entertaining individual. We give it in the hasty words of a Cambridge friend. The Sale of Cupid. Πωλεισίω, πωλείσθω. Sell the little urchin, sell him, Every flower of potent spell The cunning imp hath braided; Then, away with the young thief, sell him, The 4th Idyl has been pronounced worthy of Euripides, on account of its moving and melting pathos. It is a conversation between Megara, the wife of Hercules (who murdered his children in a fit of madness), with Alcmena. The narrative of their destruction is told with great tenderness; and the comparison of the distracted parent to the nightingale beholding its young killed by a serpent, is at once natural and beautiful. We translate the most striking part of the poem: 104 Then sat and laugh'd, and to the skies above Raising his eye, he thus insulted Jove : And, as I bid you, let it shine or rain; Feel the sharp goad, and draw the servile What once Europa was, Nannette is now." RECOLLECTIONS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. THE SERE AND YELLOW LEAF." Ir happened all of a sudden, in the in order to prevent inflammatory symptoms; but, according to his request, the music and supper-party proceeded as if no interruption had occurred.* For several days afterwards, Scott continued to struggle with excruciating pain, and was reduced to great weakness; which, however, did not prevent him from resuming at intervals his In about a ordinary employments. week he was pronounced out of dan- The first attack, if I remember right, On that evening, a good and characteristic trait was elicited in the Ettrick Shepherd. Mr. James Ballantyne, who walked home with him from the party, happened to observe, "I do not at all like this illness of Scott's. I have often seen him "Haud your tongue, or I'll gar you you fause down-hearted look jaded of late, and am afraid it is serious." measure your length on the pavement!" replied Hogg; Ye daur to speak as if Scott was on his death-bed! It canna loon that you are! be; 66 it must not be! I will not suffer you to speak that gate." The sentiment 15ko that of Uncle Toby at the bed-side of Le Fevre; and at these words the a friend who was with me thought that Scott would not live for another month, I derived the conviction of his recovery. The physicians tell me," said he, that mere pain cannot kill; but I am very sure, that no man would for ether three months encounter the same pain that I have suffered, and live. However, I have resolved to take thankfully whatever drugs they prescribe, and follow their advice as long as I can. Set a stout heart to a stey bree is a grand rule in this world." The day, though in summer, was cold and bleak; but the sun shone through a bank of clouds, and the invalid's eye lightened as he pronounced the last words. Three days afterwards I heard that his recovery was despaired of; but I did not despair. I wrote to him, earnestly recommending a certain mode of treatment- the same which ultimately was adopted, by advice of the late Dr. Dick, at Abbotsford; namely, a slow alterative course of medicine, with very frequent use of the warm bath: which at last eradicated the disorder. But the conflict was long and doubtful. That summer, almost every one believed, on his departure from town, that he would never return. In truth, had it not been for his own unconquerable spirit, joined to the utmost patience and equanimity, no medical treatment, however skilful, could have been of any avail. Exercise he knew was of importance; therefore, of his own free will, he persisted in its use, though motion always exasperated the pain. At Abbotsford, in the autumn, he became so much worse as to be not only unable to mount the pony without assistance, but even to sit upright without the help of a servant on each side to support him. Still he persevered; and, after continuing this practice for several weeks, he felt, as he said, "very proud when he was once more able to ride a little way by himself:" and from the day on which he first did so, his recovery might be considered certain. For a long time afterwards he was subjected to the same strict regimen, and had occasional attacks; but the violence of the disorder gradually abated, till at length it disappeared altogether. I have dwelt on this period of his life because it is so remarkable that, during the severe conflict with illness, Incr MINU JITU622 he scarcely for one entire day relinquished his literary tasks. Indeed, they advanced the more quickly, as he had not so much interruption as usual from visitors. The third series of Tales of my Landlord, which appeared in 1819, was followed so rapidly by the romance of Ivanhoe, that it seemed as if, like the German La Fontaine, he bad attained the art of dictating to two secretaries, and carrying on two stories at one time. To dictating (of original composition) he had always a particular aversion, but was now under the necessity of employing a scribe, his own scrolls being almost quite illegible. Both Ivanhoe and the Bride of Lammermuir were produced while yet laboured under that painful disorder; and the duty of amanuensis was fulfilled alternately by Mr. William Laidlaw and the late Mr. John Ballantyne. Frequently, in the midst of the humourous scenes with old "Caleb Balderstone," the convulsive paroxysin would return, and his sufferings were most acute; but after the fit, he would cheerfully and quietly take up the story by the catch-word, and proceed as if there had been no interruption. he Thus the malady was resisted and overcome; and in the course of 1820 he appeared so thoroughly renovated in constitution, that his friends fondly trusted he might equal in longevity his friends, Henry Mackenzie or Sir Robert Liston, and continue his literary pursuits for even thirty years more. But, alas! as Drummond of Hawthornden predicted of his own illness, "Truce ta'en to breathe Only twelve more years of life were granted to him; and, as already said, I doubt whether, in the whole range of biography, an example could be found of another individual who, in in equal space of time, fulfilled so many, so