e, which, however, is a
blunder. St. Leonard's and St. Salvator's had already been merged in the
United College (1747). All this is in direct contradiction to the
evidence in the novel, which makes the Dominie a Glasgow man. Yet the
change seems to be due to Scott rather than to Terry. It is certain that
Colonel Mannering would not have approved of the treatment which the
Dominie undergoes, in a play whereof the plot and conduct fall little
short of the unintelligible.

Against the character of Pleydell "a few murmurs of pedantic criticism,"
as Lockhart says, were uttered, and it was natural that Pleydell should
seem an incredible character to English readers. But there is plenty of
evidence that his "High Jinks" were not exaggerated.

There remains the heroine of the novel, as Mr. Ruskin not incorrectly
calls her, Meg Merrilies, the sybil who so captivated the imagination of
Keats. Among Scott's many weird women, she is the most romantic, with her
loyal heart and that fiery natural eloquence which, as Scott truly
observed, does exist ready for moments of passion, even among the
reticent Lowlanders. The child of a mysterious wandering race, Meg has a
double claim to utter such speeches as she addresses to Ellangowan after
the eviction of her tribe. Her death, as Mr. Ruskin says, is
"self-devoted, heroic in the highest, and happy." The devotion of Meg
Merrilies, the grandeur of her figure, the music of her songs, more than
redeem the character of Dirk Hatteraick, even if we hold, with the
"Edinburgh" reviewer, that he is "a vulgar bandit of the German school,"
just as the insipidity and flageolet of the hero are redeemed by the
ballad sung in the moment of recognition.
"Are these the Links of Forth, she said,
Or are they the crooks of Dee,
Or the bonnie woods of Warroch Head,
That I so fain would see?"
"Guy Mannering," according to Lockhart, was "pronounced by acclamation
fully worthy to share the honours of 'Waverley.'" One star differeth from
another in glory, and "Guy Mannering" has neither that vivid picture of
clannish manners nor that noble melancholy of a gallant and forlorn
endeavour of the Lost Cause,
"When all was done that man may do,
And all was done in vain,"
which give dignity to "Waverley." Yet, with Lockhart, we may admire, in
"Guy Mannering," "the rapid, ever-heightening interest of the narrative,
the unaffected kindliness of feeling