Trouble and Travel

In a July 3^rd letter to John Richardson, Sir Walter discusses a subject of personal difficulty, involving his brother Thomas’ situation.  He also announces his intention to follow in Samuel Johnson and James Boswell’s footsteps, in traveling the Western Highlands.  The letter is published in Lockhart’s “Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott”.

“Edinburgh, 3d July, 1810

“My dear Richardson,

“I ought before now to have written you my particular thanks for your kind attention to the interest which I came so strangely and unexpectedly to have in the passing of the Judicature Bill. The only purpose which I suppose Lord Lauderdale had in view was to state charges which could neither be understood nor refuted, and to give me a little pain by dragging my brother’s misfortunes into public notice. If the last was his aim, I am happy to say it has most absolutely miscarried, for I have too much contempt for the motive which dictated his Lordship’s eloquence to feel much for its thunders. My brother loses by the bill from L.150 to L.200, which no power short of an act of Parliament could have taken from him, and far from having a view to the compensation, he is a considerable loser by its being substituted for the actual receipts of his office. I assure you I am very sensible of your kind and friendly activity and zeal in my brother’s behalf…I propose, on the 12th, setting forth for the West Highlands, with the desperate purpose of investigating the caves of Staffa, Egg, and Skye. There was a time when this was a heroic undertaking, and when the return of Samuel Johnson from achieving it was hailed by the Edinburgh literati with ‘per varios casus,’ and other scraps of classical gratulation equally new and elegant. But the harvest of glory has been entirely reaped by the early discoverers; and in an age when every London citizen makes Lochlomond his wash-pot, and throws his shoe over Ben-Nevis, a man may endure every hardship and expose himself to every danger of the Highland seas, from sea-sickness to the jaws of the great sea-snake, without gaining a single leaf of laurel for his pains…’

The Adventurer

‘He now relieved the drudgery of his Dictionary, and the melancholy

of his grief, by taking an active part in the composition of The

Adventurer, in which he began to write April 10 [1753].’

The snippet above comes from James Boswell’s “Life of Johnson”.   To give a flavor of Johnson’s “The Adventurer”, here is a portion of Adventurer #137: 

‘Pythagoras

What have I been doing?

As man is a being very sparingly furnished with the power of prescience, he can provide for the future only by considering the past; and as futurity is all in which he has any real interest, he ought very diligently to use the only means by which he can be enabled to enjoy it, and frequently to revolve the experiments which he has hitherto made upon life, that he may gain wisdom from his mistakes, and caution from his miscarriages.

Though I do not so exactly conform to the precepts of Pythagoras, as to practise every night this solemn recollection, yet I am not so lost in dissipation as wholly to omit it; nor can I forbear sometimes to enquire of myself, in what employment my life has passed away. Much of my time has sunk into nothing, and left no trace by which it can be distinguished; and of this I now only know, that it was once in my power, and might once have been improved.

Of other parts of life, memory can give some account; at some hours I have been gay, and at others serious; I have sometimes mingled in conversation, and sometimes meditated in solitude; one day has been spent in consulting the ancient sages, and another in writing Adventurers…’

Walter Scott wrote a biography of Samuel Johnson, which is published as part of his “Miscellaneous Prose Works”.  It begins:

‘Of all the men distinguished in this or any other age, Dr. JOHNSON has left upon posterity the strongest and most vivid impression, so far as person, manners, disposition, and conversation, are concerned. We do but name him, or open a book which he has written, and the sound and action recall to the imagination at once, his form, his merits, his peculiarities, nay, the very uncouthness of his gestures, and the deep impressive tone of his voice. We learn not only what he said, but form an idea how he said it; and have, at the same time, a shrewd guess of the secret motive why he did so, and whether he spoke in sport or in anger, in the desire of conviction, or for the love of debate. It was said of a noted wag, that his bon-mots did not give full satisfaction when published, because he could not print his face. But with respect to Dr. Johnson, this has been in some degree accomplished; and, although the greater part of the present generation never saw him, yet he is, in our eye, a personification as lively, as that of Siddons in Lady Macbeth, or Kemble in Cardinal Wolsey…’

Amanuenses

‘On Monday, March 23 [1772], I found him busy, preparing a fourth edition of

his folio Dictionary. Mr. Peyton, one of his original amanuenses, was

writing for him.

He seemed also to be intent on some sort of chymical operation. I was

entertained by observing how he contrived to send Mr. Peyton on an

errand, without seeming to degrade him. 'Mr. Peyton,--Mr. Peyton, will

you be so good as to take a walk to Temple-Bar? You will there see a

chymist's shop; at which you will be pleased to buy for me an ounce of

oil of vitriol; not spirit of vitriol, but oil of vitriol. It will cost

three half-pence.' Peyton immediately went, and returned with it, and

told him it cost but a penny.’

The text above is from James Boswell’s “Life of Johnson”.  Mr. Peyton served for Samuel Johnson as several helpers served for Sir Walter Scott while he was debilitated.  One of these, perhaps the most helpful, was William Laidlaw.  From John Gibson Lockhart’s “The Life of Sir Walter Scott”:

‘It was at a farm in this region that Scott met with one of his most attached friends and helpers,

 William Laidlaw, whose services he found to be invaluable, not only in his office of farm bailiff, 

but also as literary amanuensis, counsellor, and friend.’

