terest depends on the mental recipient;
and when bodily powers decay, the
mind clings rather to the remembrance
of early years than to any enjoyment
which novel impressions can excite.
The Pompeian ruins alone would for-
merly have been a source of the great-
est amusement and delight to Sir
Walter Scott. He would have exca-
vated and explored in this region with
the same enthusiasm with which he
once "drained the well" at Dunnottar
Castle, and exulted in every mouldering
remnant which he brought to light.
But now, whatever attractions this
world could afford him, were, in Italy,
faint and feeble; whereas the ties which
connected him with his own country,
especially with his favourite Abbots-
ford, were yet strong, and, while life
remained, indissoluble. In the course
of the spring his health did not, as
was expected, improve. Every means
had been adopted to keep his mind
constantly and cheerfully occupied; so
that, in the complete absence of anxiety
and intellectual pressure, the vital or-
gans might possibly recover their tone.
On this principle, when at Rome in
the month of April, he was induced to
visit all the scenes and spectacles that
usually interest a traveller; but here
he became so painfully conscious of
his own increasing weakness, that
henceforward all efforts devised by
friends for his amusement were in vain.
Nothing could dispel or overcome the
apprehension, that his strength would
altogether wear out before it was pos-
sible to reach that home which he had
never wished to leave.

The plans formerly recommended
by physicians were now, therefore,
abandoned. It would have been only
injurious and cruel to detain him in a
country where this gloomy impression
kept his mind always on the rack.
But the route home by land, through
Switzerland and down the Rhine, was
preferred, in hopes that perpetual
change of scene, together with the
consciousness that he was every day
drawing nearer to England, might yet
have a favourable effect. Alas! this
consciousness formed the sole interest
he now took in his journey, and was
accompanied with such impatience to
proceed, that he sometimes could
hardly be prevailed on to desist from
travelling both night and day. Still

1 1'- mental faculties until

on his passage down the Rhine; where
the intense heat of summer aggravated
his sufferings, and brought on the worst
of symptoms, another paralytic stroke,
which at first it was supposed would
prove immediately mortal.

Henceforward, the light of intellect
was almost entirely obscured, and the
remaining three months of his exist-
ence were spent in a state far too
painful for description. Only at in-
tervals could he recognise his relatives
and attendants, or express himself so
Under these
as to be understood.
complicated sufferings he arrived in
London, where he remained for about
ten days at a hotel in Jermyn Street,
receiving the utmost attention from his
friend Sir Henry Halford, and other
physicians, and affectionately watched
by his family. In so far as his wishes
could be ascertained, they remained
unchangeably bent on home; and he
therefore embarked, on the 7th of July,
in a steam-vessel, which, by a rapid
and easy voyage, arrived at Edinburgh
on the evening of the 9th. Here he
rested for two days at his house in
Shandwick Place, scarcely, I believe,
recognising where he was; but on the
first view of Abbotsford from the car-
riage-windows, during his journey thi-
ther, it has been told that his excite-
ment was intense-that he fully re-
cognised the friends around him, and
expressed the utmost joy and gratitude
because he had once more beheld that
home to which he was so fondly at-
tached. But this recognition was like
an expiring gleam of the intellectual
lamp, which immediately afterwards
subsided into the faint glimmer of ex-
haustion. On his arrival at his own
house, it is said that he no longer took
any interest in the objects around him,
or shewed recollection, except by shak-
ing hands cordially with his old ac-
quaintance and faithful steward, Mr.
William Laidlaw. In short, the grasp
of Death was on him; and the long
struggle which followed was only a
final indication of that innate strength
of constitution which had already borne
up under so many trials.

During most of the time from the 12th of July, when he arrived at Abbotsford, till his death, he remained in a state either of stupefaction or delirium; a symptom which, I believe, never fails to attend the last conflict of an originally robust frame and strong

On the

cumstances, can rationally be supposed capable. If you proceed, time will be thrown away, property sacrificed, character attacked, if not injured; and, after a vain and most fatiguing struggle, you will end in a situation far worse than when you began." A witness to the conversation observed, that it was an extraordinary instance of disinterested zeal; but that any one should be insane enough to reject the proffers so kindly made, or the advice so forcibly given, was yet more extraordinary. As to the verification of his predictions, this may be understood as a matter of course.

