writer--distinction. "Try to be like somebody," said the unlucky
critic-bookseller to Lamartine; and he has been gibbeted for it, very
justly, for the best part of a century. It must be admitted that "try
not to be like other people," though a much more fashionable, is likely
to be quite as disastrous a recommendation. But the great writers,
whether they try to be like other people or try not to be like them (and
sometimes in the first case most of all), succeed only in being
themselves, and that is what Borrow does. His attraction is rather
complex, and different parts of it may, and no doubt do, apply with
differing force to this and that reader. One may be fascinated by his
pictures of an unconventional and open-air life, the very possibilities
of which are to a great extent lost in our days, though patches of
ground here and there in England (notably the tracts of open ground
between Cromer and Wells in Borrow's own county) still recall them. To
others he may be attractive for his sturdy patriotism, or his
adventurous and wayward spirit, or his glimpses of superstition and
romance. The racy downrightness of his talk; the axioms, such as that to
the Welsh alewife, "The goodness of ale depends less upon who brews it
than upon what it is brewed of"; or the sarcastic touches as that of the
dapper shopkeeper, who, regarding the funeral of Byron, observed, "I,
too, am frequently unhappy," may each and all have their votaries. His
literary devotion to literature would, perhaps, of itself attract few;
for, as has been hinted, it partook very much of the character of
will-worship, and there are few people who like any will-worship in
letters except their own; but it adds to his general attraction, no
doubt, in the case of many. That neither it, nor any other of his
claims, has yet forced itself as it should on the general public is an
undoubted fact; a fact not difficult to understand, though rather
difficult fully to explain, at least without some air of superior
knowingness and taste. Yet he has, as has been said, his devotees, and I
think they are likely rather to increase than to decrease. He wants
editing, for his allusive fashion of writing probably makes a great part
of him nearly unintelligible to those who have not from their youth up
devoted themselves to the acquisition of useless knowledge. There ought
to be a good life of him. The great mass of his translations, published
and unpublished, and the smaller mass of his early hackwork, no doubt
deserve judicious excerption. If professed philologers were not even
more ready than most other specialists each to excommunicate all the
others except himself and his own particular Johnny Dods of Farthing's
Acre, it would be rather interesting to hear what some modern men of
many languages have to say to Borrow's linguistic achievements. But all
these things are only desirable embellishments and assistances. His real
claims and his real attractions are comprised in four small volumes, the
purchase of which, under modern arrangements of booksellers, leaves some
change out of a sovereign, and which will about half fill the ordinary
bag used for briefs and dynamite. It is not a large literary baggage,
and it does not attempt any very varied literary kinds. If not exactly a
novelist in any one of his books, Borrow is a romancer, in the true and
not the ironic sense of the word, in all of them. He has not been
approached in merit by any romancer who has published books in our days,
except Charles Kingsley; and his work, if less varied in range and charm
than Kingsley's, has a much stronger and more concentrated flavour.
Moreover, he is the one English writer of our time, and perhaps of times
still farther back, who seems never to have tried to be anything but
himself; who went his own way all his life long with complete
indifference to what the public or the publishers liked, as well as to
what canons of literary form and standards of literary perfection
seemed to indicate as best worth aiming at. A most self-sufficient
person was Borrow, in the good and ancient sense, as well as, to some
extent, in the sense which is bad and modern. And what is more, he was
not only a self-sufficient person, but is very sufficient also to the
tastes of all those who love good English and good literature.
APPENDIX A
DE QUINCEY
A short time after the publication of my essay on De Quincey I learnt,
to my great concern, that it had given offence to his daughter Florence,
the widow of one of the heroes of the Indian Mutiny, Colonel Baird
Smith. Mrs. Baird Smith complained, in a letter to the newspapers, that
I had accused her father of untruthfulness, and requested the public to
suspend their judgment until the publication of certain new documents,
in the form of letters, which had been discovered. I might have replied,
if my intent had been hostile, that little fault could be justly found
with a critic of the existing evidence if new evidence were required to
confute him. But as the very last intention that I had in writing the
paper was to impute anything that can be properly called untruthfulness
to De Quincey, I thought it better to say so and to wait for the further
documents. In a subsequent private correspondence with Mrs. Baird Smith,
I found that what had offended her (her complaints being at first quite
general) was certain remarks on De Quincey's aristocratic acquaintances
as appearing in the _Autobiography_ and "not heard of afterwards,"
certain comments on the Malay incident and others like it, some on the
mystery of her father's money affairs, and the passage on his general
"impenetrability." The matter is an instance of the difficulty of
dealing with recent reputations, when the commentator gives his name.
