gives access. A peculiarity of the room is a hidden staircase communicating with a dressing-room. "The inhabitant of the study, therefore," says Scott in his descriptive catalogue, "if unwilling to be surprised by visitors, may make his retreat unobserved by means of this gallery to the private staircase which unites his study with his bedrooma facility which he has sometimes found extremely convenient." The objects in the study-the desk made of wood from the Spanish Armada, the plain leather chair in which the author sat, the oaken one presented to him by Mr. Train and carved from the wood of old Robroyston House (where Wallace was betrayed to the English), with various books he was using-are supposed all to be in the position they occupied at Sir Walter's death. The approach to the study is by an entrance hall which is a small museum in itself. Here are relics from Culloden and Waterloo and the keys of the Edinburgh Tolbooth, here, too, the splendid suit of complete armour worn by Sir John Cheney at Bosworth Field, Marie Antoinette's clock, and not least interesting -the last suit of clothes worn by Sir Walter. The arms of the Scotts are emblazoned upon the roof, and a rich red light is thrown upon the whole by the Bellenden windows. To say that the planning and building of Abbotsford and the collection of its treasures was a labour of love would be inadequate commonplace: it was rather a piece of the man's existence. While he lived at least as full and exuberant a life as his most active contemporaries, there was that in him which was as thoroughly in touch. with the past as were they with the present. Therefore every stone of his house bore an allusion or suggested a sentiment, all his pictures were selected rather for the memories evoked by their subjects than for their artistic value. So, too, as one of his visitors noted, he followed the words of the old songs which his eldest daughter used to sing to him "with his mind, eyes, and lips, almost as if joining in an act of devotion." After this year (1825) Scott was no longer to have this evening solace; for his daughter followed her husband to London on his appointment as editor of the Quarterly. The lively "Lady" Anne Scott remained; but she was never quite so sympathetic to her father. man. The fiction of the year was Tales of the Crusaders. These consisted of a Welsh story called The Betrothed and a romance of the third crusade entitled The TalisThe author had "sinkings of the heart" about them while he was writing, and when he read them in print found some flatness and labour. So badly, in fact, was the Welsh tale thought of, that it came near suppression. Its deficiencies, however, were ultimately considered to be covered by the merits of its companion, which has always been rather popular; and the appearance in Germany of a romance attributed to the author of Waverley, which it was feared might have been pirated from the sheets in Ballantyne's press, finally decided the issue of the two tales together. romance which told of the quarrels of Richard Cœur The de Leon and his allies in the Holy Land, the treachery of Conrade of Montserrat and the Grand Master of the Templars, and the magnanimity of Saladin, enjoyed more success than some of its more deserving predecessors, and encouraged both Scott and his assistants. But another great work had been projected, nay, even begun, before these Crusaders sallied forth. In the spring Archibald Constable came to Abbotsford full of a new scheme for a series of cheap volumes to which Scott was to be main contributor. While Sir Walter, the publisher, Lockhart, and Ballantyne were sitting over their wine, and Constable was unfolding his plans in his usual imperial manner, his host remarked, "Troth, you are indeed likely to be 'the grand Napoleon of the realms of print.'" Constable forthwith bespoke that line for his epitaph; but meanwhile insisted on Scott's help for the opening of a Marengo campaign. Sir Walter declared himself ready, and proceeded to propose a definite plan of campaign. He said that he had often felt of late that the vein of fiction was nearly worked out, and he had often thought seriously of turning to history, which required to be adapted to the demands of the larger circle of readers that was growing up and-"What say you to taking the field with a life of the other Napoleon?" he concluded. The idea was agreed to, though not upon the scale which it subsequently assumed; and before the summer holidays, the introductory sketch of the French Revolution had been written with flowing pen. Meanwhile a waggon-load of Moniteurs and other material which, says Lockhart, made Scott's little parlour in Castle Street look like an auctioneer's premises, arrived to form a basis for the body of the work. The author, no doubt, felt that the existence of his pleasure-house of Abbotsford was due, after himself, to his publisher; and so on the occasion of this Constable's first visit since its completion, he had the hall and library lighted up in honour of his guest. All unconscious of impending ruin, "with what serenity did he walk about those apartments, handling books, expounding armour and pictures, and rejoicing in the Babylon which he had built!" A CHAPTER XIX SCOTT VISITS IRELAND FEW happy months alone now lay between autumn he undertook a short tour in Ireland, ending by a visit to the English lakes. His object in crossing the sea was not only to go to such places as Wicklow and Killarney, but to see his friend Miss Edgeworth in her country home and his newly married son in his lodgings in Dublin. He declared himself too old for illusions: "I neither expect to kill myself with laughing at Pat's jests and blunders, nor to be beat on the head with his shillelagh, nor to jump out of the boat and drown myself with sheer delight, as my roadbook says folks are apt to do, at the lake of Killarney." A "barouchette, shabby enough," was hired for the party, which consisted of his daughter Anne and Lockhart, besides himself and two servants. He had his qualms about Dublin-"where, I am told, the Lion Hunters are already preparing stake and net "--but gladly agreed to dine one evening at the Hussars' mess. The travellers left Greenock at three in the afternoon, and reached Belfast at nine the following morning. They paid a guinea a head for the passage, besides |