come to your senses and return to your proper 
 sphere ! It is a week since I began this, for I can write but 
 a wee bit at a time, so I am very sick of the sight of my 
 penmanship, and were I to con it over I am <feure it would 
 land on the fire ; so take it as it is, and with best regards 
 to Mrs. Fletcher and Mrs. Davy, believe me, your still 
 affectionate 
 
 S. E. FERRIER. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS FLETCHER 
 
 1844. 
 
 I'm not going to detain you, I know you're in a great 
 hurry just setting off, and really have no time to read letters ; 
 so I'm only going to say good-bye, which I do with a sort of 
 feeble fluttering wish that I were going with you as your 
 invisible familiar, merely to sit at the back of your eye or in 
 the drum of your ear, and see all the strange sights and 
 hear all the fine things you will see and hear ! Perhaps 
 we might cast out now and then, or you might be for casting 
 me out, but upon the whole I think we should put up 
 pretty well together. I should like to hear an authentic 
 account of the Plymouth Brethren, as I have read some of 
 their tracts and think them good. I am reading Lord 
 Jeffrey's 2 essays with great delight, notwithstanding the 
 profound contempt with which (in the batch of novels of 
 the day) my bantlings are passed by. Not even a foot- 
 note to mark their existence poor things ! The pleasantest 
 thing I have heard for many a day is the talk of your 
 coming to Edinburgh next winter ; 'tis a long look, to be 
 sure, and I may not be here, or a thousand things 
 may happen ; but, in spite of possibilities, I enjoy the 
 prospect and will trust to having it realised. My sister 
 sends her best regards to Mrs. Fletcher and you perhaps 
 you may be thrown together in the whirlpool of London, 
 
 1 Mrs. Christison. (J. F.) 2 Published in 1844. 
 
CH. v MARTINEAU AND MESMERISM 289 
 
 as she is preparing for her usual migration. 1 Charlotte is 
 gone to Inveraray. Mrs. Cuninghame is in Fife, the 
 Walkers going to and fro as usual. I like the Browns and 
 wish they were stationary but what do you care for all 
 such outlandish folk ? I beg your pardon, pray excuse me 
 for having trespassed so long on your time. I am going 
 away as fast as I can now ; I'm gone. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS FLETCHER 
 
 My dear Miss Fletcher, I was quite uplifted by your 
 commendation of me as an intelligent correspondent, and 
 (tho' I scarcely like to own it even to myself) I suspect 
 only the fear of losing that character has kept me so long 
 from thanking you for your most acceptable letter. You 
 see I am cautious of bestowing any epithet upon it, lest (as 
 in my own case) it should prove a snare. Privately I have 
 long been of opinion it is a dangerous thing to have a 
 character ; but I must not allow myself to scribble nonsense, 
 else my eyes will be worn out before I come to matters of 
 fact, the only matters I now profess to treat of. I have 
 not seen our dear Mrs. Erskine for some time, as she had 
 been confined to bed and ordered to keep quiet on account 
 of her increasing weakness and debility yet the Dr. says 
 there is no dangerous symptom and that her pulse continues 
 good. Mrs. Drum: is living next door to her, so does not 
 annoy her. Mary C. 2 set off this morning for the south. I 
 felt as if bidding her a very long farewell and could only 
 pray it might not prove an everlasting one. Miss Money- 
 penny has been very dangerously ill, but is recovering. 
 The Mackenzies, I am thankful to say, continue in good 
 health and spirits. Nothing is talked of but Martineau 
 and mesmerism. I almost believe there is such an influence, 
 but am in great doubt as to whether it is a ' lyeing wonder/ 
 or increase of knowledge ; pray let me hear your opinion on 
 the matter. . . . 
 
 1 Mrs. Graham went annually to Stanmore, near London. (J. F.) 
 visit her daughter, Mrs. Tennent, at 2 Campbell. (J. F.) 
 
290 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1846) 
 
 Thursday, 25. 
 
 Anticipating the arrival of the parcel I begin betimes 
 to thank you for its contents, which, in all their varieties, 
 will, I assure you, be most welcome. Meantime I have to 
 acknowledge the receipt of two very pleasant letters, for 
 which I can make but a poor return, having heard and seen 
 little save wind and rain for nearly a week past. To be 
 sure one ought to be thankful who only see and hear and 
 do not feel, for I fear the disasters at sea must be dreadful ! 
 . . . I have been casting about for an opportunity of sending 
 one of Lady McNeill's seal boxes not one of the best, she 
 says, for they went * like snaw off a dyke ' at the sale, and 
 produced upwards of five pounds. Professor James has 
 put forth a pamphlet ' Observations on Church and State/ 
 in reply to the D. of A.'s [Argyll's] * Essay.' I have a mind 
 to send it to the Colonel if I thought he would read it, but 
 it is quite on the Presbyterian question. I saw Mrs. Chris, 
 lately, and though the D. and Dss. had lunched with her, 
 she said nought anent Lady E.'s marriage, 1 so the Cat is 
 quite ahead of her with the news. This is the third day 
 since my beginning, so it is time I had brought it to a con- . 
 elusion and let you know when the ' parcel comes to hand,' 
 in the shop phrase. . . . One o'clock. The box has this 
 instant arrived and all the gifts are most acceptable ! Mrs. 
 Fry will be a treasure to me for many a day and evening 
 to come, and I shall drink your health with great goilt in a 
 cup of Souchong. The Purse is something quite unknown 
 to me and to the public in general hereabouts, I guess. . . . 
 There is a calm at last, and I am going to venture forth, 
 so Adieu. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1846) 
 
 .... For some time indeed I was unable to write, but 
 seemed as if utterly extinguished by the excessive cold ; as 
 
 1 Lady Emma Campbell ; married, before, it is clear that the ' Cat's ' 
 1870, as his third wife, Sir J. information was unfounded. (J. F.) 
 McNeill. As she did not marry 
 
CH. v LADY NAIRN'S SONGS 291 
 
 that abated I began to revive and am now restored to my 
 usual state of ' dim consciousness ' and to the comfort of 
 the gown, which I assure you is great. Lady S. 1 and Mrs. 
 Chris, met here accidentally, and having sat upon it (in judg- 
 ment), the one said she greatly admired it, the other that 
 she quite coveted it, and all agree that it is a great improve- 
 ment on my previous habits. I wish I had anything to send 
 you, but I am little in the way of seeing or hearing of small 
 novelties or ' bonny dies ' of any description. . . . 
 
 Wednesday. Yesterday was so charming Lady Stuart 
 took me to Granton, where we passed the greater part 
 of it with Lady McN., whom we found busy with your 
 seals, covering charity-boxes, which really look very 
 imposing. You ask me to recommend books for your 
 society, but I only do so from the report of others. Austin's 
 ' Russia,' said to be very Romish but interesting ; ' Journey 
 from Cornhill to Cairo,' amusing ; * Life of Fowell Buxton,' 
 excellent. I don't add the D. of Argyll's Essay/ for though 
 clever, it is rather arrogant and petulant, and full of misrepre- 
 sentations of the Free Church, though I think it is all ' tint ' 
 that falls upon the Scottish Episcopacy and Tractarianism. 
 . . . My delight is in Dr. Chalmers's Sabbath readings. 
 But I must make an end of further scribbling, as the day 
 is so fine I must take my ' Dove's Neck ' into the sun for 
 half-an-hour. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1846) 
 
 My dear Helen, I forgot to say you did subscribe to 
 Lady Nairn's Songs, which will be forthcoming in a few 
 days, and yr. copy I suppose will be sent to Stanmore. 2 
 I am much exhausted by a visit from the author of the 
 ' Protestant Pastor ! ' Poor Miss Catmer 3 is drawing 
 very near her end, and has caused her friends here to be 
 
 1 Lady Stuart, daughter of Pro- line Baroness Nairn. Arranged 
 fessor Monro; married 1835 Sir with|symphonies and accompaniments. 
 James Stuart, Bart, of Allan-bank. Finlay Dun, 1846. 
 
 The title is now extinct. (J. F.) 3 She lived as companion to old 
 
 2 Lays from Strathearn, by Car o- Miss Edmonstone. (J. F.) 
 
 U 2 
 
292 MISS TERRIER'S LATER YEARS 
 
 CH. V 
 
 informed of her situation. I hope you will give me due 
 warning of your arrival here, that I may arrange my little 
 movements accordingly, as I 'do think seriously of going 
 to Toravon for a few days ! a gt. enterprise for me, I 
 assure you. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS FLETCHER 
 
 May 29 [1846?] 
 
 My dear Friend, I am not going to write you a letter. 
 I am only going to tell you what pleasure I had in receiv- 
 ing yours, and how gladly I will welcome another ; indeed, 
 your letters are a very great treat, so whenever you wish 
 to do a kind, charitable, amiable action you will write to me \ 
 My sister continues pretty much the same as when you 
 were here, certainly not better, tho' not perceptibly worse. 
 I was interrupted by a visit from Hope Mackenzie and 
 her little deaf boy. They are to go to the country next 
 week. She told me what will distress many, yourselves 
 amongst others, that Dr. Alison was seized with apoplexy 
 yesterday when in the infirmary, and was carried home 
 speechless, but is rather better to-day. 1 I saw Mary 
 C. yesterday, who has been in sorrow for the loss of 
 her friend Mrs. Bruce (of Kennet), but otherwise seems 
 tolerably well. Charlotte has returned quite mesmeric, or 
 rather clairvoyant, under the authority of the Bishop of 
 Oxford, who is said to say that, if any one will show him 
 a single passage in Scripture where good was done under 
 evil influence, he will give up mesmerism. I long to hear 
 the result of the mesmeric conference with the archbishop. 
 I send you a specimen of a most promising new penny 
 periodical. Your dud of a shawl came after you were 
 gone, and it is not fit to be sent after you or given to any 
 one else (having been done in a violent hurry expressly for 
 you). Query, What's to be done with it ? I would fain 
 have written a word to dear Mrs. Davy to thank her for 
 
 1 William Pultenay Alison, M.D., elder brother of the historian. He 
 died in 1859. 
 
CH. v DEATH OF MRS. GRAHAM 293 
 
 her kind and charming billet, but I feel I have done 
 enough ; so with my love tell her how much I prize it, and 
 tho' I have little hope of ever meeting her or any of 
 you here, I pray we may all meet hereafter. With 
 affectionate regards to Mrs. Fletcher, 
 
 I am ever yours, 
 
 S. E. FERRIER. 
 
 MISS HOPE MACKENZIE TO S. E. F. 
 
 East Dalmeny : September 21, 1846. 
 
 My dear Friend, I am sure you have all my affection- 
 ate sympathy in everything that concerns you ; so I fear 
 it is only a selfish indulgence my yielding to the desire to 
 say a word of loving kindness to you in this new affliction. 
 May He who has sent it be felt to be present with you and 
 yours in all the richness of His own divine consolations 
 that comfort in Christ which keeps the believer's heart 
 amid all the trials of this world of parting and sorrow from 
 overwhelming trouble, and points to the many mansions of 
 the Father's house, where His word assures His redeemed 
 that death-divided friends shall meet to part no more far 
 more than that, shall ' be together for ever with the Lord.' 
 While I mourn with you, my dear friend, under such a 
 bereavement, I desire with you to bless the name of the 
 Lord, through whom your dear sister's l end was peace, 
 thus mingling peace, the effectual comfort, in your cup of 
 sorrow. I am thankful you have not suffered in health, 
 and that Mrs. Kinloch and your niece are still with you 
 at this time. I hope you may make out going to your 
 brother's, but perhaps I may get a sight of you first, for if 
 the weather be good there is a likelihood that I may be 
 in Doune Terrace 2 on Thursday, and if so, it will be 
 a great gratification to me to see you. But my going is 
 not certain. If I do not appear, you know that you have 
 my kindest thoughts and wishes with you. 
 
 1 The death of Mrs. Graham, 2 Where Mr. Jas. Mackenzie 
 
 1846, aged 79. (J. F.) lived. (J. F.) 
 
294 Mi ss FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 We have been keeping well, and have rather better 
 accounts of Alfred (his hearing, I mean) since he went to 
 school. Holt is still with us ; the Belmonts l all away on 
 Northern visits and circuit, which they are greatly enjoying. 
 I have very good accounts, too, of Lord Medwyn from Moy, 
 where he has got much better and stronger among the 
 kind Cummings. 
 
 Good-bye, dear friend, all that is truly good be with you. 
 May the Lord bless you and comfort you. 
 
 Your ever affectionate 
 
 H. M. 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN TO S. E. F. 
 
 Brussels : September 8, 1846. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, Will you have the kindness to 
 forward the enclosed drawing to your niece, Miss Helen ? 
 It is for her album and the fulfilment of a promise I made 
 her last year. The design represents the two Leonoras 
 expecting the approach of Tasso. I hope it will please her. 
 I have painted the subject, and an engraving of it will be 
 published next year. Writing this at Brussels will surprise 
 you, but it is only at such places that I have time for 
 friendship ; for the future I am not going to work so hard 
 as I have hitherto done. I am over here painting some 
 portraits of the Royal Family, and my efforts to please the 
 King will prove satisfactory to my name and purse. I will 
 return to England about the 2Oth, when I shall be very 
 busy indeed in making preparations for an event the most 
 interesting in my life. When Mr. Harvey was in town 
 I commissioned him to tell you all about it. I am sure I 
 have your sympathy. My choice is after your own heart ; 
 you would have selected her for me yourself. She is a dear 
 girl. The consummation of my happiness will take place 
 about the loth of next month. My betrothed is Scotch, 
 and we both agree we could not do better than to spend 
 the first days of our nuptials in Scotland. If I bring her 
 
 1 Her brother, Lord Mackenzie, lived at Belmont, near Edinburgh. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. v ROBERT THORBURN'S SKETCHES 295 
 
 to you, will you let her be a candidate for your friendship ? 
 With kind remembrances to my friends in Albany Street, I 
 am, my dear Miss Ferrier, 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN. 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN TO S. E. F. 
 
 77 Upper Berkeley Street : January 15. 
 
 . . . My tour in the north has restored to me my 
 former energy, and increased, if it were possible, my love 
 for my art. This J. am bestowing upon that class of my 
 unfinished pictures which have had no favour in my eyes ; 
 otherwise they might have been sent forth without adding 
 to my reputation ; but they have not entirely occupied all 
 my attention. I have occasionally given myself leisure for 
 the conception of future works. An illustration of the 
 seasons is the latest, some trifling sketches of which I 
 enclose, and beg that you will criticise them as fairly as the 
 Holy Family. When I sketched the latter design to you 
 I suspected not the severe ordeal it had to undergo. I 
 am sorry that I did not bestow more care upon it, as 
 Mr. Harvey perhaps would have comprehended no more. 
 Concerning the same picture, I still have my doubts about 
 the wings, but I dare say that I will reason myself into the 
 propriety of submitting to your better judgment. The 
 sketches I enclose are Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. 
 Spring is depicted by four chubby little fellows gambolling 
 round a natural fountain. Summer appears in two girls 
 full of the bloom of life, and adorning each other with 
 flowers. Autumn shows herself in an aged couple wending 
 their steps to a little mountain church, their thoughts 
 being turned to a change in this life. Winter dreary 
 winter I have represented as the companion of death, the 
 witherer of all our hopes. I am coming to Scotland again 
 soon, but I am anxious in the meantime to have your 
 criticism. 
 
296 MISS TERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN TO S. E. F. 
 
 77 Upper Berkeley Street : September 9, 1847. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, Since my return to England 
 Mrs. Thorburn has presented me with a daughter and a 
 candidate for your friendship. Mamma is very well, and 
 the baby makes full use of its lungs. I have not yet quite 
 recovered from the novelty of the event. At times I am 
 all happiness as the parent of the little creature, and then 
 all gravity with the anxious thought of its future educa- 
 tion. 
 
 I saw my friend Tom the other day on his way to the 
 Continent ; he appeared very well and full of the idea of 
 being a traveller. With Mrs. Thorburn's kindest regards, 
 I am, my dear Miss Ferrier, 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 ROBERT THORBURN. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Nelson Street : November 8, 1847. 
 
 As my disinclination, or rather my disability, for writing 
 daily increases, you must not think it strange if my billets 
 are few and short and far between. Moreover, my days 
 glide away in a quiet, even tenor, which, though pleasant to 
 experience, affords little to impart. , Health, to be sure, is 
 a never failing subject, but the less one says on that (except 
 to their doctor) the better ; so I shall only say, though 
 never well, I thank God I am able to go out and walk on 
 level ground and enjoy this sweet, mild weather. This, 
 with visits from friends, and reading (or rather listening) 
 and knitting, fills up the measure of my time. . . . The 
 only notable incident I have to record is that of having 
 received a present of a most exquisitely wrought and 
 mounted cushion from Lady Edmonstone ! much the 
 handsomest I have ever seen, only too handsome for me 
 
 1 Wife of Sir Archibald Edmonstone, Bart. (J. F.) 
 
en. v SIR JAMES AND LADY GRAHAM 297 
 
 and mine, much as I deprecate paltry presents and abjure 
 the whole bag, purse, and pocket-book tribe. She 
 (Lady E.) is a charming creature, and, I am happy to 
 say, now enjoys good health. Have you read her 
 neighbour Mrs. Murray Gartshore's tale * Cleveland ? ' 
 I think it a work of great genius and merit, and one that 
 exhibits in a most powerful manner the evils of Romanism, 
 though some are so dim-sighted they can't or won't see it 
 in that light. The I slay crisis is come, and I fear poor 
 Lady Charlotte must suffer with many others . . . 1 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 I am very sorry you should have been disappointed in 
 the result of the application, especially as I cannot devise 
 what more can be done. ' S. G.'s ' name is not only 
 noted, but especially so, and when the time comes he * will 
 be cared for,' so writes Lady Graham of course, by Sir 
 J.'s sanction, 2 and they are neither of them people to 
 give mere fair words and hold out false promises. For 
 several years past I have experienced the most steady and 
 unremitting kindness in various ways from Lady G., so that 
 I should prove myself most unworthy of her regard were 
 I to testify the slightest distrust of her on this, or any 
 other, occasion. If Sir J. is, therefore, in office when 
 S. G. is ready, prepared to claim the fulfilment of this 
 promise, I have not the least doubt it will be per- 
 formed . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 October 13. 
 
