Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey | Page 4

passage that perplexed him sadly. It was the opening of
one of the cantos:
"If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale
moonlight: For the gay beams of lightsome day, Gild but to flout the
ruins gray." etc.
In consequence of this admonition, many of the most devout pilgrims
to the ruin could not be contented with a daylight inspection, and
insisted it could be nothing unless seen by the light of the moon. Now,
unfortunately, the moon shines but for a part of the month; and, what is
still more unfortunate, is very apt in Scotland to be obscured by clouds
and mists. Johnny was sorely puzzled, therefore, how to accommodate
his poetry-struck visitors with this indispensable moonshine. At length,
in a lucky moment, he devised a substitute. This was a great double
tallow candle stuck upon the end of a pole, with which he could
conduct his visitors about the ruins on dark nights, so much to their
satisfaction that, at length, he began to think it even preferable to the
moon itself. "It does na light up a' the Abbey at since, to be sure," he
would say, "but then you can shift it about and show the auld ruin bit
by bit, whiles the moon only shines on one side."
Honest Johnny Bower! so many years have elapsed since the time I
treat of, that it is more than probable his simple head lies beneath the
walls of his favorite Abbey. It is to be hoped his humble ambition has
been gratified, and his name recorded by the pen of the man he so loved

and honored.
* * * * *
After my return from Melrose Abbey, Scott proposed a ramble to show
me something of the surrounding country. As we sallied forth, every
dog in the establishment turned out to attend us. There was the old
stag-hound Maida, that I have already mentioned, a noble animal, and a
great favorite of Scott's, and Hamlet, the black greyhound, a wild,
thoughtless youngster, not yet arrived to the years of discretion; and
Finette, a beautiful setter, with soft, silken hair, long pendent ears, and
a mild eye, the parlor favorite. When in front of the house, we were
joined by a superannuated greyhound, who came from the kitchen
wagging his tail, and was cheered by Scott as an old friend and
comrade.
In our walks, Scott would frequently pause in conversation to notice his
dogs and speak to them, as if rational companions; and indeed there
appears to be a vast deal of rationality in these faithful attendants on
man, derived from their close intimacy with him. Maida deported
himself with a gravity becoming his age and size, and seemed to
consider himself called upon to preserve a great degree of dignity and
decorum in our society. As he jogged along a little distance ahead of us,
the young dogs would gambol about him, leap on his neck, worry at his
ears, and endeavor to tease him into a frolic. The old dog would keep
on for a long time with imperturbable solemnity, now and then seeming
to rebuke the wantonness of his young companions. At length he would
make a sudden turn, seize one of them, and tumble him in the dust; then
giving a glance at us, as much as to say, "You see, gentlemen, I can't
help giving way to this nonsense," would resume his gravity and jog on
as before.
Scott amused himself with these peculiarities. "I make no doubt," said
he, "when Maida is alone with these young dogs, he throw's gravity
aside, and plays the boy as much as any of them; but he is ashamed to
do so in our company, and seems to say, 'Ha' done with your nonsense,
youngsters: what will the laird and that other gentleman think of me if I
give way to such foolery?'"

Maida reminded him, he said, of a scene on board an armed yacht in
which he made an excursion with his friend Adam Ferguson. They had
taken much notice of the boatswain, who was a fine sturdy seaman, and
evidently felt flattered by their attention. On one occasion the crew
were "piped to fun," and the sailors were dancing and cutting all kinds
of capers to the music of the ship's band. The boatswain looked on with
a wistful eye, as if he would like to join in; but a glance at Scott and
Ferguson showed that there was a struggle with his dignity, fearing to
lessen himself in their eyes. At length one at his messmates came up,
and seizing him by the arm, challenged him to a jig. The boatswain,
continued Scott, after a little hesitation complied, made an awkward
gambol or two, like our