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JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART.
John Gibson Lockhart, the distinguished editor of the _Quarterly Review_, and biographer of Sir Walter Scott, was born in the Manse of Cambusnethan, on the 14th of June 1794. From both his parents he inherited an honourable descent. His father, John Lockhart, D.D., was the second son of William Lockhart of Birkhill, the head of an old family in Lanarks.h.i.+re, lineally descended from Sir Stephen Lockhart of Cleghorn, a member of the Privy Council, and armour-bearer to James III.
His mother was Elizabeth Gibson, daughter of the Rev. John Gibson, senior minister of St Cuthbert's, Edinburgh; her maternal grandmother was the Honourable Mary Erskine, second daughter of Henry, third Lord Cardross, and sister of David, ninth Earl of Buchan. In 1796, Dr Lockhart was translated from Cambusnethan to the College church, Glasgow; and the early education of his son was consequently conducted in that city.
During the third year of his attendance at the Grammar-school, young Lockhart, though naturally possessed of a sound const.i.tution, was seized with a severe illness, which, it was feared, might terminate in pulmonary consumption. After a period of physical prostration, he satisfactorily rallied, when it was found by his teacher that he had attained such proficiency in cla.s.sical learning, during his confinement, as to be qualified for the University, without the usual attendance of a fourth session at the Grammar-school. At the University of Glasgow, his progress fully realised his excellent promise in the academy. The youngest member of his various cla.s.ses, he was uniformly a successful compet.i.tor for honours. He gave indication of poetical ability in a metrical translation of a part of Lucan's "Pharsalia," which was rewarded with a prize, and received warm encomiums from the professors.
On one of the Snell Exhibitions to Baliol College, Oxford, becoming vacant, during the session of 1808-9, it was unanimously conferred on him by the faculty. Entering Baliol College in 1809, his cla.s.sical attainments were such, that Dr Jenkins, the master of the college, was led to predict that he would reflect honour on that inst.i.tution, and on the University of Glasgow. At his graduation, on the completion of his attendance at Baliol, he realised the expectations of his admiring preceptor; the youngest of all who graduated on the occasion, being in his eighteenth year, he was numbered in the _first cla.s.s_,--an honour rarely attained by the most accomplished Oxonians. In the choice of a profession he evinced considerable hesitation; but was at length induced by a relative, a member of the legal faculty, to qualify himself for practice at the Scottish Bar. Besides affording a suitable scope for his talents and acquirements, it was deemed that the Parliament House of Edinburgh had certain hereditary claims on his services. Through his paternal grandmother, he was descended from Sir James Lockhart of Lee, Lord Justice-Clerk in the reign of Charles II., and father of the celebrated Sir George Lockhart of Carnwath, Lord President of the Court of Session; and of another judge, Sir John Lockhart, Lord Castlehill.
Having completed a curriculum of cla.s.sical and philosophical study at Oxford, and made a tour on the Continent, Lockhart proceeded to Edinburgh, to prosecute the study of Scottish law. In 1816 he pa.s.sed advocate. Well-skilled in the details of legal knowledge, and in the preparation of written pleadings, he lacked a fluency of utterance, so entirely essential to success as a pleader at the Bar. He felt his deficiency, but did not strive to surmount it. Joining himself to a literary circle, of which John Wilson and the Ettrick Shepherd were the more conspicuous members, he resolved to follow the career of a man of letters. In 1817, he became one of the original contributors to _Blackwood's Magazine_; and by his learned and ingenious articles essentially promoted the early reputation of that subsequently popular periodical. In 1819 appeared his first separate publication, ent.i.tled, "Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk,"--a work of three octavo volumes, in which an imaginary Doctor Morris humorously and pungently delineates the manners and characteristics of the more distinguished literary Scotsmen of the period; and which, by exciting some angry criticism, attracted general attention to the real author.[42] In May of the previous year, at the residence in Edinburgh of Mr Home Drummond of Blair-Drummond, he was introduced to the personal acquaintance of Sir Walter Scott. Their acquaintance ripened into a speedy intimacy; and on the 29th April 1820, Lockhart became the son-in-law of his ill.u.s.trious friend, by espousing his eldest daughter, Sophia. Continuing to furnish sparkling contributions to _Blackwood's Magazine_, Lockhart now began to exhibit powers of prolific authors.h.i.+p. In the course of a few years he produced "Valerius," a tale descriptive of ancient Rome; "Reginald Dalton," a novel founded on his personal experiences at Oxford; the interesting romance of "Matthew Wald," and "Adam Blair," a Scottish story. The last of these works, it may be interesting to notice, took origin in the following manner. During a visit to his parents at Glasgow, his father had incidentally mentioned, after dinner, that Mr Adam, a former minister of Cathcart, had been deprived for certain immoralities, and afterwards reponed, at the entreaty of his paris.h.i.+oners, on the death of the individual who had succeeded him after his deposition. On hearing the narrative, Lockhart retired to his apartment and drew up the plan of his tale, which was ready for the press within the short s.p.a.ce of three weeks. In 1823, he became known as an elegant versifier, by the publication of his translations from the "Spanish Ballads." He subsequently published a "Life of Napoleon Bonaparte," in "Murray's Family Library;" and produced a "Life of Robert Burns," for "Constable's Miscellany." At this period he chiefly resided in Edinburgh, spending some of the summer months at Chiefswood, a cottage about two miles from Abbotsford. But Lockhart's growing reputation ere long secured him a more advantageous and lucrative position. In 1825, he was appointed to the editors.h.i.+p of the _Quarterly Review_; and thus, at the age of thirty-one, became the successor of Gifford, in conducting one of the most powerful literary organs of the age. He now removed to London. On the 15th of June 1834, the degree of Doctor of Civil Law was conferred on him by the University of Oxford.
