viously accepted invitation to dinner on the score of the "death of an old friend." When he failed financially, one of his chief anxieties was lest his four-footed pets and his servants should not be comfortably provided for in their old age. The magnificent monument in Edinburgh, opposite the Old Waverley Hotel, is covered with statues of different personages in his novels; but the place of honor, beside the seated master under the canopy of exquisite marble, is occupied by one of these loved dogs. Financial Affairs. - With the free-handed generosity of his temperament, it was natural that Scott should always have been inclined to spend money before he had earned it. As Abbotsford grew, his ambitions grew still faster, until only a princely fortune could satisfy them. It is a Latter of regret to his lovers that he should have cared more to possess a great manorial estate and to have placed upon his tomb, "Walter Scott, Baronet," than to be known as "The Magician of the North." But it was so. During his prosperous years money poured in so lavishly from his romances that the supply seemed inexhaustible and was constantly overdrawn. A most unfortunate partnership was formed with two brothers named Ballantyne, one of whom had been an old schoolfellow; the other was none too honest; all three lacked judgment regarding the merits of most books except Scott's own, and brought out many unsalable works. In 1825 came the crash, precipitated by the failure of the Constables, his other publishers. Scott refused to shield himself behind the bankrupt law, and, rising to his full height, said to his creditors: "Gentlemen, time and I against any two Let me take this good ally into company and I believe I shall be able to pay you every farthing." In three years he paid back £40,000, and when he died, his son-in-law, Mr. Lockhart, completed the task, seeing that every farthing then due was paid within fifteen years after Scott's death. Further Troubles. - No soldier ever showed himself braver in battle than was Sir Walter during the seven years in which he struggled to pay off the whole £117,000, more than half a million dollars. To these years might be applied even more truly the words used concerning the writing of Waverley by a young student who roomed in Edinburgh, across the street from the untiring author. "I have been watching that hand," he said; "it fascinates my eye; it never stops; page after page is finished and thrown on that heap of manuscript, and still it goes on unwearied; and so it will be until candles are brought in, and God knows how long after that. It is the same every night, -I can't stand a sight of it when I am not at my books." "Some stupid, dogged, engrossing clerk, probably," exclaimed a listener, "or some giddy youth in our society." "No, boys," interrupted the host, “I well know what hand it is-'tis Walter Scott's." The blow to his pride was perhaps hardest of all. But other afflictions followed quickly. His wife died within a few months; his daughter Anne was far from well; then his own health began to fail, and the dogged labor brought on paralysis. His publishers reproached him because the old witchery seemed to have departed, and he blamed himself because his numbed brain could create no more novels like the early ones. But through it all, courage and faith in God never left the dying hero. The End. - In 1831 he was taken to the Continent for his health. Immediately before his departure he was visited by Wordsworth, and the two spent a day on the banks of Yarrow. The following lines are taken from Yarrow Revisited, written by the English poet in memory of that occasion : "For thee, O Scott! compelled to change For warm Vesuvio's vine-clad slopes, "Oh! while they minister to thee, The next March occurred the death of his admired contemporary, Goethe; this made him the more impatient to return to Abbotsford before his own approaching end. He reached the Tweed, to be met there by Mr. Laidlaw and the welcoming dogs. For a little he revived, and lingered two months more. His last conscious words, an epitome of his whole life, were to his son-in-law and biographer, John Gibson Lockhart: "Lockhart, I may have but a moment to speak to you. My dear, be a good man be virtuous -be religious-be virtuous-be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here." Then, being asked if his two daughters, Sophia and Anne, should be sent for, he replied: "No, don't disturb them. Poor souls, I know they were up all night. God bless you all!" Four days later, September 21, 1832, he passed away from earth, and on the 26th the funeral cortège wound over the hills, bearing the body to the tomb of his ancestors, within the imposing ruins of Dryburgh Abbey, under the caressing branches of the grand old trees, which help to make the place one of the most beautiful in Great Britain. The Tweed flowing by is now spanned by a little suspension foot-bridge, and the sloping banks are a bower of wild roses, "falling in streamers green.' One July day the writer of this little sketch entered the railway carriage at St. Boswells, with hands full of the fragrant sweetbrier, which the old coachman had culled during our absence at the Abbey. A gentle lady and her daughter were already in the compartment. Some of the roses naturally soon found their way to the white-haired mother, and, before reaching Hawick, we learned that the ladies dwelt at the Duke of Buccleugh's castle, the Branksome Tower where the Last Minstrel chanted his Lay. "You must have just come from Dryburgh," exclaimed the daughter, "for no roses grow anywhere else as fine and sweet-scented as these of Dryburgh Abbey !" The fragrance of the wild roses was a fitting ending to our day at the home and the burialplace of Walter Scott, for, eighty-five years before, he sang, "O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave; Emblem of hope and love through future years! 99 ·The Lady of the Lake. Prelude to Canto IV. THE LADY OF THE LAKE The Lady of the Lake, the third and most universally popular of Scott's long poems, was first published, as has been said above, in 1810, and produced, within two years, the astonishing sum of £10,000. Little need be remarked here of its various editions. The fertility and fluency of its author prevented him from taking much time for revision. Many errors crept into earlier editions, but they were seldom serious. We have followed in the main the scholarly text of Dr. William J. Rolfe, who has carefully collated the various copies and original manuscript. The Lady of the Lake is a versified romance in six cantos, each canto being introduced by a short prelude, and relieved by one or more songs. The action of each canto covers one day, so that the whole is included within a week. The scene is laid in the Highlands of Western Perthshire, between Stirling Castle and Loch Lomond. The territory can be easily traversed in a single day by the tourist. It was this poem which introduced the region to the public, and made it the best-known moun |