worn-out tatters was the staple article then, it It would be difficult to name two books which may be granted that Scott's excellence was have exercised a deeper influence on the subsuperior and supreme. When a Hayley was sequent literature of Europe than these two the main singer, a Scott might well be hailed performances of a young author; his firstwith warm welcome. Consider whether the fruits, the produce of his twenty-fourth year. Loves of the Plants, and even the Loves of the Werter appeared to seize the hearts of men in triangles, could be worth the loves and hates all quarters of the world, and to utter for them of men and women! Scott was as preferable the word which they had long been waiting to to what he displaced, as the substance is to hear. As usually happens, too, this same wearisomely repeated shadow of a substance. word, once uttered, was soon abundantly reBut, in the second place, we may say that peated; spoken in all dialects, and chaunted the kind of worth which Scott manifested through all notes of the gamut, till the sound was fitted especially for the then temper of of it had grown a weariness rather than a men. We have called it an age fallen into pleasure. Skeptical sentimentality, view-huntspiritual languor, destitute of belief, yet terri- ing, love, friendship, suicide, and desperation, fied at skepticism; reduced to live a stinted became the staple of literary ware; and half-life, under strange new circumstances. though the epidemic, after a long course of Now vigorous whole-life, this was what of all years, subsided in Germany, it reappeared things these delineations offered. The reader with various modifications in other countries, was carried back to rough strong times, where- and everywhere abundant traces of its good in those maladies of ours had not yet arisen. and bad effects are still to be discerned. The Brawny fighters, all cased in buff and iron, fortune of Berlichingen with the Iron Hand, their hearts too sheathed in oak and triple though less sudden, was by no means less brass, caprioled their huge war-horses, shook exalted. In his own country, Götz, though he their death-doing spears; and went forth in now stands solitary and childless, became the the most determined manner, nothing doubt-parent of an innumerable progeny of chivalry ing. The reader sighed, yet not without a reflex solacement: "O, that I could have lived in those times, had never known these logiccobwebs, this doubt, this sickliness; and been and felt myself alive among men alive!" Add lastly, that in this new-found poetic world there was no call for effort on the reader's part; what excellence they had, exhibited itself at a glance. It was for the reader, not the El Dorado only, but a beatific land of a Cockaigne and Paradise of Donothings! The reader, what the vast majority of readers so long to do, was allowed to lie down at his ease, and be ministered to. What the Turkish bathkeeper is said to aim at with his frictions, and shampooings, and fomentings, more or less effectually, that the patient in total idleness may have the delights of activity, was here to a considerable extent realized. The languid imagination fell back into its rest; an artist was there who could supply it with highpainted scenes, with sequences of stirring action, and whisper to it, Be at ease, and let thy tepid element be comfortable to thee. "The rude man," says the critic, "requires only to see something going on. The man of more refinement must be made to feel. The man of complete refinement must be made to reflect."

We named the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border" the fountain from which flowed this great river of Metrical Romances; but according to some they can be traced to a still higher, obscurer spring; to Goethe's "Götz von Berlichingen with the Iron Hand;" of which, as we have seen, Scott in his earlier days executed a translation. Dated a good many years ago, the following words in a criticism on Goethe are found written; which probably are still new to most readers of this Review:

"The works just mentioned, Götz and Werter, though noble specimens of youthful talent, are still not so much distinguished by their intrinsic merits as by their splendid fortune.

plays, feudal delineations, and poetico-antiquarian performances: which, though long ago deceased, made noise enough in their day and generation: and with ourselves his influence has been perhaps still more remarkable. Sir Walter Scott's first literary enterprise was a translation of Göz von Berlichingen: and, if genius could be communicated like instruction, we might call this work of Goethe's the prime cause of Marmion and the Lady of the Lake, with all that has followed from the same creative hand. Truly, a grain of seed that has lighted in the right soil! For if not firmer and fairer, it has grown to be taller and broader than any other tree; and all the nations of the earth are still yearly gathering of its fruit."