 I have taken fright lest you should send me a brown 
 silk gown, as I never ' walk in silk attire ' at this season, 
 but in a douce woolly garment, not of many colours, but 
 
 1 The bankruptcy and ruin .of Mr. it was fully expected that he would 
 Campbell, of Islay, through extrava- be First Lord of the Admiralty at 
 gant living. (J. F.) this time, but the arrangements for 
 
 2 Sir James Graham, of Netherby ; his appointment fell through. 
 
298 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 such as befits my extreme old age and increasing in- 
 firmities, not quite so superficial as the enclosed mits, 
 which are said to be the ne plus ultra of Shetland knitting. 
 I had a long visit from Lady Augusta Bruce yesterday, 
 when I stated Sam's 1 case to her ; said she would help 
 me if she possibly could, but the only channel she has 
 to the D. of N. 2 is rather more circuitous than that of 
 the Jardines. . . . She is going to Paris soon for the 
 winter. She is a charming creature quite unspoiled by 
 Courts. 
 
 S. . F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 September 22. 
 
 Many a time I have wished to write to you of late, but 
 during the cold weather my cough was so severe I was fit 
 for nothing ; it is now somewhat abated with the rigour of 
 the atmosphere, so I must make haste while the sun shines 
 (which it does very benignly) to answer your letter On 
 reading it, my first consideration was whether I could do 
 anything to aid in your kind endeavours in behalf of poor 
 Sam. It is an easy matter to make suit when one can go 
 direct to the fountain head, but where there are many 
 interposing channels in the way one must first find out 
 whether these are fordable, especially in the case of the 
 D. of A. 3 who, as is well known, is not easy of approach ! 
 The only medium I could think of was the Jardine 
 family, and I drove to Newington to speir at them ; but 
 my intimates, Lady Mackenzie and Miss J., are both 
 in England, and I could not propound my queries on 
 paper such as whether his Grace was likely to grant 
 the request, and whether, being the nephew and heir 
 apparent to the D. of N., they were on good terms. 
 When I had ascertained these facts, I should then 
 have asked you to send me a brief and clear statement 
 of what was required, and upon what grounds, and, 
 
 1 A grand-nephew, Samuel Graham, berland. (J. F.) 
 
 (J. F.) 3 Probably the Duke of Athol. 
 
 2 Probably the Duke of Northum- (J. F.) 
 
CH. v SIR JOHN RICHARDSON 299 
 
 indeed, I should like to have it in case of any possibility 
 ensuing, though not probable in my recluse life. Now to 
 descend to your humpy protege. I find he is well known 
 to Lady Matilda, 1 so I gave his letter to H. Walker to 
 send to Garscube, where it may be of use .... 
 
 S. E. F. TO LADY RICHARDSON 
 
 December 29, 1848. 
 
 Gladly do I respond to your greeting, my dear friend, 
 for I should be sorry if all intercourse between us were to 
 cease here, even though I hope it may be renewed here- 
 after. I can well imagine how great your conjugal anxiety 
 must be when the cause is one to excite so strong a 
 national interest and sympathy ; but you have the comfort 
 of possessing and knowing that your husband has the same 
 trustful confidence in Him who is everywhere 'a very 
 present help in trouble.' Still, the constant exercise of 
 that faith is a trial, and a very great one ; but it is a noble 
 exercise called forth on a noble occasion, and I doubt not 
 you will be enabled to hold fast the beginning of your 
 confidence even unto the end. I was glad to hear of Dr. 
 Davy's return, as an event which must cause much joy in 
 the one circle of both dwellings. I beg my love and 
 felicitations to dear Mrs. Davy, as having the first claim 
 to all congratulations, and next to Mrs. Fletcher, who can 
 scarcely be called second in any good or pleasurable feel- 
 ings. . . . Poor Miss Walker continues much in the same 
 state able to articulate two or three words in her own 
 tongue, but the rest quite unintelligible. Her sister's 
 entire devotedness to her is beyond all praise ! I saw 
 Charlotte and her daughter Lotty on Christmas Day, 
 both well and happy in each other. I hear Mary C. is 
 now at Ravelstone, but we have not yet met. I am at 
 present tolerably well for me. . . . 
 
 1 Maxwell. (J. F.) 
 
5oo MISS TERRIER'S LATER YEARS L v 
 
 S. E. F. TO LADY RICHARDSON^ 
 
 Edinburgh : August I, 1849. 
 
 It was truly kind in you, my dear friend* to think of 
 me at a time when your heart must have been full of joy, 
 and I feel very sensibly this proof of your continued 
 friendship. Few out of your own family, I am sure, could 
 enter more deeply into your feelings than I do, for few can 
 have a warmer admiration for the character of your heroic 
 husband having read the narrative of \\isfirst expedition. 
 I have always looked upon his voluntary encounter of the 
 sufferings and dangers of the second as one of the noblest 
 undertakings in the history of man. How interesting 
 beyond all romance must be his simple record of facts, and 
 what a happiness is before you in the prospect of his safe 
 and speedy return, which may God grant with his blessing 
 on your reunion ! In humble imitation of your generous 
 example I wrote immediately to communicate the glad 
 tidings to Mary C. and Helen Mackenzie, the former being 
 at Killermont and the latter at summer quarters in Lin- 
 lithgowshire, and my virtue has been rewarded by grateful 
 acknowledgments from both. You may guess how few 
 and far between are my familiar friends at present ; when 
 Charlotte C. leaves town I shall not have one left. Yet 
 here I shall remain, as my health is now so infirm, and 
 the weather so uninviting, I think I am better at home 
 than I should be anywhere else. I rejoice to hear how Mrs. 
 Fletcher continues to enjoy her green and beautiful old age, 
 and that dear Mrs. Davy is also well and happy. How much 
 I should like to meet you all again but alas ! I feel that 
 will never be in this world. God grant it may be in another. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1849?) 
 
 Monday. 
 
 Many thanks, my dear Helen, for your kind offer of 
 supplying my wants or gratifying my wishes ; but, as I 
 
 1 Sir John Richardson had gone was expected when this letter was 
 out on an Arctic Search Expedition written. (J. F.) 
 for Sir J. Franklin, and his return 
 
CH. v LETTERS TO MRS. TENNENT 301 
 
 cannot say what I particularly need or covet, I shall not 
 tax your liberality at present. I may take shame to my- 
 self for not having long since sent the seal box I mentioned 
 to you, but I have kept it in hopes something else would 
 cast up as an accompaniment, it being scarcely fit to perform 
 the journey alone. But, alas ! nothing has presented itself, 
 and I am not in the way of going in quest of vanities, 
 having scarcely been in a shop these six months (indeed, I 
 might almost say two years), having neither strength to shop 
 nor money to spend. So all I can do is to wrap it in a bit 
 of knitted patchwork, which (like many other things) can 
 be of no particular use. But being of a * frugal mind,' like 
 Mrs. Gilpin, I bethought me how I could use to some or 
 any purpose whatever divers odds and ends of woolgather- 
 ings (I had), and that was the result ; the remainder I am 
 now working in the same way for Lady Edmonstone, who 
 says it is very Turkish set it up ! The pamphlet I should 
 have sent long ago, if I had not feared it might be rather a 
 bore to the Colonel to receive such things, let a be read 
 them. He must have much satisfaction in his munificent 
 donation to the Church, 1 as he has reason to hope it may 
 tend to the glory of God and the good of man. ... I am 
 still with Mrs. Fry, which I enjoy much. ... I hear much 
 of Macaulay's ' History/ but it must be many a day before 
 that comes my length. 
 
 S.E.F. TO MRS. TENNENT (iSso) 
 
 .... While I was writing, I was surprised by the 
 entrance of that charming person, Lady M. Maxwell, 2 who 
 staid with me as long as I was able to bear her\ She has 
 promised to come and see me very often for a month to 
 come, which will be a great solace to me in my deep 
 solitude and hermit cell. ... I am much disappointed in 
 
 1 Colonel Tennent gave the ground died. (J. F.) 
 
 on which the present church at Great 2 Daughter of the seventh Earl of 
 
 Stanmore stands. It is opposite Elgin ; married, 1839, Sir John 
 
 'The Pynnacles,' where he lived and Maxwell, Bart., of Pollock. (J. F.) 
 
3O2 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS en. v 
 
 ' The Wide World.' ] It is for young people, and objection- 
 able for them on account of the American vulgarity which 
 pervades it ; yet there are beautiful passages, and much 
 sweet genuine piety throughout, by which we may all be 
 edified. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1850) 
 
 The ' Fishwife ' is by the lady of your old acquaintance. 
 Another work by a quondam associate of yours is the 
 * Account of Sierra Leone/ by one of the Miss Randall 
 Callanders, afterwards Mrs. Melville. 2 I am reading it on a 
 loan from Mary Campbell, who, alas ! is now so deaf it is 
 almost death for me to speak to her, my voice is so 
 much gone. Mrs. Christison is laid up with lumbago, and 
 I am unable to mount her stair, so we have not met for a 
 long while. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1850?) 
 
 .... The weather has been and still is bitter, even ' by 
 ordinerl as the bodies say ; but, whenever it has been 
 possible for me to venture out, Lady Stuart 3 has kindly 
 placed her carriage at my disposal, so with glasses up and 
 blinds down I have had some gay drives ! My friends are 
 few and far between at present, as Mrs. Christison is with 
 her old aunt, Mrs. Clavering, near London, and Mary Camp 
 with Mrs. Sheridan 4 at Hampton Court ... I ought long 
 since to have thanked you for the ' Harvest ' you sent me, 
 which I liked very much, but must hear it again, as I am 
 often so drumlie and dowie I cannot do justice to what is 
 read to me. Miss Mary Lester 5 has put forth an allegory, 
 
 1 Published in 1850. burgh. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Edited by Mrs. Norton (who was 4 Mother of the three well-known 
 a kinswoman of the writer) in 1850. Sheridan sisters, Mrs. Norton, the 
 
 3 Widow of Sir James Stuart, Bart., Duchess of Somerset, and Lady 
 of Allanbank. She was daughter of Dufferin. Miss C. was her cousin. 
 Professor Monro, of Craiglockart ; he (J. F.) 
 
 was the third of a remarkable trio of 5 A cousin. (J. F. ) 
 anatomists in the University of Edin 
 
CH. v BOOKS AND PICTURES 303 
 
 ' Guardian Angels,' very prettily written, and neatly done 
 up, and quite harmless. ... I have heard some bits of a 
 book which I think the Colonel would like, ' The Lives of 
 the Lindsays ' ; it seems very entertaining, and well written 
 by the noble author and descendant, the present Lord, who 
 does credit even to that most remarkable race. . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1850) 
 
 May 5-7 [1850 ?] 
 
 I must now try to clear scores with you in the episto- 
 lary way, being somewhat better than when I last wrote, 
 though I have not much to boast of, nor can expect any 
 amendment while this vicious east wind blows. The litho- 
 graphs will be most welcome, come when they may. I 
 wished much to have gone to the Exhibition for a few 
 minutes, merely to see Harvey's l pictures ; there is always 
 so much in them suggestive of good thoughts, and that 
 raises one's mind above the ordinary level of this work-a- 
 day world. I was unable, however, to go, neither could I 
 go to his house to see the one he has sent to London. I 
 am not acquainted with Mr. H., and feel unfit to encounter 
 strangers, as my voice is at times so husky I can't bear to 
 hear it, and at others is almost inaudible. I forget whether 
 I mentioned that Thorburn 2 took me by surprise not long 
 since by entering most unexpectedly. He had taken a 
 run down, he said, merely by way of relaxation from his 
 incessant labours. If I mistake not, he said he had upwards 
 of forty pictures in hand, besides a long list of names 
 booked ; he is going to raise his terms to 2OO/. for full 
 lengths, and do little or nothing by halves. . . . Professor 
 James and his whole family have been staying with 
 
 1 Harvey was a native of Stirling, of the Royal Scottish Academy, 
 
 and it was Mrs. Graham who dis- (J. F.) 
 
 covered the great talent in him when 2 The eminent miniature painter, 
 
 quite a youth. He was well known who has been already mentioned on 
 
 later as Sir George Harvey, President p. 265. (J. F.) 
 
304 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS on. v 
 
 Professor Wilson, to cheer him for the loss of his daughter 
 Jane, 1 who, with her husband, is now in London. . . . 
 
 MISS HOPE MACKENZIE TO S. E. F. 
 
 9 Doune Terrace : January 27, 1850. 
 
 Mowbray can read this to you if you please. 
 
 My dear Friend, What a sad break on our intercourse 
 this has been, with so much sickness and suffering on both 
 sides, yet in one way (the most precious) I am sure we 
 have met at a throne of grace in mutual intercession. I 
 have often wished to write to you, but I thought it might 
 only hurt you, especially if (as too often) you exerted to 
 write an answer ; and also one of my ails has been tendency 
 to oppressive headache, which any exertion, particularly 
 writing, always brought on or increased, so I was ordered 
 to keep quiet and useless. I am now much better, and I 
 cannot resist sending you the Apostle's greeting to his 
 ' beloved ' friend (John iii.), and also telling you how much 
 we have been thinking of you, and of what you would feel 
 when we heard of the grievous affecting death of your 
 young cousin, Mrs. Gillon, 2 in herself, I understand, so 
 much to be loved and lamented, and the daughter of one 
 whom you so much valued. Oh, that all such clouded 
 dealings of our Heavenly Father's hand may work out the 
 ' intent ' of His love, the Spirit taking these dark things 
 and so applying them to the soul as to sanctify and make 
 meet for the inheritance of light above all clouds and dark- 
 ness. I have been much pleased with the little books that 
 
 1 Married, 1849, Wm. Edmonstone his daughter's hand. The young lady 
 Aytoun, Professor of Belles Lettres in herself undertook the service of danger. 
 Edinburgh University. She left the room and quickly reap- 
 There is a pleasing legend about peared. Turning her back to her 
 this marriage. It is said that Aytoun, lover, she disclosed a placard, ' With 
 imbued, as every young Scotchman of the author's compliments.' (J. F. ) 
 letters was (at least if a Tory), with 2 Mrs. Gillon, of Wallhouse, 
 profound reverence for Christopher daughter of Colonel F. Hamilton, 
 North, shrank from asking him for died in childbed, 1850. (J. F.) 
 
CH. v LORD JEFFREY'S ILLNESS 305 
 
 dear Mrs. Stenhouse gave us lately they were new to us, 
 but I see their circulation in England has been very great, 
 especially the call to * Come to Jesus ' the plan of which 
 (a very small portion of man's words), introducing a large 
 one of the word of God, is, I think, an admirable one. 
 The other, * The Voice of Jesus in the Storm,' is very 
 applicable to a time of sorrow or trial. I will not plague 
 you with the gift of them, but I am tempted to send the 
 loan in case you like to let Mowbray read a bit at any 
 leisure time. . . . Helen l keeps pretty well, and we are 
 very thankful that my brother, Lord M., has been none 
 the worse of resuming his labours. He and Mrs. Mac- 
 kenzie are deeply grieved for Lord Jeffrey. The rapidity 
 of his mortal illness has been most striking, and how 
 much one does feel for kind, amiable Mrs. Jeffrey, and 
 for his daughter, who arrived only this morning to find it 
 was too late ! Mercifully, a niece of his, who was almost 
 like a daughter to him and Mrs. Jeffrey, has been with 
 them. 
 
 Lord Medwyn, thank God, continues gradually, though 
 slowly, recovering his strength. Now you must not write 
 a word in answer to this too long note. I do hope now 
 (weather favouring) to get to see you ere long. Meantime 
 and ever best of blessings be with you. 
 
 Your very affectionate and faithful friend, 
 
 H. M. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1850-1?) 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 . . . This town is now such a desert, there is scarcely a 
 person in it with whom I am on speaking terms ; not one of 
 my intimates remain. ... so I shall really be, what the 
 French lady called herself in like circumstances, ' a most 
 abandoned creature.' 
 
 Monday. As if to say ' that's not true,' Lady McN. 
 entered just as I had laid down my pen and closed my 
 
 1 Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Mackenzie. (J. F.) 
 
 X 
 
306 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 eyes for the day. She is as kindly affectionate as ever, 
 testified by the many many tokens I am constantly re- 
 ceiving from Granton ; but the house is always full of 
 company at this season, so she acts the invisible fairy to 
 her remote friends. . . . The Professor l has now lost the 
 power of speech. Alas ! what a subject for moralizing, and 
 I would fain say a great deal more, but I cannot at this 
 time. 
 
