had on Cowley, but with Scott the seeds were long in germinating. Very early, however, he had tried his hand at verse. The following, among other lines, were discovered wrapped up in a cover inscribed by Dr Adam of the High School, 'Walter Scott, July 1783 :'

On the Setting Sun.

Those evening clouds, that setting ray,
And beauteous tints, serve to display

Their great Creator's praise;
Then let the short-lived thing called man,
Whose life's comprised within a span,

To him his homage raise.

We often praise the evening clouds,
And tints so gay and bold,
But seldom think upon our God,

Who tinged these clouds with gold.

At

ber. Miss Carpenter had some fortune, and the young couple retired to a cottage at Lasswade, where they seem to have enjoyed sincere and unalloyed happiness. The ambition of Scott was now fairly awakened-his lighter vanities blown away. His life henceforward was one of severe but cheerful study and application. In 1799, appeared his translation of Goethe's tragedy, Goetz von Berlichingen, and the same year he obtained the appointment of sheriff of Selkirkshire, worth £300 per annum. Scott now paid a series of visits to Liddesdale, for the purpose of collecting the ballad poetry of the Border, an object in which he was eminently successful. In 1802, the result appeared in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, which contained upwards of forty pieces never before published, and a large quantity of prose illustration, in which might have been seen the germ of that power which he subseThe religious education of Scott may be seen in quently developed in his novels. A third volume this effusion his father was a rigid Presbyterian. was added next year, containing some imitations The youthful poet passed through the High School of the old minstrels by the poetical editor and his and university of Edinburgh, and made some pro- friends. It required little sagacity to foresee that ficiency in Latin, and in the classes of ethics, Walter Scott was now to be a popular name in moral philosophy, and history. He had an aver- Scotland. His next task was editing the metrical sion to Greek, and we may regret, with Lord romance of Sir Tristrem, supposed to be written Lytton, that he refused to enter into that chamber by Thomas the Rhymer, or Thomas of Ercildoune, in the magic palace of literature in which the who flourished about the year 1280. The antisublimest relics of antiquity are stored.' He knew quarian knowledge of Scott, and his poetical taste, generally, but not critically, the German, French, were exhibited in the dissertations which accomItalian, and Spanish languages. He was an in-panied this work, and the imitation of the original satiable reader, and during a long illness in his which was added to complete the romance. youth, stored his mind with a vast variety of length, in January 1805, appeared the Lay of the miscellaneous knowledge. Romances were among Last Minstrel, which instantly stamped him as his chief favourites, and he had great facility in one of the greatest of the living poets. His legeninventing and telling stories. He also collected dary lore, his love of the chivalrous and superballads from his earliest years. Scott was appren- natural, and his descriptive powers, were fully ticed to his father as a writer, after which he brought into play; and though he afterwards studied for the bar, and put on his gown in his improved in versatility and freedom, he achieved twenty-first year. His health was now vigorous nothing which might not have been predicted and robust, and he made frequent excursions into from this first performance. His conception of the the country, which he pleasantly denominated Minstrel was inimitable, and won all hearts-even raids. The knowledge of rural life, character, those who were indifferent to the supernatural traditions, and anecdotes, which he picked up in part of the tale, and opposed to the irregularity of these rambles, formed afterwards a valuable mine the ballad style. The unprecedented success of to him, both as a poet and novelist. His manners the poem inclined Scott to relax any exertions he were easy and agreeable, and he was always a had ever made to advance at the bar, although his welcome guest. Scott joined the Tory party; cautious disposition made him at all times fear to and when the dread of an invasion agitated the depend over-much upon literature. He had altocountry, he became one of a band of volunteers, gether a clear income of about £1000 per annum ; 'brothers true,' in which he held the rank of but his views stretched beyond this easy comquarter-master. His exercises as a cavalry officer, petence; he was ambitious of founding a family and the jovialities of the mess-room, occupied much that might vie with the ancient Border names he of his time; but he still pursued, though irregu- venerated, and to attain this, it was necessary to larly, his literary studies, and an attachment to a become a landed proprietor, and to practise a Perthshire lady-though ultimately unfortunate-liberal and graceful hospitality. Well was he tended still more strongly to prevent his sinking into idle frivolity or dissipation. Henry Mackenzie, the 'Man of Feeling,' had introduced a taste for German literature into the intellectual classes of his native city, and Scott was one of its most eager and ardent votaries. In 1796 he published translations of Burger's Lenore and The Wild Huntsman, ballads of singular wildness and power. Next year, while fresh from his firstlove disappointment, he was prepared, like Romeo, to 'take some new infection to his eye,' and meeting at Gilsland, a watering-place in Cumberland, with a young lady of French parentage, Charlotte Margaret Carpenter, he paid his addresses to her, was accepted, and married on the 24th of Decem- |

