To return from this digression, and resume the subject of manly exercises. The ancient pastime of archery is described in the novels and poems with great liveliness and precision. We are presented, in Ivanhoe, with a somewhat elaborate account of a match at quarter-staff *. The most difficult evolutions of horsemanship are treated of with familiarity, and often in the appropriate technical terms; and they every where furnish abundance of spirited and picturesque description. The admirable management of the single combats (it is enough to mention those of Fitz-James with Roderic Dhu†, of Rashleigh with Francis Osbaldistone ‡, and of Glendinning with sir Piercie Shafton §), implies more than a novice's acquaintance with the use of the sword. Neither the poet nor the novelist makes a frequent parade of nautical science; but when the sail is spread to the sea-breeze, or the oar dips lightly into a glassy lake, both writers appear to enter on an old and well-known scene of hardy enjoyment. And for the land service,' let me refer you to one passage, apparently written with the warmth of pleasurable recollection. Dr. Johnson

thought life had few things better than the ex' citation produced by being whirled rapidly along

* Vol. i. ch. 11.

+ Lady of the Lake, Canto V. St. 14 to 16.

Rob Roy, vol. ii. ch. 12.

§ Monastery, vol. ii. ch. 7.

' in a post-chaise; but he who has in youth experienced the confident and independent feeling of a stout pedestrian in an interesting country, ' and during fine weather, will hold the taste of the 'great moralist cheap in comparison.-Guy Mannering, Vol. II. Ch. 1.

I do not infer from passages of this nature that their authors have actually engaged in all the sports and attained proficiency in all the exercises described; but on the other hand it cannot be believed that either the novels or the poems were composed by any person who had not in the course of his past life acquired some practical knowledge of sylvan and athletic diversions, and entered into them with enthusiasm. The author of Marmion has given frequent intimations of his ardent and long-cherished attachment to these pursuits. Thus, in the introductory epistles annexed to that poem, he asks of one friend,

"Remember'st thou my grey-hounds true?
O'er holt, or hill, there never flew,
From slip, or leash, there never sprang
More fleet of foot, or sure of fang."

Introduction to Canto II.

He reminds another of the time when

66

Riding side by side, our hand

First drew the voluntary brand;"

('the days,' I presume, of the zealous volunteer

service,' mentioned by the author of Waverley, 'when the bar-gown of our pleaders was often flung over a blazing uniform *,')—the time when

"-Grave discourse might intervene—
Of the good horse that bore him best
His shoulder, hoof, and arching crest:
For, like mad Tom's, our chiefest care
Was horse to ride, and weapon wear."

Introduction to Canto IV.

And in one of his minor poems, written,' as he says, ' after a week's shooting and fishing,' he celebrates with enthusiasm the hardy sports of Ettrick Forest †.

Their passion for martial subjects, and their success in treating them, form a conspicuous point of resemblance between the novelist and poet. No writer has appeared in our age (and few have ever existed) who could vie with the author of Marmion in describing battles and marches, and all the terrible grandeur of war, except the author of Waverley. Nor is there any man of original genius and powerful inventive talent as conversant with the military character, and as well schooled in tactics as the author of Waverley, except the author of Marmion. Both seem to exult in camps, and to warm at the approach of a soldier. In every warlike scene that awes and agitates, or dazzles and inspires, the poet triumphs; but where any effect is

* Waverley, vol. i. ch. 10.

+ Miscellaneous Poems. Edinburgh, 1820. Page 153.

D

to be produced by dwelling on the minutiae of military habits and discipline, or exhibiting the blended hues of individual humour and professional peculiarity, as they present themselves in the mess-room or the guard-room, every advantage is on the side of the novelist. I might illustrate this position by tracing all the gradations of character marked out in the novels, from the Baron of Bradwardine to Tom Halliday: but the examples are too well known to require enumeration, and too generally admired to stand in need of panegyric.

Both writers, then, must have bestowed a greater attention on military subjects, and have mixed more frequently in the society of soldiers, than is usual with persons not educated to the profession of arms. And without presuming to inquire into the private connexions and intimacies of our admired lyric poet, I may at least observe that the rich and animated pictures of martial life in Old Mortality and the Legend of Montrose are exactly such as might have been expected from a man of genius, who had recently conversed with the triumphant warriors of Waterloo on the field of their achievements, and commemorated those achievements both in verse and in prose *.

It may not perhaps be strictly justifiable to assume without argument, that Paul's Letters and the Field of Waterloo are written by the same author; but the illustrations to be drawn from the Letters are so few, and comparatively unimportant, that I have not thought it necessary to trouble you with any preliminary discussion on this point.

It may be asked why we should take for granted that the writer of these novels is not himself a member of the military profession? The conjecture is a little improbable if we have been right in concluding that the minuteness and multiplicity of our author's legal details are the fruit of his own study and practice; although the same person may certainly, at different periods of life, put on the helmet and the wig, the gorget and the band; attend courts and lie in trenches, head a charge and lead a cause. I cannot help suspecting, however, (it is with much diffidence I venture the remark), that in those warlike recitals which so strongly interest the great body of readers, an army critic would discover several particulars that savour more of the amateur than of the practised campaigner. It is not from any technical improprieties (if such exist) that I derive this observation, but, on the contrary, from a too great minuteness and over curious diligence, at times perceptible in the military details; which, amidst a seeming fluency and familiarity, betray, I think, here and there, the lurking vestiges of labour and contrivance, like the marks of pick-axes in an artificial grotto. The accounts of operations in the field, if not more circumstantial than a professional author would have made them, are occasionally circumstantial on points which such an author would have thought it idle to dwell upon. A writer who derived his knowledge of war from ex