 LADY AUGUSTA BRUCE* TO S. E. F. 
 
 Polloc : Saturday, November 10. 
 
 Dear Miss Ferrier, The accompanying sermons are 
 those of which I spoke, and if it does not fatigue you to 
 look into them, I think you will find much that is most 
 beautiful, strengthening, and comforting. The first bears 
 more particularly on the subject to which you alluded on 
 Sunday. I only wish I were in Edinburgh, and could have 
 the great pleasure of reading them to you. I shall 
 endeavour during the course of next week, when I pass 
 through, to call and inquire, hoping to find that my 
 unreasonably long visit has not produced any bad conse- 
 quences. I have copied the few lines which I now enclose, 
 as it seems to me that my correspondent explains very 
 clearly and happily how one may with perfect consistency 
 wear a lock of Prince Charlie's hair in a bit of John Knox's 
 pulpit ! 
 
 I remain, dear Miss Ferrier, with much respect and 
 regard, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 AUGUSTA E. F. BRUCE. 
 
 Of course you have seen Aytoun's ' Lays of the 
 Scottish Cavaliers.' 3 Are they not beautiful ? It is curious 
 to observe in the history of your dear countrymen the 
 
 1 John Wilson. (J. F. ) 8 Aytoun's Lays were published in 
 
 2 Married Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, 1849. 
 Dean of Westminster. 
 
CH. v AYTOUN'S LAYS 307 
 
 different ways in which their loyalty has shown itself the 
 devoted adherence to the Stuarts on the one hand, and the 
 stedfast maintenance of that truth that Christ alone is Head 
 of His Church, or, as they phrase it, * King in Zion.' The 
 two, though they seem opposed at first, are the same 
 principle of truth contended for civilly and ecclesiastically to 
 Caesar and to God, and there are traits in the stories of the 
 Covenanters that might well rank side by side with the 
 stories of the Cavaliers. Oh ! how one longs sometimes 
 for the disentangling of truth from all that has encumbered 
 it, and for the harmony of the truth to be manifest. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 I fled the country ten days ago, so your letter followed 
 me there and here, and has only just reached me. Your 
 visit may well seem to you like a dream ; it does so to me, 
 and like a troubled one, for I cannot but reproach myself 
 with not having made greater efforts to show you more 
 kindness, even though it should have been in an uncom- 
 fortable way ! You may believe there were no omissions 
 of that kind when you left me, and I enjoyed a few warm 
 days in my own out of the world way, though I can't say 
 I was sensible of any improvement in my health, and now 
 the weather is cold I am glad to be in my own den and by 
 the fire-side . . . 
 
 Wednesday. Lady McNeill has been here laden with 
 fruits and flowers. I showed her Yad? and she said she 
 would recommend Blackwood to get it. I wouldn't tell 
 her who was the author till I had permission. I know no 
 mankind in town, even my doctor is absent, and 1 should 
 suppose there is very little reading at this season. The 
 * Lays ' are only too beautiful ; the Colonel must read the 
 critique upon them in the * North British Review ' for 
 April. 
 
 1 Neither of the editors can throw any light on this mysterious word. 
 
 X 2 
 
3o8 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS en. v 
 
 ' Facts are Chields that winna ding/ as Burns says, and 
 there are some stated there that completely ding certain of 
 the professor's averments. 1 Many thanks for your kind 
 offer of supplying my wants, but at present I have none 
 at least none in your way. At any time if you happen to 
 meet with a small fan of a dark colour I would be glad of 
 such, not to cool me, but to cause a little circulation of air 
 when I am in church. I had one of rosewood, which is 
 now worn out and is not to be replaced in all Edinburgh ! 
 Mowbray says she has been in every shop, but could 
 see nothing but fine ivory or painted paper ones . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Thursday evening. 
 
 On returning from my airing I found your note await- 
 ing me, which was an unexpected pleasure and more than 
 I deserved. Many thanks for your kind offers, but, as 
 Mowbray 2 says, my wants are many my wishes are few, 
 and I am little in the way of temptation, as I know not 
 when I was last in a shop ! Perhaps if you are in that 
 way, and should chance to meet with a very quiet, dark 
 browny or purply stuff of a cheap kind, I might be induced 
 to change my garment, since the wind has changed its 
 position ; but pray let it be cheap. I should like to hear 
 of the Exhibition ; if there is an account of the pictures in 
 any paper perhaps you will send it. Poor Harvey, another 
 mortification for him in the hanging of his picture. Did 
 you see Hope Stewart's * Landing of the Queen at Dum- 
 barton ' ? I am interested for him ; he is such a good 
 creature, and supports an aged mother and delicate sister 
 by his labours. . . . 
 
 1 A review of Aytoun's Lays ap- in a thoroughly partisan spirit, and is 
 
 peared in the North British for unlikely to convince any one who is 
 
 February 1850, dealing mainly with not convinced beforehand, 
 
 his refutation of Macaulay's attack on 2 Miss Ferrier's maid, often men- 
 
 Claverhouse. The review is written tioned. 
 
CH. v THE MEETING OF THE BEASTS 309 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 The box arrived about two hours ago, and I have been 
 busy till this moment inspecting and arranging its various 
 contents. The foot-warmer is an excellent as well as 
 ornamental invention, and nothing could be more suitable 
 to one who suffers so much from extreme cold as I do. 
 The tray is of a material unknown to me, but I admire its 
 queer antique appearance. The tea is most acceptable, 
 and I hope to regale my messmates, Mrs. Chris., Mary 
 C, &c., &c., by-and-bye with a cup of * Twining's best/ 
 but at present my familiars are all absent. Since the 
 meeting of the beasts l is over, few bipeds are to be seen, 
 at least in this unfrequented region, though I believe 
 travellers swarm in all other directions. . 
 
 THE HON. LORD CUNINGHAM TO S. E. F. 
 
 Moray Place : October 18, 1850. 
 
 My dear Miss Ferrier, You may be well aware that 
 it is with great regret, that I am obliged to send the 
 enclosed unsuccessful result of our application to Lord 
 Campbell. I hope it is in good faith ; and it might happen 
 that he had got other favours recently from the Chancellor 
 which precluded a new application. 
 
 I wish I could suggest another channel more likely to 
 be successful. As Lord John Russell represents the City 
 of London, if any of Mr. Kinloch's friends could apply to 
 his Lordship, I have a notion it might be effectual ; or if 
 Mr. Kinloch, from his connection with Kincardineshire, 
 could get access to Mr. Fox Maule, by any means, he 
 would have a good chance of carrying his point. Unfor- 
 tunately, I have not for many years been on any habits 
 
 1 The Meeting of the Beasts alludes Mrs. Erskine, altered it, and, as she 
 to a thing Miss Ferrier wrote, but it thought, improved it, but it was dull 
 was never published; her friend, and prosy, I have heard. (J. F.) 
 
3io MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 with Maule, and am quite unacquainted with Lord J. I 
 wish on the present occasion it were otherwise, and remain 
 ever, my dear Miss Ferrier, 
 
 Yours with sincere esteem, 
 
 J. CUNINGHAM. 
 
 FROM LORD CAMPBELL (LORD CHANCELLOR} 
 TO LORD CUNINGHAM (EDINBURGH} 
 
 Stratheden House : February 16, 1850. 
 
 My dear Cuningham, I should have been delighted 
 if I could have been of any service to a kinsman of Miss 
 Ferrier, to whom I consider myself under deep obligations 
 for the pleasure I have derived from her charming writings, 
 but I assure you that it is not in my power to interfere 
 in any way with the exercise of the Lord Chancellor's 
 patronage. 
 
 Yours very sincerely, 
 
 CAMPBELL. 
 
 I am running off to attend a meeting about the 
 monument to poor Jeffrey. 
 
 The following correspondence with Bentley reminds us 
 of what we are tempted to forget, that we are dealing not 
 merely with a shrewd and observant critic watching life 
 from within a small private circle, but with a writer who 
 had been for forty years a classic. At last, in the edition 
 of 1852, the worn-out mask was thrown off, and Miss 
 Ferrier appeared before the world in her own name. 1 We 
 need not interpret this as showing any late born craving 
 for publicity. Rather it marks how fully the old life and 
 associations had passed away. There was no longer the 
 dread of alienating the victims of her sarcasm ; Edinburgh 
 literary society with its curious traditions and superstitions 
 of secrecy was a thing of the past. 
 
 1 The following correspondence in consideration of the author's name 
 
 clearly shows that this was at Bentley's appearing, Bentley withdrew the 
 
 request. One is rather tempted to vignettes, to which Miss Ferrier had a 
 
 think that it was a bargain, and that strong (and creditable) aversion. 
 
CH. v A FRESH NOVEL DEMANDED 311 
 
 It is somewhat startling, too, to find Bentley making 
 suggestions for a new novel. Such a reappearance would 
 scarcely have had a parallel save in the production of 
 ' Gryll Grange,' separated by an interval of thirty years 
 from * Crotchet Castle.' Even a hearty admirer of Miss 
 Ferrier may doubt whether her powers would have stood 
 the test as Peacock's did. In * Gryll Grange ' we see 
 occasional traces of the old spirit of reckless sarcasm 
 which tilted alike at Byron and Coleridge, at Tory 
 Squires and Edinburgh Reviewers. But it is everywhere 
 softened and mellowed as in the light of sunset And 
 when it is lacking its place is abundantly supplied by 
 maxims of wisdom, half cynical, half kindly, by scholarly 
 graces of thought and speech, by unexpected touches of 
 romance. Miss Ferrier had no such store of acquired 
 wisdom and developed sentiment to draw upon. Her 
 special excellences, grotesque inventiveness of incident, 
 comic and even farcical dialogue, unhesitating descriptions 
 of situation or character, needed to be fed from springs 
 alike without and within, which had now run dry. The 
 old reckless mirth, largely dependent on animal spirits and 
 joyous surroundings, was no longer dominant. Reflection 
 and a clear sense of the seriousness of life had not fused 
 themselves with humour ; rather they had warred against 
 it and repressed it. With her best gifts impaired, Miss 
 Ferrier could no longer have won forgiveness for her short- 
 comings. No one within the pale of salvation has ever 
 troubled himself seriously because there is present in Miss 
 Ferrier's works a certain crudity of expression, and a 
 certain lack of harmony between the purely comic and the 
 romantic, or would-be romantic, parts of her novels. 
 Carried away in a full flood of enjoyable humour we are 
 in no mood to be critical about niceties of construction or 
 expression. But even in the case of ' Destiny ' we see how, 
 when once that humour had abated its easy and natural flow, 
 the writer's shortcomings and limitations are forced upon 
 us. It was no over fastidious dread of failure, no par- 
 simonious husbanding of hardly won fame, but a sound 
 and judicious estimate of her resources which kept Miss 
 Ferrier silent. 
 
312 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS 
 
 R. BENTLEY TO S. E. F. 
 
 New Burlington Street : April 4, 1850. 
 
 Madam, I had the pleasure of a visit from your 
 nephew this morning on the subject of ' Marriage,' &c. 
 I regret very much (as, indeed, I have reason to do) that 
 these works did not receive your final corrections. The 
 works are now stereotyped, but even now I should be happy 
 to make any verbal corrections in them, if you would 
 consent to give your name. 
 
 I took the opportunity of inquiring whether you had 
 by you any materials for another work of a similar kind, 
 and was very sorry to hear you were so much an invalid. 
 Possibly much labour might be spared to you in preparing 
 a work for publication. Literary aid is frequently obtained 
 by writers of eminence to lighten their labours in the more 
 mechanical part. 
 
 I need scarcely say how gratified I should feel if I 
 could induce you to give the public another work of fiction. 
 Although the honorarium which I should be happy to 
 offer you might not be of importance to you personally, it 
 might be gratifying to you, inasmuch as it might enable 
 you to exercise to a still greater extent your benevolent 
 feelings towards others. But I would venture to urge a 
 still stronger motive to induce you to listen to my sugges- 
 tion the great value to society of such moral teaching as 
 yours ; for the influence of a writer so justly admired will 
 not be doubted by anyone. 
 
 It would, I frankly confess, be to me a matter of 
 honourable pride to be connected with you in such a work. 
 
 Hoping to hear from you, I have the honour to be, 
 madam, with sincere respect your faithful servant, 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY. 
 
 If you should be induced again to write, I would say 
 that it would not be necessary that the work should exceed 
 the length of ' Marriage.' 
 
CH. v CORRESPONDENCE WITH BENTLEY 313 
 
 S. E. F. TO . BENTLEY 
 
 Edinburgh : 1851.' 
 
 I authorize the publication of my three novels, ' Mar- 
 riage,' ' Inheritance/ and ' Destiny/ with my name prefixed 
 to each, upon the following conditions : 
 
 1. The corrections and alterations made by me in the 
 stereotyped edition shall be adopted. 
 
 2. The illustrations and vignettes shall be expelled. 
 
 3. That I shall have a certain number of copies for 
 myself and friends, the boards to be lined with plain paper 
 instead of the list of * Standard Novels.' 
 
 When these conditions are complied with, I will then 
 give up the penal bond I hold from Mr. Bentley. 
 
 S. E. FERRIER. 
 
 R. BENTLEY TO S. E. F. 
 
 New Burlington Street : January 29, 1852. 
 
 Madam, Mr. Kinloch has placed in my hands the 
 volumes of * Marriage/ ' Inheritance/ and ' Destiny/ cor- 
 rected by you, and will no doubt communicate with you 
 on the subject forthwith. 
 
 I wish I could induce you to give to the public another 
 work of fiction ; at no time within twenty years has there 
 been a greater dearth of really good stories than at present 
 If three volumes should appear too arduous an undertaking, 
 the public would be glad to receive two, or even one 
 volume, although, of course, they might not be so advan- 
 tageous to your publisher. 
 
 The times are now much altered from those when 
 ' Marriage ' appeared ; but if it were possible to meet your 
 views, in the event of your health permitting you to con- 
 template a literary work, I would certainly endeavour to 
 do so ; for I should consider it a high honour to be connected 
 with you in such an undertaking. 
 
 1 I have thought it best to bring this fresh edition of the novels, at the 
 together all the letters bearing on expense of chronological exactitude. 
 
314 MISS TERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 If you will permit me, on hearing from you to that 
 effect, I shall have great pleasure in making you a propo- 
 sition. 
 
 I have the honour to be, madam, with great respect your 
 
 faithful servant, 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY. 
 
 JAMES KINLOCH TO S. E. F. 
 Office of Rolls, St. James's Palace : January 30, 1852. 
 
 My dearest Aunt, I am afraid you will think I have 
 fallen asleep over your work (not works), but I was only 
 able to get Mr. Bentley's answer yesterday evening, altho' 
 I took the books to him the morning after they arrived. 
 He told me he was obliged to get an estimate of the ex- 
 pense from the printer, and altho' it would cost something 
 considerable to make the alterations, and likewise entail 
 the loss of the copies now on hand, he had much pleasure 
 in complying with your terms, but he hoped you would not 
 press the expulsion of the frontispiece in each volume as 
 the works having been published with the plates, he was 
 fearful the new copies would in many instances be returned 
 upon his hands as incomplete adding that whatever was 
 objectionable in the plates could not affect the author of 
 the work, who was only responsible for the text, and could 
 not be answerable for the bad taste of the publisher. The 
 vignettes, I believe you know, have already disappeared. 
 
 I am sorry to say we have quite a sick house at present, 
 poor Sophia suffering from a bad attack of sciatica, and 
 the two youngest with measles, with the prospect of the 
 others being affected with the last. 
 
 Believe me, my dearest Aunt, 
 
 Very affectionately yours, 
 
 JAMES KINLOCH. 
 
 Affectionate regards to Uncle Walter, and all in A. 1 
 Street. 
 
 1 Albany Street. (J. F.) 
 
cu. v CORRESPONDENCE WITH BENTLEY 315 
 
 R. BENTLEY TO S. E. F. 
 
 New Burlington Street : May 18, 1852. 
 
 Madam, I should sooner have replied to your obliging 
 letter of the 4th inst., but have been obliged to go from 
 home on account of ill-health. I am sincerely sorry to hear 
 that you have been suffering, but trust that summer, which is 
 now at last breaking upon us, will restore you to better 
 health, and induce you not to throw aside the idea of again 
 gratifying the public by some production of a writer so 
 justly popular. 
 
 I beg to thank you for your kind permission to announce 
 you as the author of * Marriage/ * Inheritance,' and * Destiny,' 
 and I shall have much pleasure in placing at your disposal 
 a number of copies of your works ; these shall be delivered 
 to anybody you may authorise to receive them, or I shall 
 have much pleasure in directing my agents, Messrs. Boyd, 
 of Edinburgh, to send them to you. 
 
 I have the honour to remain, madam, with sincere 
 admiration, 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY. 
 
 R. BENTLEY TO S. E. F. 
 
 New Burlington Street : May 26, 1852. 
 
 Madam, I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your 
 letter of the 24th inst. Until the corrections are made in 
 your three stories, * Marriage,' * Inheritance,' and ' Destiny,' 
 I perefctly understood that your name was not to be 
 announced. I sincerely trust that you may be able to 
 contribute another work to those you have already given 
 to the world, and which have become classics. 
 
 It will not be before the autumn that the new and 
 corrected editions of your works will appear. 
 
