The Complete Poetical and Dramatic Works of Sir Walter Scott, with an introductory memoir by W. B. Scott

Front matter

Fifteen Volumes in an Oak Bookcase. Price One Guinea. " Marvels of clear type and general neatness." — Daily Telegraph. , MORLE Y'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. In Monthly Volumes, ONE SHILLING Eaeh. IEADY ON THE 25//** OE EACH MONTH. MORLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. i. SHERIDAN'S PLAYS. 2. PLAYS FROM MOLIERE. By English Dramatists. 3. MARLOWE'S FAUSTUS & GOETHE'S FAUST. 4- CHRONICLE OF THE CID. 5. RABELAIS' GARGANTUA AND THE HEROIC DEEDS OF PANTAGRUEL. 6. THE PRINCE. By Machiavelli. 7. BACON'S ESSAYS. 8. DE FOE'S JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR. 9. LOCKE ON TOLERATION AND ON CIVIL GOVERNMENT; WITH SIR ROBERT FILMER;S PATRIARCHA. 10. BUTLER'S ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 11. DRYDEN'S VIRGIL. 12. SIR WALTER SCOTT'S DEMONOLOGY AND "WITCHCRAFT. 13. HERRICK'S HESPERIDES. 14. COLERIDGE'S TABLE TALK: WITH THE ANCIENT MARINER AND CHRISTABEL. 15.

BOCCACCIO'S DECAMERON. 16. STERNE'S TRISTRAM SHANDY. 17. HOMER'S ILIAD, Translated by George Chapman. 18. MEDIÆVAL TALES. 19. JOHNSON'S RASSELAS; AND VOLTAIRE'S CANDIDE. 20. PLAYS AND POEMS BY BEN JONSON. 21. HOBBES'S LEVIATHAN. 22. BUTLER'S HUDIBRAS. 23. IDEAL COMMONWEALTHS: MORE'S UTOPIA ; BACON'S NEW ATLANTIS ; AND CAM- ' PANELLA'S CITY OF THE SUN. 24. CAVENDISH'S LIFE OF WOLSEY. 25 and 26. DON QUIXOTE (Two Volumes). GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LONDON, GLASGOW, AND NEW YORK. BARLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. - -1* 28 BURLESQUE PLAYS AND POEMS. DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY. Longfellow's Translation. GOLDSMITH'S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD, PLAYS AND POEMS. 29, FABLES and PROVERBS from the SANSKRIT. CHARLES LAMB'S ESSAYS OF ELIA. 3°- 51 THE HISTORY OF THOMAS ELLWOOD, 52 Written by Himself. EMERSON'S ESSAYS, REPRESENTATIVE MEN, AND SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE. 35 SOUTHEY'S LIFE OF NELSON. 54- DE QUINCEY'S OPIUM EATER, SHAKS- PEARE, GOETHE. 35 5'- STORIES OF IRELAND.

By Maria Edgeworth. THE PLAY'S OF ARISTOPHANES, Translated by Frere. 57 3». SPEECHES AND LETTERS. By Edmund Burke. THOMAS A KEMPIS' IMITATION OF CHRIST. 39 POPULAR SONGS OF IRELAND, Collected by Thomas Croston Croker. 4°. THE PLAYS of ÆSCHYLUS, Translated by R. Potter. GOETHE'S FAUST, the Second Part. 41 4- 45 FAMOUS PAMPHLETS. SOPHOCLES, Translated by Faucklin. TALES OF TERROR AND WONDER. 44 45 46 VESTIGES OF THE NATURAL HISTORY OF CREATION. 47 THE BARONS' WARS, &c. By Michael Drayton. COBBETT'S ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN. 4» THE BANQUET OF DANTE. Translated by Elizabeth Price Sayer. 49 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS LONDON, GLASGOW, AND NEW YORK. THE COMPLETE POETICAL AND DRAMATIC WORKS OP SIR WALTER SCOTT 25aHantjme £>tcsg CALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON THE COMPLETE POETICAL AND DRAMATIC WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT MUfjj an Infrobuttorij gltmoir BY WILLIAM B. SCOTT.