How far "Götz von Berlichingen" actually affected Scott's literary destination, and whether without it the rhymed romances, and then the prose romances of the Author of Waverly, would not have followed as they did, must remain a very obscure question; obscure, and not important. Of the fact, however, there is no doubt but these two tendencies, which may be named Cötzism and Werterism, of the former of which Scott was representative with us, have made, and are still in some quarters making the tour of all Europe. In Germany, too, there was this affectionate half-regretful looking back into the past; Germany had its buff-belted watchtower period in literature, and had even got done with it, before Scott began. Then as to Werterism, had not we English our Byron and his genius? No form of Werterism in any other country had half the potency: as our Scott carried chivalry literature to the ends of the world, so did our Byron Werterism. France, busy with its Revolution and Napoleon, had little leisure at the moment for Götzism or Werterism; but it has had them both since, in a shape of its own: witness he whole "Literature of Desperation" in our own days, the beggarliest form of Werterism

yet seen, probably its expiring final form: witness also, at the other extremity of the scale, a noble-gifted Chateaubriand, Götz and Werter, both in one.-Curious: how all Europe is but like a set of parishes of the same county participant of the self-same influences, ever since the Crusades, and earlier;and these glorious wars of ours are but like parish-brawls, which begin in mutual ignorance, intoxication, and boastful speech: which end in broken windows, damage, waste, and bloody noses; and which one hopes the general good sense is now in the way towards putting down, in some measure!

whole cornucopia of wealth, honour, and worldly good; the favourite of Princes and of Peasants, and all intermediate men. His "Waverly series," swift-following one on the other apparently without end, was the universal reading, looked for like an annual harvest, by all ranks in all European countries. A curious circumstance superadded itself, that the author though known was unknown. From the first, most people suspected, and soon after the first few intelligent persons much doubted, that the Author of " Waverly" was Walter Scott. Yet a certain mystery was still kept up; rather piquant to the public; doubtless very pleasant But, however, leaving this to be as it can, to the author, who saw it all; who probably what it concerned us here to remark was, that had not to listen, as other hapless individuals British Werterism, in the shape of those Byron often had, to this or the other long-drawn “clear Poems, so potent and poignant, produced on the proof at last," that the author was not Walter languid appetite of men a mighty effect. This Scott, but a certain astonishing Mr. So-and-so; too was a "class of feelings deeply important -one of the standing miseries of human life to modern minds; feelings which arise from in that time. But for the privileged author, it passion incapable of being converted into action, was like a king travelling incognito. All men which belong to an age as indolent, cultivated, know that he is a high king, chivalrous Gustaf and unbelieving as our own!" The "languid or Kaiser Joseph; but he mingles in their age without either faith or skepticism" turned meetings without cumber of etiquette or lonetowards Byronism with an interest altogether some ceremony, as Chevalier du Nord, or Count peculiar: here, if no cure for its miserable of Lorraine: he has none of the weariness of paralysis and languor, was at least an indig- royalty, and yet all the praise, and the satisfacnant statement of the misery; an indignant tion of hearing it with his own ears. In a word, Ernulphus' curse read over it,-which all the Waverly Novels circulated and reigned men felt to be something. Half-regretful look- triumphant; to the general imagination the ings into the Past gave place, in many quar-"Author of Waverly'" was like some living ters, to Ernulphus' cursings of the Present. mythological personage, and ranked among the Scott was among the first to perceive that the chief wonders of the world. day of Metrical Chivalry Romances was declining. He had held the sovereignty for some half-score of years, a comparatively long lease of it; and now the time seemed come for dethronement, for abdication; an unpleasant business which however he held himself ready, as a brave man will, to transact with composure and in silence. After all, Poetry was not his staff of life; Poetry had already yielded him much money; this at least it would not take back from him. Busy always with editing, with compiling, with multiplex official, commercial business, and solid interests, he beheld the coming change with unmoved eye.

Resignation he was prepared to exhibit in this matter;-and now behold there proved to be no need of resignation. Let the Metrical Romance become a Prose one; shake off its rhyme-fetters, and try a wider sweep! In the spring of 1814 appeared" Waverly;" an event memorable in the annals of British literature; in the annals of British book-selling thrice and four times memorable. Byron sang, but Scott narrated; and when the song had sung itself out through all variations onwards to the "DonJuan" one, Scott was still found narrating, and carrying the whole world along with him. All bygone popularity of chivalry lays was swallowed up in a far greater. What "series" followed out of" Waverly," and how and with what result, is known to all men; was witnessed and watched with a kind of rapt astonishment by all. Hardly any literary reputation ever rose so high ir our Island; no reputation at all ever spread so wide. Walter Scott became Sir Walter Scott, Baronet, of Abbotsford; en whom fortune seemed to pour her