 I have the honour to be, madam, 
 
 Your faithful servant, 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY. 
 
316 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Saturday, January 5, 1851. 
 
 ... I receive very frequent visits from our friend, 
 Dr. Maclagan, whose six sons continue to prosper to be 
 comforts to him, 1 but he is anxious about the seventh, 2 who 
 is bent upon going to India, if possible, in the medical 
 line what does the Colonel say as to the practicability of 
 procuring an appointment ? I believe he does not interfere 
 with Indian matters himself, else I dare say he would 
 lend a helping hand for your and your dear mother's sake. 
 
 Tuesday. Another kind letter and pretty little 
 souvenir ; I really ought to blush, but you may suppose I 
 am living on the Revalenta Arabica, which, amongst all 
 other diseases, professes to cure that of ' involuntary blush- 
 ing.' The butterfly is quite a novelty, but far be it for me to 
 make it the scavenger of my pen ! I wish I had anything 
 to send you in return, but I neither see or hear of aught 
 beyond my own dark walls. I hear of no books, but I see 
 most favourable notices of Humboldt's Letters to a Female 
 Friend.' Here comes the ' Athenaeum,' which, in spite of its 
 bad tone, I like to see. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1851) 
 
 Tuesday. 
 
 I can tell you little of what is saying and doing here, 
 as I scarcely ever go out, and that only for a little airing 
 with glasses up and blinds down, because of the glaring 
 sun and cold east wind ; and I receive very few visitors, as 
 talking excites my cough and exhausts me. Georgy C. 3 
 has just been here, but was too humane to sit down, espe- 
 cially as poor dear Mary was with her, who is now so deaf ! 
 
 Professor Wilson has at last resigned his Academical 
 Chair, 4 and James F. is one of the candidates as his 
 successor, with the good wishes of all who know him. 
 
 'Seep. 16. (J. F.) 
 
 2 The present Archbishop of York. * He retired, 1851, on a pension of 
 0- F.) 300'- a year. (J. F.) 
 
 3 Half-sister of Mary Campbell. 
 
CH. v LETTERS TO MRS. TENNENT 317 
 
 ... I hear ' Roughing it in the Bush ' is a most 
 amusing book. Have you seen it ? I hope you have had 
 Lady McNeill's visit and enjoyed it. She has not for- 
 gotten me in her absence, as her gardener brings me many 
 good things from the garden. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Wednesday, I5th. 
 
 Your boxes put me in mind of those described in 
 fairy tales as sent by beneficent fairies to their god- 
 daughters on great occasions with something of every- 
 thing, so that it would take a long summer's day to 
 enumerate the various articles, and I have only a little 
 bit of a summer's evening to bestow suffice it to say, then, 
 that all were thankfully received and much approved 
 of. ... Agnes and Helen l were here at the opening 
 of the box, and the house rang with applause at sight 
 of their mother's shawl ; it was spread out on your 
 mother's bed, and she admired it much. Mine is very 
 elegant, but I have been so long accustomed to the 
 profound retirement of an old black silk one, that I feel 
 as if the eyes of the world would be upon me were I to 
 emerge in such lustre, so I shall probably avail myself of 
 your privilege after I have duly weighed the needs and 
 merits of various relatives. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 When I received a cloak at your hands it was with the 
 design of making it cover all deficiencies which you were 
 evidently seeking to spy out and supply. I omitted, 
 however, to stipulate that this comprehensive covering 
 should be of the plainest description, and free from all 
 incumbrances and superfluities, such as cowls, hoods, and 
 such like gear. A few days ago I should have been dis- 
 posed to beg it might be lined with fur or flannel, to 
 
 1 Her nieces. (J. F.) 
 
3i8 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 enable me to meet ' gentle spring ' in all its usual ' ethereal 
 mildness ' ; but to-day I hear the glass is up to the freezing 
 point, so I hope in the course of time to hear tell of 
 violets and primroses. ... I hear of very little in the 
 fiction way, the realities of life are as much as I can 
 accomplish now. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 The box has arrived and the cloak is perfect ! It is 
 really everything that a cloak should, would, and could 
 be, and all that I could have desired had I had the order- 
 ing, not the paying, of it. I wish you had been present at 
 the unfolding of it. Mowbray was in hysterics of delight, 
 and could only utter broken exclamations of rapture, 
 ' What a cloak ! splendid, handsome, judicious, comfort- 
 able, elegant, richest of silks, beautifully made, so light, so 
 warm, so ladylike, &c., &c.' Then Eliza was summoned 
 to bear witness, who in her gruff way deponed that she 
 ' didna see how it could weel be handsomer.' My only 
 fault to it, is that it is too good, and that I shall find it 
 difficult to support the dignity of such a cloak, so much 
 will be expected of it ! ... 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 I have a remonstrance to make to you in behalf of a 
 certain collar and cuffs which you have cruelly consigned 
 to the dark receptacle of my wardrobe, where they are 
 pining away a lost existence without the least hope of ever 
 beholding the light while they remain in my possession. 
 Seriously, they are quite thrown away upon me, and it is 
 a pity that anything so pretty should be thrown away ; 
 even if they could be seen upon me, which they cannot, 
 they would very soon cease to be fit to be seen, for though 
 elderly maiden aunts have the credit of being very upright 
 in their persons at least, it is not so with me. I am such a 
 lounger, so given to be either lying on a sofa or leaning 
 
CH. v LETTERS TO MRS. TENNENT 319 
 
 back in my chair, that to be rid of Emily's vain impor- 
 tunities I have been obliged to tell her I must have been 
 born with a crumpled collar. I trust you will therefore 
 take pity on these poor captives and send an order for 
 their release. . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT (1851) 
 
 June i. 
 
 The ice seems to be gathering so thick over our corre- 
 spondence, that unless I make an attempt to break it I fear 
 it will soon become a perfect iceberg, and certainly it will 
 not be the summer's sun that will melt it, as the weather 
 savours more of January than of June. . . . Lady McNeill 
 came to me on her return to tell me what a pleasant day 
 she had spent at Stanmore. She, like myself, is much 
 interested in the result of Professor James's canvass for 
 the Chair of Moral Philosophy in the University here. 
 His testimonials are very high, and if you care to see them 
 I will send you a copy. . . . The Toravon l folks are all 
 well. Georgie Camp: 2 is on a Tower in Stirlingshire, 
 and my friend Mary and I are scarcely on speaking terms> 
 by reason of her deafness and my weakness, which pre- 
 cludes my raising my voice beyond a whisper. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 November 7, 8, 1851. 
 
 Having very little to do, I, of course, do nothing, which 
 is the only reason I can assign for not having despatched 
 the pictures long ere now ; perhaps another cause of the 
 delay may be occasioned by the vague desire of adding 
 something by way of accompaniment to the box, though 
 at the same time perfectly conscious that I have not, nor 
 am the least likely to have, anything fit to be sent. If 
 thanks and blessings were tangible things I might make a 
 
 1 Where her brother Walter lived in Linlithgowshire. (J. F. ) 
 
 2 See p. 316, n. 3. 
 
320 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 handsome package of them, as many have been bestowed 
 in return for the part (only) of your bounty. . . . 
 
 Good Mrs. Robertson 1 entreats you may be told how 
 she blesses you, and poor Peggy (no longer Vesuvia) 2 
 begs her ' grateful duty ' for the wee bit I gave to her for 
 the sake of 'Auld Lang Syne.' Sundry widows and 
 orphans have also benefited for I have now learned from 
 experience to be very wary in almsgiving, as I believe few 
 things are more hurtful than lavish and indiscriminate 
 charity. ... I did not see Lady A. Bruce when she was 
 here ; her time was so devoted to her cousin, Mrs. Richard 
 Trotter, who died the morning she left this in a very 
 sudden and striking manner, as you may probably have 
 heard ; if not I will relate it in my next. ... I have 
 Cousin Kate with me for a few days, as full of health and 
 hilarity as ever. 3 She is reading to me ' Miss Martineau 
 and her Master, 1 by Dr. Bushnan, which is really a good 
 and clever down set to one of the most wicked (and 
 fortunately weak) productions that has ever issued from 
 the Press. I hear much of the ' Life of Bickersteth,' but 
 have not yet been able to get it. ... 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Monday. 
 
 My dear Helen, A box arrived here on Saturday 
 evening, but too late for my feeble eyes to explore and 
 acknowledge its various contents. First came forth a rich 
 and beautiful shawl, which caused a prodigious sensation in 
 
 1 This person nursed Mrs. Graham the doctor, the minister, and, occasion- 
 during her last illness. (J. F.) ally a glazier: As Professor Saints- 
 
 2 I regret that I can throw no light bury remarked (in the Sketch 
 on the bearer of this romantic nick- December 5, 1894), 'There is all 
 name ! (J. F. ) the creatress of Miss Bell Black in 
 
 3 Daughter of her cousin, L. H. these last four words. ' This anecdote 
 Ferrier, Esq. , of Belsyde ; married appears in the very unappreciative 
 her cousin, R. B. Monro Binning, Preface to the Dent edition, and 
 Esq., in 1858. This is the cousin to where the word sister is erroneously 
 whom she said, in her humorous put instead of cousin. There are 
 way, ' I can't think, Kate, what it is many errors besides, either arising 
 that makes so many gentlemen come from the printer or the carelessness of 
 to see you? /never see a man except the editor. (J. F.) 
 
CH. v LETTERS TO MRS. TENNENT 331 
 
 the family ! At last, when Mowbray's emotions had 
 somewhat subsided, she declared with a sort of hysteric 
 that shawl was the greatest relief to her mind, for she had 
 long felt what it was to put the same black velvet cloak 
 upon me for five winters, but she knew it was needless to 
 speak ! Alas ! the cloak is much better than its mistress, 
 for indeed I am a poor shred and am little to be seen out 
 of doors at any time, but when I am I shall certainly ' row 
 me in your Plaidie.' ... I had a visit from Lady Augusta 
 Bruce yesterday. She is with your old friends the Miss 
 Erskines, of whom she reports favourably. It is not every 
 day I am able to admit visitors. My cough is at times so 
 severe, and continues so long, I am quite exhausted. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 38 Albany Street : l June 2, 1851. 
 
 I am now beginning in some way to regain my identity, 
 which for the last fortnight has been almost lost in that of 
 smiths, carpenters, chairmen, brokers, and all the innumer- 
 able tormentors one is subject to on a change of residence, 
 especially in ' mine own romantic town ' at term time, when 
 the whole inhabitants seem to be playing at * Change seats, 
 the King's coming. 5 The consequence is there is no 
 getting bipeds to do a hand's turn, and they are so over- 
 wrought, poor creatures, one's anger is turned into com- 
 passion on hearing their excuses. I cannot accuse myself 
 of ever having been a hoarder \ yet. do as one will, rubbish 
 accumulates in the course of a lifetime and in the undis- 
 turbed repose of seventeen years ! Then there had been 
 much to Grange here, so between packings and unpack- 
 ings, comings and goings, I think the erection and 
 arranging of the Crystal Palace must have been a bagatelle 
 compared to the toil and trouble of my flitting ! . . . 
 
 Wednesday, 4th. And now I must begin to pluck a 
 crow vvith you, my dear Helen. Why will you persist in 
 
 1 This was Miss Ferrier's last home* (J. F. ) 
 
322 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS en. v 
 
 throwing away money upon bonnie dies for me when 
 I have so long renounced the novelties and superfluities 
 of life, and desire nothing more than its comfortable 
 ' decencies ? ' N.B. I have a mind to speak to the Colonel 
 about you ! I forgot to tell you of the fate of your pretty 
 owl, which Ferooza McNeill l fell so violently in love with 
 that I could not resist offering it to her, at which her 
 mother was so incensed she scolded her for admiring any- 
 thing so much and would not allow her to accept it. 
 However, I sent it to her afterwards and told her I was 
 sure you would think it well bestowed, so it now reigns 
 paramount in her boudoir. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 1851. 
 
 ... I think James 2 is mistaken with regard to Burns's 
 verses. 3 I remember Blackwood was very pressing for 
 permission to publish them, which was refused, and I never 
 either saw or heard of their having appeared in print. I 
 shall try to procure a sight of those in Chambers's pos- 
 session, but I have no direct channel of communication at 
 present. ... I see by the papers great preparations are 
 making to enable the public to have a stare at the Royal- 
 ties. For my part I had to turn away all the Queens of 
 England from my door t'other evening. Miss S. came, 
 under convoy of H. W., to take tea with me, but I was so 
 exhausted by my cough and catarrh I was literally unable 
 to speak. 4 I have been suffering very much from it of late, 
 and the only quietus is morphia, which I am very averse 
 to take even by the doctor's peremptory orders. The 
 weather has been very cold and tempestuous, and there has 
 been snow in Perthshire, so her Majesty will meet with a 
 cold reception. I have seen nobody for some days past ; 
 
 1 Only child of Sir John and Lady to Miss Ferrier (Mrs. Graham) by 
 McNeill ; married Commander Dun- Burns, and are in all the editions of 
 can Stewart, R.N. (J. F.) Burns's poetry. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Her nephew, Colonel Graham. 4 We are told in Miss Strickland's 
 (J. F.) Life, by her sister, that she visited 
 
 3 The verses were those addressed Miss Walker in Edinburgh in 1851. 
 
CH. v MISS STRICKLAND 323 
 
 there are none of the natives in town, if there were I could 
 not hold intercourse with them by reason of this same 
 irritation on my lungs. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 1851. 
 
 ... I made wonderful exertions in the way of enter- 
 tainment and sat down no fewer than five one day to 
 dinner, and not only that, but H. Walker burst in upon me 
 in the evening, with Miss Strickland waiting at the door 
 wishing to be permitted (not to kiss my toe) but to shake 
 my hand. I was so taken by surprise and so unable to 
 remonstrate, that she was in the room and on the sopha 
 before I knew where I was ; but she didn't stay ten minutes 
 and was as agreeable as any stranger can be to me now, 
 for talking is a great fatigue, and there are times when I 
 really cannot speak without violent fits of coughing. My 
 voice at best is a mere squeak, and it is not pleasant to 
 exhibit one's infirmities to strangers. I hear Lady C. 
 Bury is in town with the Lyons, 1 but we are not likely to 
 meet, and I don't wish it. Lady Arthur has been very 
 kind in writing me all about Mrs. Ker, and I had a long 
 and beautiful letter from herself. 2 I can't think of keeping 
 Mrs. Fry altogether. She and Wilberforce I consider as 
 loans, and as such a boon to me who can't get (or rather 
 keep] books from libraries. ... I had a long visit yester- 
 day from Lady C., as soft and caressing as ever, so that I 
 begin to feel the old glamour coming over me. She 
 talked all the time and told me all about her affairs, her 
 happiness with the Lyons, &c., &c., &c. Do you know 
 aught of the translation of ' Plato ' in Bohn's cheap Library ? 
 Two volumes. I have a reason for wishing to read it, but 
 can't get it, a-hem ! no hint. . . . 
 
 1 Mrs. Lyon was Lady C.'s lotte, by her first marriage. Mrs. 
 daughter by her second marriage. K. 's first husband was Mr. Langford- 
 (J. F.) Brooke, of Mere Hall, Cheshire. 
 
 2 Lady Arthur Lennox and Mrs. (J. F.) 
 Ker were daughters of Lady Char- 
 
 Y2 
 
324 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH . v 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS MARY CAMPBELL 
 
 1851,' 
 
 Many thanks, dearest Mary, for your latest of unre- 
 mitting attentions. Our friend has done her part well and 
 it is wonderful how much she has made of what seemed a 
 completely worn out subject. It must have been very 
 gratifying to her to be able to plant a fresh sprig of laurel 
 on her loved poet's grave. I can say nothing good of 
 myself. My cough is very severe and will probably 
 continue so, at least as long as this weather lasts ; but I 
 have many comforts for which I am thankful, amongst 
 these I must reckon silence and darkness, which are my 
 best companions at present. Oh ! for faith to pray more 
 fervently for the blessings promised to the believer, but 
 you will help me, dear friend, and may God bless you ! 
 
 S. E. F. TO MISS MARY CAMPBELL * 
 
 My dear Mary, Although I have omitted to answer 
 Miss Kelty's 3 query I have kept in mind the purpose of 
 propounding it to my nephew, Professor F., when I should 
 see him. This I have been in daily expectation of doing 
 for the last ten days, but as he has not yet appeared I can 
 no longer delay apologising for my seeming neglect. I 
 still think he must be forthcoming some of these days, 
 when I shall not fail to speir him. I know nothing of the 
 matter myself nor am acquainted with the Messrs. B. 4 I 
 send you a little merry go round sort of a thing, which you 
 who knit in shade may find useful, at least I did in my 
 day. I do it in fear and trembling for a return, which I 
 do assure you would annoy me exceedingly, as I really 
 don't know where to bestow my goods. All my friends 
 
 1 This letter alludes to an article date of this letter. I have, therefore, 
 Lady Richardson wrote for Mrs. S. placed it with the only other one to 
 C. Hall's Magazine on Wordsworth's the same correspondent. 
 
 Home Life, 1851. Miss Campbell 3 An authoress. She wrote several 
 
 has been mentioned at p. 289 and else- books now quite forgotten. (J. F. ) 
 
 where. 4 Black wood. (J. F.) 
 
