the way of editorial work, but his odd moments
were occupied in writing about history, travels, and antiquities.[6]

In 1820 Scott wrote the _Lives of the Novelists_, which appeared the
next year in Ballantyne's _Novelists' Library_. By this time he had
begun, with _Ivanhoe_, to strike out from the Scottish field in which
all his first novels had been placed. The martial pomp prominent in this
novel reflects the eager interest with which he was at that time
following his son's opening career in the army; just as _Marmion_,
written by the young quartermaster of the Edinburgh Light Horse, also
expresses the military ardor which was so natural to Scott, and which
reminds us of his remark that in those days a regiment of dragoons was
tramping through his head day and night. Probably we might trace many a
reason for his literary preoccupations at special times besides those
that he has himself commented upon. In the case of the critical work,
however, the matter was usually determined for him by circumstances of a
much less intimate sort, such as the appeal of an editor or the
appearance of a book which excited his special interest.

When Scott was obliged to make as much money as possible he wrote novels
and histories rather than criticism. His _Life of Napoleon Buonaparte_,
which appeared in nine volumes in 1827, enabled him to make the first
large payment on the debts that had fallen upon him in the financial
crash of the preceding year, and the _Tales of a Grandfather_ were among
the most successful of his later books. His critical biographies and
many of his other essays were brought together for the first time in
1827, and issued under the title of _Miscellaneous Prose Works_. The
world of books was making his life weary with its importunate demands in
those years when he was writing to pay his debts, and it is pleasant to
see that some of his later reviews discussed matters that were not less
dear to his heart because they were not literary. The articles on
fishing, on ornamental gardening, on planting waste lands, remind us of
the observation he once made, that his oaks would outlast his laurels.

By this time the "Author of Waverley" was no longer the "unknown." His
business complications compelled him to give his name to the novels, and
with the loss of a certain kind of privacy he gained the freedom of
which later he made such fortunate use in annotating his own works. From
the beginning of 1828 until the end of