diary which Scott kept in 1827, after Constable's and Ballantyne's
failure, and his wife's death, seems to me to suggest that there may
have been some misunderstanding between the young people, though I am
not sure that the inference is justified. The passage completes the
story of this passion--Scott's first and only deep passion--so far as
it can ever be known to us; and as it is a very pathetic and
characteristic entry, and the attachment to which it refers had a
great influence on Scott's life, both in keeping him free from some of
the most dangerous temptations of the young, during his youth, and in
creating within him an interior world of dreams and recollections
throughout his whole life, on which his imaginative nature was
continually fed--I may as well give it. "He had taken," says Mr.
Lockhart, "for that winter [1827], the house No. 6, Shandwick Place,
which he occupied by the month during the remainder of his servitude
as a clerk of session. Very near this house, he was told a few days
after he took possession, dwelt the aged mother of his first love; and
he expressed to his friend Mrs. Skene, a wish that she should carry
him to renew an acquaintance which seems to have been interrupted from
the period of his youthful romance. Mrs. Skene complied with his
desire, and she tells me that a very painful scene ensued." His diary
says,--"November 7th. Began to settle myself this morning after the
hurry of mind and even of body which I have lately undergone. I went
to make a visit and fairly softened myself, like an old fool, with
recalling old stories till I was fit for nothing but shedding tears
and repeating verses for the whole night. This is sad work. The very
grave gives up its dead, and time rolls back thirty years to add to my
perplexities. I don't care. I begin to grow case-hardened, and like a
stag turning at bay, my naturally good temper grows fierce and
dangerous. Yet what a romance to tell--and told I fear it will one day
be. And then my three years of dreaming and my two years of wakening