During the last illness of Sir Walter Scott, Lockhart was eminently dutiful in his attendance on the ill.u.s.trious sufferer. As the literary executor of the deceased, he was zealous even to indiscretion; his "Life of Scott," notwithstanding its ill-judged personalities, is one of the most interesting biographical works in the language. His own latter history affords few materials for observation; he frequented the higher literary circles of the metropolis, and well sustained the reputation of the _Quarterly Review_. He retired from his editorial duties in 1853, having suffered previously from impaired health. The progress of his malady was accelerated by a succession of family trials and bereavements, which preyed heavily on his mind. His eldest son, John Hugh Lockhart (the Hugh Littlejohn of Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather,") died in 1831; his amiable wife in 1837; and of his two remaining children, a son and a daughter, the former, Walter Scott Lockhart Scott, Lieutenant, 16th Lancers, who had succeeded to the estate of Abbotsford on the death of his uncle, the second Sir Walter Scott, died in 1853. In 1847, his daughter and only surviving child was married to James Robert Hope, Esquire, Q.C., son of General the Honourable Sir Alexander Hope, and nephew of the late Earl of Hopetoun, of peninsular fame; and shortly before her father's death, this lady, along with her husband, abjured the Protestant faith.
In the autumn of 1853, in accordance with the advice of his medical advisers, Lockhart proceeded to Italy; but on his return the following summer, he appeared rather to have lost than gained strength. Arranging his affairs in London, he took up his abode with his elder brother, Mr Lockhart, M.P., at Milton-Lockhart, on the banks of the Clyde, and in the parish adjoining that of his birth. Here he suffered an attack of cholera, which much debilitated his already wasted strength. In October he was visited by Dr Ferguson of London, who conveyed him to Abbotsford to be tended by his daughter; there he breathed his last on the 25th November 1854, in his 61st year. His remains were interred in Dryburgh Abbey, beside those of his ill.u.s.trious father-in-law, with whom his name will continue to be a.s.sociated. The estate of Abbotsford is now in the possession of his daughter and her husband, who, in terms of the Abbotsford entail, have a.s.sumed the name of Scott. Their infant daughter, Mary Monica, along with her mother, are the only surviving lineal representatives of the Author of "Waverley."
Possessed of a vigorous intellect, varied talents, and accurate scholars.h.i.+p, Lockhart was impatient of contradiction, and was p.r.o.ne to censure keenly those who had offended him. To strangers his manners were somewhat uninviting, and in society he was liable to periods of taciturnity. He loved the ironical and facetious; and did not scruple to indulge in ridicule even at the expense of his intimate a.s.sociates. With many peculiarities of manner, and a temper somewhat fretful and impulsive, we have good authority for recording, that many unfortunate men of genius derived support from his bounty. Ardent in temperament, he was severe in resenting a real or fancied wrong; but among those to whom he gave his confidence, he was found to be possessed of affectionate and generous dispositions. He has complained, in a testamentary doc.u.ment, that his course of procedure was often misunderstood, and the complaint is probably well-founded. He was personally of a handsome and agreeable presence, and his countenance wore the aspect of intelligence.
[42] In his Life of Scott, Lockhart states that "Peter's Letters" "were not wholly the work of one hand."
BROADSWORDS OF SCOTLAND.[43]
TUNE--_"Oh, the roast beef of Old England."_
Now there 's peace on the sh.o.r.e, now there 's calm on the sea, Fill a gla.s.s to the heroes whose swords kept us free, Right descendants of Wallace, Montrose, and Dundee.
