he while, not without some craven
shrinkings, that having got to the end, in the journey of life, of one
very definite stage, with its peculiar scenery and sets of objects, I
was just on the eve of entering upon another stage, in which the scenery
and objects would be all unfamiliar and new. I was now two years turned
of thirty; and though I could not hold that any very great amount of
natural endowment was essentially necessary to the bank accountant, I
knew that most men turned of thirty might in vain attempt acquiring the
ability even of heading a pin with the necessary adroitness, and that I
might fail, on the same principle, to pass muster as an accountant. I
determined, however, obstinately to set myself to acquire, whatever
might be the result; and entered Edinburgh in something like spirits on
the strength of the resolution. I had transmitted the manuscript of my
legendary work, several months before, to Sir Thomas Dick Lauder; and as
he was now on terms, in its behalf, with Mr. Adam Black, the well-known
publisher, I took the liberty of waiting on him, to see how the
negotiation was speeding. He received me with great kindness; hospitably
urged that I should live with him, so long as I resided in Edinburgh, in
his noble mansion, the Grange House; and, as an inducement, introduced
me to his library, full charged with the best editions of the best
authors, and enriched with many a rare volume and curious manuscript.
"Here," he said, "Robertson the historian penned his last work--the
_Disquisition_; and here," opening the door of an adjoining room, "he
died." I, of course, declined the invitation. The Grange House, with its
books, and its pictures, and its hospitable master, so rich in anecdote,
and so full of the literary sympathies, would have been no place for a
poor pupil-accountant, too sure that he was to be stupid, but not the
less determined on being busy. Besides, on calling immediately after at
the bank, I found that I would have to quit Edinburgh on the morrow for
some country agency, in which I might be initiated into the system of
book-keeping proper to a branch bank and where the business transacted
would be of a kind similar to what might be expected in Cromarty. Sir
Thomas, however, kindly got Mr. Black to meet me at dinner; and, in the
course of the evening, that enterprising bookseller agreed to undertake
the publication of my work, on terms which the nameless author of a
volume somewhat local in i