Tickler. At times I cannot believe that he is dead.

1

North. Nor I. He is buried! He once showed me the place where he hoped his bones would lie.

Tickler. And do they?

North. They do. The people of Scotland could not have endured to lose them-no-not if he had died in the most distant land; nor would his bones have rested in any sepulchre, though consecrated by a nation's tears, out of that dear region of the earth which his genius has glorified for ever.

Tickler. All's well.

North. How affectingly our friend Allan has strewn the silver hair along his magnificent forehead! The face is somewhat aged-and it had begun to look so a few years ago— before that, so healthful that it promised to filial eyes a long, long life. But there is a young expression of gladness in the eyes-unbedimmed as yet by any mortal trouble-the light of genius there being all one with that of gracious humanity,— two words which, I feel, contain his character.

Tickler. Surrounded with relics of the olden time!

North. Ay-as he looked on them how his imagination kindled! At the sight of that Scottish spear, Flodden was before him-or Bannockburn.

Tickler. These deer-hounds have missed their master. Come -North. The picture is most beautifully painted—no man who looks at it needs be sorrowful.

North. All Scotland is sorrowful.

Tickler. No-her hills and valleys are rejoicing in the sunshine. Scotland is not sorrowful-though she has interred her greatest son. He will live for ever in the nation's heart. North. You remember Milton's lines on Shakespeare—

"What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones,

The labour of an age in pilèd stones;

Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid

Under a star-y-pointing pyramid !

Dear Son of Memory! Great Heir of Fame !

What need'st thou such weak witness of thy fame!

Thou, in our wonder and astonishment,

Hast built thyself a living monument."

"About half-past one, P.M.," says Mr Lockhart, "Sir Walter breathed his last in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day—so warm that

MARTIN, THE KING OF THE VAST.

357

That high feeling was natural in such a soul as Milton's; but it would pass away, and the Poet of Paradise would have reverently regarded in his mind's eye a star-y-pointing Pyramid over the Swan of Avon. A national monument is a depository of many thoughts-the gathered tribute of millions raises it-yet every man sees in it his individual feelings—and therefore the work is blest. "It is an expression of gratitudean act of reverence."

Tickler. The nation will do what is right.

North. Homer represents Greece-Virgil, Italy-Cervantes, Spain-Voltaire, France-Goethe, Germany-Shakespeare, England—and Scotland, he in whom we exult-he whom we deplore. I hope you admire the arrangements of my Martins? Tickler. Eh?

North. The noblest of all his works is Belshazzar's Feast. Tickler. They are all noble. I do admire the arrangement of your Martins; for so should the prodigious shadowings of Sin, Wrath, Judgment, and Doom, be all gathered together in their own region that expands and extends far, wide, and high into the pomp and grandeur

North. Don't mouth so. Martin is the KING of the VAST. Tickler. Nineveh-Babylon-in our ears heretofore but names—now before our eyes cities

North. With all their temples renovated from the dustunshorn their towery diadems

Tickler. Or settling down in the "gloom of earthquake and eclipse."

North. This great painter is said to repeat himself—and I am glad of it; so does the rising and the setting sun.

Tickler. Have you seen his "Illustrations of the Bible?” North. They are lying on that table. Martin has shown in them that he has the finest feeling of beauty both in nature and in human life. "The fairest of her daughters, Eve," stands before us in the only painted Paradise that ever reminded me of Eden.

Tickler. What! You have been there?

every window was wide open-and so perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes." He was buried in the Abbey of Dryburgh, on the 26th September 1832.

358

COLONEL MURRAY'S OUTLINES.

North. In sleep.

Tickler. I would rather be in the Highlands. Have you Colonel Murray's "Outlines?"

North. No. What Colonel Murray ?

Tickler. Son of Sir Peter-nephew of Sir George.

North. What's their style of character?

Tickler. Why, that outline style of drawing and engraving, the adaptation of which to the faithful delineation of scenery of a bold and picturesque character, was so well exemplified a few years since by Mr Robson.

North. One of the best landscape-painters of the age.1

Tickler. The Colonel is an admirable artist. He has given us Loch Maree, the Scuir of Egg, Loch Alsh, with Castle Donnan, Kilchurn Castle, and Loch Awe

North.

"Child of loud-throated War!

Now silent!"

Tickler. Ben Venue and the Trosachs; Basaltic Scenery near Ra-na-haddon, Skye; the Red Head, Angus; Dunottar Castle, Coir-Urchran on the Tay, Killiecrankie, and Schehallion

North. You pronounce those glorious names like a true Gael, like a Son of the Mist.

