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Memoirs of James Robert Hope Scott, Volume 2

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_The Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P. to J. R. Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.C._

11 Carlton House Terrace, S.W.

March 25, '71.

My dear Hope-Scott,--...I learn with pleasure that you now find yourself
able to make the effort necessary for applying yourself to what I trust you
will find a healthful and genial employment.

You offer me a double temptation, to which I yield with but too much
readiness. I am glad of anything which associates my name with yours; and I
feel it a great honour to be marked out in the public view by your
selection of me as a loyal admirer of Scott, towards whom, both as writer
and as man, I cannot help entertaining feelings, perhaps (though this is
saying much) even bordering upon excess.

Honesty binds me to wish you would do better for your purpose, but if you
do not think any other plan desirable, I accept your proposal with thanks.
Believe me

Affectionately yours,

W. E. GLADSTONE.

J. R. Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.C.

From the letter of dedication, which I should have been glad, if space had
permitted, to give as a whole, I subjoin the opening and closing
paragraphs, with notices (inclusive of some critical remarks) of the deeply
interesting pages which intervene:--

_J. R. Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.C. to the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P._


Arundel Castle: April 10, 1871.

My dear Gladstone,--Although our friendship has endured for many years, and
has survived great changes, it is not on account of my affection for you
that I have desired to connect these pages with your name. It is because
from you, more than from any one else who is now alive, I have received
assurances of that strong and deep admiration of Walter Scott, both as an
author and as a man, which I have long felt myself, and which I heartily
agree with you in wishing to extend and perpetuate. On my part, such a
desire might on other grounds be natural; on yours it can only spring from
the conviction, which I know you to entertain, that both the writings and
the personal history of that extraordinary man, while affording
entertainment of the purest kind, and supplying stores of information which
can nowhere else be so pleasantly acquired, have in them a great deal which
no student of human nature ought to neglect, and much also which those who
engage in the struggle of life with high purposes--men who are prepared to
work earnestly and endure nobly--cannot pass without loss.

[After quoting passages from Mr. Gladstone's letters to himself, showing
the hold which Walter Scott had over his friend's mind, Mr. Hope-Scott
states his reasons for abandoning his original idea of having a new Life
written, and for preferring to publish an Abridgment of it, and the
Abridgment by Lockhart himself:--]

A work of art in writing is subject to the same rules as one in painting or
in architecture. Those who seek to represent it in a reduced form must,
above all things, study its proportions, and make their reduction equal
over all its parts. But, in the case of written compositions, there are no
mechanical appliances as there are in painting and architecture, for
varying the scale; and there is, moreover, a greater difficulty in catching
the leading principle of the design, and thus establishing the starting-
point for the process which is to follow. Hence, an abridgment by the
author himself must necessarily be the best--indeed, the only true
abridgment of what he has intended in his larger work; and I deem it very
fortunate that Cadell's influence overcame Lockhart's repugnance to the
task....

There is [however] an abiding reason why Scott's personal history should
not be too freely generalised, and an abstract notion be substituted for
the real man.... In Scott, if in any man, what was remarkable was the
sustained and continuous power of his character. It is to be traced in the
smallest things as well as in the greatest; in his daily habits as much as
in his public actions; in his fancies and follies as well as in his best
and wisest doings. Everywhere we find the same power of imagination, and
the same energy of will; and, though it has been said that no man is a hero
to his _valet-de-chambre_, I am satisfied that Scott's most familiar
attendants never doubted his greatness, or looked upon him with less
respect than those who judged him as he stood forth amidst the homage of
the world. In dealing with such a character, it is hardly necessary to say
that the omission of details becomes, after a certain point, a serious
injury to the truth of the whole portrait; and if any man should object
that this volume is not short enough, I should be tempted to answer, that
if he reads by foot-rule, he had better not think of studying, in any
shape, the life of Walter Scott.

[In what follows, Mr. Hope-Scott speaks of 'the depth and tenderness of
feeling which Lockhart, in daily life, so often hid under an almost fierce
reserve,' and regards it as matter of thankfulness that he was spared the
suffering he would have felt in the death of his only daughter, 'whose
singular likeness to her mother must have continually recalled to him both
the features and the character of her of whom he wrote' those touching
words in the original Life which Mr. Hope-Scott quotes, with evident
application to his own bereavement, to which he makes a short and sad
reference. He concludes:--]

And now, my dear Gladstone, _vive valeque_. You have already earned a
noble place in the history of your country, and though there is one great
subject on which we differ, I am able heartily to desire that your future
career may be as distinguished as your past. But since it is only too
certain that the highest honours of statesmanship can neither be won nor
held without exertions which are full of danger to those who make them, I
will add the further wish, that you may long retain, as safeguards to your
health, your happiness, and your usefulness, that fresh and versatile
spirit, and that strong sense of the true and beautiful, which have caused
you to be addressed on this occasion by Your affectionate friend,

JAMES R. HOPE-SCOTT.

The Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone.

Dr. Newman's letter, on receiving from Mr. Hope-Scott a copy of the
Abridgment, is full of interest:--

_The Very Rev. Dr. Newman to J. R. Hope-Scott., Esq., Q.C._

The Oratory: May 14, 1871.

My dear Hope-Scott,--Thank you for your book. In one sense I deserve it; I
have ever had such a devotion, I may call it, to Walter Scott. As a boy, in
the early summer mornings I read 'Waverley' and 'Guy Mannering' in bed,
when they first came out, before it was time to get up; and long before
that, I think, when I was eight years old, I listened eagerly to the 'Lay
of the Last Minstrel,' which my mother and aunt were reading aloud. When he
was dying I was continually thinking of him, with Keble's words--'If ever
floating from faint earthly lyre,' &c. (Sixth after Trin.). [Footnote:
Compare a letter of Dr. Newman's to J. R. Hope in 1852. See _ante_, p.
143.]

It has been a trouble to me that his works seemed to be so forgotten now.
Our boys know very little about them. I think F. Ambrose had to give a
prize for getting up 'Kenilworth.' Your letter to Gladstone sadly confirms
it. I wonder whether there will ever be a crisis and correction of the
evil? It arises from the facilities of publication. Every season bears its
own crop of books, and every fresh season ousts the foregoing. Books are
all annuals; and, to revive Scott, you must annihilate the existing
generation of writers, which is legion. If it so fares with Scott, still
more does it so fare with Johnson, Addison, Pope, and Shakespeare. Perhaps
the competitive examinations may come to the aid. You should get Gladstone
to bring about a list of classics, and force them upon candidates. I do not
see any other way of mending matters. I wish I heard a better account of
you.

Ever yours affectionately,

JOHN H. NEWMAN.

During all this time Mr. Hope-Scott's health continued steadily to fail;
yet he suffered rather from malaise than from any acute symptoms. Now and
then there were gleams in which he seemed better for a space, but they were
but as the flickerings of the flame in the socket. In March 1872
Bournemouth was tried. In the summer of that year he was in Scotland, and
in July had the great happiness of receiving a visit of about a fortnight
from Dr. Newman at Abbotsford, which revived the memories of twenty years--
for so long was the interval since his former visit. This, I suppose, was
the last occasion of Mr. Hope-Scott's entertaining guests. He was able to
move about quietly; old times were gently talked over, and there was
nothing to show that the great separation was very imminent. It was even
possible, the doctors had told him when the disease was first apparent, to
linger under it for twenty years. Thus the last days at Abbotsford looked
as if lit up by the setting sun. He fell off, however, a day or two after
Dr. Newman left; went first to Luffness, and in October, whilst staying in
Edinburgh, the heart affection becoming worse, he seemed, for a time, in
immediate danger; yet rallied, and removed to London by easy stages,
halting first at Newcastle and then at Peterborough. Owing to the
thoughtful kindness of Mr. H. Hope, of Luffness, he was accompanied by Dr.
Howden, the family physician at Luffness. It was, however, a most anxious
journey, and it often seemed doubtful whether he would reach his
destination alive. Soon after his arrival in London he had a dangerous
attack, and received the last sacraments, with the Holy Father's blessing.
This was at No. 7 Hyde Park Place, a house which he had taken conjointly
with his widowed sister-in-law, the Hon. Mrs. G. W. Hope; and here, under
her affectionate care, and that of his daughter, Mary Monica, Mr. Hope-
Scott spent the few months that remained to him.