By some envious detractors it has been occasionally alleged, that Scott through life enjoyed advantages such as rarely fall to the lot of men devoted to literature; on which grounds they would infer that his eminence is less to be wondered at. It is true, that from the beginning he was independent; he might talk of the res angusta domi in early years, but could never experience the horrors of that thraldom entailed by poverty, when the labour of each day is required to provide for existing wants. If, however, in a state of perfect independence he submitted to long and arduous literary tasks, without any necessity for so doing,

surely his merit is not thereby lessened,
but enhanced. Such cavillers, per-
haps, wish to insinuate, that, if doomed
to write for daily bread, his genius
would not have triumphed; and, in
truth, could any obstacle have broken
the practically calm but originally irrit-
able spirit of Scott, it would have been
poverty. Yet, as there is no state of
prosperity to which we cannot natu-
rally enough suggest a contrast, I
could imagine his unyielding and
stern self-control-even playfulness
and mildness over a cup of water
and crust of bread, or his expression,
"It is my lot in this world, and, if not
quite content, I endeavour to be so."
He would, even then, have maintained
the same principles of independence
by which he was actuated through
life; and the perfect tranquillity and
fortitude with which he "looked diffi-
culties in the face" would have dis-
armed them of their terrors.

In this, as in many other passages, I have wished to illustrate the moral character of Scott; in which respect he was even more worthy of admiration than for his literary excellence. Hence no man of genius was ever so universally regretted, or left behind him a reputation so completely without a blot.

HEBREW IDYLS.

No. III.

RUTH.

To Bethlehem, with all abundance rife,
In Judah's lot, with many a spring supplied,
Called Ephrata from Caleb's fruitful wife,
Two lonely women came at evening-tide.
"Ha! can it be? it is Naomi !" cried
The gossips of the place, and gathered round
The friend long absent, lost, forgotten, found.

"Is this Naomi? this our pleasant one?"
"Nay!" she replied, with accent sad and stern,
"Naomi call me not; I've undergone
Much grief and bitterness: in one word learn,
I went out full, and empty I return;
With me most bitterly has dealt the Father:
Naomi call me not, but Mara, rather."

Ten years were passed since she from Bethlehem,
With her two sons and husband, turned in flight
To Moab's land: what was become of them?
Long since Elimelech, the Ephratite,

In Moab's land was buried out of sight;
And now the same way both her sons were gone,
Her only props, Mahlon and Chilion.

By famine pressed, they sought in Moab's land
A refuge, and therein they found their graves,
All but the widow. Now three widows stand
On Judah's confines, and Naomi craves
A blessing from the Lord, who only saves,
On the two women, widowed in their youth,
The wives of her dead sons, Orpah and Ruth.

For they were both of Moab, and though loath
To part with them, as for their sakes seemed best,
She to their mothers' homes dismissed them both:
"The Lord deal kindly with you! make you blest,
Each at her mother's house, and give you rest,
Each in her husband's home! for kindly ye
Have ever dealt both with the dead and me."

122

"The path thou treadest shall by me be trod,
And where thou lodgest will I also lie;

Thy people shall be mine; thy God my God;
And where thou diest, there too will I die,
And there be buried. May the Lord on high
So deal with me, as I this vow maintain,
That nothing else but death shall part us twain."

Thus Ruth exclaimed, and with her onward went;
Nor did Naomi more objection make,

When she perceived her mind was fully bent
To leave friends, kindred, country, for her sake,
And with the people of the Lord to take
Her part for worse or better. So Ruth came
To Bethlehem with that dejected dame.

'Twas barley-harvest; and the gladsome youth
Of either sex were busy through the plain,
Reaping and gleaning in the fields: and Ruth
Did of the old Naomi leave obtain

To be of them, to glean the scattered grain.
'Twas Boaz' field that day she gleaned in,
(For so it chanced) dead Mahlon's near of kin.

And Boaz came into the field to see

What work they did, and to the reapers said,—

"The Lord be with you :" "And the Lord bless thee,"
They answered him; and when he turned his head,
And saw fair Ruth, his steward he questioned,
"Whence came this damsel ?" he made answer clear,
"She with Naomi came from Moab here.

She asked to let her glean here, and I let her;
And she has gleaned till now from morning-tide."
And Boaz said," My daughter! hark! 'tis better
You glean not elsewhere, but that you abide
Fast by my maidens; them from side to side,
And field to field take care to follow still,
And where you see them reaping glean at will.

I've charged the young men, and you need not shrink,
If haply some of them are standing round;
But when you are athirst, go, freely drink."
And then she said, low bowing to the ground,—
"How in thy sight have I this favour found,
Who am a stranger?" Boaz said," Not so;
How with Naomi yoù have dealt I know,

And all your conduct since your husband died;
How you from parents, country, came away
Unto a stranger people, and relied

On Israel's God, under his wings to lay
Your safety, and your trust he will repay."
"Though I am lowlier than thy lowliest maiden,
Yet thou thy handmaid hast with favour laden,

And blessed mine ear with comfortable speech."
And at the meal-time Boaz called her nigh,
And bade her eat, and unto her did reach

The parched corn. She sat the reapers by,
And ate, and was sufficed; and modestly
She rose, and to her gleaning went again;
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