, and the much more spirited and (it is
to be feared) much less profitable one of fifteen hundred for the
_Swift_. He had, however, recently taken into partnership a certain Mr.
Hunter of Blackness. This Hunter must have had some merits--he had at
any rate sufficient wit to throw the blame of the fact that sojourn in
Scotland did not always agree with Englishmen on their disgusting habit
of 'eating too much _and not drinking enough_.' But he was a laird of
some family, and he seems to have thought that he might bring into
business the slightly hectoring ways which were then tolerated in
Scotland from persons of quality to persons of none or less. He was a
very bitter Whig, and, therefore, ill disposed towards Scott. And,
lastly, he had, or thought he had, a grievance against his distinguished
'hand' in respect of the _Swift_, to wit, that the editor of that
well-paid compilation did not devote himself to it by any means
exclusively enough. Now Scott, though the most good-natured of men and
only too easy to lead, was absolutely impossible to drive; and his blood
was as ready as the 'bluid of M'Foy' itself to be set on fire at the
notion of a cock-laird from Fife not merely treating a Scott with
discourtesy, but imputing doubtful conduct to him. He offered to throw
up the _Swift_, and though this was not accepted, broke for a time all
other connection with Constable--an unfortunate breach, as it helped to
bring about the establishment of the Ballantyne publishing business, and
so unquestionably began Scott's own ruin. It is remarkable that a
similar impatience of interference afterwards broke Scott's just-begun
connection with Blackwood, which, could it have lasted, would probably
have saved him. For that sagacious person would certainly never have
plunged, or, if he could have helped it, let anyone else plunge, into
Charybdis.

Between the publication of _Marmion_ and that of _The Lady of the Lake_
Scott was very busy in bookmaking and bookselling projects. It was
characteristic of the mixture of bad luck and bad management which hung
on the Ballantynes from the first that even their _Edinburgh Annual
Register_, published as it was in the most stirring times, and written
by Scott, by Southey, and others of the very best hands, was a failure.
He made some visits to London, and (for the scenery of the new poem) to
the Trossachs and Loch Lomond; and had other matters of concern, the
chief of which were the death of his famo