Novels, are sometimes quoted either from reading or from memory, but, in the general case, are pure invention. I found it too troublesome to turn to the collection of the British Poets to discover apposite mottoes, and, in the situation of the theatrical mechanist, who, when the white paper which represented his shower of snow was exhausted, continued the shower oy snowing brown, I drew on my memory as long as I could, and when that failed, eked it out with invention. I believe that, in some cases, where actual names are affixed to the supposed quotations, it would be to little purpose to seek them in the works of the authors referred to. In some cases, I have been entertained when Dr. Watts and other graver authors have been ransacked in vain for stanzas for which the novelist alone was responsible.”—Introduction to Chronicles of the Canongate. 1. I knew Anselmo. He was shrewd and prudent, Or the rare melody of some old ditty, About I know not what !-nothing, indeed; (6.) CHAP. XX. If you fail honor here, Never presume to serve her any more; (7.)-CHAP. XXI. The Lord Abbot had a soul Subtile and quick, and searching as the fire: caves, Known, save to me, to none The Wonder of a Kingdome. (8.)-CHAP. XXVII. Many great ones Would part with half their states, to have the plan That first was sung to please King Pepin's cradle. And credit to beg in the first style. Beggar's Bush. Who is he?-One that for the lack of land (10.)-CHAP. XXXI. Old Play. Tell me not of it, friend-when the young weep, Their tears are lukewarm brine;-from our old eyes Sorrow falls down like hail-drops of the North, Chilling the furrows of our wither'd cheeks, Cold as our hopes, and harden'd as our feelingTheirs, as they fall, sink sightless-ours recoil, Heap the fair plain, and bleaken all before us. Old Play. (11.)-CHAP. XXXIII. Remorse she ne'er forsakes us !- (18.)-CHAP. XLII. Let those go see who will-I like it not- (19.)-CHAP. XLIII. Fortune, you say, flies from us-She but circles, (20.)-CHAP. XLIV. Nay, if she love me not, I care not for her: ["It may be worth noting, that it was in correcting the proof-sheets of The Antiquary that Scott first took to equipping his chapters with mottoes of his own fabrication. On one occasion he happened to ask John Ballantyne, who was sitting by him, to hunt for a particular passage in Beaumont and Fletcher. John did as he was bid, but did not succeed in discovering the lines. 'Hang it, Johnnie,' cried Scott, 'I believe I can make a motto sooner than you will find one.' He did so accordingly; and from that hour, whenever memory failed to suggest an appropriate epigraph, he had recourse to the inexhaustible mines of 'old play' or 'old ballad, to which we owe some of the most exquisite verses that ever flowed from his pen."-Life, vol. v. p. 145.] From the Black Dwarf. 1816. MOTTOES. (1.)-CHAP. V. THE bleakest rock upon the loneliest heath Feels, in its barrenness, some touch of spring; And, in the April dew, or beam of May, In the far eastern clime, no great while since, III. This Solimaun, Serendib had in sway- IV. Serendib found, deem not my tale a fiction- I wot not-but the Sultaun never laugh'd, V. Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried, As e'er scrawl'd jargon in a darken'd room; With heedful glance the Sultaun's tongue they eyed, Peep'd in his bath, and God knows where beside, And then in solemn accent spoke their doom, More and yet more in deep array appear, Came surgeon eke, and eke apothecary; Yet dropt, to recompense their fruitless labor, * See the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. 4 See Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy. 5 For these hard words see D'Herbelot, or the learned editor of the Recipes of Avicenna. E'en let the learn'd go search, and tell me if I'm Where grave physicians lose their time and wit) wrong. VII. The Omrahs, each with hand on scymitar, Gave, like Sempronius, still their voice for war"The sabre of the Sultaun in its sheath Too long has slept, nor own'd the work of death; Let the Tambourgi bid his signal rattle, Resolved to take advice of an old woman; Or only made believe, I cannot say- Bang the loud gong, and raise the shout of bat- She deem'd it fitting time to use her own. tle! This dreary cloud that dims our sovereign's day, Shall from his kindled bosom flit away, When the bold Lootie wheels his courser round, The Riots who attended in their places From this oration auguring much disquiet, VIII. And next came forth the reverend Convocation, Bald heads, white beards, and many a turban green, Imaum and Mollah there of every station, Santon, Fakir, and Calendar were seen. Their votes were various-some advised a Mosque With fitting revenues should be erected, With seemly gardens and with gay Kiosque, To recreate a band of priests selected; Others opined that through the realms a dole Be made to holy men, whose prayers might profit The Sultaun's weal in body and in soul. 1 See Sir John Malcolm's admirable History of Persia. X. "Sympathia magica hath wonders done" I mean his SHIRT, my son; which, taken warm But, says the Chronicle (who will go look it), |