by means of a conveyance which he had provided, transported her safely to the house of the Rabbi Nathan. The Jewess whose fortunes had formed the principal interest of the day, having now retired unobserved, the attention of the populace was transferred to the Black Knight. They now filled the air with "Long life to Richard with the lion's heart, and down with the usurping Templars!" "Notwithstanding all this lip loyalty," said Ivanhoe to the Earl of Essex, "it was well the King took the precaution to bring thee with him, noble Earl, and so many of thy trusty followers." The Earl smiled and shook his head. "Gallant Ivanhoe," said Essex, " dost thou know our master so well, and yet suspect him of taking so wise a precaution? I was drawing towards York, having heard that Prince John was making head there, when I met King Richard, like a true knight-errant, galloping hither to achieve in his own person this adventure of the Templar and the Jewess with his own single arm. I accompanied him with my band, almost maugre his consent." "And what news from York, brave Earl ?" said Ivanhoe; "will the rebels bide us there ?" "No more than December's snow will bide July's sun," said the Earl. "They are dispersing; and who should come posting to bring us the news but John himself!" "The traitor! the ungrateful, insolent traitor!" said Ivanhoe; "did not Richard order him into confinement ?" "Oh! he received him," answered the Earl, "as if they had met after a hunting party; and, pointing to me and our men-at-arms, said, 'Thou seest, brother, I have some angry men with me; thou wert best go to our mother, carry her my duteous affection, and abide with her until men's minds are pacified.'" "And this was all he said?" inquired Ivanhoe: "would not any one say that this prince invites men to treason by his clemency" "Just," replied the Earl, "as the man may be said to invite death who undertakes to fight a combat, having a dangerous wound unhealed." "I forgive thee the jest, Lord Earl," said Ivanhoe; but, remember, I hazarded but my own life; Richard, the welfare of his kingdom." "Those," replied Essex, "who are specially careless of their own welfare, are seldom remarkably attentive to that of others. But let us haste to the castle, for Richard meditates punishing some of the subordinate members of the conspiracy, though he has pardoned their principal."-Ivanhoe, 625.

FOR the purpose of commencing my new way of life, I selected for my residence the Village of Kennaquhair, in the south of Scotland, celebrated for the ruins of its monastery,

intending there to lead my future life in the otium cum dignitate of half-pay and annuity. I was not long, however, in making the grand discovery, that in order to enjoy leisure it is absolutely necessary it should be preceded by occupation. For some time it was delightful to wake at daybreak, dreaming of the reveillé-then to recollect my happy emancipation from the slavery that doomed me to start at a piece of clattering parchment, turn on my other side, and go to sleep again. But even this enjoyment had its termination; and time, when it became a stock entirely at my own disposal, began to hang heavy on my hand. I angled for two days, during which time I lost twenty hooks, and several scores of yards of gut and line, and caught not even a minnow. Hunting was out of the question, for the stomach of a horse by no means agrees with the half-pay establishment. When I shot, the shepherds and ploughmen, and my very dog, quizzed me every time that I missed, which was, generally speaking, every time I fired. Besides, the country gentlemen in this quarter like their game, and began to talk of prosecutions and interdicts. I did not give up fighting the French to commence a domestic war with the "pleasant men of Teviotdale," as the song calls them; so I e'en spent three days (very agreeably) in cleaning my gun, and disposing it upon two hooks over my chimney-piece. The success of this accidental experiment set me on trying my skill in the mechanical arts. Accordingly, I took down and cleaned my landlady's cuckoo-clock, and, in so doing, silenced that companion of the spring for ever and a day. I mounted a turning lathe, and in attempting to use it I very nearly cribbed off, with an inch-and-half former, one of the fingers which the hussar had left me. Books I tried, both those of the little circulating library, and of the more rational subscription collection maintained by this intellectual people. But neither the light reading of the one, nor the heavy artillery of the other, suited my purpose. I always fell asleep at the fourth or fifth page of the history or disquisition; and it took me a month's hard reading to wade through a half-bound trashy novel, during which I was pestered with applications to return the volumes by every half-bred milliner's miss about the place. In short, during the hours when all the town besides had something to do, I had nothing for it but to walk in the churchyard, and whistle till it was dinner-time.-Introductory Epistle from Captain Clutterbuck, late of His Majesty's-Regt. of Infantry, to the Author of Waverley."-Monastery, 644.

