40 SCOTLAND ILLUSTRATED. 



which is believed to accompany those visionary funerals which have their 

 existence only in the superstitions of Scotland. The ruins of Dryburgh glim- 

 mered at intervals through the trees as we slowly approached its western 

 extremity. Here a considerable portion of vaulted roof still remains, opening 

 to the sides in lofty Gothic arches, and defended by a low rail of enclosure ; 

 and here was the place of sepulture selected by the poet for himself and family. 

 At one extremity of it, a tall thriving young cypress rears its spiral form. 

 Creeping plants of different kinds, with " ivy never sere," have spread themselves 

 very luxuriantly on every part of the abbey. These, probably, were, in many 

 instances, the children of art ; but, however this may have been, nature had 

 herself undertaken their education. In this spot, especially, she seems to 

 have been most industriously busy in twining her richest wreaths around those 

 walls which more immediately form her poet's tomb. Amongst her other 

 decorations is a plum-tree, once a prisoner, perhaps, chained to the solid 

 masonry, but which, having been long since emancipated, now threw out its 

 wild pendent branches, laden with purple fruit, ready to drop, as if emblematical 

 of the ripening and decay of human life. Here the coffin of Sir Walter Scott 

 was set down on trestles, placed outside the iron railing ; and here that solemn 

 service, beginning with those words so cheering to the souls of Christians, 

 " I am the resurrection and the life," was read vnth great effect by the Rev. 

 J. Williams. The manly, soldier-like features of the chief mourner, on whom 

 the eyes of sympathy were most naturally turned, betrayed at intervals the 

 powerful but inefficient efforts which he made to overcome his emotions. The 

 other relations who surrounded the bier were deeply moved ; and, amid the 

 crowd of weeping friends, no eye and no heart but were entirely absorbed in 

 that sad and impressive ceremonial which was so soon to shut from them, for 

 ever, the poet who had been so long the common idol of their admiration — 

 the man who hfid so long shared their best affections. Here and there, indeed, 

 we might have fancied that we detected some early and long-tried friends of 

 him who lay cold before us, who, while tears dimmed their eyes, and whilst 

 their lips quivered, were yet partly engaged in mixing up and contrasting the 

 happier scenes of days long gone by, with that which they were now witnessing, 

 until they became lost in dreamy reverie ; so that even the movement made 

 when the coffin was carried under the lofty arches of the ruin, and when dust 

 was committed to dust, did not entirely snap the thread of their visions. 



It was not until the harsh sound of the hammers of the workmen, who were 

 employed to rivet those iron bars covering the grave to secure it from \-iolation, 

 bad begun to echo fi-om the vaulted roof, that some of us were called to the 