Introduction

. A poem of nearly thirty years' standing may be supposed hardly to need an Introduction, since, without one, it has been able to keep itself afloat through the best part of a generation. Nevertheless, as, in the edition of the Waverley Novels now in course of publication, I have imposed on myself the task of saying something concerning the purpose and hi.story i Published in 4to (£i sj.) 1805. acknowledgment of his professional talents which they had it in their power to offer. But this is an incident much beyond the ideas of a period of thirty years' distance, when a barrister who really possessed any turn for lighter literature, was at as much pains to conceal it, as if it had in reality been some thing to be ashamed of ; and I could mention more than one instance in which literature and society have suffered much loss, that juris prudence might be enriched.

Such, however, was not my case; for the reader will not wonder that my open inter ference with matters of light literature diminished my employment in the weightier matters of the law. Nor did the solicitors, upon whoee choice the counsel takes rank in his profession, do me less than justice, by regarding others among my contemporaries as fitter to dis charge the duty due to their clients, than a young man who was taken up with running after ballads, whether Teutonic or national. My profession and 1, therefore, came to stand nearly upon the footing which honest Slender consoled himself on having established with Mistress Anne Page; "There was no great love between us at the beginning, and it pleased Heaven to decrease it on farther acquaintance." I became sensible that the time was come when I must either buckle myself resolutely to the "toil by day, the Limp by night, renouncing all the Delilahs of my imagination, or bid adieu to the profession of the law, and hold another course. quity, accompanied with notes referring to' the obscure feuds of barbarous clans, of whose very names civilized history was ignorant.

It waB, on the whole, one of those books which are more praised than they are read. At this time I stood personally in a different position from that which I occupied when I first dipt my desperate pen in ink for other purposes than those of my profession. In 1796, when I first published the translations from Biirger, I was an insulated individual, with only my own wants to provide for, and having, in a great measure, my own inclina tions alone to consult. In 1803, when the second edition of the Minstrelsy appeared, I had arrived at a period of life when men, however thoughtless, encounter duties and circum stances which press consideration and plans of life upon the most careless minds. I had been for some time married — was the father of a rising family, and, though fully enabled to meet the consequent demands upon me, it was ray duty and desire to place myself in a situation which would enable me to make honourable provision against the various con tingencies of life.

It maybe rcadilysupposed that the attempts which I had made in literature had been unfavourable to my success at the bar. The god dess Themis is, at Edinburgh, and I suppose everywhere else, of a peculiarly jealous disposition. She will not readily consent to share her authority, and sternly demands from her votaries not only that real duty be carefully attended to and discharged, but that a certain air of business shall be observed even in the midst of total idleness. It is prudent, if not absolutely necessary, in a young bar rister, to appear completely engrossed by his profession ; however destitute of employment he may in reality be, he ought to preserve, if possible, the appearance of full occupation. He should, therefore, seem perpetually en gaged among his law-papers, dusting them, as it were ; and, as Ovid advises the fair, I confess my own inclination revolted from the more severe choice, which might have been deemed by many the wiser alternative.

As my transgressions had been numerous, my repentance must have been signalized by unusual sacrifices. I ought to have mentioned, that since my fourteenth or fifteenth year, my health, originally delicate, had become ex tremely robust. From infancy I had laboured under the infirmity of a severe lameness, but. as I believe is usually the case with men of spirit who suffer under personal inconveniences of this nature, I had, since the improvement of my health, in defiance of this incapacitating circumstance, distinguished myself by the endurance of toil on foot or horseback, having often walked thirty miles a-day, and rode upwards of a hundred, without resting. In this manner I made many pleasant journeys through parts of the country then not very accessible, gaining more amusement and in struction than I have been able to acquire since I have travelled in a more commodious manner.

I practised most silvan sports also, with some success, and with great delight. But these pleasures must have been all re signed, or used with great moderation, had I determined to regain my station at the bar It was even doubtful whether I could, with perfect character as. a jurisconsult, retain a situation in a volunteer corps of cavalry, which I then held. The threats of invasion were at this time instant and menacing ; the call by Britain on her children was universal, and was answered by some, who, like myself, consulted rather their desire than their ability to bear arms. My services, however, were found use- " Si nullus erit pulvis, tamen excute nulluin." Perhaps such extremity of attention is more especially required, considering the great number of counsellors who arc called to the bar, and how very small a proportion of them are finally disposed, or find encouragement, to follow the law as a profession.