diversified, and conflicting duties. In 1819 or 1820, I forget which, occurred the marriage of his eldest daughter with Mr. Lockhart, and the appointment of the present Sir Walter to a commission in the army. From this date onwards, to the year 1825, his life was spent in assiduous labour, but also in the most uninterrupted happiness and prosperity. In 1820 appeared the Monastery and Abbot, The next five years gave rise to no less than seven romances, or novels, amounting to twenty-three volumes; of which all, but especially the Pirate, the Fortunes of Nigel, and Quentin Durward, shewed unabated vigour, with the same unaffected charms of style, and forcible conception of character, that animated his earlier productions. In 1822, Sir Walter took a leading part in the arrangements made to welcome the king on his visit to Scotland, when he evinced all that buoyancy of spirit and enthusiasm which, more than twenty years earlier, had marked his conduct as adjutant of the Mid-Lothian yeomanry corps. The occasions, no doubt, were very different; but the good tact, ardour, and perseverance displayed by Scott, were the same, aud proved that his mind still possessed all its youthful elasticity. The period of the king's visit formed a grand and effective jubilee; and, looking at the Author of Waverley as he then appeared, no one could have formed the most distant surmise of the cruel reverses which were so soon to overtake him. By this time, Abbotsford house and grounds were almost completed as they now exist, and formed a point of at vilgrime of all visits were occasionally much more The cavillers above mentioned, who 66 Leho sword, chose to live at his own house in a style such as became the descendant of an old Border baron. By recollected conversations and memoranda of particular days, this memoir might have been expanded to ten times its present length; but circumstances oblige me to close it within a certain space, and I must therefore devote my remaining pages to the last six years of his life. In 1825, every one who had any judgment or discrimination in commercial affairs, perceived clearly that there was a storm approaching. The system of raising money with extreme facility, even on the most absurd speculations, had been carried to such extent that the overblown bubbles must at length burst, and in their explosion create the utmost confusion and dismay. Sir Walter Scott, though ostensibly holding the rank of an independent country gentleman, was, by the number of his indorsations on the bills of Constable and Co., rendered liable for their commercial engagements to the amount of at least 80,000l.; an appalling sum to be demanded of an individual whose entire assets, if brought to the hammer, would probably not realise even 10,000l. for the whole estate of Abbotsford had already been assigned to the present Sir Walter, on occasion of his marriage. The recent facility in raising money had been exactly suited for the mode of conducting business adopted by Mr. Constable, who, though quite aware of existing difficulties, always indulged in day-dreams, that, by some grand speculation, he would at length retrieve all the past. Towards the end of the year 1825, however, it became nearly impossible for him to effect renewals of the bills already current. Among Scotch bankers, indeed, this might be done on the principle of intimidation, as they perceived that a refusal would cause immediate bankruptcy; but in London, the only resource was among brokers and usurers. With apparently the most perfect calmness, Mr. Constable, who was then an invalid, remained principally at his country-house, organising the plan of his Miscellany; by which original idea he plainly saw that large profits might be realised: for it was the very first of those cheap, monthly publications which afterwards caused an absolute revolution in the book-trade, and by which, in the aggregate, enormous sums have been gained. The work was to start with the life of Napoleon, by the Author of Waverley; and the projector took great delight in blazoning the prospectus of his future volumes, having engaged the most eminent authors in the kingdom to write on the topics he suggested. That bankruptcy might have been avoided, and the affairs of his house retrieved, I doubt not; but changes occurred in London so sudden, and so fatal, that no one, even among the most cautious and considerate, could have foreseen so violent a catastrophe. The panic then spread like wildfire: by next Christmas, some of the London failures cut off resources which he had looked upon as certain, and in the beginning of 1826 he stopped payment, leaving enormous debts, to which the assets were comparatively nothing. In the winter of 1825 I met frequently with Sir Walter Scott, and at an interview in Castle Street, two months before Constable's insolvency was known, or even dreamed of, he predicted the changes which soon afterwards took place in the commercial world, and partly explained the methods which he had himself adopted in order to weather the storm. But, with the clearest remembrance of that conversation, I am thoroughly convinced that Sir Walter, up to the time of Constable's examination as a bankrupt, remained in profound ignorance how the estate would turn out, and what would eventually be his own liabilities. He was prepared for a severe ordeal, and seemed perfectly tranquil ; but had he known accurately the extent of the difficulties, probably his arrangements to meet them would have been very different. It may seem fantastic, but although at this time Sir Walter Scott continued apparently in good health and spirits, I could not help entertaining somewhat of a mournful impression, from the changed aspect of his house in Castle Street his original cell, as he termed it. Having removed all his books to Abbotsford, he no longer sat in the apartment which had formerly contained them, but in a small drawingroom above stairs; where the most conspicuous object was a cast from the skull of King Robert Bruce, as it had been discovered at Dunfermline Abbey: a relic on which he looked |