General Paoli

James Boswell befriended General Pasquale Paoli on a visit to Corsica, later making Paoli famous throughout all Europe, by publishing his “An Account of Corsica” (1768).  Paoli was perhaps one of the more honorable of Boswell’s companions, many of which were a point of concern for Boswell’s strict father.  An account of the elder Lord Auchinleck’s feelings in this regard is taken from John Gibson Lockhart’s “Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott”.

‘The following notices of Boswell himself, and his father, Lord Auchinleck, may be taken as literal transcripts from Scott’s Table-Talk:—

….“Old Lord Auchinleck was an able lawyer, a good scholar, after the manner of Scotland, and highly valued his own advantages as a man of good estate and ancient family; and, moreover, he was a strict Presbyterian and Whig of the old Scottish cast. This did not prevent his being a terribly proud aristocrat; and great was the contempt he entertained and expressed for his son James, for the nature of his friendship, and the character of the personages of whom he was engoué one after another. ‘There’s nae hope for Jamie, mon,’ he said to a friend. ‘Jamie is gane clean gyte. What do you think, mon? He’s done wi’ Paoli—he’s off wi’ the land louping scoundrel of a Corsican; and whose tail do you think he has pinned himself to now, mon?’ Here the old judge summoned up a sneer of most sovereign contempt. ‘A dominie, mon—an auld dominie! he keeped a schule, and caud it an acaadamy.’…’

Pasquale Paoli died on February 5^th, 1807.

Beginning a Journal

‘[Edinburgh,] November 20, 1825.—I have all my life regretted that I did not keep a regular Journal. I have myself lost recollection of much that was interesting, and I have deprived my family and the public of some curious information, by not carrying this resolution into effect. I have bethought me, on seeing lately some volumes of Byron's notes, that he probably had hit upon the right way of keeping such a memorandum-book, by throwing aside all pretence to regularity and order, and marking down events just as they occurred to recollection. I will try this plan; and behold I have a handsome locked volume, such as might serve for a lady's album. Nota bene, John Lockhart, and Anne, and I are to raise a Society for the suppression of Albums. It is a most troublesome shape of mendicity. Sir, your autograph—a line of poetry—or a prose sentence!—Among all the sprawling sonnets, and blotted trumpery that dishonours these miscellanies, a man must have a good stomach that can swallow this botheration as a compliment…’

Walter Scott finally began his journal, on this day, November 20^th, 1825.  There seems to be a range of prefatory remarks among the famous diarists.  Samuel Pepys published no lofty goals, and no real introduction.  He just delved into his work, beginning, as many of us might, at the beginning of the new year, in 1660.

‘Sunday 1 January 1659/60

Blessed be God, at the end of the last year I was in very good health, without any sense of my old pain, but upon taking of cold.1 I lived in Axe Yard having my wife, and servant Jane, and no more in family than us three. My wife … gave me hopes of her being with child, but on the last day of the year … [the hope was belied.] The condition of the State was thus; viz. the Rump, after being disturbed by my Lord Lambert, was lately returned to sit again…’

The famous journal keeper James Boswell, began his London Journal at the beginning of his trip from Scotland.  Like Scott, Boswell began in November; on the 15^th, in 1762.  Also like Scott, Boswell prefaced his work.

‘ The ancient philosopher certainly gave a wise counsel when he said “Know thyself.”  For surely this knowledge is of all the most important.  I might enlarge upon this.  But grave and serious declamation is not what I intend at present.  A man cannot know himself better than by attending to the feelings of his heart and his external actions, from which he may with tolerable certainty judge “what manner of person he is.”  I have therefore determined to keep a daily journal in which I shall set down me various sentiments and my various conduct, which will be not only useful, but very agreeable…’

There’s no bad time to begin one’s journal, but November saw the launching of at least two famous efforts.  Maybe it’s time to start yours.

The Burneys and Dr. Johnson

Fanny Burney, later Madame d’Arblay,  is a literary figure who bridges the time between Samuel Johnson and Walter Scott, outliving Scott by several years (died 1840).  From Boswell’s “Life of Johnson”, we learn that Johnson communicated with the Burney’s on November 16, 1784.  

‘…Johnson then proceeded to Oxford, where he was again kindly received by Dr. Adams.

He arrived in London on the 16th of November [1784], and next day sent to Dr. Burney the following note, which I insert as the last token of his

remembrance of that ingenious and amiable man, and as another of the

many proofs of the tenderness and benignity of his heart:--

'MR. JOHNSON, who came home last night, sends his respects to dear Dr.

Burney, and all the dear Burneys, little and great.'

And in 1826, Scott records in his journal a meeting with Fanny Burney, and hearing another story involving Dr. Johnson.

‘November 18…D'Arblay told us the common story of Dr. Burney, her father, having brought home her own first work, and recommended it to her perusal, was erroneous. Her father was in the secret of Evelina being printed. But the following circumstances may have given rise to the story:—Dr. Burney was at Streatham soon after the publication, where he found Mrs. Thrale recovering from her confinement, low at the moment, and out of spirits. While they were talking together, Johnson, who sat beside in a kind of reverie, suddenly broke out, "You should read this new work, madam—you should read Evelina; every one says it is excellent, and they are right." The delighted father obtained a commission from Mrs. Thrale to purchase his daughter's work, and retired the happiest of men. Mad. D'Arblay said she was wild with joy at this decisive evidence of her literary success, and that she could only give vent to her rapture by dancing and skipping round a mulberry-tree in the garden. She was very young at this time. I trust I shall see this lady again. She has simple and apparently amiable manners, with quick feelings.’