Hence the number of deserters is so great, that the least lingering look behind occasions a young novice to be set down as one of the intending fugi tives. Certain it is, that the Scottish Themis was at this time peculiarly jealous of any flirta tion with the Muses, on the part of those who had ranged themselves under her banners. This was probably owing to her consciousness of the superior attractions of her rivals. Of late, however, she has relaxed in some instances in this particular, an eminent example of which has been shown in the case of my friend, Mr. Jeffrey, who, after long conduct ing one of the most influential literary period icals of the age, with unquestionable ability, has been, by the general consent of his brethren, recently elected to be their Dean of Faculty, or President,— being the highest THE LA V OE THE LAST MINSTREL. 19 ful in assisting to maintain the discipline of the corps, being the point on which their constitu tion rendered them most amenable to military criticism.

In other respects, the squadron was a fine one, consisting chiefly of handsome men, well mounted and armed at their own expense. My attention to the corps took up a good deal of time ; aud while it occupied many of the happiest hours of my life, it furnished an additional reason for my reluctance again to encounter the severe course of study indispensable to success in the juridical profes sion. general company, without yielding to the very natural temptation of narrowing myself to what is called literary society. By doing so, I imagined I should escape the besetting sin of listening to language, which, from one motive or other, is apt to ascribe a very undue degree of consequence to literary pursuits, as if they were, indeed, the business, rather than the amusement, of Use. The opposite course can only be compared to the injudicious. conduct of one who pampers himself with cordial and luscious draughts, until he is unable to endure wholesome bitters.

Like "Gil Bias, therefore, I resolved to stick by the society of my commis, instead of seeking that of a more literary cast, and to maintain my general interest in what was going on around me, reserving the man of letters for the desk and the library. My second resolution was a corollary from the first. I determined that, without shutting my ears to the voice of true criticism, I would pay no regard to that which assumes the form of satire. I therefore resolved to arm myself with that triple brass of Horace, of which those of my profession are seldom held deficient, against all the roving warfare of satire, parody, and sarcasm ; to laugh if the jest was a good one, or, if otherwise, to let it hum and buzz itself to sleep. It is to the observance of these rules (according to my best belieO, that, after a life of thirty years engaged in literary labours of various kinds, I attribute my" never having been entangled in any literary quarrel or controversy ; and, which is a still more pleasing result, that I have been distinguished by the personal friendship of my most approved contemporaries of all parties.

I adopted, at the same time, another resolution, on which it may doubtless be remarked, that it was well for me that I had it in my power to do so, and that, therefore, it is a line of conduct which, depending upon accident, can be less generally applicable in other cases. Yet I fail not to record this part of my plan, convinced that, though it may not be in every one's power to adopt exactly the same resolution, he may nevertheless, by his own exertions, in some shape or other, attain the object on which jt was founded, namely, to secure the means of subsistence, without relying exclusively on literary talents. In this respect, I determined that literature should be my staff, but not my crutch, and that the profits of my literary labour, however convenient otherwise, should not, if I could help it, become necessary to my ordinary expenses.

With this purpose I resolved, if the interest of my friends could so far favour me, to retire upon any of the respectable offices of the law, in which persons of that profession are glad to take refuge, when they feel themselves, or are judged by others, incompetent to aspire to its higher honours. Upon such a post an author might hope to retreat, without any perceptible alteration of circumstances, whenever the time should arrive that the public grew weary of his endeavours to please, or he himself should tire of the pen. At this period of my life, I possessed so many friends capable of assisting On the other hand, my father, whose feel ings might have been hurt by my quitting the bar, had been for two or three years dead, so that I had no control to thwart my own inclination ; and my income being equal to all the comforts, aud some of the elegancies, of life, I was not pressed to an irksome labour by necessity, that most powerful of motives ; consequently, I was the more easily seduced to choose the employment which was most agreeable to me.

