and unexpected reply. For example, some dullard, who, boggling at cum, being asked, "What part of speech is with?" answered, "A substantive." The Rector, after a moment's pause, thought it worth while to ask his dux, "Is with ever a substantive?" But all were silent until the query reached Scott, then near the bottom of the class, who instantly responded by quoting a verse of the Book of Judges: "And Samson said unto Delilah, If they bind me with seven green withs that were never dried, then shall I be weak, and as another man."

Bright boys are not always very popular with their schoolmates; but, though Walter Scott had the advantage in some things, he was not envied, and was much liked. He had some qualities which youth admires. He was brave, and he was a capital storyteller. Notwithstanding his lameness, he excelled in climbing, lifting weights, and using muscular force. He was always ready to fight (the great test of manliness at school), provided his antagonist would meet him on even terms, face to face, each strapped to a plank. Then he was the romancist of his division; narratives of his own ready coinage, interminable, and crowded with wild and wonderful adventures, drawing his class-fellows to listen even in schoolhours, at the risk of punishment from the "taws;" and, before and after these hours, the lads would crowd around him, eagerly listening to his tales.

The elder Scott, not content with placing his sons in the High School to scramble for such learning as they could pick up, gave them the great advantage, in the evenings, of being carefully prepared by a competent private tutor, who had been educated for the sacred ministry. From him the future author learned writing and arithmetic; to him were repeated the French lessons; and with him the classics were studied. Tutor and pupil used to argue, when time per

ÆT. 12.]

FIRST VERSES.

35

mitted, on the early history of the Church of Scotland, the wars and sufferings of the Covenanters, and so forth. "I, with a head on fire for chivalry, was a Cavalier," said Scott; "my friend was a Roundhead: I was a Tory, and he was a Whig: I hated Presbyterians, and admired Montrose with his victorious Highlanders; he liked the Presbyterian Ulysses, the dark and politic Argyle: so that we never wanted subjects of dispute; but our disputes were always amicable. In all these tenets, there was no real conviction, on my part, arising out of acquaintance with the views or principles of either party; nor had my antagonist address enough to turn the debate on such topics. took up my politics at that period, as King Charles II. did his religion,—from an idea that the Cavalier creed was the more gentlemanlike persuasion of the two.

Writing in 1826, Scott declared that he was never a dunce, nor thought to be so, but an incorrigibly idle imp, who was always longing to do something else than what was enjoined him. From Dr. Adam he first learned the value of the knowledge which had hitherto been considered a burdensome task. Under him, the difficulties of the Latin writers were conquered; and the boy began to be sensible of their beauties. Encouragement and praise were the rewards of this successful labor; and a proud day came when the Rector declared, that, though many of the pupils understood the Latin better, "Gualterus Scott was behind few in following and enjoying the author's meaning." Next followed attempts at poetical versions from Horace and Virgil. One of these little pieces, carefully preserved by his mother, and affectionately indorsed, "My Walter's first lines, 1812," which had been considered the second best on that occasion, ran thus:—

"In awful ruins, Ætna thunders nigh,

And sends in pitchy whirlwinds to the sky

Black clouds of smoke, which still as they aspire,
From their dark sides there bursts the glowing fire;
At other times huge balls of fire are tossed,
That lick the stars, and in the smoke are lost:
Sometimes the mount, with vast convulsions torn,
Emits huge rocks, which instantly are borne
With loud explosions to the starry skies,
The stones made liquid as the huge mass flies;
Then back again with greater weight recoils,
While Etna, thundering, from the bottom boils."

When Scott had achieved greatness, Adam repeatedly reminded him of his obligations to the High School. His renowned pupil said of him, "He was indeed deeply imbued with that fortunate vanity which alone could induce a man who has arms to pare and burn a muir to submit to the yet more toilsome task of cultivating youth. As Catholics confide in the imputed righteousness of their saints, so did the good old doctor plume himself upon the success of his scholars in life; all of which he never failed (and often justly) to claim as the creation, or at least the fruits, of his early instructions. He remembered the fate of every boy at his school during the fifty years he had superintended it, and always traced their success or misfortunes entirely to their attention or negligence when under his care. His 'noisy mansion,' which to others would have been a melancholy bedlam, was the pride of his heart; and the only fatigues he felt amidst din and tumult, and the necessity of reading themes, hearing lessons, and maintaining some degree of order at the same time, were relieved by comparing himself to Cæsar, who could dictate to three secretaries at once, so ready is vanity to lighten the labors of duty." Stricken with palsy while teaching his class, he survived a few days, but, becoming delirious before his dissolution, conceived he was still in school; and, after some expressions of applause or censure, he said, "But it

ÆT. 12.]

BYRON'S FIRST RHYMES.

37

grows dark; the boys may dismiss," and instantly expired. He had preserved among his papers, in an envelope, indorsed "Walter Scott, July, 1783," three short pieces, of which this quatrain may serve as an example:

"We often praise the evening clouds,
And tints so gay and bold,
But seldom think upon our God,

Who tinged these clouds with gold."

These lines, written by a boy of twelve, though not equal to the early effusions of Cowley and Pope, who

"Lisped in numbers, for the numbers came,"

may safely bear comparison with Lord Byron's " first dash into poetry" (to use his own words) at an equally mature age. As this, though published in the first edition of Moore's "Life of Byron," is not to be found in any subsequent issue, it may be worth repeating. An old lady who had been on a visit to his mother, and believed, that, after death, the soul, like Astolfo's lost wits, would fly to the moon, had offended Byron; and, on her repeating the contumely, he broke out into this impromptu:

"In Nottingham County, there lives at Swan Green
As cursed an old lady as ever was seen;

And when she does die, which I hope will be soon,
She firmly believes she will go to the moon."

In 1783, Scott completed his time at the High School, and, according to local custom, ought at once to have passed into the University of Edinburgh; but his health, though greatly improved, was not good, and it was resolved to give him the advantage of country residence near Kelso. His aunt, Miss Janet Scott, lived there in a small house, then the

property of his father, which stood in a large and pleasant garden. He went to school in Kelso for four hours in the day; and the rest of his time was wholly at his own disposal. The teacher, Lancelot Whale, an excellent scholar, welcomed a pupil with higher attainments than ordinary, and devoted so much attention to him, that the youth's advancement was considerable.

Whale had such an unconcealed dislike for polite literature, that he thought it almost a sin to open "a profane play or poem." Scott, on the contrary, read every thing, history, poetry, voyages, travels, and romance, including fairy-tales and Oriental stories. He had already made some acquaintance with Shakspeare, having found some odd volumes in his mother's dressing-room, where at one time he slept.

"Nor." he says, "can I easily forget the rapture with which I sat up in my shirt, reading them by the light of a fire in her apartment, until the bustle of the family rising from supper warned me it was time to creep back to my bed, where I was supposed to have been safely deposited since nine o'clock.'

Dr. Blacklock, the blind poet, one of the first afterwards to discover and proclaim the genius of Robert Burns, appears to have taken a fancy to Scott before he had left the High School, and recommended him to read Ossian and Spenser. He did not relish the repetitions of the Ossianic inflated phraseology, but said that he could have read Spenser forever, utterly disregarding the allegory, but considering all the knights and ladies and dragons and giants in their outward and exoteric sense, and delighted to find himself in such society. Having a wonderful facility in remembering verses, the quantity of Spenser's stanzas which he could repeat was "really marvellous." But this faculty of memory was in force only to retain what Scott liked. "It seldom failed," he has recorded,