SIR WALTER SCOTT was the son of Mr. Walter Scott, W. S., and was born in Edinburgh, on the 15th of August, 1771. His father (an amiable and persevering character, but by no means a man of brilliant parts,) married, rather early in life, Anne, daughter of Dr. Rutherford, Professor of Medicine in the University of Edinburgh, by whom he had issue six sons and one daughter. Of these our poet was the third. The family on his father's side was highly respectable, and indeed noble. In the notes to the Wa

verley novels, but more especially to his poetical compositions, we cannot but observe the honest pride and anxiety which are exhibited to proclaim the dignity and uphold the fame of a long line of chivalric ancestry. In his youth, Sir Walter displayed but little of that surpassing genius by which he afterwards became so distinguished; and at the age of eight years was placed in the high school of Édinburgh, over which Dr. Adams then presided. It is even said that he here manifested a peculiar dulness of intellect ; and, on the occasion of some eminent person (whose name we forget) visiting. the establishment, was pointed out as VOL. I.-No. 5.

having "the thickest skull in the whole school." "That may be," said the visitor, after a little conversation with the subject of our narrative, "but through that 'thick skull' I perceive certain dawnings of future greatness." We are happy in having it in our power to give the following affecting lines, written by Sir Walter Scott when only nine years of age. They were given to a friend of ours, high in the literary world, by the illustrious writer himself, who stated that he believed them to be among his first efforts in the path of rhyme. We insert them partly because of the affecting interest which events will throw around their perusal, and partly to justify our assertion that Scott did not in youth display that mental dulness which is universally attributed to him. They appear to have been written on the death of a companion:

"So good, so kind, so very mild;
In mind a man, in heart a child.
Oh! since so soon thy sun is set,
Would God that we had never met;
Or, if the stroke of death must be,
Oh! would that I had died for thee!

WALTER SCOTT, June 3rd, 1780." The real cause, in fact, of this abstract2 c

edness (for it was nothing more), Scott himself explains in his preface to the new issue of Waverley novels. He says,

"I must refer to a very early period of my life, were I to point out my first achievements as a tale-teller; but I believe some of my old schoolfellows can still bear witness that I had a distinguished character for that talent, at a time when the applause of my companions was my recompence for the disgraces and punishments which the future romance writer incurred for being idle himself, and keeping others idle, during hours that should have been employed on our tasks. The chief enjoyment of my holidays was to escape with a chosen friend, who had the same taste with myself, and alternately to recite to each other such wild adventures as we were able to devise. We told, each in turn, interminable tales of knight-errantry and battles and enchantments, which were continued from one day to another as opportunity offered, without our ever thinking of bringing them to a conclusion. As we observed a strict secresy on the subject of this intercourse, it acquired all the character of a concealed pleasure; and we used to select for the scenes of our indulgence, long walks through the solitary and romantic environs of Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, Braid Hills, and similar places in the vicinity of Edinburgh; and the recollection of those holidays still forms an oasis in the pilgrimage which I have to look back upon.'

On the 20th of October, 1783, our hero entered the University of Edinburgh; but here ill-health prevented him from pursuing his law studies (in which it was the earnest desire of his father he should excel) with any degree of advantage. As his natural turn of mind rendered this portion of his education peculiarly arduous, it was deemed absolutely necessary, for the preservation of his life, that he should, for the present at least, relinquish so irksome and laborious a pursuit. haps, on the whole, we have no reason to regret this event, as it gave him an opportunity of cultivating that taste for general

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literature which afterwards earned for him the admiration of a world. His autobiography of this period is extremely interesting he says of himself,

more covering than one thin counterpane. When the reader is informed that I was at this time a growing youth, with the spirits, appetite, and impatience of fifteen, and suffered, of course, greatly under this severe regimen, which the repeated return of my disorder rendered indispensable, he will not be surprised that I was abandoned to my own discretion, so far as reading (my almost sole amusement) was concerned, and still less so, that I abused the indulgence which left my time so much at my own disposal.

"There was at this time a circulating library at Edinburgh, founded, I believe, by the celebrated Allan Ramsay, which, besides containing a most respectable collection of books of every description, was, as might have been expected, peculiarly rich in works of fiction. I was plunged into this great ocean of reading without compass or pilot; and, unless when some one had the charity to play at chess with me, I was allowed to do nothing save read from morning to night. As my taste and appetite were gratified in nothing else, I indemnified myself by becoming a glutton of books. Accordingly, I believe I read almost all the old romances, old plays, and epic poetry in that formidable collection, and no doubt was unconsciously amassing materials for the task in which it has been my lot to be so much employed.