This was yet the easier, that in 1800 I had obtained the prefer ment of Sheriff of Selkirkshire, about ,£300 a-year in value, and which was the more agreeable to me, as in that county I had several friends and relations. But I did not abandon the profession to which I had been educated, without certain prudential resolu tions, which, at the risk of some egotism, I will here mention ; not without the hope that they may be useful to young persons who may stand in circumstances similar to those in which I then stood. In the first place, upon considering the lives and fortunes of persons who had given them selves up to literature, or to the task of pleas ing the public, it seemed to me, that the circumstances which chiefly affected then happiness and character, were those from which Horace has bestowed upon authors the epithet of the Irritable Race.

It requires no dei->th of philosophic reflection to perceive, that the petty warfare of Pope with the Dunces of his period could not have been carried on without his suffering the most acute torture, such as a man must endure from musquittoes. by whose stings he suffers agony, although he can crush them in his grasp by myriads. Nor is it necessary to call to memory the many humiliating instances in which men of the greatest genius have, to avenge some pitiful quarrel, made themselves ridiculous during their lives, to become the still more degraded objects of pity to future times. Upon the whole, as I had no pretension to the genius of the distinguished persons who had fallen into such errors, I concluded there could be no occasion for imitating them in their mistakes, or what I considered as such ; and, in adopting literary pursuits as the principal occupation of my future Use, I resolved, if possible, to avoid those weaknesses of temper which seemed to have most easily beset my more celebrated predecessors.

With this view, it was my first resolution to keep as far as was in my power abreast of society, continuing to maintain my place in doubtless for that reason, so popular with our old minstrels, is, for the same reason, apt to prove a snare to the composer who uses it in more modem days, by encouraging him in a habit of slovenly composition. The necessity of occasional pauses often forces the young poet to pay more attention to sense, as the boy's kite rises highest when the train is loaded by a due counterpoise. The Author was therefore intimidated by what Byron calls the " fatal facility " of the octo-syUabic verse, which was otherwise better adapted to his purpose of imitating the more ancient poetry. I was not less at a loss for a subject which might admit of being treated with the simpli city and wildness of the ancient ballad.

But accident dictated both a theme and measure, which decided the subject, as weU as the structure of the poem. The lovely young Countess of Dalkeith, afterwards Harriet Duchess of Buccleuch, had come to the land of her husband with the de sire of making herself acquainted with its traditions and customs, as weU as its manners and history. All who remember this lady wiU agree, that the inteUectual character of her extreme beauty, the amenity and courtesy of her manners, the soundness of her under standing, and her unbounded benevolence, gave more the idea of an angelic visitant, than of a being belonging to this nether world ; and such a thought was but too consistent with the short space she was permitted to tarry among us. Of course, where all made it a pride and pleasure to gratify her wishes, she soon heard enough of Border lore ; among others, an aged gentleman of property,' near Langholm, com municated to her ladyship the story of Gilpin Homer, a tradition in which the narrator, and many more of that country, were firm beUevers.

The young Countess, much deUghted with the legend, and the gravity and fuU confidence with which it was told, enjoined on me as a task to compose a baUad on the subject Of course, to hear was to obey ; and thus the goblin story, objected to by several critics as an excrescence upon the poem, was, in fact, the occasion of its being written. A chance similar to that which dictated the subject, gave me also the hint of a new mode of treating it. We had at that time the lease of a pleasant cottage, near Lasswade, on the romantic banks of tlie Esk. to which we escaped when the vacations of the Court per mitted me so much leisure. Here I had the pleasure to receive a visit from Mr. Stoddart (now Sir John Stoddart, Judge-Advocate at Malta), who was at that time coUecting tlie me in this object of ambition, that I could hardly over-rate my own prospects of obtain ing the preferment to which I limited my wishes ; and, in fact, I obtained in no long period the reversion of a situation which completely met them.

Thus far all was well, and the Author had been guilty, perhaps, of no great imprudence, when he relinquished his forensic practice with the hope of making some figure in the field of literature. But an established character with the public, in my new capacity, still re mained to be acquired. I have noticed, that the translations from Burger had been unsuccessful, nor had the original poetry which appeared under tlie auspices of Mr. Lewis, in the "Tales of Wonder," in any great degree raised my reputation. It is true, I had private friends disposed to second me in my efforts to obtain popularity. But I was sports man enough to know, that if the greyhound does not run weU, the halloos of his patrons will not obtain the prize for him. Neither was I ignorant that the practice of baUad -writing was for the present out of fashion, and that any attempt to revive it, or to found a poetical character upon it, would certainly fail of success.

