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of supernatural fear. On mentioning the circumstance to the people with whom he lodged, they were much awe-struck, and told him it was fortunate that, heretic as he was, he had sheltered within the shadow of a Catholic church. Sir Walter repeated, with much animation, part of the Spanish ballad of · Dragut-(see Lockhart's Collection)

Row, row, my slaves, quoth Dragut,' &c. “He gave me a thrilling description of a scene which had been witnessed by a friend of his at Ehrenbreitstein — the German army of liberators crossing the Rhine after their victories. Upon the first gleam of the noble river, they burst forth into the song of .Am Rhein, am Rhein ! They were two days crossing, during which the rock and the castle rang out to the peal of this gallant strain; and even the Cossacks, as they passed over, caught the national enthusiasm, and, with the clash, and clang, and the roar of their stormy war-music, swelled out the chorus of • Am Rhein, am Rhein !'.

1 This anecdote (on which was founded her own “Rhine Song"), and the look and tone with which it was related, made an impression on her memory which nothing could efface. The very name of the “Father Rhine," the “exulting and abounding river” (how often would she quote that magnificent line of Lord Byron's!) had always worked upon her like a spell, conjuring up a thousand visions of romance and beauty; and Haydn's inspiring Rheinweinlied, with its fine, rich tide of flowing harmony, was one of the airs she most delighted in. “You are quite right,” she wrote to a friend who had echoed her enthusiasm, " it was the description of that noble Rhine scene which interested me more than any part of Sir Walter's conversation; and

“ I was much struck with a spot, where we paused a few moments, and where Huntley burn— the little stream running through the Rhymour's Glen — falls down a steep bank into a sort of natural basin, overhung with mountain ash. Sir Walter said he liked to associate the names of his friends with objects of interest in natural scenery, and, turning to an old countryman who walked with us, desired him to make a seat there, and to call it by my name. I repeated to him the image employed by a Welsh poet (Aneurin) to describe the advance of an army—the sound of their march was like the surly laughter of ocean before a storm.' He seemed much impressed by it. He told me that Cattraeth's Vale, the scene of Aneurin's poem, was supposed to be in the Ettrick country.

"A few days afterwards, I walked with him through the Hexel's Cleugh; a name which he derives from the German Hexe, a witch. He repeated some curious anecdotes of animals, of the habits of which he is very observant. He mentioned that sheep always choose for their sleeping-place in the pasture, a quarter analogous to the one whence they came; for instance, that sheep from a western country will always sleep towards the west, and so on. He spoke of dogs, and of the poor Indian, who thinks.

Admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company!' He laughed, and said, “What a train I should have in the other world! there would be Maida and Nim

I wished more that you could have heard it than all the high legends and solemn scenes of which we spoke that day."

rod, and Spicy and Ginger ; black spirits and white, blue spirits and grey.' He told me that so completely did his occasional songs and pieces of poetry pass from his mind, that one day, hearing a lady sing, • Farewell, farewell, the voice you hear' (from The Pirate), he admired the music exceedingly, and, after bestowing due praise upon it, bethought himself, to the great amusement of the company, of also highly complimenting the words. His love of music appears to me entirely the result of association; he is much interested in any air which possesses a national character, or has a story, or strong feeling connected with it. I played for him · Richard, O mon Roi !' - the Rhine Song' — the • Tragala Perro' of the Spanish Liberals - a Swiss Ranz des Vaches -- and other music of similar character, to which he listened with earnest attention; but I should not say he had naturally any strong feeling of music, merely as such, though he describes, with thrilling power, its effects in peculiar scenes and hours of public excitement." He took me to see the Yarrow. On our way, he spoke with much interest and respect of the high and proud feeling of ancestry sometimes manifested by peasant men; and told an affecting story of two brothers, descended from some noble family, but so reduced in circumstances as to be labouring for daily bread. One of these brothers died, and a gentleman,

Sir Walter's own admissions on this head went still further; for, in a letter written in 1828, to Mrs. Hemans's sister, he compared himself to Jeremy in Love for Love " having a reasonable good ear for a jig, though solos and sonatas give me the spleen.”

much interested in them, said to the survivor - You are, I know, obliged to struggle for your maintenance; leave the care of your brother's funeral to me.'—No, sir,' was the answer; 'I feel your kindness gratefully; but we are of the house of — , and, though poor and forlorn, my brother must sleep amongst his kindred, and it must be at the charge of their last descendant that he is conveyed there. Sir Walter described an amusing rencontre between himself and Platoff. They met on the Boulevards at Paris; Platoff was riding, attended by several Cossacks; he immediately dismounted, ran up to Sir Walter, threw his arms round his neck, and kissed him.

“On the banks of Yarrow, I was shown the house where Mungo Park was born. Sir Walter, in walking along the stream, one day came suddenly upon Park, who was employed, and apparently absorbed, in throwing stones into the water, and watching the bubbles that followed their descent. •Park, what is it that thus engages your attention ?' asked Sir Walter.

- I was thinking,' was the reply, “ how often I had thus tried to sound the rivers in Africa, by calculating how long a time had elapsed before the bubbles rose to the surface.'—Then,' said Scott, • I know you think of returning to Africa.'-I do, indeed, was the answer; but it is yet a secret.' We saw Park's name, inscribed by himself, in Newark tower, to which we ascended, after winding along the Yarrow through the beautiful grounds of the Duke of Buccleuch."

Here, as “little Charlie" recollects, on seeing two tourists make a precipitate retreat when the Abbotsford party approached

“On the way back, we talked a good deal of trees. I asked Sir Walter if he had not observed that every tree gives out its own peculiar sound to the wind. He said he had, and suggested to me that something might be done by the union of music and poetry, to imitate those voices of trees, giving a different measure and style to the oak, the pine, the willow, &c. He mentioned a Highland air of somewhat similar character, called • The Notes of the Sea-birds.' . “Lord Napier, at dinner, made some observations upon a recent history of the Peninsular War, in which the defence of Saragossa had been spoken of as a vain and lavish waste of life. I was delighted with the kindling animation of Sir Walter's look and tone, as he replied—“ Never let me hear that brave blood has been shed in vain! It sends a roaring voice down through all time !" In the evening we had music. Not being able to sing, I read to him the words of a Béarnaise song, on the captivity of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette in the Temple; though simple even to homeliness, they affected him to tears, and he begged me not to finish them. I think the feeling of loy

the tower, Sir Walter said, smiling—“Ah! Mrs. Hemans, they little know what two Lions they are running away from !"

This song will now, perhaps, be read with interest. It is called - La Complainte Béarnaise.”

1. .
“ Un Troubadour Béarnais,
Les yeux inondés de larmes, :
A ses montagnards chantait
Ce refrain, source d'alarmes,-
Louis, le fils d'Henri,
Est prisonnier dans Paris.

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