“Tickler.—­Afraid to lose the countenance and occasional assistance of Mr. Canning.

“North.—­There indeed, James, was a beautiful exhibition of party politics, a dignified exhibition of personal independence.”—­Noctes Ambrosianae.

It is understood that Canning, who had received the King’s commands in April 10, felt keenly the loneliness of his position—­estranged from his old comrades, and deterred by the remembrance of many bitter satires against them from having close intimacy with his new co-adjutors.

[504] See Spectator.

[505] “...  Your letter has given me the vertigo—­my head turns round like a chariot wheel, and I am on the point of asking—­

‘Why, how now?  Am I Giles, or am I not?’

“The Duke of Wellington out?—­bad news at home, and worse abroad.  Lord Anglesea in his situation?—­does not much mend the matter.  Duke of Clarence in the Navy?—­wild work.  Lord Melville, I suppose, falls of course—­perhaps cum tota sequela, about which sequela, unless Sir W. Rae and the Solicitor, I care little.  The whole is glamour to one who reads no papers, and has none to read.  I must get one, though, if this work is to go on, for it is quite bursting in ignorance.  Canning is haughty and prejudiced—­but, I think, honourable as well as able:  nous verrons.  I fear Croker will shake, and heartily sorry I should feel for that....”—­Scott to Lockhart:  Life, vol. ix. p. 99.

[506] R. Plumer Ward.—­See July 4.

[507] A fuller statement of Scott’s views at this crisis will be found in his letters to Lockhart and Morritt in Life, vol. ix. (April, May, and June, 1827).

[508] Count Itterburg, then in his 20th year, was the name under which Gustavus, the ex-Crown Prince of Sweden, visited Scotland in 1819.  It was his intention to study at the University of Edinburgh during the winter session, but, his real name becoming known, this was rendered impracticable by the curiosity and attention of the public.  He devoted himself mainly to the study of military matters, and out-door exercises, roughing it in all sorts of weather, sometimes,—­to his mentor Baron Polier’s uneasiness,—­setting out on dark and stormy nights, and making his way across country from point to point.  This self-imposed training was no doubt with the secret hope that he might some day be called upon by the Swedes to oust Bernadotte, and mount the throne of the great Gustavus.  Mr. Skene saw a good deal of him, and gives many interesting details of his life in Edinburgh, such as the following account of a meeting at his own house.  “He was interested with a set of portraits of the two last generations of the Royal Family of Scotland, which hung in my dining-room, and which had been presented to my grandfather by Prince Charles Edward, in consideration of the sacrifices he had made for the Prince’s service during the unfortunate enterprise of the year