Some really unkind things have been said of De Quincey; my intention was
not to say anything unkind at all, but simply to give an account of the
thing "as it strikes" if not "a contemporary" yet a well-willing junior.
Take for instance the Malay incident. We know from De Quincey himself
that, within a few years, the truth of this famous story was questioned,
and that he was accused of having borrowed it from something of Hogg's.
He disclaimed this, no doubt truly. He protested that it was a
faithfully recorded incident: but though the events were then fresh, he
did not produce a single witness to prove that any Malay had been near
Grasmere at the time. And so elsewhere. As I have remarked about Borrow,
there are some people who have a knack of recounting truth so that it
looks as if it never had been true. I have been informed by Mr. James
Runciman that he himself once made considerable inquiries on the track
of _Lavengro_, and found that that remarkable book is, to some extent at
any rate, apparently historic. On the other hand I have been told by
another Borrovian who knew Borrow (which I never did) that the _Life of
Joseph Sell_ never existed. In such cases a critic can only go on
internal evidence, and I am sure that the vast majority of critics would
decide against most of De Quincey's stories on that. I do not suppose
that he ever, like Lamb, deliberately begat "lie-children": but
opium-eating is not absolutely repugnant to delusion, and literary
mystification was not so much the exception as the rule in his earlier
time. As to his "impenetrability," I can only throw myself on the
readers of such memoirs and reminiscences as have been published
respecting him. The almost unanimous verdict of his acquaintances and
critics has been that he was in a way mysterious, and though no doubt
this mystery did not extend to his children, it seems to have extended
to almost every one else. I gather from Mrs. Baird Smith's own remarks
that from first to last all who were concerned with him treated him as a
person unfit to be trusted with money, and while his habit of solitary
lodging is doubtless capable of a certain amount of explanation, it
cannot be described as other than curious. I had never intended to throw
doubt on his actual acquaintance with Lord Westport or Lady Carbery.
These persons or their representatives were alive when the
_Autobiography_ was published, and would no doubt have protested if De
Quincey had not spoken truly. But I must still hold that their total
disappearance from his subsequent life is peculiar. Some other points,
such as his mentioning Wilson as his "only intimate male friend" are
textually cited from himself, and if I seem to have spoken harshly of
his early treatment by his family I may surely shelter myself behind the
touching incident, recorded in the biographies, of his crying on his
deathbed, "My dear mother! then I was greatly mistaken." If this does
not prove that he himself had entertained on the subject ideas which,
whether false or true, were unfavourable, then it is purely meaningless.
In conclusion, I have only to repeat my regret that I should, by a
perhaps thoughtless forgetfulness of the feelings of survivors, have
hurt those feelings. But I think I am entitled to say that the view of
De Quincey's character and cast of thought given in the text, while
imputing nothing discreditable in intention, is founded on the whole
published work and all the biographical evidence then accessible to me,
and will not be materially altered by anything since published or likely
to be so in future. The world, though often not quite right, is never
quite wrong about a man, and it would be almost impossible that it
should be wrong in face of such autobiographic details as are furnished,
not merely by the _Autobiography_ itself, but by a mass of notes spread
over seven years in composition and full of personal idiosyncrasy. I not
only acquit De Quincey of all serious moral delinquency,--I declare
distinctly that no imputation of it was ever intended. It is quite
possible that some of his biographers and of those who knew him may have
exaggerated his peculiarities, less possible I think that those
peculiarities should not have existed. But the matter, except for my own
regret at having offended De Quincey's daughter, will have been a happy
one if it results in a systematic publication of his letters, which,
from the specimens already printed, must be very characteristic and very
interesting. In almost all cases a considerable collection of letters is
the most effective, and especially the most truth-telling, of all
possible "lives." No letters indeed are likely to increase the literary
repute of the author of the _Confessions_ and of the _Cæsars_; but they
may very well clear up and fill in the hitherto rather fragmentary and
conjectural notion of his character, and they may, on the other hand,
confirm that idea of both which, however false it may seem to his
children, and others who were united to him by ties of affection, has
commended itself to careful students of his published works.