fitted to adorn and dignify the character! But his ambition, though free from any tinge of sordid acquisition, proved a snare for his strong good sense and penetration. Scott and his family had gone to reside at Ashestiel, a beautiful residence on the banks of the Tweed, as it was necessary for him, in his capacity of sheriff, to live part of the year in the county of Selkirk. Shortly after the publication of the Lay, he entered into partnership with his old school-fellow, James Ballantyne, then rising into extensive business as a printer in Edinburgh. The copartnery was kept a secret, and few things in business that require secrecy are prosperous or beneficial. The establishment, upon which was afterwards ingrafted a

mornings were devoted to composition-for he had long practised the invaluable habit of early rising-and the rest of the day to riding among his plantations, thinning or lopping his trees, and in the evening entertaining his guests and family. The honour of the baronetcy was conferred upon him in 1820, by George IV., who had taste enough to appreciate his genius. Never, certainly, had literature done more for any of its countless votaries, ancient or modern. Shakspeare had retired early on an easy competency, and also become a rural squire; but his gains must have been chiefly those of the theatrical manager or actor, not of the poet. Scott's splendour was purely the result of his pen: to this he owed his acres, his castle, and his means of hospitality. His official income was but as a feather in the balance. Who does not wish that the dream had continued to the end of his life? It was suddenly and painfully dissolved. The commercial distresses of 1825-6 fell upon publishers as on other classes, and the bankruptcy of Constable and Company involved the poet in losses and engagements to a very large amount. His wealth, indeed, had been almost wholly illusory; for he had been paid for his works chiefly by bills, and these ultimately proved valueless. In the management of his publishing-house, Scott's sagacity seems to have forsaken him unsaleable works were printed in thousands; and while these losses were yearly accumulating, the princely hospitalities of Abbotsford knew no check or pause. Heavy was the day of reckoning terrible the reverse; for when the spell broke in January 1826, it was found that, including the Constable engagements, Scott's commercial liabilities exceeded £120,000, and there was a private debt of £10,000. If this was a blot in the poet's scutcheon, never, it might be said, did man make nobler efforts to redeem the honour of his name. He would listen to no overtures of composition with his creditors-his only demand was for time. He ceased doing the honours for all Scotland,' sold off his Edinburgh house, and taking lodgings there, laboured incessantly at his literary tasks. The fountain was awakened from its inmost recesses, as if the spirit of affliction had troubled it in his passage.' Before his death the commercial debt was reduced to £54,000.