66

THE dram-drinker is often the first to be shocked at the

smell of spirits. It is not unusual to hear old maiden ladies declaim against scandal; the private bookcases of some grave seeming men would not brook decent eyes; and many—I say not of the wise and learned, but of those most anxious to seem such-when the spring-lock of their library is drawn, their velvet cap pulled over their ears, their feet insinuated into their Turkey slippers, are to be found, were their retreats suddenly intruded upon, busily engaged with the last new novel. I have said the truly wise and learned disdain these shifts, and will open the said novel as avowedly as they would the lid of their snuff-box. I will only quote one instance, though I know a hundred. Did you know the celebrated Watt, of Birmingham, Captain Clutterbuck? I believe not; though, from what I am about to state, he would not have failed to have sought an acquaintance with you. It was only once my fortune to meet him. There were assembled about half a score of our Northern Lights, who had amongst them a well-known character of your country, Jedediah Cleishbotham. This worthy person, having come to Edinburgh during the Christmas vacation, had become a sort of lion in the place, and was led in leash from house to house along with the guisards, the stoneeater, and other amusements of the season, which "exhibited their unparalleled feats to private family parties if required." Amidst this company stood Mr. Watt, the man whose genius discovered the means of multiplying our national resources to a degree, perhaps, even beyond his own stupendous powers of calculation and combination; bringing the treasures of the abyss to the summit of the earth-giving the feeble arm of man the momentum of an Afrite-commanding manufactures to arise, as the rod of the prophet produced water in the desert-affording the means of dispensing with that time and tide which wait for no man, and of sailing without that wind which defied the commands and threats of Xerxes himself. [Probably the ingenious author alludes to the national adage— "The king said sail,

But the wind said no."

Our schoolmaster (who is also a land surveyor) thinks this whole passage refers to Mr. Watt's improvements on the steam-engine. Note by Captain Clutterbuck.] This potent commander of the elements-this abridger of time and space this magician, whose cloudy machinery has produced a change on the world, the effects of which, extraordinary as they are, are perhaps only now beginning to be felt-was not only the most profound man of science, the most successful

combiner of powers and calculator of numbers as adapted to practical purposes, was not only one of the most generally well-informed, but one of the best and kindest of human beings. There he stood, surrounded by the little band I have mentioned of Northern literati; men not less tenacious, generally speaking, of their own fame and their own opinions, than the national regiments are supposed to be jealous of the high character which they have won upon service. Methinks I yet see and hear what I shall never see or hear again. In his eighty-fifth year, the alert, kind, benevolent old man had his attention alive to every one's question, his information at every one's command. His talents and fancy overflowed on every subject. One gentleman was a deep philologist-he talked with him on the origin of the alphabet as if he had been coeval with Cadmus; another a celebrated critic-you would have said the old man had studied political economy and belleslettres all his life: of science it is unnecessary to speak; it was his own distinguished walk. And yet, Captain Clutterbuck, when he spoke with your countryman Jedediah Cleishbotham, you would have sworn he had been coeval with Claver'se and Burley, with the persecutors and persecuted, and could number every shot the dragoons had fired at the fugitive Covenanters. In fact, we discovered that no novel of the least celebrity escaped his perusal, and that the gifted man of science was as much addicted to the productions of your native country (the land of Utopia aforesaid); in other words, as shameless and obstinate a peruser of novels as if he had been a very milliner's apprentice of eighteen. I know little apology for troubling you with these things, excepting the desire to commemorate a delightful evening, and a wish to encourage you to shake off that modest diffidence which makes you afraid of being supposed connected with the fairy-land of delusive fiction. I will requite your tag of verse from Horace himself, with a paraphrase for your own use, my dear captain, and for that of your country club, excepting in reverence the clergyman and schoolmaster :Ne sit ancilla tibi amor pudori, &c."

66

Take thou no scorn,

Of fiction born,

Fair fiction's muse to woo :

Old Homer's theme

Was but a dream,

Himself a fiction too.

:

-Answer by "The Author of Waverley," to the foregoing letter from Captain Clutterbuck.-653.

THE little brook, now confined betwixt closer limits, now left at large to choose its course through the narrow valley, danced carelessly on from stream to pool, light and unturbid, as that better class of spirits who pass their way through life, yielding to insurmountable obstacles, but as far from being subdued by them as the sailor who meets by chance with an unfavourable wind, and shapes his course so as to be driven back as little as possible.-659.

THE miller was of manly make,

To meet him was na mows;

There durst na ten come him to take,
Sae noited he their pows.-693.

THE under-miller is, in the language of thirlage, called the knave, which, indeed, signified originally his lad (Knabé, German), but by degrees came to be taken in a worse sense. In the old translations of the Bible, Paul is made to term himself the knave of our Saviour. The allowance of meal taken by the miller's servant was called knaveship.-694.

THERE are those to whom a sense of religion has come in storm and tempest; there are those whom it has summoned amid scenes of revelry and idle vanity; there are those, too, who have heard its "still small voice" amid rural leisure and placid contentment. But perhaps the knowledge which causeth not to err is most frequently impressed upon the mind during seasons of affliction; and tears are the softened showers which cause the seed of Heaven to spring and take root in the human breast.-760.

DIVINITY is an effective practical science. Knowing is not the ultimate or perfective act of man, but a means to holy love, and joy, and service. Nor is it clear and solid knowledge if it do not somewhat affect the heart, and engage and actuate the life according to the nature and use of the thing known. The soundness of knowledge and belief is not best discerned in the intellectual acts themselves, but in their powerful, free, and pleasant efficacy upon our choice and practice. — Baxter. Walking with God, 53. (1825)

Ir behoveth a Christian to exercise as much thoughtfulness about his end and work as hath any tendency to promote his work and to attain his end; but such a thoughtfulness as hindereth us in our work, by stopping, or distracting, or diverting us, is no way pleasing unto God. Such thoughts as hinder us from duty, or discourage or unfit us for it, are real sins, however they may go under a better name.—124.