that of his family, the only ones by which he was burdened.  He was always incurring expenses, often heavy expenses, for other people.  Thus, when Mr. Terry, the actor, became joint lessee and manager of the Adelphi Theatre, London, Scott became his surety for 1250_l._, while James Ballantyne became his surety for 500_l._ more, and both these sums had to be paid by Sir Walter after Terry’s failure in 1828.  Such obligations as these, however, would have been nothing when compared with Sir Walter’s means, had all his bills on Constable been duly honoured, and had not the printing firm of Ballantyne and Co. been so deeply involved with Constable’s house that it necessarily became insolvent when he stopped.  Taken altogether, I believe that Sir Walter earned during his own lifetime at least 140,000_l._ by his literary work alone, probably more; while even on his land and building combined he did not apparently spend more than half that sum.  Then he had a certain income, about 1000_l._ a year, from his own and Lady Scott’s private property, as well as 1300_l._ a year as Clerk of Session, and 300_l._ more as Sheriff of Selkirk.  Thus even his loss of the price of several novels by Constable’s failure would not seriously have compromised Scott’s position, but for his share in the printing-house which fell with Constable, and the obligations of which amounted to 117,000_l._

As Scott had always forestalled his income,—­spending the purchase-money of his poems and novels before they were written,—­such a failure as this, at the age of fifty-five, when all the freshness of his youth was gone out of him, when he saw his son’s prospects blighted as well as his own, and knew perfectly that James Ballantyne, unassisted by him, could never hope to pay any fraction of the debt worth mentioning, would have been paralysing, had he not been a man of iron nerve, and of a pride and courage hardly ever equalled.  Domestic calamity, too, was not far off.  For two years he had been watching the failure of his wife’s health with increasing anxiety, and as calamities seldom come single, her illness took a most serious form at the very time when the blow fell, and she died within four months of the failure.  Nay, Scott was himself unwell at the critical moment, and was taking sedatives which discomposed his brain.  Twelve days before the final failure,—­which was announced to him on the 17th January, 1826,—­he enters in his diary, “Much alarmed.  I had walked till twelve with Skene and Russell, and then sat down to my work.  To my horror and surprise I could neither write nor spell, but put down one word for another, and wrote nonsense.  I was much overpowered at the same time and could not conceive the reason.  I fell asleep, however, in my chair, and slept for two hours.  On my waking my head was clearer, and I began to recollect that last night I had taken the anodyne left for the purpose by Clarkson, and being disturbed in the course of the night, I had not slept