Oh, the broadswords of old Scotland!
And oh! the old Scottish broadswords.
Old Sir Ralph Abercromby, the good and the brave-- Let him flee from our board, let him sleep with the slave, Whose libation comes slow while we honour his grave.
Oh, the broadswords, &c.
Though he died not like him amid victory's roar, Though disaster and gloom wove his shroud on the sh.o.r.e; Not the less we remember the spirit of Moore.
Oh, the broadswords, &c.
Yea a place with the fallen, the living shall claim, We 'll entwine in one wreath every glorious name, The Gordon, the Ramsay, the Hope, and the Graham.
All the broadswords, &c.
Count the rocks of the Spey, count the groves of the Forth-- Count the stars in the clear cloudless heaven of the north; Then go blazon their numbers, their names and their worth.
All the broadswords, &c.
The highest in splendour, the humblest in place, Stand united in glory, as kindred in race; For the private is brother in blood to his Grace.
Oh, the broadswords, &c.
Then sacred to each and to all let it be, Fill a gla.s.s to the heroes whose swords kept us free, Right descendants of Wallace, Montrose, and Dundee.
Oh, the broadswords of old Scotland!
And oh! the old Scottish broadswords.
[43] This song, with several others of ephemeral interest, was composed by Lockhart, to be sung at the mess of the Mid-Lothian Yeomanry, of which he was a member. Of the songs produced for these festive occasions, a collection for private circulation was printed in 1825, at the Ballantyne press, with the t.i.tle, "Songs of the Edinburgh Troop,"
pp. 28. In this collection, the "Broadswords" song bears date July 1821; it was published with music in 1822, in the third volume of Thomson's Collection.
CAPTAIN PATON'S LAMENT.[44]
Touch once more a sober measure, And let punch and tears be shed, For a prince of good old fellows, That, alack-a-day! is dead; For a prince of worthy fellows, And a pretty man also, That has left the Saltmarket, In sorrow, grief, and woe.
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
His waistcoat, coat, and breeches Were all cut off the same web, Of a beautiful snuff-colour, Of a modest genty drab; The blue stripe in his stocking, Round his neat slim leg did go, And his ruffles of the cambric fine, They were whiter than the snow.
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
His hair was curled in order, At the rising of the sun, In comely rows and buckles smart, That about his ears did run; And before there was a toupee, That some inches up did grow, And behind there was a long queue, That did o'er his shoulders flow.
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
And whenever we forgather'd, He took off his wee three-c.o.c.kit; And he proffer'd you his snuff-box, Which he drew from his side-pocket; And on Burdett or Bonaparte He would make a remark or so, And then along the plainstones Like a provost he would go.
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
In dirty days he picked well His footsteps with his rattan; Oh! you ne'er could see the least speck On the shoes of Captain Paton.
And on entering the coffee-room About two, all men did know They would see him with his _Courier_ In the middle of the row.
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
Now and then, upon a Sunday, He invited me to dine On a herring and a mutton chop, Which his maid dress'd very fine.
There was also a little Malmsay, And a bottle of Bordeaux, Which, between me and the captain, Pa.s.s'd nimbly to and fro!
Oh! I ne'er shall take potluck with Captain Paton no mo'e!
Or, if a bowl was mentioned, The captain he would ring, And bid Nelly run to the Westport, And a stoup of water bring.
Then would he mix the genuine stuff, As they made it long ago, With limes that on his property In Trinidad did grow!
Oh! we ne'er shall taste the like of Captain Paton's punch no mo'e!
And then all the time he would discourse So sensible and courteous, Perhaps talking of last sermon He had heard from Dr Porteous; Of some little bit of scandal About Mrs So-and-So, Which he scarce could credit, having heard The _con._ but not the _pro._!
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
Or when the candles were brought forth, And the night was fairly setting in, He would tell some fine old stories About Minden-field or Dettingen; How he fought with a French major, And dispatch'd him at a blow, While his blood ran out like water On the soft gra.s.s below!
Oh! we ne'er shall hear the like from Captain Paton no mo'e!
But at last the captain sickened, And grew worse from day to day, And all miss'd him in the coffee-room, From which now he staid away; On Sabbaths, too, the Wynd kirk Made a melancholy show, All for wanting of the presence Of our venerable beau!
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!
And in spite of all that Cleghorn And Corkindale could do, It was plain, from twenty symptoms, That death was in his view; So the captain made his test'ment, And submitted to his foe, And we laid him by the Ram's-horn kirk-- 'Tis the way we all must go!
Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e!