Tickler. It is published in numbers-and deserves encouragement from all Scotland. The history and literature of the country are identified with the scenes represented, not by casual or incidental allusions, but by a mode of illustration calculated to give a deeper and more lasting interest to the subjects and places. Each leaf of the descriptive letterpress being made applicable to the sketch which accompanies iteach subject is thus kept distinct-every number is complete in itself, and any person may select, at wonderfully small expense, faithful likenesses and illustrations of those places which are endeared to him by early recollections, or from the impressions they have produced on his mind in riper years. At present the work will be confined, I perceive, to all the remarkable places in Scotland north of Edinburgh. That division of it will be comprised in Twenty Numbers, but two shillings each-forming one volume, accompanied by copious

1 George Fenney Robson published Outlines of the Grampian Hills, and Landscape Illustrations of the Waverley Novels. He died in 1833.

FLEMING'S SELECT VIEWS.

359

references, indices, and a map, and will form the Illustrated Record of the North of Scotland.

The

North. A MAGNUM OPUS, quod felix faustumque sit. Murrays are a noble family. And yonder lie eight Numbers of a work, in a different style indeed, but illustrative of many of the same scenes-"Select Views of the Lakes of Scotland from Original Paintings, by John Fleming, engraved by Joseph Swan, with Historical and Descriptive Illustrations, by John Leighton." It is published at Glasgow, a city of late years becoming as distinguished for genius and talent in the fine arts, as it has long been for integrity and enterprise in the pursuits of commerce.

Tickler. I know it—I have it; and the two works together bring the lakes and seas of Scotland, its woods, glens, and mountains, more vividly before my eyes, than any other works of art that I now remember.

North. I have often admired Fleming's water-colour landscapes in our annual exhibition here; and Mr Swan has by his burin done them ample justice. None of our southern neighbours should visit the Highlands without being possessed of both works.

Tickler. Pray, what are the two green-board vols. perched pertly near your lug on the surbase ?1

North. "Wild Sports of the West." They contain many picturesque descriptions of the wildest scenery in Connaught, many amusing and interesting tales and legends, much good painting of Irish character; and the author is a true sportsman.2 Tickler. That branch of our literature is in full leaf.

3

North. It flourishes. Lloyd, Hawker,* and Mundy," are

1 Surbase-the moulding at the top of the wainscot, rising, in old-fashioned rooms at least, to the height of two or three feet from the floor. The recurrence of this word enables me to correct an error into which I had fallen in vol. ii. p. 136, note. In that page, instead of sabbase we should read surbasean amendment for which, irrespective of the confirmation which it receives from the text at this place, I am indebted to three ingenious correspondents.

2" William Henry Maxwell, once an officer in the British army, and at this time a beneficed clergyman in Ireland. His Stories of Waterloo, and other works of fiction, as well as his Life of Wellington, have been very popular."American Editor. 3 See ante, p. 96.

4 Hawker's Instructions to Young Sportsmen.

5 Mundy's Pen and Pencil Sketches in India: being the Journal of a Tour in the various Upper Provinces of India in the Years 1827-29, with Woodcuts and 26 spirited Etchings of Indian Field-Sports by Landseer.

360

MRS JAMESON'S CHARACTERISTICS.

accomplished gentlemen-and, as for Nimrod,' he is "The Great Historian of the Field." But I shall have an article on the vols. at my lug, probably in our next Number-so I need

Tickler. Toss them over to me, and I shall put them into my pocket.

North. Not so fast. I never lend books now—for, like Scotchmen who cross the Tweed, they never return home again. Tickler. And these others?

North. Two truly delightful volumes - Characteristics of Women, Moral, Poetical, and Historical, with Fifty Vignette Etchings, by Mrs Jameson. Shakespeare's Women!

Tickler. It used to be said by the critics of a former age, that he could not draw female characters.

North. The critics of a former age were a pack of fools.
Tickler. So are too many of the present.

North. And will be of the future. All the ancient Dramatists drew female characters well-especially Massinger. But Shakespeare has beautified the sex

Tickler. "Given perfume to the violets."

North. Mrs Jameson arranges all Shakespeare's women into classes-characters of Intellect-Portia, Isabella, Beatrice, Rosalind; characters of Passion and Imagination—Juliet, Helena, Perdita, Viola, Ophelia, Miranda; characters of the Affections-Hermione, Desdemona, Imogen, Cordelia; Historical characters-Cleopatra, Octavia, Volumnia, Constance of Bretagne, Elinor of Guienne, Blanche of Castile, Margaret of Anjou, Katharine of Arragon, Lady Macbeth.

Tickler. What a galaxy! In every name a charm. In imagination a man might marry nine-tenths of them—a spiritual seraglio.

North. My critiques on Sotheby's Homer seem to have been pretty well liked, though dashed off hurriedly, and I suppose they were not without a certain enthusiasm. I purpose haranguing away in a similar style, for a few articles, on Mrs Jameson's Shakespeare.*

Tickler. Do. You are often extravagant-not seldom absurd; but still there is, I grant, a certain enthusiasm

1 Mr Apperley wrote under the signature of "Nimrod" in the Sporting Magazine, and for many years was looked up to as the highest authority on all matters connected with the field, the road, or the turf.

2 See Blackwood's Magazine, vol. xxxiii., pp. 125, 143, 391, 539.