 2 There is nothing to show the 
 
CH. v 'UNCLE TOM'S CABIN' 325 
 
 have kindly helped me away with some bit of some sma' 
 trash or other (the sma'est of a') I think may be of some 
 sma' use to you. I am wearying to see you and hope we 
 may meet on Sunday, D.V. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. \TENNENT 
 
 October 8, 9, 1852. 
 
 ... I have nothing new to tell you of anything or 
 anybody here, and I find nothing readable after ' Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin.' I never was so stirred by any book, and 
 I'm glad to hear the whole world is the same. There is 
 to be a great emancipation bazaar at Glasgow, and I'm 
 going to work like a nigger for it ! Should the whole 
 proceeds purchase but one slave that is something how 
 much of weal or woe may be in that one ! . . . The 
 weather is very cold, and I have been screwing my courage 
 up to invest a small sum (as the MacDonald Buchanans 
 used to say) in the purchase of a winter gown, as Hightem 
 is truly in its sear and yellow leaf, and Mowbray's sighs 
 every time she fastens it are really piercing ; but as you 
 kindly propose traatin me to one I willingly submit to 
 your choice, requesting it may be a very plain, quiet 
 garment of any dark colour, except brown, as I think I 
 shall get the name (without the character) of the Brownie, 
 and wish I had anything to send you, but, except my 
 precious autograph, I have nothing, and I think shame to 
 send such a pitiful thing even at your bidding. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 . . . My cough, tho' less violent, is still troublesome, 
 and my lungs are so weak I am often unable to speak, so 
 a companion in these circumstances is very tantalising. 
 Of course I receive very few visitors, so know very little of 
 what is going on in this gay city. The D. of Argyll seems 
 
326 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 to be gaining golden opinions from all classes and sects, 
 and most deservedly, for he appears most sincere and 
 zealous in his endeavours to do good ; and in spite of his 
 phillippick [sic] against the Free Church, 1 he and the Duchess 
 of Sutherland have attended Mr. Guthrie regularly during 
 their stay and been hand in glove with him and several of 
 its ministers. If you read the Edinburgh papers I am sure 
 you must have admired his speeches at the meetings 
 where he presided. I have not seen the Memoir of Dr. 
 Chalmers, but I hear it is admirable. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 1853- 
 . . . Mrs. Ker has kindly placed her house in London 
 
 at her [Lady Charlotte's] disposal, but I believe she is no 
 more fit to manage a house in London than one of her own 
 pugs or parrakeets ! 2 The Lyons are going to Italy and 
 the Lennoxes to Malta, he having got the command of the 
 regiment, so I hope the change will be for the better. I am 
 reading the * Memoir of Mr. Allan,' a Quaker, which I find 
 very interesting and which gives most favourable impres- 
 sions of crowned heads and dignitaries, such as Emperor 
 Alexander, Duke of Kent, &c., &c., but I am having it read 
 rather cursorily and hurriedly, being the loan of a loan 
 via my kind Mary Campbell. I last year presented Lady 
 A. Bruce with a copy of ' Little Things/ 3 which she took 
 
 1 She joined the Free Church after uncle, Mr. James Wilson. She was 
 the disruption. (J. F.) the daughter of Andrew Wilson, who 
 
 2 Both Lady Juliana in Marriage, died young. Beside the two pleasant 
 and Lady Elizabeth Malcolm in healthy books of homely morality, 
 Destiny, must have been copies of Little Things and Things to be 
 Lady C. in her love for animals only. Thought of, both referred to in these 
 She never travelled without being letters, she wrote the truly delightful 
 accompanied by^her canine favourites, Chronicles of a Garden. In it the 
 and there was a footman who attended teaching of Ruskin is grafted on a 
 to them and made up their beds in stock of good sense and right feeling, 
 the carriage ! Lord Dunmore, it is and bears sweet and wholesome fruit, 
 said, once refused a visit from her In her love of Nature, above all in 
 because she would bring these four- her observant sympathy with animals, 
 footed travelling companions with Henrietta Wilson is a true kins- 
 her. (J. F.) woman of Christopher North, a sister 
 
 3 By Miss Henrietta Wilson, a in heart and mind to the master 
 niece of 'Christopher North.' She of Camp, and the chronicler of 
 always lived at Woodville with her Rab. 
 
CH. v BOOKS BY HENRIETTA WILSON 327 
 
 to Abergeldie this Autumn. The Princess Hohenlohe read 
 it, and was so much pleased with it, that she asked leave to 
 lend it to the Queen who I hope would order a copy for 
 herself on her return to London. As you were one of the 
 early patronesses, I think you will be glad to hear it has 
 attained such eminence ; indeed for a little nameless book 
 from an unknown author, its success has been great. . . . 
 I shall try and do my best in a signature, but I have 
 so long indulged in the lazy S. E. F. that I feel quite 
 nervous about signing my name proper. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Saturday, 1853. 
 
 My guests left me, to my great regret, on Thursday, but 
 Town is not the best place at this season, especially as the 
 east wind still prevails, to the great detriment of invalids 
 like me. Lady Stuart kindly drives me whenever she can 
 to be rid of its influence, and really makes a sacrifice in 
 shutting herself up in a darkened carriage with a coughy, 
 squealy companion when she might be basking in the sun 
 and hearing the birds sing ; but she is one of those who 
 consider others more than herself. Apropos, I hope you 
 have got ' Things to be Thought of/ which is about as admir- 
 able as its predecessor and bids fair to be as much appreciated, 
 five thousand copies having been sold the first week, some- 
 thing almost unprecedented in an anonymous and very 
 unattractive looking work. Miss Brewster's ' Work ' is of 
 a rather higher grade and does honour to womankind ; at 
 the same time it makes one feel very insignificant, and so is 
 humbling, which is one good effect. . . . The whirling of 
 tables &c. is practised with great success in several respec- 
 table families here one of the Judges is particularly suc- 
 cessful it seems. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 February n. 
 
 It was a rash promise I made to give you an account 
 of my life and conduct for the last two months, as I have 
 
328 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 really little or nothing to say of or for myself; great part of 
 my time has been passed in bed and great part of it in 
 coughing, diversified with a little reading and knitting. I 
 never go out, and see few people at home, so am of little 
 use to anybody ; yet here I remain, doubtless for some 
 good purpose may it be that of * redeeming the time ' so 
 much of which, alas ! has been misused and mis-spent. . . . 
 I congratulate you in having got an abstaining curate, as 
 I do think it is high time the clergy were using every 
 means by precept and example to counteract this most 
 hideous vice of intemperance which has so overspread the 
 land. There is, perhaps, not much to be done in the way of 
 reforming drunkards, but much may be done by preventing 
 the young from beginning the habit even in moderation. 
 
 1 7th Friday. It is high time I was bringing this long- 
 winded scrawl to an end. I have been poorly and only 
 able to write a wee bit now and then, and here is such a day 
 as dark as night, with wind, rain, snow, and piercing cold. 
 .... Thanks for your offer of handsome habiliment, but 
 your cloak is as good as new. My shawls would be quite 
 uplifted if they knew of the honour you put upon them 
 pray let me know when you will be ready to receive 
 another. ... I take Mr. Bushnan's * Hope Companion ' as 
 it is not costly, only three-halfpence a week, so I don't 
 think he will make a dash on the profits poor creature. . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Tuesday, October I. 
 
 I was glad to receive the ' Athenaeum ' this morning bear- 
 ing the Stanmore postmark, and nicely directed, as usual, in 
 the Colonel's hand. . . . The weather is now very cold and 
 broken, and I have been suffering from incessant irritation 
 of the lungs, and seldom get out, and indeed at times am 
 scarcely able to speak. I have not seen Lady McN. 
 lately, as she has a houseful of relations, who, though 
 readers, are not buyers of books indeed I believe few 
 people are nowadays as everybody (except myself) sub- 
 
CH. v FANNY MACKENZIE 329 
 
 scribes to clubs or libraries, and they are still deserted. 
 James W. 1 is not returned, and when last heard of was at 
 Dunrobin. ... I dare say you have no idea of the demands 
 upon the charitable in this ' romantic town ' romantic, alas ! 
 would there were less of that and more done for the sad 
 realities of poverty and destitution which surround us ! 
 Amongst the many uncomplaining sufferers who come 
 within my limited sphere, I fear poor old Mrs. Robertson 
 and her daughter 2 are of the number, though they would be 
 at the last extremity before they would beg or make their 
 wants known. Mowbray kindly goes to them when I can 
 spare her, and though it is little of gold or silver she has to 
 bestow, she does what she can to aid them in Christian 
 offices, no less precious in the sight of God !....! am 
 very anxious about this as I feel my life to be very frail and 
 precarious, and if I were gone poor Mrs. R. would soon be 
 forgotten ; there is nothing I envy in riches but the power 
 of relieving others. 
 
 Wednesday. I was interrupted yesterday by a visit 
 from Lady Arthur L., 3 but I was scarcely able to speak 
 to her, though glad to see her looking well and happy. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 ... I enclose a Prospectus of a work which is forth- 
 coming from the pen of my young friend Fanny Mackenzie ; 
 it has been highly approved of by competent judges, so I 
 hope it will be successful, as the profits are for a charitable 
 purpose. She is a very uncommon creature both for 
 intellect and accomplishments, and both devoted to the 
 glory of God and the good of her fellow creatures. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 I am not to be trusted with money ! I told you I had 
 put aside one of the sovereigns you sent me for Mrs. R. 4 
 
 1 Wilson. (J. F.) 3 Lennox, see p. 323. (J. F.) 
 
 2 Seep. 320. (J. F.) 4 Robertson. (J. F.) 
 
330 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS cm. T 
 
 [Robertson] till next rent day, but every time I open my 
 desk, and see it lying wasting its substance there, I think of 
 the enclosed touching appeal. I am sadly tempted to do 
 what I have no right to do to give it, or a part, to the poor 
 widow and her babes ; yet without your sanction I cannot 
 venture to put your name to the list of subscribers I have 
 commenced. I fear it will be a very small one, as I am not 
 able to see any but very intimate friends, and most of them 
 are as poor (or as well picked) as myself. Lady S. [Stuart] 
 though an Episcopalian, is always willing to impart to all 
 churches and sects, and I doubt not you are no less liberal. 
 You will see from the list of collectors, Walter [her brother] 
 is one of the number, as the case is known to him and he 
 takes a great interest in it I have been better and worse 
 since I wrote to you. My cough is at times very severe, 
 and my voice is at times scarcely audible, so I am obliged 
 to live quite d la hermit. . . . 
 
 This, and not a few other touches of a like kind, remind 
 one how little real truth there was in Miss Ferrier's remark 
 of humorous self-depreciation : ' The Lord loveth a cheer- 
 ful giver, but I can never give cheerfully.' There is not 
 much in common between the author of ' Marriage ' and 
 the author of * Don Juan,' but one is reminded of: 
 
 So for a good old gentlemanly vice 
 I think I must take up with avarice. 
 
 5. E. F. TO M#S. TENNENT 
 
 Friday. 
 
 I was amused to hear of your rencontre, and glad to have 
 tidings of my old friends, having not only lost sight, but 
 sound of them for many a day. I may expect to see 
 Annie ! stalk in some of these mornings, as I don't suppose 
 she will be overpressed to prolong her stay, either at Staple- 
 ton or Dunglass, 2 at least, not after she has displayed the 
 treasures of her wardrobe, and exhibited her last cap to an 
 
 ' Miss Walker. (J. K.) 
 
 Sir J. Hall's place near Dunbar. (J. F.) 
 
OL v LETTERS TO MRS. TENNENT 331 
 
 admiring circle. The weather is now so charming, I long 
 to hear your mother is enjoying it out of doors, and is in 
 training for the long journey before her. The aged Aunt is 
 now safely housed at Conheath having made out the j ourney 
 with ease in two days ; it is wonderful that she should have 
 remained entire upon exposure to the fresh air, after having 
 been immured so long in that horrid receptacle. 1 I have just 
 been paying ray daily visit to John ; he suffers less from 
 pain than he did, but has a sensation (if it may be so called) 
 of numbness in the limb, for which he is now undergoing 
 galvanism ; he is very patient and wonderfully cheerful, poor 
 fellow ! 2 It is as much as I can do to climb the long stair, 
 for I am now very breathless and feckless. 
 
 S. E. F. TO A/US. TENNENT 
 
 1*53- 
 
 . . . My good friend H. Walker has lately expended 
 five hundred pounds in erecting and establishing tem- 
 perance inns for the lower orders in town and country, and 
 her nephew, John Hope, is (for he is much abused by all 
 do-nothings) accused of spending at least two thousand per 
 annum on the temperance education, anti-popery, and other 
 good causes. ... I should be much obliged to you if you 
 could get for me a little book called * Gentle Influence,' 
 which I cannot procure here. Pray tell the Colonel to get 
 Sir John McNeill's pamphlet reprinted at the request of 
 the publisher, Murray,' The Progress and Present Position 
 of Russia in the East' 
 
 Poor Lady Leith is in fear lest her three sons should 
 all be sent to the wars. Mrs. Stuart Ker 3 was in town for 
 a few days, and came to see me, and though the very sound 
 of her voice is music in my ear, I could not admit her ; 
 there are days when I am unable to speak without pain 
 and difficulty, so you cannot wonder that I should decline 
 
 1 Old Miss Connell ; she lived in She was a most charming and 
 
 Charlotte Street, Edinburgh. (J. F.) fescinating person, like all the mem- 
 
 Her nephew, John Wilson bers of Lady Charlotte's femily. 
 
 Ferrier; he died 1845, (J- F -> (J- F -) 
 
332 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 all introductions, and confine myself entirely to relations 
 and o\& familiar friends. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 Monday, 23rd and 24th. 
 
 I have been long of welcoming your return home, but I 
 am a very languid correspondent now, and you must place 
 all omissions to the true account bad health and weak 
 eyes, I might say at once old age ; but while I receive such 
 frequent and well-penned little volumes from sister K. 
 [Kinloch] (so much my senior in years) I dare not lay my 
 claim to that apology. ... I trust James * has given up 
 all thoughts of relinquishing his situation, as, whatever 
 may be its inconveniences, he might be long of getting 
 anything as good. McLeod of McLeod, a great Highland 
 proprietor and a most excellent man, has been completely 
 overwhelmed by the debts of generations, that he is now 
 working hard in office for 2OO/. per annum, with a wife and 
 family to support ; and a brother of Sir R. Menzies, a very 
 fine young man, is clerk on 8o/. Sir J. McN. was very 
 desirous of getting a relative of his put on the constabulary 
 in Ireland, and with some difficulty got his name put to a 
 list of (I fear to say how many), and the prospect of its 
 coming to be his turn in the course of a few years. I 
 mention these facts that James may not act rashly in 
 this matter, and lose the substance in grasping at the 
 shadow. . . . 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 October 18. 
 
 . . . Writing becomes daily more painful and irksome 
 to me. I can still discern objects as clearly as ever, but I 
 cannot look steadily at anything for more than a very few 
 seconds without a great effort, so I often shrink from the 
 touch of a pen as though it were a torpedo. . . . Many 
 and various are the trials we are called upon to endure in 
 
 1 Her nephew, Colonel Graham. (J. F.) 
 
CH. v LETTERS TO MRS. TENNENT 333 
 
 our earthly pilgrimage, each and all ordained in heavenly 
 wisdom and love, and adapted to the various states and 
 conditions of those who are to be exercised thereby. But 
 for that consideration, and the many blessed assurances 
 given to us in Scripture, what a fearful mystery this world 
 would appear to those who have lived in it as long as I 
 have done ! At present all rny dearest and best friends 
 are in tribulation of one kind or other. 
 
 I had almost forgot to ask whether you desired a Miss 
 Helen Halkett to call upon me ? I was not able to see 
 her, and never heard you mention her. Is she a real 
 person? . . . 
 
 The following letters came to hand too late for insertion 
 in their proper place. They are all later than 1846. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 September 23. 
 
 My dear Helen, It was only two days ago I received 
 the enclosed, and as I guessed its contents could only be 
 a repetition of what I had communicated, I thought it 
 needless to forward it post haste, so have kept it till I could 
 acknowledge your own letter at the same time. I will 
 send the pictures by-and-bye, and I think that of the Holy 
 Family l will be in its right place in your possession, as a 
 pleasing remembrance of those who are gone and going, 
 for it was done by your mother and given by her to my 
 father, and when I succeeded to it with other things I 
 suggested to her to present it to one who I knew would 
 value it dearly for her sake, and highly she was gratified 
 by the token of regard. 2 
 
 I could not have believed that you had bought the 
 lithographs ; I shall either return or keep for a little the 
 one belonging to you, but I think it would be too much 
 
 1 Copied in Indian ink from Sir 1800.' (J. F.) 
 
 Joshua's picture. It is quite like an 2 Miss Barbara Ferrier, a distant 
 
 engraving and is most beautifully relation. (J. F.) 
 done, and is signed 'Jane Ferrier, 
 
334 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS en. v 
 
 to bestow upon Lady A. B., unless by so doing it might 
 serve James in any way ; if he comes this way I shall at 
 any rate put in some good words for him in case they 
 might help to Lord E's. 1 better appreciation of his merits. 
 
 I am going to call on the Miss Erskines to-morrow to 
 tell them all about the Canadians. To-day I have been to 
 the West-end to meet Mr. Walter and Helen at the railway 
 station en route to D-shire. Walter has been with me 
 for a day, but I don't think him very well. However, I 
 hope the change and variety may do him good. Agnes is 
 still at Toravon reddin' up, but leaves for St. Andrews in a 
 day or two. 
 