Miss Hope-Scott (now the Hon. Mrs. Maxwell Scott), during those months,
kept a diary, commencing March 13, 1873, of all that passed, which she has
kindly placed in my hands. At first the entries were usually of 'a good
night,' and 'tired,' or 'very tired,' during the day, though he is
occasionally able to go into the library, to talk a little with his infant
children in their turns, and to see near relatives from time to time. Soon
the nights get less good, the days more languid, and he is seldom able to
leave his room. For about a fortnight (April 4-17) there seemed a slight
improvement, but this did not last, and on April 28 there was a great
change for the worse. Sir W. Jenner, Sir W. Gull, and Mr. Sims held a
consultation, and pronounced very unfavourably. Father Clare, S. J.,
brought the Blessed Sacrament, and spent the night in the house. The
following morning, Tuesday, April 29, he heard his confession, and gave him
Holy Communion. It was the morning on which he usually received. The two
physicians hesitated about Extreme Unction being administered, for fear of
causing excitement. But, on the priest's asking him what he wished, the
reply at once was, 'Dear Father, give me all you can, and all the helps
which Holy Church can bestow.' During the administration of the sacrament
he answered all the prayers himself; and the physicians, on leaving the
room, said there had not been the least excitement. I take these
particulars from a letter of Father Clare's to the Hon. Mrs. Maxwell Scott,
in which he also says: 'During the whole of his illness I never knew him to
show the slightest impatience, I never heard one murmur; but in all our
conversation there was _invariably_ a cheerful resignation to the holy
will of our good God. His lively faith and wonderful fervour in receiving
Holy Communion, which was at least twice a week, I have never seen
surpassed.'

The Duke of Norfolk was telegraphed for from Arundel. He arrived about 2
P.M. Mr. Hope-Scott was able to see him, spoke of the blessing which his
church would bring on him (the splendid church of St. Philip's, Arundel,
just completed by the Duke), and promised to pray for him the next day,
when it was to be opened. Sir William Gull now left hardly any hope. The
ceremony of the opening of the church was deferred, and all the Arundel
party arrived that night. The following is the last paragraph in the
diary:--

'In the afternoon, dear papa, after taking something, said out loud his
favourite prayer, "_Fiat, laudetur_." [Footnote: This prayer is as
follows: _Fiat, laudetur, atque in æternum superexultetur, justissima,
altissima, et amabilissima voluntas Dei in omnibus. Amen._] Then,
looking at me, he said, "God's will be done," and asked me to say some
prayers. I said the _Angelus_, in which he joined, and the "Offering."
Father Clare comes about five, and goes out, to return about seven, meaning
to spend the night again. A little before seven I was in the library with
Aunt Lucy and Uncle Henry. Aunt Car. suddenly called me, and we all went
in. I gave dearest papa the crucifix to kiss, and Uncle Henry read the
prayers. Edward [Footnote: The persons mentioned by their Christian names
in this paragraph of the diary are--Lady Henry Kerr, Lord Henry Kerr, the
Hon. Mrs. G. W. Hope, and her son, Mr. Edward Stanley Hope, nephew to Mr.
Hope-Scott, and now (1883) one of the Charity Commissioners for England and
Wales.] was there too, Mr. Dunn, &c.

'He died very peacefully and calmly, about seven.'

To this is only to be added that there was conveyed to Mr. Hope-Scott on
his death-bed the special blessing of his Holiness Pope Pius IX.

Shortly after death, the body having been laid out, according to Catholic
custom, with lights round the bed and flowers upon it, a sudden change was
observed to have come over the face of the deceased, which assumed a
totally different expression. All signs of sickness or pain seemed to
vanish, and in one minute he had become like what he used to be in very
early years. Readers who may perhaps have witnessed a change of the kind,
which is not unfrequent, will understand the striking remark made by a
friend on this occasion: 'It is sometimes given to the dead to reveal their
blessedness to the living.'

The following particulars of the Requiem Mass for Mr. Hope-Scott, and of
the funeral, are taken, with alterations and omissions, from newspapers of
the day (the 'Tablet' of May 10; 'Scotsman,' May 6 and 8; and 'Edinburgh
Courant,' May 8, 1873).

The Requiem Mass for the repose of the soul of the late Mr. Hope-Scott,
Q.C., took place at the Church of the Immaculate Conception, Farm Street,
on Monday, May 5, at eleven o'clock. The coffin was removed, on the
previous evening, from Hyde Park Place, and laid on a splendid catafalque
in the church. The mass was celebrated by the Very Rev. Fr. Whitty,
Provincial of the Jesuits, _coram Archiepiscopo_; and the sermon was
preached by the Very Rev. Father (now his Eminence Cardinal) Newman (by
whose kind permission it is placed in the Appendix to this volume).
Cherubini's Second Requiem in D minor, for male voices only, was used. Weak
with old age and sorrow, Father Newman had almost to be led to the pulpit,
but the simple vigour of language and the lucidity of style so peculiarly
his own remained what they had ever been. When, towards the conclusion of
his discourse, he came to speak of the last hours of the deceased, Father
Newman almost broke down, and for a moment it seemed that his feelings
would prevent him from finishing. The solemnity of the occasion--the church
draped in black, the old man come so far purposely to pay the last offices
to his friend--produced such an impression on those who witnessed it as
they are not likely to forget.