APPENDIX B
LOCKHART
The most singular instance of the floating dislike to Lockhart's memory,
to which I have more than once referred in the text, occurred
subsequently to the original publication of my essay, and not very long
ago, when my friend Mr. Louis Stevenson thought proper to call Lockhart
a "cad." This extraordinary _obiter dictum_ provoked, as might have been
expected, not a few protests, but I do not remember that Mr. Stevenson
rejoined, and I have not myself had any opportunity of learning from him
what he meant. I can only suppose that the ebullition must have been
prompted by one of two things, the old scandal about the duel in which
John Scott the editor of the _London_ was shot, and a newer one, which
was first bruited abroad, I think, in Mr. Sidney Colvin's book on Keats.
Both of these, and especially the first, may be worth a little
discussion.
I do not think that any one who examines Mr. Colvin's allegation, will
think it very damaging. It comes to this, that Keats's friend Bailey met
Lockhart in the house of Bishop Greig at Stirling, told him some
particulars about Keats, extracted from him a promise that he would not
use them against the poet, and afterwards thought he recognised some of
the details in the _Blackwood_ attack which ranks next to the famous
_Quarterly_ article. Here it is to be observed, first, that there is no
sufficient evidence that Lockhart wrote this _Blackwood_ article;
secondly, that it is by no means certain that if he did, he was making,
or considered himself to be making, any improper use of what he had
heard; thirdly, that for the actual interview and its tenor we have only
a vague _ex parte_ statement made long after date.
The other matter is much more important, and as the duel itself has been
mentioned more than once or twice in the foregoing pages, and as it is
to this day being frequently referred to in what seems to me an entirely
erroneous manner, with occasional implications that Lockhart showed the
white feather, it may be well to give a sketch of what actually
happened, as far as can be made out from the most trustworthy accounts,
published and unpublished.
One of Lockhart's signatures in _Blackwood_--a signature which, however,
like others, was not, I believe, peculiar to him--was "Zeta," and this
Zeta assailed the Cockney school in a sufficiently scorpion-like manner.
Thereupon Scott's magazine, the _London_, retorted, attacking Lockhart
by name. On this Lockhart set out for London and, with a certain young
Scotch barrister named Christie as his second, challenged Scott. But
Scott refused to fight, unless Lockhart would deny that he was editor of
_Blackwood_. Lockhart declared that Scott had no right to ask this, and
stigmatised him as a coward. He then published a statement, sending at
the same time a copy to Scott. In the published form the denial of
editorship was made, in the one sent to Scott it was omitted. Thereupon
Scott called Lockhart a liar. Of this Lockhart took no notice, but
Christie his second did, and, an altercation taking place between them,
Scott challenged Christie and they went out, Scott's second being Mr. P.
G. Patmore, Christie's Mr. Traill, afterwards well known as a London
police magistrate. Christie fired in the air, Scott fired at Christie
and missed. Thereupon Mr. Patmore demanded a second shot, which, I am
informed, could and should, by all laws of the duello, have been
refused. Both principal and second on the other side were, however,
inexperienced and probably unwilling to baulk their adversaries. Shots
were again exchanged, Christie this time (as he can hardly be blamed for
doing) taking aim at his adversary and wounding him mortally. Patmore
fled the country, Christie and Traill took their trial and were
acquitted.
