Marriage | Page 9

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
compliment. 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
Ann 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 confidence. 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.
"Abbortsford, Tuesday Evening."
In the next note he acknowledges a copy of Destiny, sent him by the
author:--
Sir Walter Scott to Miss Ferrier.
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 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 [1] will be happy
to be your beau in the Blucher, [2] 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.
[1] Destiny was published by Cadell through Sir Walter's intervention,
and by it the author realised £1700.
[2] Name of the Stage-coach.
In 1832, the year after the birth of his godchild Destiny, poor Sir Walter
began to show signs of that general break-up of mind and body so
speedily followed by his death. Of this sad state Miss Ferrier writes to
her sister, Mrs. Kinloch (in London):--
"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 and genuine influence was ever freely diffused on all whom it
could benefit. I trust, however, he may be spared yet awhile; it might be
salutary to himself to con over the lessons of a death-bed, and it might
be edifying to others to have his record added to the many that have
gone before him, that all below is vanity. But till we feel that we shall
never believe it! I ought to feel it more than most people, as I sit in my
dark and solitary chamber, shut out, as it seems, from all the 'pride of
life'; but, alas! Worldly things make their way into the darkest and most
solitary recesses, for their dwelling is in the heart, and from thence God
only can expel them."

Her first visit to the author of Waverley was in the autumn of 1811,
when she accompanied her father to Ashestiel. The invitation came
from Scott to Mr. Ferrier:--
Walter Scott, Esq., to James Ferrier, Esq.
"My DEAR SIR--We are delighted to see that your feet are free and
disposed to turn themselves our way--a pleasure which we cannot
consent to put off till we have a house at Abbotsford, which is but a
distant prospect. We are quite disengaged and alone, saving the
company of Mr. Terry the comedian, who is assisting me in planning
my cottage, having been bred an architect under Wyat.