revision. It is hoped that the present edition will be found free from errors of that accidental kind.

The Author has also ventured to make some emendations of a different character, which, without being such apparent deviations from the original stories as to disturb the reader's old associations, will, he thinks, add something to the spirit of the dialogue, narrative, or description. These consist in occasional pruning where the language is redundant, compression where the style is loose, infusion of vigour where it is languid, the exchange of less forcible for more appropriate epithetsslight alterations, in short, like the last touches of an Artist, which contribute to heighten and finish the picture, though an inexperienced eye can hardly detect in what they consist.

The General Preface to the new Edition, and the Introductory Notices to each separate work, will contain an account of such circumstances attending the first publication of the Novels and Tales, as may appear interesting in themselves, or proper to be communicated to the public. The Author also proposes to publish, on this occasion; the various legends, family traditions, or obscure historical facts, which have farmed the ground-work of these Novels, and to give some account of the places where the scenes are laid, when these are altogether, or in part, real; as well as a statement of particular incidents founded on fact; together with a more copious Glossary, and Notes explanatory of the ancient customs, and popular superstitions, referred to in the Romances.

Upon the whole, it is to be hoped that the Waverley Novels, in their new dress, will not be found. to have lost any part of their attractions in consequence of receiving illustrations by the Author, and undergoing his careful revision.

ABBOTSFORD, January, 1829.

-And must I ravel out
My weaved-up follies?

Richard II. Act IV.

Cassandra, down to the most approved works of later times. I was plunged into this great ocean of reading without compass or pilot; and unless when some one had the charity to play at chess with me, I was allowed to do nothing save read, from HAVING undertaken to give an Introductory Account of the morning to night. I was, in kindness and pity, which was percompositions which are here offered to the public, with Notes hapa erroneous, however natural, permitted to select my suband Illustrations, the author, under whose name they are now jects of study at my own pleasure, upon the same principle that for the first time collected, feels that he has the delicate task the humours of children are indulged to keep them out of misof speaking more of himself and his personal concerns, than chief. As my taste and appetite were gratified in nothing else, may perhaps be either graceful or prudent. In this particular, I indemnified myself by becoming a glutton of books. Accordhe runs the risk of presenting himself to the public in the rela-ingly, I believe I read almost all the romances, old plays, and tion that the dumb wife in the jest-book held to her husband, epic poetry, in that formidable collection, and no doubt was when, having spent half of his fortune to obtain the cure of her unconsciously amassing materials for the task in which it has imperfection, he was willing to have bestowed the other half to been my lot to be so much employed. restore her to her former condition. But this is a risk inseparable from the task which the author has undertaken, and he can only promise to be as little of an egotist as the situation will permit. It is perhaps an indifferent sign of a disposition to keep gan, by degrees, to seek in histories, memoirs, voyages, and his word, that having introduced himself in the third person singular, he proceeds in the second paragraph to make use of the first. But it appears to him that the seeming modesty conDeeted with the former mode of writing, is overbalanced by the inconvenience of stiffness and affectation which attends it during a narrative of some length, and which may be observed less or more in every work in which the third person is used, from the Commentaries of Cæsar, to the Autobiography of Alexander the Corrector.

At the same time I did not in all respects abuse the license permitted me. Familiar acquaintance with the specious miracles of fiction brought with it some degree of satiety, and I be

travels, and the like, events nearly as wonderful as those which were the work of imagination, with the additional advantage, that they were at least in a great measure true. The lapse of nearly two years, during which I was left to the exercise of my own free will, was followed by a temporary residence in the country, where I was again very lonely but for the amusement which I derived from a good, though old-fashioned library. The vague and wild use which I made of this advantage! cannot describe better than by referring my reader to the desultory studies of Waverley in a similar situation; the passages concerning whose course of reading ver imitated from recolle tions of my own. It must be understood that the resemblance extends no farther.

