tive city. After spending two nights and a day in Edinburgh, he was removed,
on the morning of the 11th, to Abbotsford.
That intense love of home and of country, which had urged his return from the continent, here seemed to dispel for a moment the clouds of the mental atmosphere. In descending the vale of Gala, at the bottom of which the view of Abbotsford first opens, it was found difficult to keep him quiet in his carriage, so anxious was he to rear himself up, in order to catch an early glimpse of the beloved scene. On arriving at his house, he hardly recognized any body or any thing. He looked vacantly on all the objects that met his gaze, except the well-remembered visage of his friend Laidlaw, whose hand he affectionately pressed, murmuring, "that now he knew that he was at Abbotsford." He was here attended by most of the members of his family, including Mr Lockhart, while the general superintendence of his death-bed (now too certainly such) was committed to Dr Clarkson of Melrose. He was now arrived at that melancholy state, when the friends of the patient can form no more affectionate wish than that death may step in to claim his own. Yet day after day did the remnants of a robust constitution continue to hold out against the gloomy foe of life, until, notwithstanding every effort to the contrary, mortification commenced at several parts of the body. This was about twelve days before his demise, which at length took place on the 21st of September, (1832,) the principles of life having been by that time so thoroughly worn out, that nothing remained by which pain could be either experienced or expressed. On the 26th, the illustrious deceased was buried in an aisle in Dryburgh abbey, which had belonged to one of his ancestors, and which had been given to him by the late earl of Buchan.
Sir Walter Scott was in stature above six feet; but, having been lame from an early period of life in the right limb, he sank a little on that side in walking. His person was, in latter life, bulky, but not corpulent, and made a graceful appearance on horseback. Of his features, it is needless to give any particular description, as they must be familiar to every reader through the medium of the innumerable portraits, busts, and medallions, by which they have been commemorated. His complexion was fair, and the natural colour of his hair sandy. The portrait, by Raeburn, of which an engraving was prefixed to the Lady of the Lake, gives the best representation of the poet, as he appeared in the prime of life. The bust of Chantry, taken in 1820, affords the most faithful delineation of his features as he was advancing into age. And his aspect, in his sixtieth year, when age and reflection had more deeply marked his countenance, is most admirably preserved in Mr Watson Gordon's portrait, of which an engraving is prefixed to the new edition of his novels. There is, likewise, a very faithful portrait by Mr Leslie, an American artist.
Sir Walter Scott possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of imagination, with the gift of memory. If to this be added his strong tendency to venerate past things, we at once have the most obvious features of his intellectual character. A desultory course of reading had brought him into acquaintance with almost all the fictitious literature that existed before his own day, as well as the minutest points of British, and more particularly Scottish history. His easy and familiar habits had also introduced him to an extensive observation of the varieties of human character. His immense memory retained the ideas thus acquired, and his splendid imagination gave them new shape and colour. Thus, his literary character rests almost exclusively upon his power of combining and embellishing past events, and his skill in delineating natural character. In early life, accident threw his opinions into the shape of verse in later life, into prose; but, in whatever form they appear, the powers are not much different. The same magician is still at work, re-awaking the figures and events of