The ballad measure itself, which was once listened to as to an enchanting melody, had become hackneyed and sickening, from its being the accompani ment of every grinding hand-organ ; and besides, a long work in quatrains, whether those of the common ballad, or such as are termed elegiac, has an effect upon the mind like that of the bed of Procrustes upon the human body ; for, as it must be both awkward and difficult to carry on a long sentence from one stanza to another, it foUows. that the meaniug of each period must be comprehended within lour lines, and equally so that it must be extended so as to fill that space. The alternate dilation and contraction thus ren dered necessary is singularly unfavourable to narrative composition ; and the " Gondibert " of Sir WilUam D'Avenant, though containing many striking passages, has never become popular, owing chiefly to its being told in this species of elegiac verse.

In the dilemma occasioned by this objection, the idea occurred to the Author o£ usin(r the measured short Une, which forms the structure of so much minstrel poetry, that it may be properly termed the Romantic stanza, by way of distinction ; and which appears so natural to our language, that the very best of our poets have not been able to protract it into the verse properly caUed Heroic, without the use of epithets which are, to say the least, unnecessary.1 But, on tlie other hand, the extreme faciUty of the short couplet, which ;.eems congenial to our language, and was, 1 This was Mr. Beattie of Mickledale, a man then con siderably upwards of eighty, of a shrewd and sarcastic temper, which he did not at all times suppress, .is tbe following anecdote will show: A worthy clergyman, now deceased, with better good-will than tact, was encteavour ing to push tho senior forward in his recollection of Bonier ballads aud legends, by expressing reiterated surprise at his wonderful memory.

" No, sir." said old Mickledale ; " my memory is good for little, for it cannot retain what ought to be preserved. I can remember all these stories about the auld riding d-iys, which are of no earthly im portance; but were you, reverend sir. to repeat yom liest sermon in this drawingmorn, I could not tell you half an hour afterwards what you had been speakine about." 1 Thus it has been often remarked, that, in the opening com^cta of Pope's translation of the Iliad, there are two syllables forming a superfluous word in each line, as may lie observed by attending to such words us are printed in Italics. Achilles' wrath to Greece the direful spring i>i woes annum ber'd, heavenly goddess, sine ; That wrath which sent to Pluto s gloomy reign, The souls of mighty chiefs in battle slain, Whose bones, unburied on the desert shore.

Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore." particulars which he afterwards embodied in his "Remarks on Local Scenery in Scotland."1 I was of some use to him in procuring the in formation which he desired, and guiding him to the scenes which he wished to see. In return, he made me better acquainted than I had hitherto been with the poetic effusions which have since made the Lakes of Westmoreland, and the authors by whom they have been sung, so famous wherever the English tongue is spot en. were men whose talents might have raised them to the highest station in literature, had they not preferred exerting them in their own profession of the law, in which they attained equal preferment. I was in the habit of con sulting them on my attempts at composition, having equal confidence in their sound taste and friendly sincerity. ' In this specimen 1 had, in the phrase of the Highland servant, packed all that was my own at least, for I had also in cluded a Une of invocation, a little softened, from Coleridge — I was already acquainted with the " Joan of Arc,'' the " Thalaba," and the "Metrical Bal lads " of Mr. Southey, which had found their way to Scotland, and were generally admired.

But Mr. Stoddart, who had the advantage of personal friendship with the authors, and who possessed a strong memory with an excellent taste, was able to repeat to me many long specimens of their poetry, which had not yet appeared in print. Amongst others, was the striking fragment caUed " Christabel," by Mr. Coleridge, which, from the singularly irregular structure of the stanzas, and the liberty which it allowed the author to adapt the sound to the sense, seemed to be exactly suited to such an extravaganza as I meditated on the subject of Gilpin Homer. As appUed to comic and humorous poetry, this mescolanzaof measures had been already used by Anthony Hall, Anstey, Dr. Wolcott, and others : but it was in "Christabel' that I first found it used in serious poetry, and it is to Mr. Coleridge that I am bound to make the acknowledgment due from the pupil to his master.