Among the clergy and laity present were--Mgr. Weld, the Hon. and Rev. Dr.
Talbot, Revs. E. G. Macmullen, C. B. Garside, Father Fitzsimon, S. J.,
Father Clare, and the Fathers, S. J., of Mount Street; Father Coleridge, S.
J., Father Amherst, S. J., Father Christie, S. J., Father Dalgairns, of the
Oratory, the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, the
Marquis and Marchioness of Lothian, Cecil, Marchioness Dowager of Lothian,
the Marchioness of Bute, Lord and Lady Howard of Glossop, Lord Henry Kerr,
Mr. Hope of Luffness, Mr. Edward S. Hope, Mr. Herbert Hope, Field-marshal
Sir William Gomm and Lady Gomm, Lord Edmund Howard, the Earl of Denbigh,
Lady Herbert of Lea, Lady Georgiana Fullerton, Mr. Allies, Mr. Langdale,
&c.

The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk and the Ladies Howard, Mr. Hope-Scott's
daughters, the Hon. Mrs. George W. Hope and Misses Hope, and Lady Henry
Kerr, occupied a separate tribune.

On Wednesday, May 7, the remains of Mr. Hope-Scott, Q.C., were interred in
the vaults of St. Margaret's Convent, Bruntsfield, Edinburgh. The coffin
had been conveyed from London on Tuesday, and was placed on a catafalque
within the choir of the chapel, where several sisters of the community
(Ursulines of Jesus) watched until the morning. The catafalque was draped
in black, surrounded by massive silver candlesticks hung with crape, and
lit up with numerous wax candles. The altar, sanctuary, organ, and choir
gallery were hung with black cloth. The east aisle of the chapel was
occupied by the relatives and friends of the deceased; the west aisle by
the young ladies of the convent school, about fifty in number, dressed in
white, and with white veils, and the household servants from Abbotsford;
whilst at the south were persons who had received special invitations. In
the stalls of the choir were the clergy, and the sisters of the convent in
their accustomed places.

The ceremonies commenced at eleven o'clock, when a procession, consisting
of the cross-bearer and acolytes, the clergy in attendance, and the Right
Rev. Dr. Strain, Bishop of Abila, V.A. of the Eastern District of Scotland,
entered the chapel at the great south door, and marched slowly up the
centre of the choir to the sanctuary, the organ sounding whilst the bell
was heard tolling in the distance. The Bishop was attended by the Rev.
George Rigg, St. Mary's, and the Rev. Mr. Clapperton. The Rev. W. Turner
acted as master of the ceremonies; the Rev. Father Foxwell, S. J., said the
Mass, which, by the express desire of the deceased, was a Low Mass,
although accompanied by music (Father Foxwell, stationed at Galashiels,
frequently said Mass at Abbotsford). During the Mass, among other exquisite
music sung by the choir, was the _Dies Irae_. The Rev. W. J. Amherst,
S. J., Norwich, a great personal friend of Mr. Hope-Scott's, preached the
sermon (which, by his kind permission, is placed in the Appendix to this
volume).

Bishop Strain then read the Burial Service in front of the bier, and
concluded by giving the absolution. The procession was then formed, and
during the singing of the _Dies Irae_ emerged from the church, and
walked to the vault, in the following order:--cross-bearer and acolytes,
the young ladies of the convent school, the _religieuses_ of the
community of St. Margaret's, the clergy and Bishop, then the coffin, borne
shoulder-high, and attended by the pall-bearers, the Duke of Norfolk, Lord
Henry Kerr, Mr. H. W. Hope of Luffness, and Dr. Lockhart of Milton
Lockhart. The ladies who followed the coffin were Miss Hope-Scott, the Hon.
Mrs. G. W. Hope, Lady Henry Kerr, and Mrs. Francis Kerr. Then followed the
relatives and friends, servants, and tenant-farmers of Abbotsford.

The procession marched slowly from the quadrangle in front of the chapel
northwards to the entrance to the vaults, the sisters of the community
chanting the psalm _Miserere_. It opened up at the mortuary door, and
the coffin was borne into the vault, and placed in the recess assigned to
it beside the coffin of his first wife, and under those of his two
children. A short service here took place, the _Benedictus_ was sung,
and the funeral service terminated.

