"Waverley" stands by its pictures of manners, of
character, by its humour and its tenderness, by its manly "criticism of
life," by its touches of poetry, so various, so inspired, as in Davie
Gellatley with his songs, and Charles Edward in the gallant hour of
Holyrood, and Flora with her high, selfless hopes and broken heart, and
the beloved Baron, bearing his lot "with a good-humoured though serious
composure." "To be sure, we may say with Virgilius Maro, 'Fuimus Troes'
and there 's the end of an auld sang. But houses and families and men
have a' stood lang eneugh when they have stood till they fall with
honour."
"Waverley" ends like a fairy-tale, while real life ever ends like a
Northern saga. But among the good things that make life bearable, such
fairy-tales are not the least precious, and not the least enduring.
INTRODUCTION
The plan of this edition leads me to insert in this place some account of
the incidents on which the Novel of Waverley is founded. They have been
already given to the public by my late lamented friend, William Erskine,
Esq. (afterwards Lord Kinneder), when reviewing the Tales of My Landlord
for the Quarterly Review in 1817.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138