one of its latest Abbots. Great and especial privileges were conceded to it and to the town. It was within an area of 1150 by 706 feet, enclosed by a lofty wall, battlemented, and turreted, a single, stern, square tower of which, 70 feet high, remains, the only entire portion of the abbey. The material used was a darkred stone, unfortunately very friable. The church, of course cruciform, was 270 by 132 feet. The central part of the nave was 35 feet wide, the aisles each 16 feet, and the total width 68 feet. The nave was 148 feet long, and the choir and chancel 763 feet. The transept had an east aisle 16 feet wide, and a main aisle, making a total width of 45 feet. The side walls were 67 feet high. There were two western towers, and a lofty central tower or spire.

Devastated at the Reformation, it was allowed to fall into decay. A century ago a considerable part was standing, but much of this fell at about that period. Billings writes that “there are few buildings in which the Norman and the early English are so closely blended, and the transition so gentle." But the wear of time and neglect and fanaticism have sadly dilapidated it. "The mouldings and tracery" (writes the same author) "are thus wofully obliterated; and the facings are so much decayed, as to leave the original surface distinguishable only here and there." Latterly, the Exchequer has interposed; and some repairs, very commendable if not picturesque, have been made to arrest the rapid decay. Remaining now, are a tower of the enclosure, 70 feet high; perhaps one-half of the west front, including the main entrance, -a grand roundarch transition door-way, — and the lower parts of two square corner towers; a lesser portion of the chancel end; considerable of the chapter-house or vestry, and of the south wall and gable of the south transept, with some once beautiful transition work. The bases of the interior pillars alone remain.

And in such condition we find this abbey, another holy and noble temple of Scotland allowed to perish, to be succeeded only by insufficient and comparatively contemptible religious "accommodations."

The romantic or entertaining adventures and the picturesque scenes represented by the Great Magician within these ruins, or near them, while uncommonly pleasing, show that his exuberant imagination created a great deal besides incident and character. At Arbroath, as at the Holy Island, we must now suppose that subterranean passages described by him, though once not only pos

sible but probable, are filled or destroyed. Memory or reading, however, during the hours of a pleasant twilight or moonlight at this "St. Ruth's," and reanimation of its recesses with scenes of "The Antiquary," will enable one to spend such time pleasantly and well, and to find a wonderful addition to the interest of the novel, while recalling the incidents of the picnic; of the duel that was subsequent; of search at midnight for buried treasure (when the deluded baronet was the dupe of a German adventurer-prototype of more modern "mining" swindlers - who endeavored to deceive him concerning imaginary or fictitious wealth that could be dug here); and of the supervision of this search by secreted observers, and of the startling manner in which they haunted the ruin and the treasure-seekers; and, finally, of the impressive spectacle of a stealthy yet formal funeral by torchlight, — incidents all seemingly real, as are so many others described by Scott.

"The Antiquary" is associated with other places, but of minor importance and imaginary, although with some resemblance to recognizable extant objects. One will, however, probably be made as well acquainted as possible with its localities, during an afternoon ramble along the sea-shore near Arbroath, and during a visit later in the day to the venerable remains of the Abbey of St. Thomas.

The novel introduces one historical incident with a graphic and interesting description of an event that occurred during Scott's earlier years, and that, in some form, more than once engrossed his attention, with more cause than we trust it will ever again engross the thoughts of his countrymen. This incident is an alarm of a French invasion, a bugbear, or a possibility, or a probability, more conceivable by a Briton than by an American or other alien to British land (if one is to judge by comparatively recent demonstrations). Whatever may have been witnessed or thought necessary at later dates, in "'98," time of the story, Jonathan Oldbuck valorously armed himself for the defence of home, as ardently patriotic, if not as advisedly appointed, as a member of the volunteer corps would be now. And the worthy man went forth in his panoply to find that the alarm was — as may it always prove

baseless.

The prototype of Mr. Oldbuck, the Antiquary, was, as already mentioned, Mr. George Constable, with whom Scott first became acquainted in 1777, at Prestonpans. Scott recorded in his "Auto

biography," that he "was an old friend of my father's, educated to the law, but retired upon his independent property, and generally residing near Dundee. He had many of those peculiarities of temper which long afterwards I tried to develop in the character of Jonathan Oldbuck. It is very odd, that, though I am unconscious

of any thing in which I strictly copied the manners of my old friend, the resemblance was nevertheless detected by George Chalmers, Esq., solicitor, London, an old friend both of my father and Mr. Constable, and who affirmed to my late friend Lord Kinedder, that I must needs be the author of 'The Antiquary,' since he recognized the portrait of George Constable. But my friend George was not so decided an enemy to womankind as his representative Monkbarns," &c.

The prototype of Edie Ochiltree, that example of a peculiar style of old Scottish beggars, a "blue-bonnet," and one of the remarkably live human beings created by the Great Magician, has been thought to have been one Andrew Gemmels, or Gemble, once a rude old soldier and afterwards a beggar, who resembled Edie. His haunts were mostly in southern Scotland.