 Wednesday. ' Friar's Chicken ! ' in these times ! I 
 hope you are not in the way of pampering any of the 
 fraternity ? My cook is much too strict a Presbyterian 
 to have any hand in such a dish, and on referring to the 
 Scotch cookery-books, it seems to have been expunged 
 from their orthodox catalogue of dainties I am just going 
 to apply to Lady McNeill, whose principles I dare say are 
 sufficiently lax to admit of her being able to furnish a 
 most approved recipe, which I will send forthwith. 
 
 I called for the Misses E., but they were out. I must 
 now say adieu (a very blurred one), not forgetting my best 
 regards to the Colonel and thanks for the trouble he takes 
 in sending me the * Athenaeum ' so regularly. 
 
 Dear Helen, ever affectionately yours, 
 
 S. E, F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 January 12. 
 
 My dear Helen, As you said in your last you should 
 write to Agnes in a day or two, but as nearly a fortnight 
 has elapsed, I begin to fear you are again invalided, 
 whether at Stanmore or Torquay remains to be told. 
 
 My eyes have been better and worse according to the 
 weather, with which I dare say the Colonel also sympathizes 
 in a lesser degree. Mine were at ease during the thick 
 
 1 Lord Elgin, then Governor-General of Canada. (J. F. ) 
 
CH. v FAILING HEALTH 335 
 
 fogs, but are now bewailing the hard frost though indeed 
 one is ashamed to mention their own trifling ailments 
 when they think of the sufferings of thousands of their 
 fellow creatures. At such a time one can scarcely help 
 wishing for wealth, that they might enjoy its only true 
 luxury that of relieving the necessities of others but 
 God chooses His own channels, and so, instead of wishing 
 for more, we ought to pray for liberal hearts and open 
 hands to give freely of what we have. 
 
 1 3th. I make little way in this cold dry weather, which 
 brings me many visitors amongst others Katherine F., 
 who I am in hopes of having for an inmate, though she is 
 so recherchee it is difficult to excuse her even for a week or 
 two. I had a letter from Hamilton a few days ago, giving 
 a more favourable account of his dear wife, so I would fain 
 hope it may please God to preserve her precious life. Mrs. 
 Walter still coughs and continues delicate, all else and 
 others much as usual. 
 
 We were rejoiced to hear of James's l advancement 
 for such it must be and for the very gratifying manner in 
 which his past services have been acknowledged. All who 
 know him I am sure must rejoice in every increase of his 
 prosperity, which I trust will not stop here, but be merely 
 a step to something still better. I have had no opportunity 
 of returning the books you left, but will when I can. Have 
 you ever heard of two, which I think must be interesting, 
 though nobody here can tell me anything about them : 
 1st, 'The Influence of the Soul over the Body'; 2nd, 
 ' The Influence of the Body over the Soul.' I had almost 
 omitted to thank you for your leather pocket-book, which 
 was one of many New Year's gifts, and you will laugh at 
 some specimens of the various Bagatelles such as a sack 
 of meal, a skep of honey, turkeys, hares, pheasants, 
 illustrated Fairy Tales ! and sundry Goode Bookies. There 
 is no want of papers. Good kind Lady G. 2 sends the 
 ' Standard ' most regularly, arid the ' Athenaeum ' is a great 
 
 1 Colonel Graham. (J. F.) 2 Lady Graham of Netherby. (J. F.) 
 
336 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH. v 
 
 treat With best wishes and regards to the Colonel, 
 including yourself, 
 
 I remain affectionately yours, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 S. E. F. TO MRS. TENNENT 
 
 February 12-13. 
 
 My dear Helen, I must seem to you very remiss in 
 having been so long of thanking you for your kind letter 
 containing sundry particulars anent Penzance, for which 
 Lady McN. begs her best thanks as also for the Colonel's 
 and your gratifying invitation to Stanmore but that is all 
 she can say at present, not having yet obtained Sir John's 
 consent to the expedition, which to be sure is a very 
 material point ; if she does prevail, their stay, I should sup- 
 pose, would be short, as he cannot be long absent from his 
 official duties. 
 
 It was very stupid in me not to think of saving you the 
 trouble of applying for a letter to G. F. from his sister. 
 But I am liable to attacks of great stupidity at times. I 
 forwarded your note to her as she returned to Cairnhill 
 with Ham l and Mr. G., to both of whom she is a great com- 
 fort. Poor Margaret has been quite overcome and cannot 
 be of use to any one before the sad event 2 she had really 
 been very well for a length of time ; the baby is very 
 thriving and is under its grandmother's care. 
 
 Walter and Mrs. F. return many thanks for your kind 
 invitation to Helen, but she is still too delicate to be sent 
 from home ; she is a very fine amiable creature with an 
 excellent understanding, and quite unspoilt by the admira- 
 tion she used to excite, for alas ! her beauty has been much 
 marred by sickness ; but I trust in God she will be spared, 
 she is such a blessing in the family. Agnes is still at 
 Marchmount, and Wat is doing well in America. I suppose 
 it is as easy to get into office as into the Navy nowadays. 
 I heard of a most influential family who could not get a 
 son into the service by any means. I ought to have 
 
 1 Colonel Hamilton. (J. F.) 2 The death of Mrs. Gillon. (J. F.) 
 
CH. v POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 337 
 
 written to dear Jane long ago, but I am very languid and 
 lazy. Thanks for the offer of Hoffmeister, but I got a 
 present of it from the McKenzies when it was published 
 it is a book I think the Colonel will like. Beware of 
 ( Railway Speculation.' 
 
 I have books of yours waiting an opportunity. Mrs. 
 Christison had not heard of Mrs. B. Ker l lately. The Lyons 
 have taken Castle Menzies, in Perthshire, for the summer. 
 I was sorry I could not see Miss Aber 2 ; but there are days 
 when my parts of speech are so weak, I can scarcely arti- 
 culate, and at best I can only see one or two in the course 
 of the day. The weather has been dreadful in all possible 
 ways hurricanes of wind, torrents of rain, and storms o 
 
 snow ; to-day the sun is shining by way of I fear all 
 
 this is against the Colonel's rheumatism. With kind 
 regards to him, believe me, dear Helen, 
 
 Your Affectionate, 
 
 S. E. F. 
 
 Those who like to classify men and women in definite 
 groups, according to their formulated views on the great 
 subjects which divide the world, will find little in Miss 
 Ferrier's letters to gratify their curiosity. Special subjects, 
 such as temperance and the anti-slavery movement, appealed 
 strongly to her. But her judgments were too soundly rooted 
 in humour, in perception of and value for individual cha- 
 racter, to accept the bondage of system either in politics or 
 religion. She could attach herself alike to the Campbells, 
 with their inherited Whig principles, and to Scott with his 
 mediaeval sympathies and Tory convictions. One tradi- 
 tion, and one only, tells of something like definite party 
 feeling. Henry Brougham had, as a child, been one of 
 Susan Ferrier's schoolfellows and playmates. In 1834, 
 when Lord Brougham and Lord Grey were on a political 
 visit to Edinburgh, Miss Ferrier and her old schoolfellow 
 again met. The interview was described by one of Miss 
 Ferrier's nieces. ' By-the-bye, Susan had a meeting with 
 the Chancellor, who received her with the greatest cordiality 
 and alluded to their acquaintance in olden times ; but, 
 somehow or other, he failed to win her heart, for she talks 
 
 1 Mrs. Ker, her cousin. (J. F.) 2 Abercromby. (J. F.) 
 
 Z 
 
338 MISS FERRIER'S LATER YEARS CH . v 
 
 of him with positive dislike, though I think she certainly 
 used to stand up for him.' A tradition is extant in the 
 family that after this a bust of Brougham which used to 
 stand in Miss Ferrier's house was banished. There were 
 characteristics in ' The Learned Friend/ quite apart from 
 his political opinions, which might well alienate one who 
 was at once a severe satirist and an earnest moralist. 
 
 No one can read these letters and doubt that a deep 
 sense of religion, of the overwhelming importance of man's 
 spiritual nature, ran through Miss Ferrier's life. But it 
 is equally clear that neither the details of ecclesiastical 
 machinery nor the differences between religious forms and 
 creeds greatly interested her. That may have been in part 
 due to the conditions of her birth and training. The 
 Ferrier family were Presbyterians. Helen Coutts, like 
 many inhabitants of the east coast of Scotland, was an 
 Episcopalian. The eldest daughter was brought up in the 
 mother's church, the rest of the family in the father's. 
 Thus Susan Ferrier grew up in an atmosphere where the 
 possibility of honest divergence of opinion had to be fully 
 recognised. There was much, too, of the eighteenth century 
 in Miss Ferrier's view of life, and she would in all likelihood 
 have subscribed readily to the doctrine, ' he can't be wrong 
 whose life is in the right.' 
 
 Nor was it only from the tyranny of political and eccle- 
 siastical system that Miss Ferrier was free. We find neither 
 in the novels nor the letters any tendency to formulate 
 theories of life, or to pronounce cut and dried judgments 
 on classes of mankind. 
 
 In this, as in other matters, her weakness (if weakness 
 it were) and strength went hand in hand. Untrammelled 
 by theory, she could fasten with all the more certainty on 
 the shades of individual character and the concrete facts 
 of individual life. In that respect she may be said to stand 
 almost alone among distinguised novelists, perhaps quite 
 alone among those of her own sex. With Charlotte 
 Bronte, with George Eliot, with Mrs. Gaskell, with Mrs. 
 Oliphant, even in some measure with Miss Austen, one 
 can foretell the treatment of a person from the category 
 in life to which he belongs. Miss Ferrier is as free from 
 external prepossessions as Fielding or Thackeray. In that 
 respect, perhaps more than in any one other, the letter writer 
 reflects and illustrates the temper and methods of the 
 novelist. 
 
CH. v DEATH OF MTSS FERRIER 339 
 
 On November 2, 1854, Miss Ferrier died. Her remains 
 lie in the family burying place in St. Cuthbert's Church, 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 One can hardly take leave of her better than in the 
 words of one who may be said, in some sort, to have suc- 
 ceeded by inheritance to the friendship of Miss Ferrier's 
 life: 
 
 ' The wonderful vivacity she maintained in the midst of 
 darkness and pain for so many years, the humour, wit, and 
 honesty of her character, as well as the Christian submis- 
 sion with which she bore her great privation and general 
 discomfort when not suffering acute pain, made every one 
 who knew her desirous to alleviate the tediousness of her 
 days ; and I used to read a great deal to her at one time, 
 and I never left her darkened chamber without feeling that 
 I had gained something better than the book we might be 
 reading, from her quick perception of its faults and its 
 beauties, and her unmerciful remarks on all that was mean 
 or unworthy in conduct or expression. 1 ' 
 
 ' Unmerciful ' no doubt Miss Ferrier could be, but her 
 severity never spared herself. To her every phase of 
 petty egotism, manifest or disguised, vanity, self-pity, self- 
 depreciation, were wholly strangers. Sincerity and fear- 
 lessness are the keynotes of her life in them the humourist 
 that Miss Ferrier was and the moralist that she sought to 
 be, find their meeting-place. 
 
 1 Lady Richardson, quoted in the preface to the 1881 edition of 
 Marriage. 
 
 z 2 
 
INDEX 
 
 ABBOTSFORD 
 
 ABBOTSFORD, 239 
 Abercorn, Lord, 109 
 Abercrombie, Dr., 250 
 Abercromby, Lady, 181 ; Lord, 181, 
 
 27772. ; Miss, 227, 337 
 Aberdeen, Lady, 109 
 Adair, Miss, 81, 86, 113, 12072., 134; 
 
 Sir Robert, S6n. 
 Adams, Henry, 10872. 
 Alexander, Mr., 273 
 Alison, Dr., 292; Mr., 228 
 'Allan, Memoir of Mr.,' 326 
 Altyre, 137 
 Anderson, ' History of the House of 
 
 Hamilton,' extract from, 6n. 
 Andregane, M., 273 
 Anson, Sir George, 266 
 Anstruther, Sir Robert, 3272. 
 Apreece, Mrs., 244, 25772. 
 Ardencaple, 24, 69 
 Ardenconnel, 24 
 Argyll, Duchess of, 94, 104, 127, 163 ; 
 
 letters from, 183, 205, 206, 208 
 Aygyll, John, fourth Duke, 12, 27/2. 
 Argyll, George William, sixth Duke, 
 
 112, 206, 208 ; letter from, 136 
 Argyll, George Douglas, eighth Duke, 
 
 165*2., i8on., 325; his 'Essay,' 
 
 290, 291 
 
 Arnold, Dr., 287; Mrs., 287 
 Arnot, Miss, 264 
 Ashestiel, 236 
 Ashley, Mrs., 256 
 Ashnish, 26, 33 
 Athol, Duke of, 298 
 Atkinson, Joey, 42 
 Auchencruive, 211 
 Austen, Jane, 22, 57, 226, 338; 
 
 'Emma/ 128; compared with 
 
 Susan Ferrier, 231, 233 
 Ayr, 211 
 
 BRUCE 
 
 Aytoun, Wm. Edmondstone, 30472. ; 
 his ' Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers,' 
 306 
 
 BAILLIE, Mr., 185, 256 ; Miss Joanna, 
 letter from, on ' Destiny,' 227 
 
 Balfour, Lord, of Burleigh, 19372. 
 
 Barr, Nurse, 8 
 
 Barrett, Eaton Stannard, io6n. ; ' Sir 
 Weeks at Long's,' 134 
 
 Barrington, Lady, 8672., 12072. 
 
 Barskimming, 21 1 
 
 Bath, Lady, n, 14 
 
 Beatson, Captain, 33 
 
 Beenie, 150 ; her death, 202 
 
 Begg, Mr., 218 
 
 Bell, Sir Charles, 223 ; Lady, 223, 
 287 
 
 Bellevue, 24 
 
 Benbow, 53 
 
 ' Bentley,' Priory, 109 
 
 Bentley, Richard, letters from, 278, 
 312, 313, 315 
 
 Berry, Misses, 6491 
 
 Binning, R. B. Monro, 32072. 
 
 Blackwood, Mr. W., his terms for 
 ' Marriage,' 138, 142 ; letters from, 
 138, I39> HO, 141, I4 2 > 156, 158, 
 171, 172, 173, 174,^ 175, 209, 
 239; terms for 'Inheritance,' 171 ; 
 his opinion of it, 172-176; on 
 ' Destiny,' 209 
 
 Blickling Hall, 15772. 
 
 Brewster, Miss, ' Work,' 327 
 
 Bronte, Charlotte, 22, 226, 338 
 
 Brougham, Henry, 337 
 
 Brown, Colonel, 27772. 
 
 Brown, Dr. John, 1872. 
 
 Bruce, Lady Augusta, 298, 320, 321, 
 326 ; letter from, 306 
 
342 
 
 INDEX 
 
 BRUCE 
 
 Bruce, Gumming, 193; Mr., 193; 
 Mrs. 194, 292 ; Miss, 185, 193/2. 
 
 Brunton, Mrs., 'Discipline,' 125 
 
 Buchan, Earl of, 281;?. 
 
 Buchanan, Hector MacDonald, 159/2., 
 237; Mr. M., 24, 56; Mrs. M., 
 56 ; Miss M. , 240, 242 ; letter 
 from, on ' Destiny,' 220 ; death, 277 
 
 Buckinghamshire, Earl of, 157/2. 
 
 Burney, Miss, 145, 226 ; compared 
 with Susan Ferrier, 232 
 
 Burns, Mrs., I2n. ; Robert, 14, 57/2. 
 
 Burton, Mr. Hill, extract from his 
 ' Bookhunter,' 4 
 
 Bury, Lady Charlotte, 223, 243, 323 
 
 Bushnan, Dr., Miss Martineau and 
 her Master,' 320; Mr., 'Hope 
 Companion,' 328 ; Mrs., 262/2. ; 
 Miss, 262 
 
 Byron, Lord, 131, 256 
 
 CADELL, Mr. Robert, 208, 213, 224, 
 248 
 
 Cailly, Mr., 64 
 
 Cairnhill, 210/2. 
 
 Callander, Agnes, 267 ; Mrs., 281 ; 
 Miss Randall, ' Account of Sierra 
 Leone,' 302 
 
 Cameron, Colonel, 39; Mrs., 182 
 
 Camillia, 53 
 
 Campbell, Lady Charlotte, 15, 94, 
 loo, no, 112, 120, 129, 130, 132, 
 323 ; letter from, 15 ; opinion of 
 'Marriage,' 106, 112; her novel 
 ' Self- Indulgence,' 112; 'Conduct 
 is Fate,' 156 ; her book of prayers, 
 1 68 ; love for animals, 326/2. 
 
 Campbell, Duncan, 223 
 
 Campbell, Elizabeth, 98 
 
 Campbell, Lady Emma, 165/2., 290 
 
 Campbell, Lady Frederick, 103 ; 
 Lord, 41, 64, 103/2. 
 
 Campbell, Georgina, 193, 316, 319 
 
 Campbell, John, 192/2. 
 
 Campbell, John Archibald, 192/2. 
 
