'I happened by chance when in this mood [melancholy], to open "The Lady of the Lake", and I thought, as I read it, so long as there were such sublime poems in the world to elevate and abstract the mind, that I could never be quite unhappy in any situation. There are so many interests and pleasures independent of the world! Everybody must be disappointed that the heroine's lover is nothing, and derives no interest from any circumstances except in being the object of her love; and I was sorry Fitz-James kills Roderick. Fitz-James, perhaps, could not help it, but Walter Scott could. It gives an uneasy sensation'.