The outer coffin, which was of richly polished oak, bound with brass
ornaments, had a beautiful crucifix on the lid, and beneath, a shield,
bearing the following inscription:--

'JAMES EGBERT HOPE-SCOTT, THIRD SON OF GENERAL
SIR ALEXANDER HOPE, OF LUFFNESS AND RANKEILLOUR. BORN JULY 15, 1812. DIED
APRIL 29, 1873. MAY HE REST IN PEACE.'

I have now placed before the reader the materials from which he will be
enabled in some measure to judge what Mr. Hope-Scott was, and how he
appeared to those around him. But to all beauty of character there belongs
a lustre, outside of and beyond it, which genius alone can portray. This
task has fortunately been performed by two of his most intimate friends, of
whose genius it is needless to say a word--Cardinal Newman and Mr.
Gladstone--by whose kind permission their respective papers on his life
will be appended to this volume. With reference to certain expressions on
religious subjects in Mr. Gladstone's Letter, it will be remembered that it
here appears as a biographical and historical document, and therefore
without omissions--a remark which I feel assured that the illustrious
writer will not misinterpret, and that both will accept the gratitude and
admiration due from all surviving friends of Mr. Hope-Scott, for the
splendid tribute which each of them has given to a memory so dear.

APPENDIX I.

_Funeral Sermon by his Eminence Cardinal Newman, preached at the Requiem
Mass for Mr. Hope-Scott, at the Church of the Immaculate Conception, Farm
Street, May_ 5, 1873.

I have been asked by those whose wish at such a moment is a command, to say
a few words on the subject of the sorrowful, the joyful solemnity which has
this morning brought us together. A few words are all that is necessary,
all that is possible; just so many as are sufficient to unite the separate
thoughts, the separate memories, the separate stirrings of affection, which
are awakened in us by the presence in our midst of what remains on earth of
the dear friend, of the great soul, whom we have lost,--sufficient to open
a communication and create a sympathy between mind and mind, and to be a
sort of testimony of one to another in behalf of feelings which each of us
has in common with all.

Yet how am I the fit person even for as much as this? I can do no more than
touch upon some of those many points which the thought of him suggests to
me; and, whatever I may know of him and say of him, how can this be taken
as the measure of one whose mind had so many aspects, and who must, in
consequence, have made such distinct impressions, and exercised such
various claims, on the hearts of those who came near him?

It is plain, without my saying it, that there are those who knew him far
better than I could know him. How can I be the interpreter of their
knowledge or their feelings? How can I hope by any words of mine to do a
service to those who knew so well the depths of his rare excellence by a
continuous daily intercourse with him, and by the recurring special
opportunities given to them of its manifestation?

I only know what he was to me. I only know what his loss is to me. I only
know that he is one of those whose departure hence has made the heavens
dark to me. But I have never lived with him, or travelled with him; I have
seen him from time to time; I have visited him; I have corresponded with
him; I have had mutual confidences with him. Our lines of duty have lain in
very different directions. I have known him as a friend knows friend in the
tumult and the hurry of life. I have known him well enough to know how much
more there was to know in him; and to look forward, alas! in vain, to a
time when, in the evening and towards the close of life, I might know him
more. I have known him enough to love him very much, and to sorrow very
much that here I shall not see him again. But then I reflect, if I, who did
not know him as he might be known, suffer as I do, what must be their
suffering who knew him so well?

1. I knew him first, I suppose, in 1837 or 1838, thirty-five or six years
ago, a few years after he had become Fellow of Merton College. He expressed
a wish to know me. How our friendship grew I cannot tell; I must soon have
been intimate with him, from the recollection I have of letters which
passed between us; and by 1841 I had recourse to him, as a sort of natural
adviser, when I was in difficulty. From that time I ever had recourse to
him, when I needed advice, down to his last illness. On my first intimacy
with him he had not reached the age of thirty. I was many years older; yet
he had that about him, even when a young man, which invited and inspired
confidence. It was difficult to resist his very presence. True, indeed, I
can fancy those who saw him but once and at a distance, surprised and
perplexed by that lofty fastidiousness and keen wit which were natural to
him; but such a misapprehension of him would vanish forthwith when they
drew near to him, and had actual trial of him; especially, as I have said,
when they had to consult him, and had experience of the simplicity,
seriousness, and (I can use no other word) the sweetness of his manner, as
he threw himself at once into their ideas and feelings, listened patiently
to them, and spoke out the clear judgment which he formed of the matters
which they had put before him.

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