determined that literature should form the main business of Scott's life. With his mind thus intensely preoccupied, and belonging to an old Tory family, it is not surprising that he should have given little heed to the Revolutionary movement which had so deeply stirred the minds of his brother poets in England. Most keenly, however, did he sympathize with the martial spirit awakened in his countrymen by Napoleon's threatened invasion of England, and in his capacity of Quarter-Master General, he threw himself with enthusiasm into the military movements organized for national defence. While under the influence of this martial fervour, he composed his second important poem, "Marmion,” and never since Homer sang the Tale of Troy, has the poet's verse glowed more intensely with the fire of battle than in Scott's description of Flodden Field. His fame as a poet culminated with the publication of "The Lady of the Lake," the appearance of which, with his previous and subsequent works, revealed to the English people the previously unknown scenery of the Scottish Highlands, thus carrying on the revolution, in the popular conception with regard to that romantic region, which, at the close of the previous century, had been inaugurated by the poetry of Robert Burns. Thenceforth his poetical reputation began to decline, till, eclipsed by the splendid popularity of Byron, he, happily for himself and for the world, abandoned poetry for prose, and became the author of the " Waverley Novels." So small is the space, in the literature of the nineteenth century, occupied by his poetry as compared with the immense range of his productions in prose, which have won for him everlasting fame, that people are apt to forget that Walter Scott is also a poet, and as such deserves our gratitude and love. If we transport ourselves in imagination to the earlier decades of the nineteenth century, and realize the feverish excitement which characterized an age which had wit nessed the horrors of the French Revolution, and when men's minds were convulsed by the hopes and fears awakened by the Napoleonic wars, we shall better understand the rapture of applause which, on their successive appearance, greeted the poems of Sir Walter Scott. Men felt as if suddenly transported by a magician's wand from the lurid atmosphere of a volcanic region, still glowing with subterranean fire, to the romantic scenery of the Highlands, where, amid mountains and lakes and heathery moors, and wooded glens, and crystal streams, they could for awhile forget the turmoil and anxieties of the actual world, and where, while inhaling a purer air, they could listen with delight to tales of chivalry and romance, and follow in imagination the heroic adventures of a bygone age. The enthusiasm inspired by the poetry of Scott on its first appearance was doubtless due in no small measure to the circumstances of the age; nevertheless, though having no pretension to rank among the world's mastersingers, he may claim the honour of being the first English poet, after Shakespeare, to bring poetry home to the hearts of all ranks and classes of men; the prince and the peasant, the noble and the lowly born. The secret of his charm is not far to seek; the love for story-telling is universal; Scott, with his wonderful power as a narrator, while gratifying this universal taste, charmed also by the freshness, the vividness, and the rich colour of his landscapes, combined with occasional outbursts of Homeric fire, touches of exquisite pathos, and that genuine sympathy with the good, the noble and the true, which imparts to his poetry, as to his prose, a thoroughly healthy tone, recalling the words which he uttered shortly before his death, "It is a comfort to me to think that I have written nothing which, on my death-bed, I should wish blotted." His genius, finding expression through the medium of prose, as well as of poetry, was endowed with such special characteristics, that in the wide range of English literature he occupies a province peculiarly his own. His intense sympathy with the spirit of the past enabled him to reproduce the varied features of the olden time with wonderful vitality and truth; his ideal characters have thus become historical types, revealing, under the greatest variety of external circumstances, the elements of our common humanity, and illustrating the deep interest which attaches to human nature amid its manifold and wonderful diversities. 66 His creations, like those of Shakespeare, are essentially immortal;" blending with the historical traditions of "our Mother Isle," they form a permanent element in our national life; and having bequeathed to the world a galaxy of men and women breathing the breath of life, and in perfect harmony with their surroundings, a high place among the world's great creators must be accorded to Sir Walter Scott. JOHN KEATS. 1795-1821. WHILE expressing a doubt as to whether he should be remembered by posterity, yet, at the same time, recognizing in "Adonais" a poetical master-work, Shelley wrote as follows (Nov. 11, 1821), "I confess I should be surprised if that poem were born to an immortality of oblivion." In accordance with this anticipation, the beautiful Elegy written by Shelley to the memory of Keats, forms an indissoluble bond which will for ever unite the names of the two poets, whose mortal remains rest not far the one from the other, overshadowed by the Eternal city. While resembling each other in some salient features alike of their character and their genius, there was one phase of Shelly's mental activity to which Keats remained a stranger. Both were endowed with the passionate love of ideal beauty, together with that subtle imaginative power which imparts to their descriptions of Nature their unique, I am tempted to say, their magical charm. In addition, however, to his worship of intellectual Beauty, Shelley, as we have seen, was possessed by a passion for reforming the world, and accordingly threw himself heart and soul into the social and political movement inaugurated by the French Revolution. Keats, on the contrary, interested only in his art, and possessed by a yearning passion for the Beautiful, had no sympathy with the antagonistic spirit which formed so striking a characteristic of Shelley, and which he has embodied in his "Prometheus Unbound," and other poems; the spirit, namely, which, in the cause of humanity, braves danger, courts opposition, and is ready to endure unflinchingly the extremity of pain; hence, while the poetry of Shelley reflects the varied features of his age, that of Keats appears to be entirely uninfluenced by passing events. In his poems, we discern no trace of the questions, social, political and theological, which had recently so deeply stirred the hearts of men. In his day the excitement caused by the Revolution was passing away, and while Shelley strove, with passionate ardour, to re-kindle the popular enthusiasm for the great principles which had then been proclaimed, Keats, following the bent of his genius, kept aloof from politics, and with the ardour of a devotee, worshipped that supreme and universal Beauty, which he regarded as the allpervading spirit of the universe. The year 1815 witnessed the publication of Shelley's "Alastor," and the composition by Keats, then in his twentieth year, of the poem which first proved him to be endowed with genuine poetic fire,—his celebrated sonnet, "On first looking into Chapman's Homer." At a somewhat earlier period, enraptured by the perusal of Spenser, his genius, "at poesy's divine first fingertouch," had been suddenly awakened, and under the enchantment of the "Faerie Queen," he had given birth to his earliest poetical attempt, "Lines in imitation of Spenser," which, with other poems, appeared in his first volume, published in 1817. Special interest attaches to one of these juvenile poems, entitled "Sleep and Poetry," as affording us a glimpse into the inner mind of the youthful bard, with his lofty dreams and aspirations. and again : "O Poesy! for thee I grasp my pen, 66 "O for ten years, that I may overwhelm |