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SLR WALTER SCOTT. 155

shrough the air. The meteor disappears for ever when it has by combustion parted with its constituents, which from that time are added, in one form or other, to the bulk of our own globe.

Hence the atmosphere may be regarded as an impene- trable shield, protecting us from many dangerous en- counters to which we should otherwise be exposed; affording another illustration of the providential arrange- ments of the Great Architect of the universe, “ Whose tender mercies are over all His works.”

FIG. 2.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

SAVE revival of public interest in the novels of i Scott, evoked by the centenary of that great writer’s birth, is a hopeful sign of a more healthy taste among the readers of fiction; we trust it is an assurance that the British people, sated with the unwholesome literature of the sensational school, are returning to a purer atmo- sphere of romance, and have discovered that a story may be of absorbing interest, and yet teach lessons of virtue, purity, and chivalrous truth. It is impossible to ignore the influence of modern fiction as a teacher: at times, and under circumstances when the sermon or the moral essay are powerless to instruct, the novel or poem, which is in every body’s hands, is teaching, through the words and example of its characters, lessons of good or evil. Hence it is most important that the mind which is seeking rest and refreshment by dwelling for a time in an ideal world, should have a wholesome and pure world, not one of crime and unhealthy excitement, where decency and morality are either quietly ignored or openly outraged. We trust, for the sake of the youth of Britain, which is to represent our manhood and womanhood in the next generation, that the age of sensational literature has well-nigh worn itself out, and that the days are fast passing away when educated people are content to praise such writers as Walter Scott and not to read them. We will endeavour in this paper to wander, in company with our readers, through the fairyland of romance, which

nearly half a century ago was opened to us by the skill

of the great Magician: and to look upon the motley crowd of characters which meet us at every turn, not only as pleasant companions, but as teachers whose schooling never wearies us and never fails to do us good. It is indeed a goodly company through which we shall wander, one composed of almost every character, age, and country. The voices which speak to us will be most varied and dissimilar, varying from the clear treble of a gentle maiden, to the deep bass of a mailed crusader. Now we shall hear the sturdy Saxon tongue of Cedric or Ivanhoe, contrasting with the soft romance language of Brian du Bois Gilbert, now the broad Scotch accents of Jeanie Deans, answering the sweet southern speech of Isabelle of Croye. The countries too and the times through which we must pass are widely separated. Now we are in bonnie Scotland, amid the scenes which our author loved best to paint, within the shadows of Lochlevin’s castle, or amongst the wild rocks and crags of Orkney, or in the streets of Edinburgh, or with the highland folk, amongst the braes and heather. Now we are far away in Palestine, with knights and crusaders, and kings and paladins: presently we are in merry England, not so merry then, by reason of the troublous times of “the ’45;” anon in London with the English Solomon King James I., and later with his wild grandson and his friends. We may penetrate into the secrets of grim Louis the Eleventh’s castle, or attend a Puritan conventicle, or share the sorrows of fair Mary Stuart, or join Raleigh in attendance on haughty Elizabeth, or visit an ordinary with Lord Dalgarno and such wild company ; we may ramble beneath “ the green- wood tree” with Robin Hood and that merry company of outlaws. or follow Claverhouse in his fierce raids upon the hill-folk who loved the covenant and hated bishops; we may pursue the fortunes of the young Chevalier, andsing “Charlie is my darling,” with those who wear the white cockade, or join in dangerous intrigues with Rob Roy and Red Gauntlet, and lose ourselves in the mystery of such fair plotters as Di Vernon. Her name at once calls up a crowd of fair phantoms, and brings back an echo of sweet voices which we shall do well to listen to.

It is a marvel that Tennyson did not include in his “Dream of Fair Women,” some of the heroines of Scott ; they form a right lovely and lovable company, from which poet, painter, and dramatist may draw many a peerless subject for his art. There is not a woman living who will not be the better for the company of high-souled, chivalrous Rebecca, or sad-eyed, lonely Amy Robsart, or Alice Bridgenorth the Puritan’s daughter, or bonnie brave-hearted Jeanie Deans, or luckless Lucy Ashton. The novels from which these and crowds of other life-like characters come forth may be divided into groups, treat- ing of the same class of subjects. It is not our intention to speak so much of the date and circumstances of their publication as of the works themselves, and of those who live and act and speak in them.

The first group which comes before us comprises the novels of medieval chivalry, novels which are unrivalled in any age or literature. They include the stories of “he Talisman,” “ Ivanhoe,” and “ The Betrothed Lie is refreshing and elevating withal, in these days of practical men, who sneer at romance, and call chivalry nonsense, who ask if a thing “ will pay,” rather than if it be pure and noble, to travel back in company with Scott to the old days of hard blows and knightly honour, days which, if rightly styled “ dark ages,” and “ barbarous