"At the same time, I did not in all respects abuse the licence permitted me. Familiar acquaintance with the specious miracles of fiction brought with it some degree of satiety, and I began by degrees to seek in histories, memoirs, voyages and travels, and the like, events nearly as wonderful as those which were the works of the imagination, with the additional advantage that they were, at least in a great measure, true. The lapse of nearly two years, during which I was left to the service of my own free will, was followed by a temporary residence in the country, where I was again very lonely, but for the amusement which I derived from a good, though old-fashioned library. The vague

and wild use which I made of this advantage I cannot better describe than by referring my reader to the desultory studies of Waverley in a similar situation, the passages concerning whose reading were imitated from recollections of my own."

About his 16th year Scott's health in some degree returned, although his lameness (occasioned by a fall from the nurse's arms when an infant,) still continued. The latter event entirely prevented the fulfilment of a desire which he had early cherished of entering the army, and it was now again determined that he should follow his father's profession, and study for the bar. As we have before hinted, however,

Scott never manifested any particular eagerness in the pursuit of legal knowledge. The same enthusiastic love of literature still haunted him night and day; and although, on the 11th of July, 1792, he passed Advocate with the required forms, yet neither his inclination nor pecuniary necessities were such as to induce him to show any particular emulation to vie with his more ambitious brethren. His briefs were often scribbled over with scraps and sketches of poetry and prose; and, in proof of this, we have been favoured by a venerable legal friend, formerly connected with the Scottish Courts of Judicature, with the following morceaux, which he assures us are copied verbatim from the outside of a brief in a light criminal case which was once intrusted to Sir Walter, and that he has the MS. in his (Sir Walter's) own hand-writing. "Buccleuch! the war sound of thy name Still echoes in the trump of Fame; The mountain top, the heathy wild, O'er which I wandered when a child, In Fancy's dreamings seem to me Yet telling of thy chivalry; And Tweed * ***

"Am I a Scott? then where my blade? See how each frowning warrior-shade Points to the sheath where slumb'ring lies of a thousand victories."

In 1793 Sir Walter became acquainted with Mr. M. G. Lewis (familiarly called Monk Lewis), and through him grew deeply enamoured of the German school of literature; and in 1796 appeared his first publication, in the shape of two poems,"Leonore," and "The Wild Huntsman,' both translated from the German, and published anonymously. Other translations of these poems, however, some of which, it must be confessed, possessed more merit, appearing about the same time, the speculation proved a decided failure. This was speedily followed by "Goetz of Berlenchingen," a tragedy, also from the German, and two contributions to Lewis's "Tales of Wonder."

In 1797 Sir Walter was married to Miss Margaret Charlotte Carpenter, the daughter of a gentleman of some property, who departed this life a short time previously. This young lady was a ward of Lord Downshire's, and possessed of an annuity of about £400 per annum. She is described as a lovely and amiable woman,

and very intelligent. In 1799 his father died, aged 70 years, and in December following our poet obtained the Crown appointment of Sheriff of Selkirkshire, worth £300 a-year. At this period Scott commenced making a collection of ballad poetry of the wild and romantic district of Liddesdale, and other parts of his native country, which, with notes of his own, he published in 1802. Passing over the less important events of his life, we will come at once to the appearance of a work which may be said to have laid the foundation of his poetic fame. We allude to the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," which issued from the press of his old friend and schoolfellow, Mr. Ballantyne, in the year 1805, and was previously purchased by the house of Constable and Co., for the sum of £600. This poem is decidedly our favourite: it exhibits a degree of grace and beauty throughout exceedingly striking, and the interludes to the several portions of the tale are full of pathos and high poetic feeling. We will refer to the Author's account of the circumstances to which we are indebted for the subject.

"The lovely young Countess of Dalkeith, afterwards Harriet Duchess of Buccleuch, had come to the land of her husband with the desire of making herself acquainted with its traditions and customs. Of course, where all made it a pride and pleasure to gratify her wishes, she soon heard enough of Border lore: among others, an aged gentleman of property, near Langholm, communicated to her ladyship the story of Gilpin Horner,—a tradition in which the narrator and many more of that county were firm believers. The young Countess, much delighted with the legend, and the gravity and full confidence with which it was told, enjoined it on me, as a task, to compose a ballad on the subject. Of course, to hear was to obey; and thus the goblin story, objected to by several critics as an excrescence on the poem, was in fact the occasion of its being written.”

The perusal of this poem gained for our author the valuable patronage of Mr. Pitt; and it appearing probable that the office of Principal Clerk of the Court of Session would soon fall vacant, such arrangements were entered into as enabled Sir Walter to obtain the appointment, upon condition that he would perform the duties gratis during the lifetime of the then incumbent, receiving the emoluments (£1200 per annum) at the death of the latter. These arrangements had not been officially