country villa. Here there was more life and motion; the noise of the work-people, or the sound of the song which cheered their labours, were heard; anon the neighing of a steed wandering freely through his pasture; or the voice of a herdsman calling his cows, one of which had ventured into the Tweed, and suffered herself to be carried too far by the current. All these details, which usually escape notice, made me attentive and curious. At length, in clearing the gate, I roused the barking of several dogs, which ran to meet me,-a female hound, among the rest, of a beautiful shape, called, I believe, Maida,* and the favourite of her master, to whom his dogs are as dear as those which play so fine a part in Guy Mannering were to Dandie Dinmont, or the faithful Luffrat to Douglas. Fortunately their barking salutations were not of a hostile character, and they apprized Mrs. —, the housekeeper, of my arri‡ val, who tranquillized them by her presence. Having used Sir Walter Scott's name, and said I came by his permission, I was admitted without difficulty to see the whole of the chateau, the interior arrangement of which, and the furniture, I shall describe as briefly as possible. Let me not forget to notice, in the first instance, a little parterre with a basin in the middle of it, which fronts

* Poor Maida is since dead, and her effigy in stone adorns the principal entrance gate of Abbotsford, with a Latin epitaph.

+ Lady of the Lake.

My memory has suffered her name to escape.

VOL. II.

B B

the gate, and which is seen under the window of the green-house. This basin is adorned with eccentric figures carved in stone, which are really fantastic caprices, and reminded me of the grotesque images of the pantagruelines. Figures not less eccentric, but all modelled after those of the bas reliefs, the pedestals, the cornices, and the entablatures of Melrose, have been introduced into the sculpture of the interior apartments. There are particularly some burlesque caryatides resembling monks, some overwhelmed by the load which they support, and expressing their fatigue by painful grimaces; others playing on a musical instrument, or making some grimace.* The dining-room is large, handsome, and adorned with pictures and engravings, like the adjacent rooms. Among these subjects of art, I observed a magnificent engraving of the celebrated ballad of Chevy Chase; Percy and Douglas slain in one day; two illustrious warriors fallen victims of their unreflecting bravery, or rather of the habits of marauding, in which their entire lives were passed. I admired a fine portrait of Fairfax, the republican general; Falstaff, with his fair round belly; a portrait of Dr. Rutherford, the maternal uncle of Sir Walter; Shakspeare, in his hour of jollity, smiling, with a glass in his hand; some landscapes

* It is well known that the monastic architects not unwillingly sacrificed, by these grotesque images, the monks of a rival order to the spirit of ridicule.

of the Flemish school; a fine portrait of the Duke of Monmouth, and especially one of Claverhouse, calm, noble, and worthy of what the author of Old Mortality has told us of him. This portrait is so handsome that it may serve to explain the sort of prepossession with which he is introduced by a poet who had him frequently under his eye.

Another portrait on the opposite wall occasioned me a not less animated emotion. It was the head of Mary Stuart, but bleeding and placed in a basin at the moment of its being separated from the trunk. That alluring countenance, which wherever it is met with, inspires a tender melancholy, caused me to shudder for the first time. It is now time to enter the poet's study, or rather his arsenal. It is in fact a little museum of armour. Let us enter with precaution, and promise discretion in this sanctum sanctorum, which will not improbably remind us of that of the Laird of Monkbairns.

The light is admitted through gothic panes of glass, painted of various colours. On a large table, placed in the centre of the apartment, were three of those ancient Scotch targets which still compose a part of the armour of the Highlanders. This armour consists, in what concerns its defensive portion, of a long sword, or claymore, hung on the left side; a poignard or dirk, stuck in the girdle to the right, and destined for near combat when two enemies gripe each other so closely that the sword is no longer a serviceable weapon; a musket and a brace of pistols complete the warlike

apparatus. Formerly, the highlanders also carried a kind of short hatchet; and before they possessed muskets, or when they were short of ammunition, they substituted the Lochaber axe, a kind of long pike, terminated by a formidable blade, equally fit for warding or thrusting. All these warlike instruments figure in the cabinet of Sir Walter Scott, as well as a coat of mail, an addition to the Scotch costume which the chieftains occasionally adopted. Among the muskets there is one which appertained to Rob Roy Mac Gregor. Old armour, cuirasses, cuises, casques, &c. are arranged in the angles of this armoury, and on first sight seem as if they were the immoveable figures of so many ancient kights, who await there the fiat of the magician in order to restore them to their existence and illustrious name.

I thought I recognized at least one of those cuirasses which Sir Walter Scott has told us he purchased at Waterloo; and those who in France have bitterly criticised Paul's Letters, will impute to him the purchase of these trophies at a low price as a crime. I shall not participate in that opinion, even in ceasing to regard Sir Walter Scott in the light of an antiquary; and for this reason; that I would not preclude a French antiquary from the right of furnishing his cabinet with English arms, and thence deriving a gratification to national vanity. The Scotch are pleased with the reminiscences of Waterloo, because they allege that Buonaparte loudly applauded the bravery of the Scotch Grey Regiment on that occasion.

A particular relick caused me to carry back my thoughts towards more distant times; it was a seat or elbow chair, made with the wood which remained of the house where

"William Wallace was put to death by felon hand 1

For guarding weel his father land."

So says the inscription.

From the armoury I passed into the library, again crossing the apartments I had already visited. Here, I confess, that had I not feared the imputation of being impertinent, I should have asked the housekeeper's permission to devote a good hour to an inspection of the poet's books, of which, however, the greater part is at Edinburgh. With what avidity should I have opened those which I might have suspected of being most frequently read! How excellently well an hour of solitude would have been employed among those treasures! The shelves of one case were occupied by German and Danish works; those of another by Italian and Spanish books. In the compartments dedicated to French books, I observed a fine collection of our fabliaux and chronicles, a Montaigne, Corneille, the latter a magnificent edition, &c. I could have wished to have detected Racine; but it was not there, or I knew not where to find it. Among the English books I saw a copy of the Monastery, and on a table were many volumes of the novels and tales by the author of Waverley. I opened the Antiquary, and read a page, for the pleasure of re-perusing it on some future day, while recalling to mind the spot where I perused it.