road. Scott's father was rather annoyed at these escapades, although he was so glad to see him. when he returned, that, like Kish with Saul, he forgot the meditated rebuke. Scott's nickname among his own set was Duns Scotus, or sometimes by an alias of his own creation, Colonel Grogg. His dress at this time was neglected: corduroy breeches were his common attire; and when reproached with their meanness, his reply was, 'They be good enough for drinking in: come, and let us have some oysters in the Covenant Close.' These convivialities, however, were afterwards relinquished. In his maturer years he was a strictly temperate man; and from grosser dissipation he was kept almost entirely free, through means of a pure and passionate attachment, of which we shall speak in the sequel.

1

In 1792 (11th July) Scott was called to the bar. He had joined previously the Speculative Society, where Jeffrey first saw him, his chafts (Scottice) wrapt up in a large woollen nightcap, the poet being ill of toothache, and yet able to read a paper on old ballads, which so interested Jeffrey, that he got introduced to him, and they became great allies. Like most young advocates, Scott had little business at first; but he drank claret at Fortune's, and ate oysters in St. John's Coffeehouse, dear to him

as erst the haunt of Dr. Pitcairn; read now Stair's Decisions, and now the last new novel; and every day might be seen sweeping with his gown the boards of that Parliament House which seems the Hall of Eblis to many a weary and briefless peripatetic.

In the autumn of this year he was introduced to Mr. Robert Shortreed, the respected Sheriff-substitute of Roxburghshire, and this led to a most important section of Scott's life. He had felt a strong desire, which was now gratified, to visit Liddesdale, and collect the ballads and traditions which were floating there, especially those riding ballads which he believed to be still preserved among the descendants of the mosstroopers. For seven successive years the twain persevered in making autumnal excursions to that romantic region. Liddesdale was then not much better known than the interior of Africa is now.

'It lay like some unkenned of isle
Ayont New Holland.'

But Scott and Shortreed were richly rewarded for their daring exploration. They saw fine mountain scenes, drank in pure air, collected songs and traditions, told stories, galloped long miles, climbed hills, pursued foxes, speared salmon, lay in

Charlieshopes without number, kissed fraternally the farmers' wives, fondled the children, floored if possible at their own weapons of strong waters the goodmen ; acted, in short, exactly as Captain Brown did when residing with Dandie Dinmont, or as an electioneering candidate is in the habit of doing, but with a very different motive from the member; the one purchasing selfish popularity, and the other laying in the materials of universal fame by condescension and kindness. The story, 'There's the keg at last,' is too familiar to require to be recounted. He was making himsel' a' the time,' says honest Shortreed, but he didna ken what he was about till years had passed. At first he thought o' little, I daresay, but the queerness and the fun.'

From these visits came in due time the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. It has been said, absurdly we think, that Scott had no pleasure while writing his poems and novels. He had none, indeed, of that half-inebriated ecstasy with which Burns wrote his Tam o' Shanter, nor of that lingering, long drawn out, concentrated pleasure with which Wordsworth brooded over his thoughts while forming them into verse, saying, as it were, to each, 'I will not let thee go except thou bless me.' Yet surely, if he had neither the joy of inspiration nor of incubation, he had a large measure of delight

while, amid the freshness of morning nature, with the sound of the Tweed in his ears, or the sun smiting the Castle rock before his eyes, he indited pages which he knew were as immortal and as pure as those waters or that sun-fire. But at all events he had enjoyment, the most exquisite and varied, while collecting their materials amongst the mosses or by the firesides of the Border: he was then luxuriating as well as 'making himself,' and probably looked back long afterwards to this as to the happiest period of his existence.

&

CHAPTER III.

EARLY LOVE, LITERATURE, MARRIAGE, AND

POETRY.

ETTERCAIRN is a small estate in Kincardineshire, situated near the pleasant

village of that name, on a rich level and

stream-bisected spot, not far from the foot of the Grampians, which here somewhat stoop their mighty stature, and appear as it were kneeling before the German Ocean. Fettercairn is not only beautiful in itself, but surrounded on all sides by interesting scenes. The spot where Queen Finella's castle (a vitrified fort where Kenneth III. was murdered) is said to have stood is near it. The Burn, with all its marvellous woodland and water-side beauties, stands a few miles to the west; and near it is the lovely Arnhall, with its fine old park, garden, and legendary memories. Fasque, the seat of the Gladstone family, is behind to the north, and in the same direction a steep hill-road conducts over the