 Campbell, Lady John, 167, 180 
 
 Camptell, Lord John, 55, 61, 64, 
 Son., no, 123, 184/2. ; letters from, 
 in, 137 
 
 Campbell, Lord, 309 ; letter from, 
 310 
 
 Campbell, Mary, 137, 192/2., 214, 
 217, 270, 275, 276, 289, 292, 300, 
 302, 309, 319, 324; letter from, 
 192 
 
 Campbell, Miss, 131, 230/2. 
 
 COMBIE 
 
 Campbell, Sir John and Lady, of 
 
 Airds, 221 
 Campbell, Sir John, of Auchenbreck, 
 
 276 
 
 Campbell, Mrs., of Carrick, 33 
 Campbell of Combie, 77; Miss, 124 
 Campbell, Mr., of Islay, 297/2. 
 Campbell, Miss, of Monzie, 144, 179 
 Campbell, Mrs., of Shawfield, 25 ; 
 
 Miss, 128/2. 
 Campbell, Robert, of Skipness, 94 ; 
 
 Mrs., 98, no 
 
 Campbell, Mr., of Sonachan, 124/2. 
 Campbell, Mrs., of Stonefield, 32 
 Campbell, Mr., of Succoth, 5, 10, II 
 Carmichael, Sir T. Gibson, 67/2. 
 Carr, Sir John, 64 
 Cathlaw, 163, 212 
 Catmer, Miss, 291 
 Cayley, Mr., 64 
 Chalmer, George, 127; Miss, 39/2., 
 
 J 53 
 
 Chalmers, Dr., memoir of, 326 
 
 Chalmers, Sir George, 13, 264/2. 
 
 Chaux, Mile, de la, 94, 100, 102, 
 178 ; letter from, on ' Inheritance,' 
 184 
 
 Chiefswood, 242 
 
 Christison, Mrs. See Clavering, Miss 
 
 Churchill, General, 6 
 
 Clarkson, Dr., 248 
 
 Clavering, Lady Augusta, 24, 41/2., 
 99, 103/2., 113 
 
 Clavering, Mr. Charles, 111/2., 120; 
 Mrs., 86/2. 
 
 Clavering, Douglas, 132, 134 
 
 Clavering, Sir Henry, 95/2. 
 
 Clavering, Lady, in ; Mrs., 302 
 
 Clavering, Miss, 69, 120, 124, 127, 
 148/2., 185-201, 209, 288, 290, 
 302, 309, 337 ; her contribution to 
 'Marriage,' 48, 133; opinion of it, 
 103, 105-117 ; her novel, 82, 93 ; 
 on Miss Owenson, 109 ; on Lady 
 Harriet Leveson, no; on 'Self- 
 Indulgence,' 112; her marriage, 
 135/2.; second marriage, 286; 
 letters from, 103, 105, 107, ill, 
 
 H4, 133, 135 
 
 Clavering, Rawdon, 95, 113, 134 
 Clavering, Sir Thomas, 111/2. 
 Clerk, Miss, death, 161 
 Cockburn, Lord, his Memoirs, 16 ; 
 
 description of Scotch old ladies, 17 ; 
 
 of Miss Menie Trotter, 18 
 ' Ccelebs,' 65 
 Combie,' 77 ; Miss, 124 
 
INDEX 
 
 343 
 
 CONHEATH 
 
 Conheath, 30 
 
 Connell, Mr. Alex., 178 
 
 Conn,ell, James, 150, 161, 165, 179 
 
 Connell, Sir John, 169/2. 
 
 Connell, Mr., 14, 220, 260 
 
 Connell, Mrs., 30/2., 45, 217; letter 
 
 from, on 'Inheritance,' 179 
 Connell, Miss, 127, 169, 211, 331 
 Conry, Mrs., 41, 200 
 Coombank, 112 
 Corehouse, Lord, 266 
 Corstorphine, 275 
 Coutts, Helen, n, 264/2., 338 
 Craiglockhart, 276 
 Craig-y-Don, 266 
 Cranstoun, Miss, 187/2. 
 Crichton, Mrs., 262 
 Crowe, Mrs., 'Susan Hopley,' 282 
 Cumin, Mrs., 28 in. 
 Cuming, Mrs. , of Logic, 264 
 Gumming, Lady Gordon, 131, 137/2. ; 
 
 Sir William Gordon, 13272., 193/2. 
 Cuningham, Hon. Lord, letter from, 
 
 39 
 
 Cuninghame, Mrs., 270, 289 
 Cunningham, Mrs., 218 
 Curran, the Rt. Hon. John Philpot, 
 
 42/2., 63 ; letter from, 57 
 
 DALHOUSIE, Earl of, 12/2. 
 
 Dairy, 40 
 
 Damer, Mrs., 94, 103, 112 
 
 Davidson, Harry, 43 ; Miss, 34 
 
 Davy, Dr., 117/2., 299; Mrs., 287, 
 
 292, 299, 300; Sir Humphry, 
 
 244/2., 257/2.; Lady, 257 
 * Destiny,' 207 ; number of copies 
 
 sold, 224 
 
 Devonshire, Duke of, 1 10 
 Dewar, Mr. James, 120 
 Dickens, Mr., 287; Mrs. Charles, 
 
 286/2. 
 Drummond, Sir Francis Walker, 169; 
 
 Mr., 114; Miss, 40/2. 
 Dufferin, Lady, 302/2. 
 Dunbar, Miss, 95/2. 
 Dunderawe Castle, 76/2. 
 Dunesk, 281 
 Dunglass, 330 
 Dunlop, Mrs.', 223 
 Dunmore, Lord, 326/2. 
 
 EDGEWORTH, Miss, ' Fashionable 
 Tales,' 65 ; compared with Susan 
 Ferrier, 233 
 
 FERRIER 
 
 Edinburgh, literary society of, 1 6 
 Edmonstone, Sir Archibald, 163, 
 
 296/2. ; Miss Dalmeny, 37, 44, 163, 
 
 195, 217, 261 ; Lady, 296, 301 ; 
 
 Miss, 133, 263, 291/2. 
 Eldin, Lord, 154, 155/2., 161 
 Elgin, Lord, 301/2., 334 
 Eliot, George, 226, 338 
 Erskine, Hon. Harry, 281/2. ; Hon. 
 
 Mrs., letter from, 280; Jane, 250; 
 
 Lord, 281/2. ; Mrs., 266, 28 1/2., 287, 
 
 289, 309/2. ; Miss, 229/2. 
 Exeter, Lady, 40 
 
 FARQUHARSON, Miss. 119 
 
 Fellowes, Sir James, 146/2.; Lady, 146 
 
 Fergusson, Sir Adam, 202, 265 ; Miss 
 Margaret, 242, 255 
 
 Ferrers, Lord, 103/2. 
 
 Ferrier, Agnes, 263, 268, 276, 277 
 
 Ferrier, Anne, 12/2. 
 
 Ferrier, Archibald Campbell, 14, 35, 
 119; his death, 239/2. 
 
 Ferrier, Mrs. Archibald, 38 
 
 Ferrier, Miss Barbara, 333/2. 
 
 Ferrier, Cath., 274 
 
 Ferrier, Charlotte, 274, 276 
 
 Ferrier, Eleanor, 167, 276, 277 
 
 Ferrier, George, 277 
 
 Ferrier, Helen, 14 
 
 Ferrier, Major-General Islay, 9 
 
 Ferrier, Colonel Islay, 28/2. 
 
 Ferrier, Mr. James, 5, 159/2. ; his 
 birth, 6 ; affection for his nurse, 7 ; 
 treatment of his parents, 8 ; loses 
 the sight of one eye, 9 ; character, 
 9 ; placed under Mr. Campbell, 10 ; 
 marriage, II ; appointed Clerk of 
 Session, 12; death, 12, 207; his 
 wife, 13 ; family, 14 ; letters from, 
 23,25,26,27,30,31, 32;hisopinion 
 of ' Marriage,' 146 ; retires from 
 business, 199, 204/2. ; invitation 
 from Sir Walter Scott, 236 
 
 Ferrier, James, 14, 21 
 
 Ferrier, Colonel James, letters fiom 
 28, 29, 31 
 
 Ferrier, Professor James, 150, 
 
 Ferrier, Jane, 14 ; her marria 
 
 Ferrier, Janet, 14 
 
 Ferrier, John, 5/2., 14, 33, 113, 149, 
 195/2.; letters from, 170, 171, 213, 
 224 ; on the sale of ' Destiny,' 224 
 
 Ferrier, Mrs. John, 43, 125, 163, 190 
 258 ; illness, 259 ; death, 259/2 
 
 Ferrier, John Wilson, 277, 331 
 
344 
 
 INDEX 
 
 FERRIER 
 
 Ferrier, Kate, 320 
 
 Ferrier, Lorn, 14 
 
 Ferrier, Louis H., 41, 276*2, 32072; 
 letter from, 224 
 
 Ferrier, Mrs., her marriage, 13 
 
 Ferrier, Professor, 287 
 
 Ferrier, Miss Susan, her birth, 4 ; 
 father, 5-13 ; mother, 13; brothers 
 and sisters, 14; powers of mimicry, 
 15; appearance, 15; influence of 
 Edinburgh society on her writings, 
 1 6, 21 ; dread of publicity, 22 ; 
 letters to her sister, Mrs. Connell, 
 33, 35, 36, 37, 39, "8, 124, 125, 
 149, 151, 153, 155, 156, 158, 161, 
 162, 163, 164, 1 66, 1 68, 169, 179, 
 189, 198, 200, 202, 217, 218, 258, 
 260, 261, 263, 274, 276 ; to 
 Walter Ferrier, 40, 42, 44 ; her 
 scrap-book, 42 ; intimacy with the 
 Argylls, 47 ; friendship with Miss 
 Clavering, 48 ; letters to her, 
 49, 50, 51, 52, 54, 5 6 , 58, 62, 64, 
 66, 69, 71, 72, 73, 75, 77, 80, 81, 
 84, 89, 92, 95, 97, 98, 99, 100, 
 121, 127, 130 ; lines on a dog, 69 ; 
 on a glover, 70 ; the first sugges- 
 tion for 'Marriage,' 75, 102; on Miss 
 Clavering's novel, 82-85, 93 ; 
 scheme for a joint novel, 86 ; on 
 ' Guy Mannering ' and ' Waverley,' 
 125 ; the Festival, 126 ;' Emma,' 
 128 ; 'Tour through Britain,' I28|; 
 on a Catholic priest's exhortation to 
 matrimony, 129 ; terms for ' Mar- 
 riage,' 133, 138 ; its reception, 145, 
 146 ; letters to Miss Anne Walker, 
 142, 144 ; devotion to her father, 
 149 ; her opinion of ' Conduct is 
 Fate,' 157 ; on George IV.'s entry 
 into Edinburgh, 162 ; negotiations 
 for ' Inheritance,' 170 ; terms, 171, 
 177 J its reception, 176; success, 
 179 ; letters to her sister, Mrs. 
 Kinloch, 177, 203, 212, 241, 255, 
 259, 267, 269 ; opinions of her 
 sisters, 179-181 ; of others, 182- 
 187, 207 ; on her father's health, 
 198; his death, 207; 'Destiny,' 
 209 ; opinions on it, 220-225, 22 7- 
 229 ; success, 224 ; letter to her 
 niece, Anne Connell, 210 ; to Mr. 
 Blackwood, 213 ; state of her eyes, 
 217, 260 ; death of her brother-in- 
 law, General Graham, 219 ; illness 
 of her sister, 219 ; criticisms on 
 her novels, 230 ; compared with 
 
 GARTSHORE 
 
 Jane Austen, 231, 233 ; with Miss 
 Burney, 232 ; with Miss Edge- 
 worth, 233 ; tragic element, 234 ; 
 visits Sir Walter Scott, 238, 239, 
 241, 252 ; perception of his charac- 
 ter, 240, 245 ; letter to Lady 
 Charlotte Bury, 243 ; to Mrs. 
 Lockhart, 251 ; to Mrs. Tennent, 
 264, 271, 282, 290, 291, 296, 297, 
 298, 300, 301, 302, 303, 305, 307, 
 308, 309, 3i6, 317, 318, 319, 320, 
 321, 322, 323, 325, 326, 327, 328, 
 
 329, 330, 33i, 332, 333, 334, 336 ; 
 to her nephew, James Ferrier, 226 ; 
 to Miss Fletcher, 270, 286, 288, 289, 
 292; on the cholera, 259; hersister's 
 illness, 267 ; Mr. Kinloch's death, 
 269 ; the fancy ball at Edinburgh, 
 277 ; new edition of her works, 
 278 ; her preface to * Inheritance,' 
 279 ; the ' Laird o' Cockpen,' 285 ; 
 on Dr. Arnold, -287; mesmerism, 
 289, 292 ; death of her sister, Mrs. 
 Graham, 293 ; letters to Lady 
 Richardson, 299, 300 ; to R. Bent- 
 ley, 313 ; to Miss Mary Campbell, 
 324 ; death, 339 
 
 Ferrier, Miss Wallace, 162, 264 
 
 Ferrier, Walter, 9, 14, 119, 123, 125, 
 1 60, 176, 190, 258, 260; Mrs., 260 
 
 Ferrier, William, 5 
 
 Ferrier, William Hamilton, 9, 14, 25, 
 
 35 
 
 Fettes, Sir William, iSn. 
 
 Fitzball, Mr., 192 
 
 Flahault, Count, iSn. 
 
 Fletcher, Margaret, 117 
 
 Fletcher, Miles, 10972., 11772., 135, 
 209, 271, 28672. 
 
 Fletcher, Miss, 286, 334^., 339. 
 
 Fletcher, Mrs., 275, 287, 288, 299, 
 300; letters from, 221 ; on 'Des 
 tiny,' 221 ; extract from her 'Auto- 
 biography,' 10872. 
 
 Fletcher, Mr. Miles. See Clavering, 
 Miss 
 
 Forbes, Mrs., 178, 225, 268 
 
 Franklin, Sir J., 30072. 
 
 Fyne, Loch, 7672. 
 
 GALLAIS, John de, 11172. 
 
 Garden, Dr., 3572. ; Mr. Francis, 
 
 3572. ; Miss, 14, 3572. 
 Garscube, 56 
 Gartshore, Mrs. Murray, 'Cleveland,' 
 
 297 
 
INDEX 
 
 345 
 
 GASKELL 
 
 Gaskell, Mrs., 338 
 
 George IV., 24/2. ; his entry into 
 Edinburgh, 162; 'Diary illustra- 
 tive of the Times of,' extract from, 
 136/2., 243/2. 
 
 Gillespie, Dr., 277/2. ; Miss, 277 
 
 Gillies, Miss, 264 
 
 Gillon, Mrs., death, 304, 33672. 
 
 Glassel Miss, 180/2. 
 
 Glen, Dr., izn. 
 
 Glenfern, 76 
 
 Glenshira, 27 
 
 Gordon, Duchess of, 73, no; Mrs., 
 268 ; Miss, 14 
 
 Gore, Mrs., letters from, on adapting 
 ' Inheritance ' for the stage, 188, 191 
 
 Gort, Viscount, 163/2., 2747*. 
 
 Gourdon, 13 
 
 Graham, Miss Clementina Stirling, 
 1 8/2. 
 
 Graham, General, 14, 34/2., 163, 168, 
 218/2., 28211. ; death, 219 
 
 Graham, Helen, 151, 178 
 
 Graham, Colonel James, 322, 332, 335 
 
 Graham, Colonel J. J., 15 
 
 Graham, Sir James, 218, 297 ; Lady 
 218, 297, 335 
 
 Graham, Mrs., 14, 34, 41, 102, 142, 
 143, 162, 185, 200, 225, 254, 261/2., 
 282/2., 288, 303/2. , 320/2. ; letter 
 from, on ' Inheritance,' 181 ; ill- 
 ness, 219 ; death of her husband, 
 219 ; death, 293/2. 
 
 Graham, Miss, 254 
 
 Graham, Samuel, 298 
 
 Grant, Sir Ludovic, 186/2. 
 
 Grant, Mrs., of Laggan, 180/2. ; cor- 
 respondence of, 1 6, 194 ; on Miss 
 Ferrier's novels, 207 
 
 Grant, Penuel, 186/2. 
 
 Granton, 291 
 
 Granville, Lady, now. 
 
 Greenock, 24 
 
 Greig, Miss, 163 
 
 Grey, Hon. Edward, 86/2. ; Mrs. 
 Hamilton, 182/2. ; Lord, 337 
 
 Grierson, Grace, 275 ; Sir Robert, 
 262/2. 
 
 Guiccioli, Madame, 257 
 
 Guthrie, Mr., 326 
 
 Gwydyr, Lord, 182 
 
 HALKETT, Miss Helen, 333 
 
 Hall, Captain Basil, 215/2. ; his work 
 
 on South America, 187 ; letters 
 
 from, 187, 216 
 
 JOHNSTONE 
 
 Hall, Lady, 144; LadyH., 215 ; Sir 
 
 James, 165, 187/2., 330/2. ; Mrs. S. 
 
 C., 324;?. 
 
 Hallyday, Mrs., 27, 203, 261 
 Hamilton, Colonel, 264, 336 
 Hamilton, Dr., 41 ; his life of James 
 
 Wilson, 194/2., 195 
 Hamilton, Duke of, 24/2. 
 Hamilton, Colonel Ferrier, 163, 
 
 21 1/2., 212/2., 304/2. 
 Hamilton, Sir James, ion. ; Lady, 
 
 109 ; Lady Maria, 109 
 Hamilton, Major, 9 
 Hamilton, Mrs. , ' Cottagers of Glen- 
 
 burnie,' 55/2. ; her ' Memoirs,' 143 
 Hamilton, Captain Thomas, ion. 
 Hamilton, Captain Walter Sandi- 
 
 lands, 6, 12/2. 
 
