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letters by L(ady) L(ouisa) Stuart and three volumes of the Siege of Malta. . . . I have hopes they will come to hand safe."

Two circumstances now made Scott anxious for a speedy return home. The first was the impossibility of the intended expedition to Rhodes; the second, the news of the death of Goethe, whom he had planned to visit at Weimar in the course of a journey overland through Germany. "Alas for Goethe, but he at least died at home. Let us to Abbotsford!" he exclaimed on hearing the news. He had been interested in the great German poet all his life. At one of their earliest meetings Lockhart had been fortunate enough to be able to tell his future father-in-law something of the man whom he then called "My old master." Letters had passed between them, but they were never destined to see each other. On April 15th Scott, with his daughter and younger son, set out for Rome in an open carriage. He fell asleep, despite warnings, while crossing the marshes, and suffered from a severe headache in consequence. The last pages of his priceless Journal describe his entry into the Imperial City, the closing words being "We slept reasonably, but on the next morning

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While he stayed in Rome the Stewart monuments in St. Peter's and the Villa Muti at Frascati, where Cardinal York had passed his later years, roused Sir Walter to some display of interest; but his thoughts were soon again centred upon home. On the 11th of May he left Rome; on the 17th he passed the Apennines; and on the 19th was at Venice, where he stayed

four days, but would look at nothing but the Bridge of Sighs, though he insisted upon descending into th dungeons. The homeward journey, which was directea by Charles Scott, his elder brother having been obliged to rejoin his regiment, was made by the projected route through the Tyrol, southern Germany, the Rhine, and Holland. One incident only need be touched upon. At Mainz a lithographed print of Abbotsford was shown to the unrecognised tourist, who with an "I know that already, sir," left the shop without ceremony. At Nimeguen Scott had another apoplectic attack, combined with paralysis; but after he had been bled he insisted upon proceeding, and reached London by steamer from Rotterdam on June 13th. He was taken to an hotel (the St. James's) in Jermyn Street, where he had to remain for nearly a month in order to recover from the effects of his (for that pre-railway period) rapid travelling. Sir Henry Halford (who had attended two kings and was to attend their successor, Queen Victoria), and the then Dr. Henry (afterwards Sir Henry) Holland, the same who had seen Sir Walter before he went abroad, were called in to assist Dr. Fergusson; and all Scott's children, as well as his publisher and his old friend John Richardson, visited his bedside. He was unconscious during great part of the time, and during the intervals sometimes fancied himself still on the steamer, sometimes at the polling booth in Jedburgh where he had been insulted.

Public interest in the state of the illustrious sufferer

was manifested by an intimation from the Whig Governrent that a grant from the Treasury would be made, if such help would be acceptable as a means of relieving his anxiety. The offer, prompted by reports that travelling expenses had exhausted Scott's resources, was gratefully declined. Another evidence of public sympathy is reported by Allan Cunningham, who was asked one night by some workmen at the corner of Jermyn Street if it was true that that was the street "where he is lying." On July 7th Sir Walter was placed on board the steamer that was to take him to Scotland. Two days later "prostrate in his carriage he was slung on shore at Newhaven; and early on the 11th, in the same torpid state as he had been in throughout, he began the journey towards Abbotsford. The nearness of home seemed to rouse his faculties, and the sight of it from Melrose Bridge excited him to such an extent that it required all the efforts of his son-in-law, his doctor, and his servant to keep him in the carriage.

On arrival he was put to bed in the dining-room, where in a few moments he recognised Laidlaw, saying, "Oh, man, how often I have thought of you!" and afterwards went to sleep, smiling and sobbing over his dogs. The doctors agreed that recovery was now hopeless. So ended the third and last of the expeditions which Sir Walter Scott made beyond the shores of the British Isles. As he was being wheeled about next day in his Bath chair by Laidlaw and Lockhart, with his grandchildren surrounding him, he repeated, "I have

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seen much, but nothing like my ain house. Give me one turn more!" For some days he thought himself better; but that his memory was very far gone was shown by the fact that the old favourite passages from Crabbe which Lockhart read to him seemed quite new. One day, about a week after the home-coming, occurred a most pathetic incident. Waking from his sleep in the garden, Scott shook the plaids off him and said, "This is sad idleness. I shall forget what I have been thinking of if I don't set it down now." And he insisted upon being moved into "his own room," placed in position before his desk, and given a pen. But his fingers could not hold it; he sank back in tears, and then asked to be wheeled back into the garden.

This was to him a decisive proof that his life's work was over. The same day, overhearing Laidlaw saying that Sir Walter had had a little repose, he murmured,

No, Willie, no repose for Sir Walter but in the grave. And unable to repress the tears caused by physical weakness, the old stoic begged his friends not to let him expose himself but to get him to bed-"that's the only place." After that day he scarcely ever left it, although his great strength enabled him to hold out for over two months longer. During these last weeks he was heard muttering fragments of Isaiah and Job, or of the Dies Ira and the Stabat Mater, and sometimes, says his son-in-law, "Burke Sir Walter" escaped him in a melancholy tone. It was soon necessary to pass through Parliament a measure (nominally temporary)

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SIR WALTER SCOTT'S GRAVE AND ST. MARY'S AISLE, DRYBURGH ABBEY

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