I must refer to a very early period of my life, were I to point out my first achievements as a tale-teller-but I believe some of my old schoolfellows can still bear witness that I had a distinguished character for that talent, at a time when the applause of my companions was my recompense for the disgraces and Time, as it glided on, brought the blessings of confirmed punishments which the future romance-writer incurred for be- health and personal strength, to a degree which had never been ing idle himself, and keeping others idle, during hours that expected or hoped for. The severe studies necessary to render should have been employed on our tasks. The chief enjoy-me fit for my profession occupied the greater part of my time; ment of my holidays was to escape with a chosen friend, who and the society of my friends and companions who were about had the same taste with myself, and alternately to recite to each to enter life along with me, led up the interval, with the usual other such wild adventures as we were able to devise. We told, amusement of young men. I was in a situation which rendered each in turn, interminable tales of knight-errantry and battles serious labour indispensable: for, neither possessing, on the one and enchantments, which were continued from one day to ano-hand, any of those peculiar advantages which are supposed to father, as opportunity offered, without our ever thinking of bring-vour a hasty advance in the profession of the law, nor being, on ing them to a conclusion. As we observed a strict secrecy on the other hand, exposed to unusual obstacles to interrupt my prothe subject of this intercourse, it acquired all the character of a gress, I might reasonably expect succeed according to the concealed pleasure, and we used to select, for the scenes of our greater or less degree of trouble which I should take to qualify indulgence, long walks through the solitary and romantic envi- myself as a pleader. rons of Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, Braid Hills, and similar places in the vicinity of Edinburgh; and the recollection of those holidays still forms an oasis in the pilgrimage which I have to look back upon. I have only to add, that my friend still lives, a prosperous gentleman, but too much occupied with graver business, to thank me for indicating him more plainly as a confident of my childish mystery.

It makes no part of the present story to detail how the success of a few ballads had the effect of changing all the purposes, and tenor of my life, and of converting a pains taking lawyer of some years' standing into a follower of literature. It is enough to say, that I had assumed the latter character for several years before I seriously thought of attempting a work of imagination in prose, although one or two of my poetical attempts did not When boyhood advancing into youth required more serious differ from romances, otherwise than by being written in verse. studies and graver cares, a long illness threw me back on the But yet, I may observe, that about this time (now, alas! thirty kingdom of fiction, as if it were by a species of fatality. My years since) I had nourished the ambitious desire of composing indisposition arose, in part at least, from my having broken a a tale of chivalry, which was to be in the style of the Castle of blood-vessel; and motion and speech were for a long time pro-Otranto, with plenty of Border characters, and supernatural innounced positively dangerous. For several weeks I was con- cident. Having found unexpectedly a chapter of this intended fined strictly to my bed, during which time I was not allowed work among some old papers, I have subjoined it to this introto speak above a whisper, to eat more than a spoonful or two of ductory essay, thinking some readers may account as curious, boiled rice, or to have more covering than one thin counter- the first attempts at romantic composition by an author, who, pane. When the reader is informed that I was at this time a has since written so much in that department. And those growing youth, with the spirits, appetite, and impatience of who complain, not unreasonably, of the profusion of the Tales fifteen, and suffered, of course, greatly under this severe regi- which have followed Waverley, may bless their stars at the nar men, which the repeated return of my disorder rendered indis-row escape they have made, by the commencement of the inunpensable, he will not be surprised that I was abandoned to my dation which had so nearly taken place in the first year of the own discretion, so far as reading (my almost sole amusement) century, being postponed for fifteen years later. was concerned, and still less so, that I abused the indulgence which left my time so much at my own disposal.

There was at this time a circulating library in Edinburgh, founded, I believe, by the celebrated Allan Ramsay, which, bemides containing a most respectable collection of books of every description, was, as might have been expected, peculiarly rich in works of fiction. It exhibited specimens of every kind, from the romances of chivalry, and the ponderous folios of Cyrus and

This particular subject was never resumed, but I did not aban. don the idea of fictitious composition in prose, though I deter. mined to give another turn to the style of the work.

My early recollections of the Highland scenery and customs made so favourable an impression in the poem called the Lady of the Lake, that I was induced to think of attempting some

• See the Fragment alluded to, in the Appendix, No. I.

thing of the same kind in prose. I had been a good deal in the Pastimes of the People of England," had rendered him familiar Highlands at a time when they were much less accessible, and with all the antiquarian lore necessary for the purpose of commuch less visited, than they have been of late years, and was posing the projected romance; and although the manuscript acquainted with many of the old warriors of 1745, who were, bore the marks of hurry and incoherence natural to the first like most veterans, easily induced to fight their battles over rough draught of the author, it evinced (in my opinion) consideragain, for the benefit of a willing listener like myself. It natu- able powers of imagination. rally occurred to me, that the ancient traditions and high spirit of a people, who, living in a civilized age and country, retain ed so strong a tincture of manners belonging to an early period of society, must afford a subject favourable for romance, if it should not prove a curious tale marred in the telling.

