FAMOUS MEN.

WALTER SCOTT.

THE lives of very few great men present so much to excite our interest, respect, and gratitude, as that of Sir Walter Scott. He was a man of genius, yet such was the kindness of his heart, the simplicity of his manners, and his good common sense, that he always kept himself within the reach of common minds, and within the sympathy of his fellow-men. Great as he was, he was still one of us, and though the events of his life were not of a startling character, there is a continuous thread of occurrences, from his childhood to his grave, that is exceedingly interesting to follow. The early part of his life, containing the events which shaped his genius, are, at once, in the highest degree amusing and instructive. In the brief space allotted to us in this volume, we shall endeavor to give such facts and anecdotes as may put the reader in possession of the means of forming a just estimate of his character.

He was born at Edinburgh, Aug. 15, 1771. When about two years old, his nurse was one night wakened by his screams, and, on examining him, his right leg was found to be in a state of paralysis, and as cold

as marble! For two years after this event, he was very feeble. When four years old, he was stronger, and able to go about on crutches.

We are told that, when a child, the nurse having offended him, he slily took a litter of puppies, and threw them all into the water cistern, where they were drowned. Oppressed with the consciousness of his misdeed, when dinner came, he could not eat; this caused inquiry, and thus the sad truth came to light. We are also told that young Walter was fond of a thunder-storm, at a very early age. On one occasion, a furious tempest of this kind was raging in Edinburgh. Such was the violence of the wind, thunder, and lightning, that the servants huddled together in great affright, the children of the family being with them. All were so filled with terror as not to observe the absence of Walter, for some time. At last he was missed, and the domestics were sent in all directions to find him. They searched in vain for a long time; when one of them, happening to go into the back garden, found him on his back, the rain pelting him in the face, but instead of sharing the general terror, he was in the greatest glee, kicking up his heels, and at every flash of lightning, calling out, "bonnie! bonnie!"

Scott's father was a writer to the signet, in Edinburgh, a lawyer who prepares cases for the higher Scottish courts. He was a sharp, sensible man; attentive to the affairs of his profession; rigid in his religious opinions and habits, and prudent in his ways of living. His wife was a small, plain, well-educated woman, of very good sense, and as rigid as her

husband in her feelings and principles. She was, however, very charitable, loved poetry, and was fond of paintings. It appears, that she was, on the whole, a superior woman. This couple had ten children, of whom Walter was the fourth. None of them attained eminence, except the subject of our present story.

When Walter was about four or five years old, in the hope of benefitting his still feeble health, he was sent to Sandy Knowe, an estate on the Tweed, and placed under the care of his maternal grandfather. He was a fine old farmer, whom Scott himself afterwards describes in the following words :—

"Wise without learning-plain and good,
And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood;
Whose eye in age, quick, clear, and keen,
Showed what in youth its glow had been:
Whose doom, contending parties sought,
Content with equity unbought."

Walter's grandmother was now very aged, but the boy here found an Aunt Jenny, who was an old maid, or a widow without children. She was a woman of great cleverness, and possessed, at once, an immense stock of old tales and legends, with great talent in telling them. This lady became much attached to young Walter, and the more, perhaps, that he was feeble, and in his lameness, unfortunate. He was, therefore, committed to her care, and it is, doubtless. to the impressions made by her narratives, that his genius took the direction, which, in after life, gave him so much fame, and the world so much gratification. At all events, Aunt Jennie, from the first, devoted herself to the "puir lame laddie," with all the

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earnestness of a mother's love. She watched and cherished him, guarded him from accidents, and coddled him with little dainties; told tales to amuse his waking hours, and sung him to sleep at night. For a course of years she persevered in these kind attentions; often making the greatest sacrifices of personal ease and comfort, for the sake of her nephew. She was most amply repaid by his restoration to health and his lasting gratitude.

There were two of Walter's cousins with him at Sandy Knowe, younger than himself. When his health had improved a little, he became a famous play-fellow. He used to limp about, using often but one crutch; but he was frequently the leader of the party; wherever he went, the lesser imps were seen trotting after him. His own description of himself, at this period, is the best we can give:

"For I was wayward, bold and wild,
A self-willed imp, a grandam's child;
But half a plague and half a jest,
Was still endured, beloved, carest."

The impression made upon Walter's mind by the objects around him, at this time, were deep and lasting. The farm-house where he dwelt, was situated at the foot of some lofty crags, upon which were the ruins of an ancient tower. He has introduced in Marmion the following sketch of the scene, with allusions to his childish feelings :

"It was a barren scene, and wild,

Where naked cliffs were rudely piled;
But ever and anon between,

Were velvet tufts of loveliest green.