I have elsewhere remarked that this deplorable result is said to have
been brought on by errors of judgment on the part of more than one
person. Hazlitt, himself no duellist and even accused of personal
timidity, is said to have egged on Scott, and to have stung him by some
remark of his bitter tongue into challenging Christie, and there is no
doubt that Patmore's conduct was most reprehensible. But we are here
concerned with Lockhart, not with them. As far as I understand the
imputations made on him, he is charged either with want of
straightforwardness in omitting part of his explanation in the copy sent
to Scott, or with cowardice in taking no notice of Scott's subsequent
lie direct, or with both. Let us examine this.
At first sight the incident of what, from the most notorious action of
Lord Clive, we may call the "red and white treaties" seems odd. But it
is to be observed, first, that Lockhart could not be said to conceal
from Scott what he published to all the world; secondly, that his
conduct was perfectly consistent throughout. He had challenged Scott,
who had declined to go out. Having offered his adversary satisfaction,
he was not bound to let him take it with a proviso, or to satisfy his
private inquisitiveness. But if not under menace, but considering Scott
after his refusal as unworthy the notice of a gentleman, and not further
to be taken into account, he chose to inform the public of the truth, he
had a perfect right to do so. And it is hardly necessary to say that it
was the truth that he was not editor of _Blackwood_.
This consideration will also account for his conduct in not renewing his
challenge after Scott's offensive words. He had offered the man
satisfaction and had been refused. No one is bound to go on challenging
a reluctant adversary. At all times Lockhart seems to have been
perfectly ready to back his opinion, as may be seen from a long affair
which had happened earlier, in connection with the "Baron Lauerwinkel"
matter. There he had promptly come forward and in his own name
challenged the anonymous author of a pamphlet bearing the title of
"Hypocrisy Unveiled." The anonym had, like Scott, shirked, and had
maintained his anonymity. (Lord Cockburn says it was an open secret, but
I do not know who he was.) Thereupon Lockhart took no further notice,
just as he did in the later matter, and I do not believe that a court of
honour in any country would find fault with him. At any rate, I think
that we are entitled to know, much more definitely than I have ever seen
it stated, what the charge against him is. We may indeed blame him in
both these matters, and perhaps in others, for neglecting the sound rule
that anonymous writing should never be personal. If he did this,
however, he is in the same box with almost every writer for the press in
his own generation, and with too many in this. I maintain that in each
case he promptly gave the guarantee which the honour of his time
required, and which is perhaps the only possible guarantee, that of
being ready to answer in person for what he had written impersonally.
This was all he could do, and he did it.
INDEX
Allen, Thomas, 113
Arnold, Matthew, 116, 257, 378
Austen, Jane, 29
_Blackwood's Magazine_, 37 _sqq._, 276 _sqq._, 343 _sqq._
Borrow, George, 403-439;
his life, 403, 404;
his excessive oddity, 404-411;
his satiric and character-drawing faculty, 414-417;
sketches of his books, 417-433;
his general literary character, 433-439
Brougham, Lord, 107, 109
Burke, Edmund, 10 _sqq._
Burns, Robert, 34, 48, 53, 159, 160, 353
Byron, Lord, 3, 131, 132, 393
Canning, George, 75, 97, 200, 385
Carlyle, Thomas, 47, 270-272, 323, 369, 370
Coleridge, S. T., 141
Colvin, Mr. Sidney, 445
Courthope, Mr. W. J., 4
Crabbe, George, 1-32;
the decline of his popularity, 1-5;