As the work was unfinished, I deemed it my duty, as Editor, to supply such a hasty and inartificial conclusion as could be shaped out from the story, of which Mr. Strutt had laid the foundation. This concluding chapter is also added to the present Introduction, for the reason already mentioned regarding the preceding fragment. It was a step in my advance towards romantic composition; and to preserve the traces of these is in a great measure the object of this Essay.

Queen-Hoo-Hall was not, however, very successful. I thought I was aware of the reason, and supposed that, by rendering his language too ancient, and displaying his antiquarian knowledge too liberally, the ingenious author had raised up an obstacle to must be expressed in language easily comprehended; and when, as is sometimes the case in Queen-Hoo-Hall, the author addresses himself exclusively to the Antiquary, he must be content to be dismissed by the general reader with the criticism of Mungo, in the Padlock, on the Mauritanian music, "What signifies me hear, if me no understand."

It was with some idea of this kind, that, about the year 1805, I threw together about one third part of the first volume of Waverley. It was advertised to be published by the late Mr. John Ballantyne, bookseller in Edinburgh, under the name of "Waverley; or, 'tis Fifty Years since," a title afterwards altered to "Tis Sixty Years since," that the actual date of publication might be made to correspond with the period in which the scene was laid. Having proceeded as far, I think, as the seventh his own success. Every work designed for mere amusement chapter, I showed my work to a critical friend, whose opinion was unfavourable; and having then some poetical reputation, I was unwilling to risk the loss of it by attempting a new style of composition. I therefore threw aside the work I had commenced, withou either reluctance or remonstrance. I ought to add, that though my ingenious friend's sentence was afterwards reversed, on an appeal to the public, it cannot be considered as any imputation on his good taste; for the specimen subjected to his criticism did not extend beyond the departure of the hero for Scotland, and, consequently, had not entered upon the part of the story which was finally found most interesting.

Be that as it may, this portion of the manuscript was laid aside in the drawers of an old writing desk, which, on my first coming to reside at Abbotsford, in 1811, was placed in a lumber garret, and entirely forgotten. Thus, though I sometimes, among other literary avocations, turned my thoughts to the continuation of the romance which I had commenced, yet as I could not find what had already written, after searching such repositories as were within my reach, and was too indolent to attempt to write te anew from memory, I as often laid aside all thoughts of that nature.

Two circumstances, in particular, recalled my recollection of the mislaid manuscript. The first was the extended and wellmerited fame of Miss Edgeworth, whose Irish characters have gone so far to make the English familiar with the character of their gay and kind-hearted neighbours of Ireland, that she may be truly said to have done more towards completing the Union, than perhaps all the legislative exactments by which it has been followed up.

Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that something might be attempted for my own country, of the same kind with that which Miss Edgeworth so fortunately achieved for Treland-something which might introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom, in a more favourable light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy for their virtues, and indulgence for their foibles. I thought also, that much of what I wanted in talent might be made up by the intimate acquaintance with the subject which I could lay claim to possess, as having travelled through most parts of Scotland, both Highland and Lowland; having been familiar with the elder, as well as more modern race; and having had from my infancy free and unrestrained communication with all ranks of my countrymen, from the Scottish peer to the Scottish plough man. Such ideas often occurred to me, and constituted an ambitious branch of my theory, however far short I may have fallen of it in practice.

I conceived it possible to avoid this error; and by rendering a similar work more light and obvious to general comprehension, to escape the rock on which my predecessor was shipwrecked. But I was, on the other hand, so far discouraged by the indifferent reception of Mr. Strutt's romance, as to become satisfied that the manners of the middle ages did not possess the interest which I had conceived; and was led to form the opinion, that a romance, founded on a Highland story, and more modern events, would have a better chance of popularity than a tale of chivalry. My thoughts, therefore, returned more than once to the tale which I had actually commenced, and accident at length threw the lost sheets in my way.

I happened to want some fishing-tackle for the use of a guest, when it occurred to me to search the old writing-desk already mentioned, in which I used to keep articles of that nature. I got access to it with some difficulty; and, in looking for lines and flies, the long-lost manuscript presented itself. I immediately set to work to complete it, according to my original purpose. And here I must frankly confess, that the mode in which I conducted the story scarcely deserved the success which the romance afterwards attained. The tale of Waverley was put together with so little care, that I cannot boast of having sketched any distinct plan of the work. The whole adventures of Waverley, in his movements up and down the country with the Highland cateran Bean Lean, are managed without much skill. It suited best, however, the road I wanted to travel, and permitted me to introduce some descriptions of scenery and manners, to which the reality gave an interest which the powers of the author might have otherwise failed to attain for them. And though I have been in other instances a sinner in this sort, I do not recollect any of these novels, in which I have transgressed so widely as in the first of the series.

Among other unfounded reports, it has been said, that the copyright of Waverley was, during the book's progress through the press, offered for sale to various booksellers in London at a very inconsiderable price. This was not the case. Messrs. Constable and Cadell, who published the work, were the only persons acquainted with the contents of the publication, and they offered a large sum for it while in the course of printing, which, however, was declined, the author not choosing to part with the copyright.

The origin of the story of Waverley, and the particular facts But it was not only the triumphs of Miss Edgeworth which on which it is founded, are given in the separate introduction worked in me emulation, and disturbed my indolence. I chanced prefixed to that romance in this edition, and require no notice actually to engage in a work which formed a sort of essay piece, and gave me hope that I might in time become free of the craft of romance-writing, and be esteemed a tolerable workman.

in this place.

Waverley was published in 1814, and as the title-page was without the name of the author, the work was left to win its way in the world without any of the usual recommendations. In the year 1807-8, I undertook, at the request of John Mur- Its progress was for some time slow; but after the first two or ray, Esq. of Albemarle street, to arrange for publication some three months, its popularity had increased in a degree which posthumous productions of the late Mr. Joseph Strutt, distin- must have satisfied the expectations of the author, bad these guished as an artist and an antiquary, amongst which was an un-been far more sanguine than he ever entertained. finished romance, entitled, " Queen-Hoo-Hall." The scene of Great anxiety was expressed to learn the name of the author, the tale was laid in the reign of Henry VI., and the work was but on this no authentic information could be attained. My written to illustrate the manners, customs, and language of the people of England during that period. The extensive acquaint ance which Mr. Strutt had acquired with such subjects in compiling his laborious "Horda Angel Cynnan," his "Royal and Ecclesiastical Antiquities," and his "Essay on the Sports and

original motive for publishing the work anonymously, was the consciousness that it was an experiment on the public taste which might very probably fail, and therefore there was no oc

⚫See Appendix, No. IL

casion to take on myself the personal risk of discomfiture. For ablest down to that of fools. This risk was in some degree prethis purpose considerable precautions were used to preserve se-vented by the mask which I wore; and my own stores of selfcrecy. My old friend and schoolfellow, Mr. James Ballantyne, conceit were left to their natural course, without being enhanced who printed these novels, had the exclusive task of correspond-by the partiality of friends, or adulation of flatterers.

ing with the author, who thus had not only the advantage of If I am asked further reasons for the conduct I have long obhis professional talents, but also of his critical abilities. The served, I can only resort to the explanation supplied by a critic original manuscript, or, as it is technically called, copy, was as friendly as he is intelligent; namely, that the mental organitranscribed under Mr. Ballantyne's eye by confidential persons; zation of the Novelist must be characterized, to speak craniolonor was there an instance of treachery during the many years gically, by an extraordinary development of the passion for in which these precautions were resorted to, although various delitescency! I the rather suspect some natural disposition of individuals were employed at different times. Double proof- this kind; for, from the instant I perceived the extreme curiosisheets were regularly printed off. One was forwarded to the ty manifested on the subject, I felt a secret satisfaction in bafauthor by Mr. Ballantyne, and the alterations which it received fling it, for which, when its unimportance is considered, I do were, by his own hand, copied upon the other proof-sheet for not well know how to account. the use of the printers, so that even the corrected proofs of the My desire to remain concealed, in the character of the author author were never seen in the printing-office; and thus the cu- of these novels, subjected me occasionally to awkward embarriosity of such eager inquirers as made the most minute investi-rassments, as it sometimes happened that those who were sufgation, was entirely at fault.

