he originally read the book, passed
lightly before his eye, will now, I venture to say, possess a warm and
vivid interest, as inimitably characteristic of a departed friend. The
kindest of husbands and fathers never portrayed himself with more
unaffected truth than in this vain effort, if such he really fancied
he was making, to sustain the character of "a cross old bachelor." The
whole man, just as he was, breathes in every line, with all his
compassionate and benevolent sympathy of heart, all his sharpness of
observation, and sober shrewdness of reflection; all his enthusiasm
for nature, for country life, for simple manners and simple pleasures,
mixed up with an equally glowing enthusiasm, at which many may
{p.046} smile, for the tiniest relics of feudal antiquity--and last,
not least, a pulse of physical rapture for the "circumstance of war,"
which bears witness to the blood of _Boltfoot_ and _Fire-the-Braes_.

At Brussels, Scott found the small English garrison left there in
command of Major-General Sir Frederick Adam, the son of his highly
valued friend, the Lord Chief Commissioner. Sir Frederick had been
wounded at Waterloo, and could not as yet mount on horseback; but one
of his aides-de-camp, Captain Campbell, escorted Scott and his party
to the field of battle, on which occasion they were also accompanied
by another old acquaintance of his, Major Pryse Gordon, who being then
on half-pay, happened to be domesticated with his family at Brussels.
Major Gordon has since published two lively volumes of Personal
Memoirs; and Gala bears witness to the fidelity of certain
reminiscences of Scott at Brussels and Waterloo, which occupy one of
the chapters of this work. I shall, therefore, extract the passage:--

"Sir Walter Scott accepted my services to conduct him to
Waterloo: the General's aide-de-camp was also of the party.
He made no secret of his having undertaken to write
something on the battle; and perhaps he took the greater
interest on this account in everything that he saw. Besides,
he had never seen the field of such a conflict; and never
having been before on the Continent, it was all new to his
comprehensive mind. The day was beautiful; and I had the
precaution to send out a couple of saddle-horses, that he
might not be fatigued in walking over the fields, which had
been recently ploughed up. In our rounds we fell in with
Monsieur de Costar, with