sketch of his life, 6-12;
his works and their characteristics, 13-20;
their prosaic element, 20-25;
was he a poet?, 25-32
Cunningham, Allan, 46, 53
Dante, 26, 218, 230, 231
Douglas, Scott, 41, 353
Dryden, John, 22, 30, 85, 232
Fitzgerald, Edward (translator of Omar Khayyám), 4
Flaubert, Gustave, 19
_Fraser's Magazine_, 359, 360
Gifford, William, 3, 21, 152
Hannay, Mr. David, 350
Hazlitt, William, 135-169;
differing estimates of him, 135-140;
his life, 140-146;
his works, 146-169
----xxi, xxii, 4, 24, 25, 130, 131, 217
Hogg, James, 33-66;
his special interest, 33, 34;
his life, 34-37;
anecdotes and estimates of him, 37-47;
his poems, 47-54;
his general prose, 54, 55;
_The Confessions of a Sinner_, 55-64
Hood and Praed, 397-399
Hook, Theodore, 357-359
Howells, Mr. W. D., xvii
Hunt, Leigh, 201-233;
scattered condition of his work, 201-203;
his life, 204-213;
the "Skimpole" matter, 213-216;
his vulgarity, 217-219;
his poems, 219-223;
his critical and miscellaneous work, 223-233
Jeffrey, Francis, 100-134;
a critic pure and simple, 100, 101;
his life, 101-114;
the foundation of the _Edinburgh Review_, 106-109;
his criticism, 115, 134
----3, 4, 21, 24, 29
Johnson, Samuel, 2, 11, 14, 16
Joubert, Joseph, 26
Lang, Mr. Andrew, xxii
Lockhart, John Gibson, 339-373, and Appendix B;
his literary fate, 339-341;
his life, 341-346, 359-361;
_The Chaldee MS._ and _Peter's Letters_, 343-345;
the novels, 346-349;
the poems, 349-351;
_Life of Burns_, 353;
_Life of Scott_, 354-356;
_Life of Hook_, 357-359;
his editorship of the _Quarterly_ and his criticism generally, 361-373;
charges against him, 445-448
----3, 6, 13, 33, 37, 39-44, 60, 63, 64, 108, 112, 113, 293, 294
Macaulay, Lord, 294, 384
Maguire, W., 279, 360
[Transcriber's Note: The alternative form of Maguire, Maginn, is used in
the main body of the text.]
Masson, Professor, 305 _sqq._
Moore, Thomas, 170-200;
a French critic on him, 170-172;
his miscellaneous work, 172-174;
his life, 174-183;
his character, 183-185;
survey of his poetry, 185-200
----6, 27, 110.
Morley, Mr. John, 27
Newman, Cardinal, 4
North, Christopher. _See_ Wilson, John
Peacock, Thomas Love, 234-269;
his literary position, 234, 235;
his life, 236-239;
some difficulties in him, 239-242;
survey of his work, 242-259;
its special characteristics, 257-269
Pope, Alexander, 22, 25
Praed, W. M., 374-402;
editions of him, 374-376;
his life, 376-381;
his early writings, 381-384;
his poetical work, 385-398;
Hood and Praed, 397-399;
his special charm, 399-402
Quincey, Thomas de, 304-338, and Appendix A;
editions of him, 304-309;
his life, 309-314;
his faculty of rigmarole, 314-321;
defects and merits of his work, 321-338
----47, 282
Rogers, Samuel, 12 _note_
Scott, John, his duel and death, 143, 144; Appendix B
Scott, Sir Walter, 34-36, 49, 54, 63, 111, 151, 265, 273, 354-359, 406, 407
Shelley, P. B., 190, 191, 210, 247-250
Smith, Bobus, 69
Smith, Mr. Goldwin, xi, xiv
Smith, Sydney, 67-99;
the beneficence of his biographers, 67-69;
his life, 69-80;
his letters, 81-84;
his published work, 84-99
Staël, Madame de, 126, 127
Stephen, Mr. Leslie, 4
Stevenson, Mr. R. L., 445
Sully, Mr. James, xxvii _note_
Swift, Jonathan, Jeffrey on, 128, 129
Tennyson, Lord, 4, 29, 292, 293, 365, 366
Thackeray, W. M., on Hazlitt, 135, 136
Thomson, James, 27
Thurlow, Lord, 10-12
Vallat, M. Jules, 171 _sqq._
Veitch, Professor, 38, 40, 46
Voltaire, 81
Walker, Sarah, 139 _sqq._
Wilson, John, 270-303;
Carlyle's judgment of him and another, 270-274;
his life, 274-277;
the _Noctes_, 278-288;
his miscellaneous work, 288-303
Wilson, John, 3, 4, 29, 44-47.
_See_ also Essays on De Quincey and Lockhart
Wordsworth, William, 3, 27, 117, 323
Young, Sir George, 375
"Zeta," 446
THE END
_Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh._