[38] He wrote on sheets of a large quarto size, in a very small and
close hand, so that his usual 'task' of six 'leaves' meant about thirty
pages of print, though not very small or close print.

[39] It was early in this year, on February 23, at a Theatrical Fund
dinner, that he made public avowal of the authorship of _Waverley_.

[40] Cadell did not like any of them much, and objected still more to
others intended to follow them. Sir Walter, therefore, kept these back,
and gave them later to Heath's _Keepsake_. They now appear with their
intended companions: the slightest, _The Tapestried Chamber_, is perhaps
the best.

[41] Compare _Diary_, 1827, Nov. 7 ('I fairly softened myself like an
old fool with recalling old stories, till I was fit for nothing but
shedding tears and repeating verses the whole night'), with the famous
couplet in 'Rose Aylmer'--

'A night of memories and of sighs
I consecrate to thee.'

[42] Scott's name for _James_ Ballantyne, as 'Rigdumfunnidos' was for
John.

[43] See his own unqualified and almost too gushing acknowledgment of
this ten years before, in the _Familiar Letters_, ii. 84-85, _note_.

[44] It had also caused great and very painful trouble in his lame leg,
which from this time onwards had to be mechanically treated.

[45] The Burke and Hare murders were recent.

[46] The success of the _Magnum_ had allowed a second large dividend to
be paid, and the creditors had been generous enough to restore Scott's
forks, spoons, and books to him.

CHAPTER VII

CONCLUSION

It is natural--indeed the feeling is not merely easy of excuse, but
entitled to respect--that 'the pity of it,' the sombre close of so
brilliant a career as Scott's, should attract somewhat disproportionate
attention. Thus readers of his life are drawn more especially either to
sorrow for his calamities, or to admiration of this stoutest of all
hearts set to nearly the stiffest of all hills, or to casuistical debate
on the 'dram of eale' that brought about his own share in causing his
misfortunes. Undoubtedly, none of these things ought to escape our
attention. But, in the strict court of literary and critical audit, they
must not have more than their share. As a matter of fact, Scott's work
was almost finished--nothing distinctly novel in kind and first-rate in
quality, except the _Tales of a Grandfather_ and the Introduction to the
_Chronicles_, remained to be added to it--when that fatal