vigour and energy, which, under happy and kindly influences, was yet a characteristic of her buoyant temperament. "You will be pleased to think of me, as I now am, in constant, almost daily, intercourse with Sir Walter Scott, who has greeted me to this mountain land in the kindest manner, and with whom I talk freely and happily, as to an old familiar friend. I have taken several long walks with him over moor and brae, and it is indeed delightful to see him thus, and to hear him pour forth, from the fulness of his rich mind and peopled memory, song, and legend, and tale of old, until I could almost fancy I heard the gathering-cry of some chieftain of the hills, so completely does his spirit carry me back to the days of the slogan and the firecross. The other day, he most kindly made a party to take me to the banks of Yarrow, about ten miles from hence. I went with him in an open carriage. We forded Ettrick river, passed Carterhaugh (the scene of the wild fairy legend of Tam o' Linn'), and many a cairn and field of old combat, the heroes of which seemed to start up before me, in answer to the 'mighty master's' voice, which related their deeds as we went by. And he is, indeed, a fitting narrator: his whole countenance-the predominant expression of which is generally a sort of arch benevolence— changes at the slightest allusion to any bold emprize.' It is 'As the stream late conceal'd In the light of its billows;' or like the war-horse at the sound of the trumpet. Sometimes, in reciting a verse of old martial song, he will suddenly spring up, and one feels ready to exclaim 'Charge, Chester, charge!-on, Stanley, on!' so completely is the electric chain struck by his own high emotion. But Yarrow! beautiful Yarrow! we wound along its banks, through some stately ground belonging to the Duke of Buccleuch; and was it not like a dream to be walking there with Sir Walter Scott by my side, reciting, every now and then, some verse of the fine old ballad? We visited Newark Tower, and returned to Abbotsford through the Tweed. The rest of the day was passed at that glorious place, the hall of which, in particular, is a scene to dream of, with the rich, purple light streaming in through its coloured windows, and mantling its stately suits of armour and heraldic blazonries. We had a great deal of music in the evening-Sir Walter is particularly fond of national airs-and I played many of my waltzes, and mazurkas, and Spanish melodies, for which I wish you could have heard how kindly and gracefully he thanked me.' I am fortunate in seeing him, as I do, surrounded only by his children and grandchildren, wandering through his own woods, taking the fresh delight of an unquenchably youthful spirit in the creations of his own hands. It is all so healthful to see and feel! The boys, too, are quite at home with him, and he sometimes sings to Charlie— 1His words, treasured up by her boys, were, "I should say you had too many gifts, Mrs. Hemans, were they not all made to give pleasure to those around you." Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling, "We are going to Abbotsford on Saturday, to pass some days, and then I return to Edinburgh. "I have said nothing of the Dominie-even the original Dominie Sampson, with whom I have lately become acquainted-nor of my American friends, the Wares, who dined at Chiefswood the other day (I having been introduced to Mrs. Ware on the very pinnacle of Melrose Abbey, by moonlight)-nor of Mr. Hamilton himself, whose mind developes so delightfully -but all these will be amongst the bright recollections I shall bring away with me." A few days later Mrs. Hemans wrote:-"I have now had the gratification of seeing Sir Walter in 1One day, when he had taken them both out to walk with him, they were so emboldened by his condescending good-nature, that one of them, thinking it an excellent opportunity to settle a question which he had often heard speculated upon at home, daringly inquired" Sir Walter, what did you mean by those two lines in The Lady of the Lake 'Fox-glove and nightshade, side by side, Emblems of punishment and pride?' Mamma has always been dying to know, and aunt Harriet has been puzzling about it all her life." “Why, my dear little fellow," answered the benignant bard, "I can only hope when you write poetry, that you will make much better sense of it; for those emblems, in fact, are very bad ones. I merely chose the fox-glove to exemplify pride, from its being so tall and stately; and nightshade, you know, is poisonous, and so might be made the means of punishment; but I believe hemlock would have been more to the purpose." VOL. I.. - 17 every point of view I could desire: we had one of the French princes here yesterday, with his suite—the Duc de Chartres, son of the Duc d'Orleans, and there was naturally some little excitement diffused through the household by the arrival of a royal guest. Sir Walter was, however, exactly the same, in his own manly simplicity-kind, courteous, unaffected-' his foot upon his native heath;' and his attention even to Henry and Charles, and their little indulgencies, considerate and watchful as ever. I must say a few words of the duke, who is a very elegant young man, possessing a finished and really noble grace of manner, which conveys at once the idea of Sir Philip Sidney's high thoughts, seated in a heart of courtesy,' and which one likes to consider as an appanage of royal blood. I was a little nervous when Sir Walter handed me to the piano, on which I was the sole performer, for the delectation of the courtly party." 1 One of the things which particularly struck her imagination, amongst the thousand relics at Abbotsford, was the "sad, fearful picture of Queen Mary in the dining-room." And "Oh! the bright swords!" -she breaks forth in one of her letters-"I must not forget to tell you how I sat, like Minna in The Pirate (though she stood or moved, I believe), the very queen of swords.' I have the strongest love for the flash of glittering steel-and Sir Walter brought out I know not how many gallant blades to show me; one which 1 Fearful, indeed-representing her head in a charger, like John the Baptist's; and painted the day after her execution at Fotheringay, by Amias Canrood. had fought at Killiecrankie, and one which had belonged to the young Prince Henry, James the First's son, and one which looked of as noble race and temper as that with which Cœur de Lion severed the block of steel in Saladin's tent." This visit to Abbotsford was a bright passage in her life, never referred to without a rekindling of chivalrous and affectionate enthusiasm. She had contemplated recording her recollections of it in the little volume of prose sketches already alluded to, as one of the many projects she was not permitted to accomplish. With this view, she wrote down the slight notes which follow (and which have never been hitherto in any way made use of), intending to amplify them at some future opportunity. "July, 1829.—I walked with Sir Walter Scott through the Rhymour's Glen. He showed me the site of a little hamlet, which had been deserted on account of the supposed visits of a spirit. He described to me some extraordinary cavern scenes he had explored in his voyage round the northern coasts and isles of Scotland; mentioned his having sometimes heard the low, rolling murmur of storms in the air along those dreary coasts, for hours before the bursting of the tempest; told me of a friend of his, a man of by no means an imaginative mind, who had heard the Wild Huntsman in the air at night, at Valenciennes. So persuaded was this gentleman that a real chase was sweeping past him through the streets, that he turned aside into the porch of a church in order to make way for it. Nothing, however, was visible; and he at last became affected with feelings |