But although the cause of concealing the author's name in the first instance, when the reception of Waverley was doubtful, was natural enough, it is more difficult, it may be thought, to account for the same desire for secrecy during the subsequent editions, to the amount of betwixt eleven and twelve thousand copies, which followed each other close, and proved the success of the work. I am sorry I can give little satisfaction to queries on this subject. I have already stated elsewhere, that I can render little better reason for choosing to remain anonymous, than by saying with Shylock, that such was my humour. It will be observed, that I had not the usual stimulus for desiring personal reputation, the desire, namely, to float amidst the conversation of men. Of literary fame, whether merited or undeserved, I had already as much as might have contented a mind more ambitious than mine; and in entering into this new contest for reputation, I might be said rather to endanger what I had, than to have any considerable chance of acquiring more. I was affected, too, by none of those motives which, at an earlier period of life, would doubtless have operated upon me. My friendships were formed,-my place in society fixed,-my life had attained its middle course. My condition in society was higher perhaps than I deserved, certainly as high as I wished, and there was scarce any degree of literary success which could have greatly altered or improved my personal condition.

ficiently intimate with me, would put the question in direct terms. In this case, only one of three courses could be followed. Either I must have surrendered my secret,-or have returned an equivocating answer,—or, finally, must have stoutly and boldly denied the fact. The first was a sacrifice which I conceive no one had a right to force from me, since I alone was concerned in the matter. The alternative of rendering a doubtful answer must have left me open to the degrading suspicion that I was not unwilling to assume the merit (if there was any) which I dared not absolutely lay claim to; or those who might think more justly of me, must have received such an equivocal answer as an indirect avowal. I therefore considered myself entitled, like an accused person put upon trial, to refuse giving my own evidence to my own conviction, and flatly to deny all that could not be proved against me. At the same time, I usually qualified my denial by stating, that, had I been the author of these works, I would have felt myself quite entitled to protect my secret by refusing my own evidence, when it was asked for to accomplish a discovery of what I desired to conceal.

The real truth is, that I never expected or hoped to disguise my connexion with these novels from any one who lived on terms of intimacy with me. The number of coincidences which necessarily existed between narratives recounted, modes of expression, and opinions broached in these Tales, and such as were used by their author in the intercourse of private life, must have been far too great to permit any of my familiar aoquaintances to doubt the identity betwixt their friend and the Author of Waverley; and I believe, they were all morally convinced of it. But while I was myself silent, their belief could not weigh much more with the world than that of others; their opinions and reasoning were liable to be taxed with partiality, or confronted with opposing arguments and opinions; and the question was not so much, whether I should be generally acknowledged to be the author, in spite of my own denial, as whether even my own avowal of the works, if such should be made, would be sufficient to put me in undisputed possession of that character.

I was not, therefore, touched by the spur of ambition, usually stimulating on such occasions; and yet I ought to stand exculpated from the charge of ungracious or unbecoming indifference to public applause. I did not the less feel gratitude for the publie favour, although I did not proclaim it, as the lover who wears his mistress' favour in his bosom, is as proud, though not so vain of possessing it, as another who displays the token of her grace upon his bonnet. Far from such an ungracious state of mind, I have seldom felt more satisfaction than when, retaming from a pleasure voyage, I found Waverley in the zenith of popularity, and public curiosity in full cry after the name of the author. The knowledge that I had the public approbation, was like having the property of a hidden treasure, not less I have been often asked concerning supposed cases, in which gratifying to the owner than if all the world knew that it was I was said to have been placed on the verge of discovery; but, his own. Another advantage was connected with the secrecy as I maintained my point with the composure of a lawyer of which I observed. I could appear, or retreat from the stage at thirty years' standing, I never recollect being in pain or confupleasure, without attracting any personal notice or attention, sion on the subject. In Captain Medwyn's Conversations of other than what might be founded on suspicion only. In my Lord Byron, the reporter states himself to have asked my noble own person also, as a successful author in another department and highly-gifted friend, "If he was certain about these novels of literature, I might have been charged with too frequent in-being Sir Walter Scott's?" To which Lord Byron replied, trusions on the public patience; but the Author of Waverley Scott as much as owned himself the Author of Waverley to was in this respect as impassable to the critic as the Ghost of me in Murray's shop. I was talking to him about that novel, Hamlet to the partisan of Marcellus. Perhaps the curiosity of and lamented that its author had not carried back the story the public, irritated by the existence of a secret, and kept afloat nearer to the time of the Revolution-Scott, entirely off his by the discussions which took place on the subject from time to guard, replied, Ay, I might have done so; but there he time, went a good way to maintain an unabated interest in these stopped. It was in vain to attempt to correct himself; he lookfrequent publications. There was a mystery concerning the au-ed confused, and relieved his embarrassment by a precipitate thor, which each new novel was expected to assist in unravel retreat." I have no recollection whatever of this scene taking ling, although it might in other respects rank lower than its place, and I should have thought that I was more likely to have predecessors. laughed than to appear confused, for I certainly never hoped to I may perhaps be thought guilty of affectation, should I allege impose upon Lord Byron in a case of the kind; and from the 2 one reason of my silence, a secret dislike to enter on personal manner in which he uniformly expressed himself, I knew his discussions concerning my own literary labours. It is in every opinion was entirely formed, and that any disclamations of case a dangerous intercourse for an author to be dwelling con- mine would only have savoured of affectation. I do not mean tually among those who make his writings a frequent and fa- to insinuate that the incident did not happen, but only that it miliar subject of conversation, but who must necessarily be par- could hardly have occurred exactly under the circumstances tial judges of works composed in their own society. The habits narrated, without my recollecting something positive on the of self-importance, which are thus acquired by authors, are subject. In another part of the same volume, Lord Byron is rehighly injurious to a well-regulated mind; for the cup of flat-ported to have expressed a supposition that the cause of my not tery, if it does not, like that of Circe, reduce men to the level of avowing myself the Author of Waverley, may have been some beasts, is sure, if eagerly drained, to bring the best and the surmise that the reigning family would have been displeased

