their ballad-hunting excursions, has not altered much. AltrieveHogg's home is, however, practically gone, merged in a new building with a new name-Eldinhope. Of Mount Benger not a stone is left on another. The Gordon Arms has been much enlarged since Scott and the Shepherd took here their final farewell. Mungo Park's birthplace at Foulshiels is a roofless ruin, and Ettrickhall, near Ettrick Kirk, where Scott first met James Hogg, demolished in 1830, has been recently commemorated by a handsome freestone obelisk. It is to Abbotsford, however, that one naturally turns in dealing with the homes of Sir Walter. Built between 1811 and 1825, Scott had only, practically speaking, one brief year of comfort and ease of mind in its occupancy. In 1826 came the biggest literary financial failure of the century. Soon afterwards Lady Scott died. Scott's hair began to whiten, and with intervals of broken health and pressing monetary difficulties, he was worried enough. An ugly, filthy spot was the original Abbotsford. Gradually there sprang up the modest villa, with its few enclosed fields. By-andby came a larger addition to both house and land, until finally it had grown to baronial proportionsa romance in stone and 66 A PORTRAIT OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, BY ANDREW GEDDES, A.R.A., 1818 In the Scottish National Portrait Gallery (Reproduced from the Edinburgh Waverley E ition, y kind permission of Messrs. T. C. & E. C. Jack) lime" inside and outside a tangible, unique commentary on the nation's history. Following Scott's death, the place appears to have been somewhat neglected. In 1853, Mr. Hope-Scott, husband of Lockhart's daughter, came into possession, and a new era began. An eminent and wealthy Parliamentary barrister, anxious to make Abbotsford his principal summer residence, he spent large sums on additions and improvements. "An arrangement of access by which visitors might be admitted to the showrooms was constructed, and for the use of his own family he built, during the years 1855-57, on the east side, a large addition, consisting of a chapel, hall, drawing-room, boudoir, and a suite of bedrooms. The old kitchen, with its motto, Waste not, want not,' was turned into a linen Engraved by Finden SIR WALTER SCOTT, FROM A PAINTING BY G. S. NEWTON, R.A. From a painting by C. R. room, and there was erected a long range of new kitchen offices facing the Tweed, which raised the elevation of Scott's edifice and improved the façade of the house from the river. At the same time the avenue was lengthened, a lodge built, and the main road shifted several yards back, thus giving a privacy to the house which it had not possessed in former days." This Hope-Scott extension, in light freestone, is easily recognisable in contrast to the darker hue of Sir Walter's house, which was built of native blue whin. But Abbotsford must be seen to be understood, and no place, as has been said, is more popular Painted for Mr. Murray by SIR WALTER SCOTT Rischgitz Collection as a tourist centre. very Everything has been left much as in Scott's lifetime, and for the visitor there is the rarest possible treat. The rooms shown, and in this order, are the Study, Library, Drawing-Room, Armoury, and Entrance Hall. The Dining-Room-" his own great parlour "-is not open to the public. Here the final tragedy was played out on that balmy afternoon of 1832-"a beautiful day, so warm that every window was wide open, and so perfectly still that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear-the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles-was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes." Melrose, the Capital of the Scott Country, and the "Kennaquhair" of The Monastery," has changed considerably since Scott's day. The modern town may be said to be entirely his creation. Handsome hotels, a palatial Hydropathic, the fine suburban villas on the Weir Hill side, have all sprung up since then. And in summer it is. perhaps, the gayest and most pleasure-haunted place on the Border. The Abbotsford road is crowded with the inevitable coach and waggonette traffic, and the now ubiquitous motorcar. "St. David's ruined pile," too, has its constant stream, and, thanks to the ducal owner, the structure is as well kept and as well preserved as when the Bard of his clan was its most frequent and most honoured visitor. The like can be said of Dryburgh, where he now sleeps - in picturesqueness and seclusion of situation the most charming monastic ruin in Great Britain. All is silent as a dream, But for a throstle on the ancient yew, But for the low faint murmur of the stream; And sweet old-fashioned scents are floating through Shall his sweet nature haunt this fabled river. W. S. CROCKETT N THE OF SIR PORTRAITS SCOTT OTHING in Sir Walter Scott's remarkable career is more notable than his capacity for finding time to meet the wishes, and even to gratify the whims of friends. Throughout a life full to overflowing with literary labour and professional duties, he seemed to have leisure for everything. And not least is this evident in the number of times he sat for his portrait. Proud and glad of |