I observe that Lord Byron, in noticing my obligations to Mr. Coleridge, which I have been always most ready to acknowledge, expressed, or was understood to express, a hope that I did not write an unfriendly review on Mr. Coleridge's productions. * On this subject I have only to say, that I do not even know the review which is alluded to ; and were I ever to take the un becoming freedom of censuring a man of Mr. Coleridge's extraordinary talents, it would be on account of the caprice and indolence with which he has thrown from him, as if in mere wantonness, those unfinished scraps of poetry, which, Uke the Torso of antiquity, defy the skUl of his poetical brethren to complete them. The charming fragments which the author abandons to their fate, are surely too valuable to be treated like the proofs of care less engravers, the sweepings of whose studios often make the fortune of some painstaking collector.

" Mary, mother, shield us well." As neither of my friends said much to me on the subject of the stanzas I showed them before their departure, I had no doubt that their disgust had been greater than their good nature chose to express. Looking upon them, therefore, as a failure, I threw the manuscript into the fire, and thought as little more as I could of the matter. Some time afterwards I met one of my two counseUors, who enquired, with considerable appearance of interest, about the progress of the romance I had commenced, and was greatly surprised at learning its fate. He confessed that neither he nor our mutual friend had been at first able to give a precise opinion on a poem so much out of the common road, but that as they walked home together to the city, they had talked much on the sub ject, and the result was an earnest desire that I would proceed with the composition.

He also added, that some sort of prologue might be necessary, to place the mind of the hearers in the situation to understand and enjoy the poem, and recommended the adoption of such quaint mottoes as Spenser has used to announce the contents of the chapters of the " Faery Queen," such as — "Babe's bloody bands may nut be cleansed. The face of golden Mean : Her sisters two, Extremities, Her strive to banish clean. I entirely agreed with my friendly critic in the necessity of having some sort of pitch pipe, which might make readers aware of the object, or rather the tone, of the publication. But I doubted whether, in assuming the ora cular style of Spenser's mottoes, the interpreter might not be censured as the harder to be understood of the two. I therefore introduced the Old Minstrel, as an appropriate prolocutor, by whom the lay might be sung, or spoken, and the introduction of whom betwixt the cantos, might remind the reader at intervals, of the time, place, and circumstances of the recitation.

This species of cadre, or frame, afterwards afforded the poem its name of '* The Lay of the Last Minstrel." The work was subsequently shown to other friends during its progress, and received the imprimatur of Mr. Francis Jeffrey, who had been already for some time distinguished by his critical talent. I did not immediately proceed upon my pro jected labour, though I was now furnished with a subject, and with a structure of verse which might have the effect of novelty to the public ear, and afford the Author an opportu nity of varying his measure with tlie variations of a romantic theme. On the contrary, it was, to the best of my recollection, more than a year after Mr. Stoddart's visit, that, by way of experiment, I composed the first two or three stanzas of " The Lay of the Last Minstrel."

I was shortlv afterwards vi sited by two intimate friends, one of whom still survives. They i One of these, William Erskine, Esq. (Lord Kinned der), 1 have often had occasion to mention, and though I may hardly be thanked for disclosing tbe name of the other, yet I cannot but Btate that the second is George Cranstoun. Esq., now a Senator of the College of Justice by the title of Lord Corehouse. 1831. J Two volumes, royal octavo, ifoW „ ' * „ „ „. I Medwiu's " Conversations of Lord Byron, p. 3°9had to perform a task difficult to human vanitv when caUed upon to make the neces, sarv deductions from his own merits, in a calm attempt to account for his popularity. _ \ few additional remarks on the Authors literary attempts after this period will be found in the Introduction to the Poem of " Marmion."

Tbe poem, being once Ucensed by the critics as fit for the market, was soon finished, pro ceeding at about the rate of a canto per week. There was, indeed, little occasion for pause or hesitation, when a troublesome rhyme might be accommodated by an alteration of the stanza, or where an incorrect measure might be remedied by a variation in the rhyme. It was finaUy published in 1805, and may be regarded as the first work in which the writer, who has been since so voluminous, laid his claim to be considered as an original author. The book was published by Longman and Company, and Archibald Constable and Com pany. The principal of the latter firm was then commencing that course of bold and liberal industry which was of so much advantage to his country, and might have been so to himself, but for causes which it is needless to enter into here.