with the work. I can only say, it is the last apprehension Ito the task. He never, I believe, wrote a single line of the proshould have entertained, as indeed the inscription to these jected work; and I only have the melancholy pleasure of prevolumes sufficiently proves. The sufferers of that melancholy serving in the Appendix,* the simple anecdote on which he period have, during the last and present reign, been honoured proposed to found it.

While those who were in habitual intercourse with the real author had little hesitation in assigning the literary property to him, others, and those critics of no mean rank, employed them Belves in investigating with persevering patience any characteristic features which might seem to betray the origin of these novels. Amongst these, one gentleman, equally remarkable for It may be mentioned, that while the paternity of these novels the kind and liberal tone of his criticism, the acuteness of his was from time to time warmly disputed in Britain, the foreign reasoning, and the very gentlemanlike manner in which he con- booksellers expressed no hesitation on the matter, but affixed ducted his inquiries, displayed not only powers of accurate in-my name to the whole of the novels, and to some besides to vestigation, but a temper of mind deserving to be employed on which I had no claim. a subject of much greater importance; and I have no doubt made converts to his opinion of almost all who thought the point worthy of consideration. Of those letters, and other attempts of the same kind, the author could not complain, though his incognito was endangered. He had challenged the public to a game at bo-peep, and if he was discovered in his "hidinghole," he must submit to the shame of detection.

To my distinguished countryman, David Wilkie, to Edwin Landseer, who has exercised his talents so much on Scottish subjects and scenery, to Messrs. Leslie and Newton, my thanks are due, from a friend as well as an author. Nor am I less obliged to Messrs. Cooper, Kidd, and other artists of distincThe following is the dedication alluded to:-" To the King's Most tion, to whom I am less personally known, for the ready zeal Gracious Majesty. Sire-The Author of this Collection of Works of Fic-with which they have devoted their talents to the same purpose. tion would not have presumed to solicit for them your Majesty's august Farther explanation respecting the edition, is the business of patronage, were it not that the perusal has been supposed, in some in- the publishers, not of the author; and here, therefore, the latter stances, to have succeeded in amusing hours of relaxation, or relieving has accomplished his task of Introduction and explanation. If, those of languor, pain, or anxiety; and therefore must have so far aided like a spoiled child, he has sometimes abused or trifled with the warmest wish of your Majesty's heart, by contributing, in however the indulgence of the public, he feels himself entitled to full besmall a degree, to the happiness of your people. They are therefore lief, when he exculpates himself from the charge of having humbly dedicated to your Majesty, agreeably to your gracious permis- been at any time insensible of their kindness. sion, by your Majesty's dutiful subject, Walter Scott. Abbotsford, 1st,