 Hamilton, Sir William, 287 
 Handyside, Dr., 281 
 Harvey, Sir George, 303, 308 ; Mr., 
 
 294, 295 
 
 Haswel, Mrs., 32 
 Hay, Dr., 262/2. ; Mrs., 202, 282/2. ; 
 
 Mrs. John, 262 
 Hilderstoun, 32 
 Hogarth, Mrs., 286/2. 
 Hohenlohe, Princess, 327 
 Holland, Dr., 256 ; Lady, 257/2. 
 Hook, Theodore, 207 
 Hope, John, 331 
 Horn, Betty, 124 
 Huber, Madame, 184 
 Hume, Dr., 237 
 Huntley Burn, 242 
 
 ' INHERITANCE,' 170 ; terms, 171, 
 177 ; translated into French, 178/2. ; 
 preface, 279 
 
 Inveraray, 25/2. 
 
 JAMES, Professor, 304, 319 ; his pam- 
 phlet, ' Observations on Church and 
 State,' 290 
 
 Jameson, Professor, 195 
 
 Jardine, Miss, 298 
 
 Jeffrey, Lord, 18/2. ; his * Edinburgh 
 Essays,' 230, 288 ; illness, 305 
 
 Jeffrey, Mr., 120; Mrs., 305 
 
 Jenkinson, Sir C., 128 
 
 Jersey, Earl of, 106/2 
 
 Johnson, Dr., 25/2. ; Mr. Brimley, 
 236/2. 
 
 Johnstone, Admiral, 179/2. ; Miss, 
 
 l82, 212/2. 
 
346 
 
 INDEX 
 
 KAIR 
 
 KAIR, 149 
 
 Keith, Sir Alexander, 79, 194/2. ; 
 
 Isabella, 19472. 
 Kelty, Miss Mary Anne, 181/2., 324 ; 
 
 Trials,' 180 
 Ker, Mrs., 323, 326, 337 ; Mrs. 
 
 Stuart, 331 
 Kinloch, A., 35 
 Kinloch, Charles, 149 
 Kinloch, Frederick, 242, 270, 275 
 Kinloch, George, 34/2., 36, 14972. 
 Kinloch, Henry, 149, 154 
 Kinloch, James, 14, 33, 3472. ; letter 
 
 from, 314 
 
 Kinloch, Louisa, 223, 268 
 Kinloch, Mr., 180, 309 ; death, 269 
 Kinloch, Mrs., 25/2., 28, 39, 102, in, 
 
 127, 149, 153, 200, 277, 293 ; letters 
 
 from, 1 80, 223, 227/2. ; illness, 267 
 Kinloch, Miss, 34/2., 39 
 Kinnedder, Lord, 250/2. 
 Kirklands, 5 
 Kirkton, cholera at, 259 
 Knatchbull, Mr., 169 
 
 ' LACUNA Strivelinense ; or, a Collec- 
 tion of Heads,' 14 
 
 Lamont, Miss, 53, 68, 79, 193 
 
 Landon, Miss Betty, 226/2. 
 
 Lanfin, 211 
 
 Langford-Brooke, Mr., 323/2. 
 
 Laporte, M., 189 
 
 Latham, Miss, 63 
 
 Lauderdale, Lord, II, 13 
 
 Leigh, Mrs., 256 
 
 Leith, Sir Alexander, 256/2. ; George, 
 167/2. ; Lady, 331 
 
 Lennox, Lady Arthur, 323, 329 ; 
 Mr., 276 
 
 Leslie, Hon. General, 281/2. 
 
 Lester, Miss Mary, 302 ; ' Guardian 
 Angels,' 303 
 
 Lester, Mrs., 264 
 
 Leven, Earl of, 281/2. 
 
 Leveson, Lady Harriet, no 
 
 Leveson-Gower, Lord Granville, 1 10 
 
 Lewis, M. G., on Miss Ferrier's 
 novel writing, 136 
 
 Leyden, 47 
 
 Lilford, Lady, letter from, 230 
 
 Lindsay, Lady Ann, 23 
 
 Littlejohn, Hugh, 240, 246 
 
 Loch Coat, 32 
 
 Lockhart, J. G., 240, 246, 251, 254; 
 'Peter's Letters,' 16, 194; ' Ma- 
 thew Wald,' 182 ; on Miss Ferrier, 
 252 
 
 MENAI 
 
 Lockhart, Mrs., 240, 242; letter 
 
 from, 246 
 Lyon, Mrs., 323 
 
 MACDONALD, Colonel, 43 
 Macdougal, Sir H., 169 
 Mackenzie, Colin, 159/2., 238 
 Mackenzie, Fanny, 329 
 Mackenzie, Hannah, 117, 128, 134, 
 
 144, 145 ; letter from, on ' In- 
 heritance,' 1 86 
 Mackenzie, Helen, 300 
 Mackenzie, Henry, 47, 61/2., 128, 
 
 186/2., 210 
 
 Mackenzie, Holt, 268 
 Mackenzie, Hope, 287, 292 ; letters 
 
 from, 268, 293, 304 
 Mackenzie, James, 293/2. 
 Mackenzie, Lady, 298 ; Lord, 294/2. 
 Mackenzie, Mr., 137, 141, 179; Mrs., 
 
 228, 305 
 Mackenzie, Miss, 178, 201, 228 ; 
 
 letter from, on 'Destiny,' 214 
 Mackenzie, Mr. Sutherland, 268 
 Mackintosh, Sir James, letter from, 
 
 on ' Destiny,' 228 
 Maclagan, Sir Douglas, 15, 16/2. ; 
 
 Dr., 15, 316 
 Macleod, Sir John, 163 
 Maginn, 23 
 Maitland, Lauderdale, 277/2. ; Hon. 
 
 Mrs., n, 13 
 
 Makdougall, Laird of, 40 
 Marquis, Miss Charlotte, 41 
 ' Marriage,' first suggestion for, 75 ; 
 
 terms, 133, 138 
 Maule, Mr. Fox, 309 
 Maxwell, General, 53 
 Maxwell, Sir John, 301/2. ; Lady 
 
 Matilda, 299, 301 ; Miss, 262 
 McKenzie, Colonel, 237 
 McLeod of McLeod, 332 
 McNeill, Ferooza, 283, 322 
 McNeill, Sir John, 165/2., 282/2., 
 
 290/2., 322/2., 332 ; knighted, 283; 
 
 his pamphlet, ' The Progress and 
 
 Present Position of Russia in the 
 
 East,' 331 
 McNeill, Lady, 197/2., 282/2., 283/2., 
 
 291, 305, 307, 3!7> 3i9> 3 22 - 
 
 334> 336 ; her fancy ball, 276, 
 
 277 ; letter from, 282 
 Medwyn, Lord, 178/2., 294, 305 
 Melrose Abbey, 238 
 Melville, Mrs., 302 ; Misses, 221 
 Menai Strait, 266 
 
INDEX 
 
 347 
 
 MENZIES 
 
 Menzies, James, 33 ; Sir R., 332 
 Millar, Andrew, 44, 46; Marianne, 
 
 195 ; Mrs., 44/2. ; Miss Robina, 
 
 162 
 
 Milton, extract from, 222 
 Moir, Mr. George, 230 
 Moira, Earl of, 15, 21972, 
 Moneypenny, Miss, 145, 154, 287, 289 
 Monro, Professor, 178, 291*2. ; Mrs., 
 
 178 ; Miss, 41/2. 
 Moore, Captain, 32 
 Morgan, Lady, 42/2., 10972., 273 
 Morrison, Miss, 119 
 Mowbray, 304, 305, 308, 318, 321, 
 
 3 2 5, 329 
 
 Mower, Dr., 'White Cottage,' 134 
 Munro, Professor, 302/2. ; Sir 
 
 Thomas, 281/2. 
 Mure, Annie, 104, 1 20 
 Mure, Baron, 24/2. 
 Mure, Bessie, 24, 40, 52, 55, 65, 70, 
 
 8l, 83, 102, 105, 107, 109, 1 1272., 
 
 128, 132 ; letters from, 98*2., 137 
 Mure, Colonel, 24/2. 
 Mure, Elizabeth, 210/2. 
 Murray, the Hon. Lord, letter from, 
 
 on ' Inheritance,' 182 
 Murray, Mr., 170, 171 
 'Mystifications,' extract from, 18-21 
 
 NAIRN, Lady, 23 ; her ' Farewell 
 to Edinburgh,' 17; 'Laird o' 
 Cockpen,' 285 ; ' Lays from 
 Strathearn,' 291 
 
 Napier, Hon. Anne, 67/2. 
 
 Napier, Lord, 60, 115 
 
 Napoleon, 30 
 
 Netherplace, 211 
 
 Newland Burn, 154 
 
 Nicholson, Colonel, 31 
 
 North, Christopher, 14, 132/2., 194, 
 230, 326 
 
 Northumberland, Duke of, 298 
 
 Norton, Mrs., 302/2. 
 
 OLIPHANT, Mrs., 338 ; her ' History 
 of a Publishing Firm,' 23, 138, 
 208/2. 
 
 Owenson, Miss, 109 
 
 Oxford, Bishop of, 292 
 
 PAGET, Lady Caroline, 107/2. 
 Paget, Lady Georgina, 206 
 Paget, Lord, 10611. 
 
 SCOTT 
 
 Paris, 28, 30 
 
 Patrick, Miss, 262/2. 
 
 Peacock, ' Gryll Grange,' 311 
 
 Pellico, Silvio, 273 
 
 Penn, Granville, letter from, on 
 ' Destiny,' 229 
 
 Pepoli, Count, 273 ; Countess, letter 
 from, 272 
 
 Pigot, Captain, 256 
 
 Piozzi, Mrs., her opinion of 'Marri- 
 age,' 146 
 
 Pitkaithly, 127/2. 
 
 Pitmillie, Lord, 154/2. 
 
 Pollock, Mr., ' The Course of Time,' 
 209 
 
 Port Glasgow, 24 
 
 ' Portuguese Nun,' 56 
 
 Pulteney, Sir James, II, 14 
 
 Purgstall, Countess, 187/2., 266 
 
 QUEBEC, 224 
 
 RAE, Mr., 161 
 Raeburn, Sir H., 198/2. 
 | Ramsay, Allan, 264/2. 
 Renfrewshire, 5 
 
 Richardson, Sir John, 286/2., 300/2. 
 Richardson, Mrs. See Fletcher, Mis 
 Richardson, Mrs. (widow of Danie 
 
 Terry), 146 
 
 i Richmond, Duchess of, 107/2. 
 Riddell, Georgy, 274 
 Riddell, Jane, 274 
 Riddel], Mrs., 151, 152, 163 
 Riddell, Thomas, 152/2. 
 Robertson, Dr. Argyll, 184/2. ;Mrs., 
 
 320, 329 
 
 Rollo, Lady, 163 
 Ross, 56 
 
 Ross, Mr., 152; Mr. Charles, 154 
 Roxburgh, Dowager Duchess of, 
 
 258/2. 
 
 Russell, Lord John, 309 
 Rutherfurd, Andrew, 223 
 Rutherfurd, Lord, 181/2. ; Miss, 181 
 
 SABLE OF ANJOU, Count de la, 111/2. 
 
 Saintsbury, Professor, 320/2. 
 
 Scott, Anne, 190, 221, 240, 241 ; 
 letters from, 248, 249, 251, 253, 
 255 ; on her father's illness, 249 
 
 Scott, Mrs., 237, 239; 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 5, 47, 57/2., 144, 
 152/2., 159/2., 179, 1 86, 208, 220/2., 
 227, 245, 282/2. ; extracts from his 
 
348 
 
 INDEX 
 
 SCOTT 
 
 ' Journal,' 13, 23, 243,^253; 'Guy 
 Mannering,' 125 ; ' Waverley,' 125 ; 
 Old Mortality,' 132; Peveril,' 
 165 ; his opinion of ' Marriage,' 
 146 ; of 'Inheritance,' 175 ; letters 
 from, 236, 238, 239, 246, 247 ; 
 illness, 249, 252 ; death, 255 
 
 Seaforth, Lady, 215 
 
 Selkirk, Earl of, 215/2. 
 
 Seringapatam, siege of, 28/2., 30/2. 
 
 Seton, Mrs., 161 
 
 Sharpe, ' Letters to and from C. 
 Kirkpatrick,' extracts from, 24/2., 
 108/2., 1 12/2., 14472. 
 
 Shawfield, 25, 53 
 
 Sheridan, Mrs., 1 302 
 
 Simeon, M., his Tour through 
 Britain,' 128 
 
 Sloebiggin, 258 
 
 Smith, Mrs., 281 
 
 Somerset, Duchess of, 302*2. 
 
 Somervell, Miss, 211 
 
 Sorn Castle, 211 
 
 Spottiswoode, Mr., 33 
 
 Stael, Madame de, 57/2. 
 
 Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn, 30672. 
 
 Stanmore, 274 
 
 Stenhouse, Mrs., 305 
 
 Stewart, Commander Duncan, 322/2. 
 
 Stewart, Hope, 308 
 
 Stewart, Sir M., 114 
 
 Stewart, Nabob, 34 
 
 Stirling Castle, 127, 212 
 
 Stirling, Sir Gilbert, 193 
 
 Stratford de Redcliffe, Lord, 26272. 
 
 Strickland, Miss, 322, 323 
 
 Stuart Hall, 261 
 
 Stuart, Sir James, 291/2., 302/2. ; 
 Lady, 291, 302, 327, 330; Lady 
 Louisa, 23 
 
 Suffield, Lady, 157 
 
 Sundridge, Baron, 105/2. 
 
 Sutherland, Duchess of, 326 
 
 Sweethope, 275 
 
 Swift, Dean, 131 
 
 Sym, Mr. Robert, 197/2. 
 
 TAIT, Mr., of Kirkliston, 214 
 
 Tait, Mr., 189 
 
 Talleyrand, M., 28 
 
 Taylor, Archibald, 222 
 
 Taymouth, 69 
 
 Tennent, Colonel, 301/2.; Mrs., 
 letters to, 264, 271, 282, 290, 291, 
 296, 297, 298, 300, 301, 302, 303, 
 305, 307> 308, 309, 316, 317, 318, 
 
 WILSON 
 319, 320, 321, 322, 323, 325, 326, 
 
 327, 328, 329, 330, 331, 332, 333 
 
 334, 336 
 
 Terry, Daniel, 146 
 Thompson, G., 41 
 Thomson, Mr. George, letter from, 
 
 286 
 Thorburn, Robert, 271, 303 ; his 
 
 portrait of Miss Ferrier, 265 ; 
 
 letters from, 265, 271, 294, 295, 
 
 296 
 
 Thorburn, Mrs., 296 
 Thriepland, Mrs., 98/2 
 Tiry, Island of, 30 
 Toravon, 263 
 Trot, Mrs., 26 
 Trotter, Miss Menie, 18-2 1 ; Miss, 
 
 270/2. ; Mrs. Richard, death, 320 
 Tulloch, Mrs., 25 
 Tytler, Colonel, 181 
 
 UXBRIDGE, Lady, 131/2., 206 
 
 VEREKER, Hon. Georgina, 274/2. 
 Vesy, Mr., 24 
 
 WADDON, 185 
 
 Wales, Princess of, no 
 
 Walker, A., 154 
 
 Walker, Anne, 150, 167, 169, 200, 
 
 210, 217, 299, 330; 'Common 
 
 Events,' 169 
 
 Walker, Mr. Francis, 40/2. 
 Walker, H., 299, 322, 323, 331 
 Walker, James, 126, 154, 159/2., 201 
 Walker, Julia, 165 
 Wallace, Mrs. Ferrier, 152, 199, 210 
 Wallace, Sir Hugh, 210/2. 
 Wallace, Miss, 9/2. 
 Walpole, Horace, 103/2. 
 Watts, Alaric, letter from, 204 
 Wellesley, General, 31 
 Wellington, Duchess of, death, 250 
 Welsh, Mr. David, 258 
 Whitworth, Lord, 28 
 Wilkie, 242 
 
 Williams, H. W., 162/2. 
 Williams, Mr., 266 
 Wilson, Andrew, 326/2. 
 Wilson, Elizabeth, 165 
 Wilson, Henrietta, 'Little Things,' 
 
 326; 'Chronicles of a Garden,' 
 
 326/2. ; ' Things to be Thought of,' 
 
 327 
 
INDEX 
 
 349 
 
 WILSON 
 
 Wilson, James, 194, 326;*., 329; 
 
 letters from, 195, 197, 285 
 Wilson, Mrs. James, 197, 199 
 Wilson, Miss Jane, 197 
 Wilson, Janet, 43 
 Wilson, John, 131, 132 
 Wilson, Margaret, 14 
 Wilson, Mrs., 197/2. 
 
 WYNNE 
 
 Wilson, Professor, 125*2., 283, 304, 
 306, 316; 'Essays on Burns,' 
 282 
 
 Winterton, Earl of, 120 
 
 Woodhall, 25 
 
 Woodville, 195;?. 
 
 Worm, Madam, 43 
 
 Wynne, Miss, 98 
 
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