ed only, if equalled at all, by Alexandre
Dumas.

On November 7 of this laborious year, 1814, Scott was writing to Mr.
Joseph Train, thanking him for a parcel of legendary lore, including the
Galloway tale of the wandering astrologer and a budget of gypsy
traditions. Falling in the rich soil of Scott's imagination, the tale of
the astrologer yielded a name and an opening to "Guy Mannering," while
the gypsy lore blossomed into the legend of Meg Merrilies. The seed of
the novel was now sown. But between November 11 and December 25 Scott was
writing the three last cantos of the "Lord of the Isles." Yet before the
"Lord of the Isles" was published (Jan. 18, 1815), two volumes of "Guy
Mannering" were in print (Letter to Morritt, Jan. 17, 1815.) The novel
was issued on Feb. 14, 1815. Scott, as he says somewhere, was like the
turnspit dog, into whose wheel a hot cinder is dropped to encourage his
activity. Scott needed hot cinders in the shape of proof-sheets fresh
from the press, and he worked most busily when the printer's devil was
waiting. In this case, not only the printer's devil, but the wolf was at
the door. The affairs of the Ballantynes clamoured for moneys In their
necessity and his own, Scott wrote at the rate of a volume in ten days,
and for some financial reason published "Guy Mannering" with Messrs.
Longmans, not with Constable. Scott was at this moment facing creditors
and difficulties as Napoleon faced the armies of the Allies,--present
everywhere, everywhere daring and successful. True, his "Lord of the
Isles" was a disappointment, as James Ballantyne informed him. "'Well,
James, so be it; but you know we must not droop, for we cannot afford to
give over. Since one line has failed, we must just stick to something
else.' And so he dismissed me, and resumed his novel."

In these circumstances, far from inspiring, was "Guy Mannering" written
and hurried through the press. The story has its own history: one can
watch the various reminiscences and experiences of life that crystallized
together in Scott's mind, and grouped themselves fantastically into his
unpremeditated plot. Sir Walter gives, in the preface of 1829, the legend
which he heard from John MacKinlay, his father's Highland servant, and on
which he meant to found a tale more in Hawthorn's manner than in his own.
That plan he changed in the course of printing, "leaving only just enough
of astrology to annoy pedantic reviewers and foolish Puritans." Whe