publishing business, demanded large advances of money, and Scott's name became mixed up with pecuniary transactions and losses to a great amount. In 1806, the powerful friends of the poet procured him the appointment of one of the principal clerkships of the Court of Session, worth about £1300 per annum; but the emoluments were not received by Scott until six years after the date of his appointment, when his predecessor died. In his share of the printing business, and the certainty of his clerkship, the poet seemed, however, to have laid up-in addition to his literary gains and his sheriffdom-an honourable and even opulent provision for his family. In 1808, appeared his great poem of Marmion (for the copyright of which Constable paid one thousand guineas), the most magnificent of his chivalrous tales, and the same year he published his edition of Dryden. In 1810, appeared The Lady of the Lake, which was still more popular than either of its predecessors; in 1811, The Vision of Don Roderick; in 1813, Rokeby, and The Bridal of Triermain; in 1814, The Lord of the Isles; in 1815, The Field of Waterloo; and in 1817, Harold the Dauntless. Some dramatic pieces, scarcely worthy of his genius, were also written during this busy period. It could not be concealed that the later works of the Great Minstrel were inferior to his early ones. His style was now familiar, and the world had become tired of it. Byron had made his appearance, and the readers of poetry were bent on the new worship. Scott, however, was too dauntless and intrepid, and possessed of too great resources, to despond under this reverse. 'As the old mine gave symptoms of exhaustion,' says Bulwer-Lytton, 'the new mine, ten times more affluent, at least in the precious metals, was discovered; and just as in Rokeby and Triermain the Genius of the Ring seemed to flag in its powers, came the more potent Genius of the Lamp in the shape of Waverley!' The long and magnificent series of his prose fictions we shall afterwards advert to. They were poured forth even more prodigally than his verse, and for seventeen years from 1814 to 1831-the world hung with delight on the varied creations of the potent enchanter. Scott had now removed from his pleasant cottage at Ashestiel: the territorial dream was about to be realised. In 1811, he English literature presents two memorable and purchased a hundred acres of moorland on the striking events which have never been paralleled banks of the Tweed, near Melrose. The neigh-in any other nation. The first is, Milton advanced bourhood was full of historical associations, but the spot itself was bleak and bare. Four thousand pounds were expended on this purchase; and the interesting and now immortal name of Abbotsford was substituted for the very ordinary one of Cartley Hole. Other purchases of land followed, generally at prices considerably above their value -Kaeside, 4100; Outfield of Toftfield, £6000; Toftfield and parks, £10,000; Abbotslea, 3000; field at Langside, 500; Shearing Flat, 3500; Broomilees, £4200; Short Acres and Scrabtree Park, £700; &c. From these farms and pendicles was formed the estate of Abbotsford. In planting and draining, about £5000 were expended; and in erecting the mansion-house-that 'romance of stone and lime,' as it has been termed and constructing the garden, &c., a sum not less than £20,000 was spent. In his baronial residence the poet received innumerable visitors-princes, peers, and poets-men of all ranks and grades. His

in years, blind, and in misfortune, entering upon the composition of a great epic that was to determine his future fame, and hazard the glory of his country in competition with what had been achieved in the classic ages of antiquity. The counterpart to this noble picture is Walter Scott, at nearly the same age, his private affairs in ruin, undertaking to liquidate, by intellectual labours alone, a debt of £120,000. Both tasks may be classed with the moral sublime of life. Glory, pure and unsullied, was the ruling aim and motive of Milton; honour and integrity formed the incentives to Scott. Neither shrunk from the steady prosecution of his gigantic self-imposed labour. But years rolled on, seasons returned and passed away, amidst public cares and private calamity, and the pressure of increasing infirmities, ere the seed sown amidst clouds and storms was white in the field. In six years Milton had realised the object of his hopes and prayers by the completion.

of Paradise Lost. His task was done; the field of glory was gained; he held in his hand his passport to immortality. In six years Scott had nearly reached the goal of his ambition. He had ranged the wide fields of romance, and the public | had liberally rewarded their illustrious favourite. The ultimate prize was within view, and the world cheered him on, eagerly anticipating his triumph; but the victor sank exhausted on the course. He had spent his life in the struggle. The strong man was bowed down, and his living honour, genius, and integrity were extinguished by delirium and death.

