say that those who were then deriding him, and denouncing his book as a treasonable production would live to see the day when they would acknowledge that his appreciation of the Yankee character was correct: and lament in tears and blood that his views were not sooner adopted by the South. It was written by its great author to open the eyes of Virginia and the South to the dangers which he so clearly saw just ahead, and which we all have so keenly felt. Well, well, would it have been could all have seen as he did.
I am glad to hear you design its re-publication. It is a master's work, and I have no doubt, but that, even now, its re-publication will be productive of good. Wishing you success in your enterprise,
I am hastily, but very truly yours,
RO. L. MONTAGUE.
Sir Walter Scott was observed by a friend to be noting the kind of grass, flowers, and moss which grew about a great rock, and a cave, where he proposed to lay the scene of one of his novels.
"Why do you that?" said the friend, "will not the daises and litchen do as well?
"No," said the great word-painter, "soon your stock of litchen and daises would be exhausted, and you must become monotonous; but adhere to nature, and you will have the variety of nature."
Not less scrupulously faithful to nature has our author been. Learning that the principal scene of the story was laid in Patrick county, Va., I determined to make a pilgrimage to the now classic region of "the Devil's Backbone." On arriving at the court-house, I was informed that just such a locality as that described, formerly known by that name, but now more familiarly known as "Witt's Spurr", was to be found in that wildest of mountain ranges, which rises in rugged grandeur six miles west of the village. I also learned, through the courtesy of that accomplished gentleman, Hon. W. R. Staples, of the Confederate Congress, that in 1820 or 25, Judge Tucker paid a visit to that region, and in company with his father, a soldier friend in the war of 1812, spent a day rambling over the mountains; and further, that "Witt" was a real character, and was probably now to be found somewhere not distant from the scene where the author first introduces him. Veering southward on the North Carolina road, first of all to search out this old hero, at a distance of about three miles from the Court-house, I rode up to an humble dwelling on the left, without thought of else than enquiring the way, when an old woman, so large, so out-spoken and hard-sensed, reported herself in response to the call, and gave the desired directions, that it occurred at once to my mind, this would be a worthy help meet of that "large, powerful man, of untaught wisdom, Christian Witt." The following colloquy occurred:
"Who lives here, madam?"
"Saunders Witt," with an independent air that bespoke pride of the name and place.