From Arbroath the route of this tour leads to Edinburgh. Travellers may go thither by rail through Perth, Stirling, and Linlithgow, making from Perth an excursion to Falkland and Loch Leven, scenes of important incidents in two of the Waverley novels (and of some Scottish history, also, readers may suggest). This route will be sketched in the next two chapters.

XXVII.

"THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH."

Twenty-sixth Novel of the Series; Written 1828; Published Autumn, 1828; Author's Age, 57; Time of Action, 1402.

ALMOST every one now approaches Perth by rail, and thus

hardly, at first, realizes the beauty of its position. Quite differently first came Scott, as he informs us in the opening chapter of this story. "I was not above fifteen years old,” he wrote, when occurred "the first excursion which I was permitted to make on a

pony of my own;" the route of which led over a now disused road crossing the Ochils at a spot called the Wicks of Baiglie, southward from Perth. This, he added with patriotic devotion, "is one of the most beautiful points of view which Britain, or perhaps the world, can afford," from which the traveller beholds "stretching beneath him, the valley of the Tay, traversed by its ample and lordly stream; the town of Perth, with its two large meadows or Inches, its steeples and its towers; the hills of Moncreiff and Kinnoul faintly rising into picturesque rocks, partly clothed with woods; the rich margin of the river, studded with elegant mansions; and the distant view of the huge Grampian Mountains, the northern screen of this exquisite landscape." I recollect," he continues, "pulling up the reins without meaning to do so, and gazing on the scene before me as if I had been afraid it would shift like those in a theatre." "The recollection of that inimitable landscape has possessed the strongest influence over my mind, and retained its place as a memorable thing when much that was influential on my own fortunes has fled from my recollection. It is, therefore, natural, that, whilst deliberating on what might be brought forward for the amusement of the public, I should pitch upon some narrative connected with the splendid scenery which made so much impression on my youthful imagination."

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This city, Perth, is one of the most ancient and celebrated in all Scotland. It is indeed said to have been built and fortified as early as the time of the Roman Emperor Agricola, in the year 81, when the eagles of his wonderfully aggressive power flew thus far, and, with his legions, came, it is narrated, over almost the very pass that Scott has described. Its charms affected the old Romans much as they have moderns, as Scott has told us in his own anonymous" lines:

"Behold the Tiber!' the vain Roman cried,
Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side;
But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay,
And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay?"

From an indefinite mediæval period, until the latter part of the fifteenth century, Perth was capital of Scotland. It had a Parliament House and a Castle, and, prior to the Reformation, no less than four monasteries, two nunneries, and other religious establishments. Continually a scene of historic events, it is well known as that of some of the earliest attacks on the ancient church by the

reformer Knox, and, later, of the strange Gowrie conspiracy. Furthermore, in early times it was a place of great trade, particularly with the Netherlands; and so prosperous was it, that an English writer (Neckham), over six centuries ago, noticed the fact in a distich:

"Transis, ample Tai, per rura, per oppida, per Perth ;
Regnum sustentant illius urbis opes."

Stranger than any other incident, is perhaps that, very illustrative of wild medieval periods in the Highlands, chosen by Scott for a prominent feature in the plot of his story of Perth, the combat of the two Highland clans, concerning whose identity various opinions have existed.

Travellers, once established in the old city, are supposed to sally forth for observation. Leaving, possibly, the "George Hotel," that is or was the most respectable and the dearest (having been honored by a night's patronage of the Royal family), they may soon learn, that, although one of the prettiest towns of North Britain, Perth has lost most of its relics of former renown. From time to time, a series of municipal dignitaries appear to have exercised baleful influences on them. Gowrie House, scene of the plot that implicated King James VI. and the two brothers Ruthven in 1600, has been supplanted by a jail; perhaps the magistrates deeming such change retributively indicative of the desert of one of these illustrious parties. Some of the baronial and ecclesiastical structures have disappeared, to make room for certain "Greek" county buildings. The eminent church of St. John, scene of Popish pomps, early Knox exhortations, consequent iconoclastic ravages, and of notable incidents in Scott's story, has been partitioned, by a sort of Scottish Cerberean style, into three churches at once. Continued investigations lead to a statue of Sir Walter Scott, that, says the local guide-book, "is scarcely to be regarded as a public testimonial to the memory of the novelist: it was accidentally acquired by the magistrates, at the sale of a local sculptor's stock." These magistrates, in expiation, did thus, for once, sacrificially labor to retain for their city some token, some relic, suggesting the attention lavished upon it by the most glorious genius their country has produced. The statue, of brown stone, is a standing figure, holding a manuscript; while, at the feet, is a dog looking up. The base is square, and Scotch shrewdness (or other quality) has, if the writer remembers correctly, placed no inscription thereon.