upon, as a

go back to Spenser and Chaucer ere he could find so knightly and chivalrous a poet, or such paintings of antique manners and institutions. The works of the elder worthies were also obscured by a dim and obsolete phraseology; while Scott, in expression, sentiment, and description, could be read and understood by all. The perfect clearness and transparency of his style is one of his distinguishing features; and it was further aided by his peculiar versification. Coleridge had ex| emplified the fitness of the octosyllabic measure for romantic narrative poetry, and parts of his Christabel having been recited to Scott, he adopted In February 1830, Scott had an attack of par- its wild rhythm and harmony, joining to it some alysis. He continued, however, to write several of the abruptness and irregularity of the old hours every day. In April 1831, he suffered a ballad metre. In his hands it became a powerful still more severe attack; and he was prevailed and flexible instrument, whether for light narrameans of withdrawing him from tive and pure description, or for scenes of tragic mental labour, to undertake a foreign tour. The wildness and terror, such as the trial and death of Admiralty furnished a ship of war, and the poet Constance in Marmion, or the swell and agitasailed for Malta and Naples. At the latter place tion of a battle-field. The knowledge and enthuhe resided from the 17th of December 1831 to the siasm requisite for a chivalrous poet Scott pos16th of April following. He still laboured at unfin- sessed in an eminent degree. He was an early ished romances, but his mind was in ruins. From worshipper of 'hoar antiquity. He was in the Naples the poet went to Rome. On the 11th of maturity of his powers-thirty-four years of age— May, he began his return homewards, and reached when the Lay was published, and was perhaps London on the 13th of June. Another attack of better informed on such subjects than any other apoplexy, combined with paralysis, had laid pros- man living. Border story and romance had been trate his powers, and he was conveyed to Abbots- the study and the passion of his whole life. In ford a helpless and almost unconscious wreck. writing Marmion and Ivanhoe, or in building He lingered on for some time, listening occasion- Abbotsford, he was impelled by a natural and ally to passages read to him from the Bible, and irresistible impulse. The baronial castle, the from his favourite author Crabbe. Once he tried court and camp-the wild Highland chase, feud, to write, but his fingers would not close upon the and foray-the antique blazonry, and institutions pen. He never spoke of his literary labours or suc- of feudalism, were constantly present to his cess. At times his imagination was busy prepar- thoughts and imagination. Then, his powers of ing for the reception of the Duke of Wellington at description were unequalled-certainly never surAbbotsford; at other times he was exercising the passed. His landscapes, his characters and situafunctions of a Scottish judge, as if presiding at the tions, were all real delineations; in general effect trial of members of his own family. His mind and individual details, they were equally perfect. never appeared to wander in its delirium towards None of his contemporaries had the same picturthose works which had filled all Europe with his esqueness, fancy, or invention; none so graphic in fame. This fact is of interest in literary history. depicting manners and customs; none so fertile in But the contest was soon to be over; the plough inventing incidents; none so fascinating in narwas nearing the end of the furrow.' About half-rative, or so various and powerful in description. past one, P.M.,' says Mr Lockhart, on the 21st of September 1832, Sir Walter breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day-so warm that every window was wide open-and so perfectly still that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes.'

Call it not vain; they do not err
Who say, that when the poet dies,
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper,
And celebrates his obsequies;
Who say tall cliff and cavern lone
For the departed bard make moan;
That mountains weep in crystal rill;
That flowers in tears of balm distil;
Through his loved groves that breezes sigh,
And oaks, in deeper groans, reply;
And rivers teach their rushing wave
To murmur dirges round his grave.

Lay of the Last Minstrel.

The novelty and originality of Scott's style of poetry, though exhausted by himself, and debased by imitators, formed his first passport to public favour and applause. The English reader had to

His diction was proverbially careless and incorrect. Neither in prose nor poetry was Scott a polished writer. He looked only at broad and general effects; his words had to make pictures, not melody. Whatever could be grouped and described, whatever was visible and tangible, lay within his reach. Below the surface he had less power. The language of the heart was not his familiar study; the passions did not obey his call. The contrasted effects of passion and situation he could portray vividly and distinctly-the sin and suffering of Constance, the remorse of Marmion and Bertram, the pathetic character of Wilfrid, the knightly grace of Fitz-James, and the rugged virtues and savage death of Roderick Dhu, are all fine specimens of moral painting. Byron has nothing better, and indeed the noble poet in some of his tales copied or paraphrased the sterner passages of Scott. But even in these gloomy and powerful traits of his genius, the force lies in the situation, not in the thoughts and expression. There are no talismanic words that pierce the heart or usurp the memory; none of the impassioned and reflective style of Byron, the melodious pathos of Campbell, or the profound sympathy and philosophy of Wordsworth. The great strength of