How a man lived and demeaned himself in such unwonted circumstances is worth seeing We would gladly quote from Scott's correspondence of this period; but that does not much illustrate the matter. His letters, as above stated, are never without interest, yet also seldom or never very interesting. They are full of cheerfulness, of wit, and ingenuity; but they do not treat of aught intimate; without impeaching their sincerity, what is called sincerity, one may say they do not, in any case whatever, proceed from the innermost parts of the mind. Conventional forms, due considerations of your own and your correspondent's pretensions and vanities, are at no moment left out of view. The epistolary stream runs on, lucid, free, glad-flowing; but always, as it were parallel to the real substance of the matter, never coincident with it. One feels it hollowish under foot. Letters they are of a most humane man of the world, even exemplary in that kind! but with the man of the world always visible to them;-as indeed it was little in Scott's way to speak perhaps even with himself in any other fashion. We select rather some glimpses of him from Mr. Lockhart's record The first is of dining with Royalty or Prince Regentship itself; an almost official matter:

"On hearing from Mr. Croker (then Secre tary to the Admirality) that Scott was to be in town by the middle of March, (1815,) the Prince said-Let me know when he comes, and I'll get up a snug little dinner that will suit him;' and, after he had been presented and graciously received at the levee, he was invited to dinner accordingly, through his excellent friend Mr. Adam, (now Lord Chief Commissioner of the

"The table spread with tea and toast,

Death-warrants and the Morning Post?'

he again dined at Carlton House, when the party was a still smaller one than before, and nothing might be wanting, the Prince sang the merriment if possible still more free. That several capital songs."-Vol. iii. pp. 340-343.

Jury Court in Scotland,) who at that time held a confidential office in the royal household. The Regent had consulted with Mr. Adam also "Towards midnight, the Prince called for as to the composition of the party. Let us a bumper, with all the honours, to the Author have,' said he, just a few friends of his own, of Waverley; and looked significantly, as he and the more Scorch the better;' and both the Commissioner and Mr. Croker assure me that seemed somewhat puzzled for a moment, but was charging his own glass, to Scott. Scott the party was the most interesting and agreea- instantly recovering himself, and filling his ble one in their recollection. It comprised, I glass to the brim, said, 'Your Royal Highness believe, the Duke of York-the Duke of Gor- looks as if you thought I had some claim to don (then Marquess of Huntly)-the Marquess the honours of this toast. I have no such preof Hertford (then Lord Yarmouth)-the Earl tensions, but shall take good care that the real of Fife-and Scott's early friend Lord Melville. Simon Pure hears of the high compliment that "The Prince and Scott,' says Mr. Croker,' were has now been paid him.' He then drank off the two most brilliant story-tellers, in their his claret; and joined with a stentorian voice several ways, that I have ever happened to in the cheering, which the Prince himself meet; they were both aware of their forte, and timed. But before the company could resume both exerted themselves that evening with de- their seats his Royal Highness, Another of lightful effect. On going home, I really could the same, if you please, to the Author of Marnot decide which of them had shone the most.(!) mion,-and now, Walter, my man, I have The Regent was enchanted with Scott, as Scott checkmated you for ance. The second bumper was with him; and on all his subsequent visits was followed by cheers still more prolonged: to London, he was a frequent guest at the royal and Scott then rose, and returned thanks in a tab: The Lord Chief Commissioner remem- short address, which struck the Lord Chief bers that the Prince was particularly delighted Commissioner as alike grave and graceful.' with the poet's anecdotes of the old Scotch This story has been circulated in a very perjudges and lawyers, which his Royal Highness verted shape." "Before he left town sometimes capped by ludicrous traits of certain ermined sages of his own acquaintance. Scott told, among others, a story, which he was fond of telling, of his old friend the Lord JusticeClerk Braxfield; and the commentary of his Royal Highness on hearing it amused Scott, Or take, at a very great interval in many who often mentioned it afterwards. The anec- senses, this glimpse of another dinner, altodote is this:-Braxfield, whenever he went on gether unofficially and much better described. a particular circuit, was in the habit of visiting It is James Ballantyne the printer and publisha gentleman of good fortune in the neighbour-er's dinner, in Saint-John Street, Canongate, hood of one of the assize towns, and staying Edinburgh, on the birtheve of a Waverley at least one night, which, being both of them Novel: ardent chess-players, they usually concluded with their favourite game. One Spring circuit the battle was not decided at daybreak; so the Justice-Clerk said,- Weel, Donald; I must e'en come back this gate, and let the game lie ower for the present; and back he came in October, but not to his old friend's hospitable house; for that gentleman had in the interim been apprehended on a capital charge, (of forgery,) and his name stood on the Porteous Roll, or list of those who were about to be tried under his former guest's auspices. The laird was indicted and tried accordingly, and the jury returned a verdict of guilly. Braxfield forthwith put on his cocked hat, (which answers to the black cap in England,) and pronounced the sentence of the law in the usual terms-To be hanged by the neck until you be dead; and may the Lord have mercy upon your unhappy soul! Having concluded this awful formula in his most sonorous cadence, Braxfield, dismounting his formidable beaver, gave a familiar nod to his unfortunate acquaintance, and said to him in a sort of chuckling whisper-And now Donald, my man, I think I've checkmated you for ance.' The Regent laughed heartily at this specimen of Macqueen's brutal humour; and 'I'faith, Walter,' said he, this old big-wig seems to have taken things as coolly as my tyrannical self. Don't you remember Tom Moore's description of me a breakfast

"The feast was, to use one of James's own

favorite epithets, gorgeous; an aldermanic display of turtle and venison, with the suitable accompaniments of iced punch, potent ale, and generous Madeira. When the cloth was drawn, the burly præses arose, with all he could mus ter of the port of John Kemble, and spouted with a sonorous voice the formula of Mac

beth

'Fill full!

I drink to the general joy of the whole table!' This was followed by The King, God bless him!' and second came- Gentlemen, there is another toast which never has been nor shall be omitted in this house of mine: I give you the health of Mr. Walter Scott, with three times three! All honour having been done to this health, and Scott having briefly thanked the company, with some expressions of warm affection to their host, Mrs. Ballantyne retired;

the bottles passed round twice or thrice in the usual way; and then James rose once more, every vein on his brow distended: his eyes solemnly fixed on vacancy, to propose, not as before in his stentorian key, but with 'bated breath,' in the sort of whisper by which a stage conspirator thrills the gallery—' Gentlemen, a bumper to the immortal Author of Waverley!'-The uproar of cheering, in which Scott made a fashion of joining, was succeeded by deep silence; and then Ballantyne proceeded

term. Upon such occasions, Scott appeared at the usual hour in Court, but wearing, instead of the official suit of black, his country morning-dress, green jacket, and so forth, under the clerk's gown."-"At noon, when the Court broke up, Peter Mathieson was sure to be in attendance in the Parliament Close; and, five minutes after, the gown had been tossed off; and Scott, rubbing his hands for glee, was under weigh for Tweedside. As we proceeded," &c.

'In his Lord-Burleigh look, serene and serious, A something of imposing and mysterious'— to lament the obscurity in which his illustrious but too modest correspondent still chose to conceal himself from the plaudits of the world; to thank the company for the manner in which the nominis umbra had been received; and to assure them that the Author of Waverley' would, when informed of the circumstance, feel highly delighted the proudest hour of his life,' &c. &c. The cool, demure fun of Scott's features during all this mummery was “Next morning there appeared at breakfast perfect; and Erskine's attempt at a gay non-John Ballantyne, who had at this time a shootchalance was still more ludicrously meritorious. ing or hunting-box a few miles off, in the vale Aldiborontiphoscophornio, however, bursting of the Leader, and with him Mr. Constable, his as he was, knew too well to allow the new guest; and it being a fine clear day, as soon Novel to be made the subject of discussion. as Scott had read the church service and one Its name was announced, and success to it of Jeremy Taylor's sermons, we all sallied out crowned another cup; but after that, no more before noon on a perambulation of his upland of Jedediah. To cut the thread, he rolled out territories; Maida (the hound) and the rest of unbidden some one of his many theatrical the favourites accompanying our march. At songs, in a style that would have done no dis- starting we were joined by the constant benchhonour to almost any orchestra-The Maid of man, Tom Purdie,—and I may save myself Lodi, or perhaps The Bay of Biscay, oh!-or the trouble of any attempt to describe his apThe sweet little cherub that sits up aloft. Other pearance, for his master has given us an toasts followed, interspersed with ditties from inimitably true one in introducing a certain other performers; old George Thomson, the personage of his Redgauntlet:-'He was, perfriend of Burns, was ready, for one, with The haps, sixty years old; yet his brow was not Moorland Wedding, or Willie brew'd a peck o' much furrowed, and his jet-black hair was maut ;-and so it went on, until Scott and Ers-only grizzled, not whitened, by the advance of kine, with any clerical or very staid personage that had chanced to be admitted, saw fit to withdraw. Then the scene was changed. The claret and olives made way for broiled bones and a mighty bowl of punch; and when a few glasses of the hot beverage had restored his powers, James opened ore rotundo on the merits of the forthcoming romance. One chapterone chapter only!' was the cry. After Nay, by'r Lady, nay!' and a few more coy shifts, the proof-sheets were at length produced, and James, with many a prefatory hem, read aloud what he considered as the most striking dialogue they contained.

"The first I heard so read was the interview between Jeanie Deans, the Duke of Argyle, and Queen Caroline, in Richmond Park; and, notwithstanding some spice of the pompous tricks to which he was addicted, I must say he did the inimitable scene great justice. At all events, the effect it produced was deep and memorable; and no wonder that the exulting typographer's one bumper more to Jedediah Cleishbotham preceded his parting-stave, which was uniformly The Last Words of Marmion, executed certainly with no contemptible rivalry of Braham."-Vol. iv. pp. 166-168.

Over at Abbotsford, things wear a still more prosperous aspect. Scott is building there, by the pleasant banks of the Tweed; he has bought and is buying land there; fast as the new gold comes in for a new Waverly Novel, or even faster, it changes itself into moory acres, into stone, and hewn or planted wood:

About the middle of February" (1820)says Mr. Lockhart, "it having been ere that ume arranged that I should marry his eldest daughter in the course of the spring-I accompanied him and part of his family on one of those flying visits to Abbotsford, with which he often indulged himself on a Saturday during

age. All his motions spoke strength unabated; and, though rather under-sized, he had very broad shoulders, was square made, thin-flanked, and apparently combined in his frame muscular strength and activity; the last somewhat impaired, perhaps, by years, but the first remaining in full vigour. A hard and harsh countenance; eyes far sunk under projecting eyebrows, which were grizzled like his hair; a wide mouth, furnished from ear to ear with a range of unimpaired teeth of uncommon whiteness, and a size and breadth which might have become the jaws of an ogre, completed this delightful portrait.' Equip this figure in Scott's cast-off green jacket, white hat, and drab trousers; and imagine that years of kind treatment, comfort, and the honest consequence of a confidential griere* had softened away much of the hardness and harshness originally impressed on the visage by anxious penury, and the sinister habits of a black-fisher-and the Tom Purdie of 1820 stands before us.

"We were all delighted to see how comple.ely Scott had recovered his bodily vigour, and none more so than Constable, who, as he puffed and panted after him, up one ravine and down another, often stopped to wipe his forehead, and remarked, that it was not every author who should lead him such a dance.' But Purdie's face shone with rapture as he observed how severely the swagbellied bookseller's activity was tasked. Scott exclaimed exultingly, though, perhaps, for the tenth time, 'This will be a glorious spring for our trees, Tom !'-You may say that, Sheriff,' quoth Tom,-and then lingering a moment for Constable- My certy,' he added, scratching his head, and I think it will be a grand

* Overseer; German, graf.

ings, were some hundreds of stories, some quaint, some pathetical."-" At breakfast today we had, as usual, some 150 stories-God knows how they came in."-"In any man so gifted—so qualified to take the loftiest, proudest

season for our buiks too.' But indeed Tom | Walter asked us if we had ever read Christaalways talked of our buiks as if they had been bel."-"Interspersed with these various readas regular products of the soil as our aits and our birks. Having threaded first the Hexilcleugh and then the Rhymer's Glen, we arrived at Huntly Burn, where the hospitality of the kind Weird sisters, as Scott called the Miss Fergusons, reanimated our exhausted biblio-line at the head of the literature, the taste, the poles, and gave them courage to extend their walk a little further down the same famous brook. Here there was a small cottage in a very sequestered situation," (named Chiefswood,)" by making some little additions to which Scott thought it might be converted into a suitable summer residence for his daughter and future son-in-law." "As we walked homeward, Scott, being a little fatigued, laid his left hand on Tom's shoulder, and leaned heavily for support, chatting to his Sunday pony,' as he called the affectionate fellow, just as freely as with the rest of the party; and Tom put in his word shrewdly and manfully, and grinned and grunted whenever the joke chanced to be within his apprehension. It was easy to see that his heart swelled within him from the moment the Sheriff got his collar in his gripe." -Vol. iv. p. 349, 353.

That Abbotsford became infested to a great degree with tourists, wonder-hunters, and all that fatal species of people, may be supposed. Solitary Ettrick saw itself populous: all paths were beaten with the feet and hoofs of an endless miscellany of pilgrims. As many as "sixteen parties" have arrived at Abbotsford in one day; male and female; peers, Socinian preachers, whatsoever was distinguished, whatsoever had love of distinction in it! Mr. Lockhart thinks there was no literary shrine ever so bepilgrimed, except Ferney in Voltaire's time, who, however, was not half so accessible. A fatal species! These are what Schiller calls" the flesh-flies;" buzzing swarms of bluebottles, who never fail where any taint of human glory or other corruptibility is in the wind. So has Nature decreed. Scott's healthiness, bodily and mental, his massive solidity of character, nowhere showed itself more decisively than in his manner of encountering this part of his fate. That his bluebottles were blue, and of the usual tone and quality, may be judged. Hear Captain Basil Hall, (in a very compressed state:)

imagination of the whole world!"-" For instance, he never sits at any particular place at table, but takes," &c., &c.—Vol. v. p. 375-402. Among such worshippers, arriving in "six teen parties a-day," an ordinary man migh have grown buoyant; have felt the god, begun to nod, and seemed to shake the spheres. A slightly splenetic man, possessed of Scott's sense, would have swept his premises clear of them: Let no bluebottle approach here, to disturb a man in his work,-under pain of sugared squash (called quassia) and king's yellow! The good Sir Walter, like a quiet brave man, did neither. He let the matter take its course; enjoyed what was enjoyable in it: endured what could not well be helped; persisted meanwhile in writing his daily portion of romance-copy, in preserving his composure of heart;-in a word, accommodated himself to this loud-buzzing environment, and made it serve him, as he would have done (perhaps with more ease) to a silent, poor, and solitary one. No doubt it affected him too, and in the lamentablest way fevered his internal life,though he kept it well down; but it affected him less than it would have done almost any other man. For his guests were not all of the bluebottle sort; far from that. Mr. Lockhart shall furnish us with the brightest aspect a British Ferney ever yielded, or is like to yield: and therewith we will quit Abbotsford and the dominant and culminant period of Scott's life:

"It was a clear, bright, September morning, with a sharpness in the air that doubled the animating influence of the sunshine, and all was in readiness for a grand coursing match on Newark Hill. The only guest who had chalked out other sport for himself was the stanchest of anglers, Mr. Rose; but he, too was there on his shelty, armed with his salmon rod and landing-net, and attended by his Hinves, and Charlie Purdie, a brother of Tom, in those days the most celebrated fisherman "We arrived in good time, and found several of the district. This little group of Waltonians, other guests at dinner. The public rooms are bound for Lord Somerville's preserve, relighted with oil-gas, in a style of extraordinary mained lounging about to witness the start of splendour. The," &c.—“Had I a hundred pens, the main cavalcade. Sir Walter, mounted on each of which at the same time should sepa- Sibyl, was marshalling the order of procession rately write down an anecdote, I could not with a huge hunting-whip; and among a hope to record one-half of those which our dozen frolicsome youths and maidens, who host, to use Spenser's expression, 'welled out seemed disposed to laugh at all discipline, apalway."-"Entertained us all the way with an peared, each on horseback, each as eager endless string of anecdotes;"-" came like a as the youngest sportsman in the troop, Sir stream of poetry from his lips ;"—" path muddy Humphry Davy, Dr. Wollaston, and the pa and scarcely passable, yet I do not remember triarch of Scottish belles-lettres, Henry Mackenever to have seen any place so interesting as zie. The Man of Feeling, however, was perthe skill of this mighty magician had rendered suaded with some difficulty to resign his steed this narrow ravine.""Impossible to touch on for the present to his faithful negro follower, any theme, but straightway he has an anecdote and to join Lady Scott in the sociable, until to fit it."-"Thus we strolled along, borne, as we should reach the ground of our battue. it were, on the stream of song and story."-"In Laidlaw, on a long-tailed wiry Highlander, the evening we had a great feast indeed. Sir yclept Hoddin Grey, which carried him nimbly