The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

68 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
from me; and in what consists the merit of our truth, if we observe not
our plighted word when we have promised, to our hurt? I will take the
liberty, however, to secure myself against farther interruption on his part.'"
So saying, he locked the door of communication betwixt the sleepingroom, to-which the cavalier had retreated, and the parlour;-and then,
after pacing the floor thoughtfully, returned to his seat, trimmed the lamp,
and drew out a number of letters.-" I will read these over once more," he
said, "that, if possible, the thought of public affairs may expel this keen
sense of personal sorrow. Gracious Providence, where is this to end! We
have sacrificed the peace of our families, the warmest wishes-of our young
hearts, to right the country in which we were born, and to free her from
oppression; yet it appears, that every step we have made towards liberty,
has but brought us in view of new and more terrific perils, as he who travels
ip a mountainous region, is by every step which elevates him higher, placed
in a situation of more imminent hazard."
He read long and attentively, various tedious and embarrassed letters, in
which the writers, placing before him the glory of God, and the freedom
and liberties of England, as their supreme ends, could not, by all the ambagitory expressions they made use of, prevent the shrewd eye of Markham
Everard from seeing, that self-interest and views of ambition were the principal moving springs at the bottom of their plots.
(Tapter tt ljixtr.
Sleep steals on us even like his brother Death -
We know not when it comes -we know it must come -
We may affect to scorn and to contemn it,
For'tis the highest pride of human misery
To say it knows not of an opiate;
Yet the reft parent, the despairing lover,
Even the poor wretch who waits for execution,
Feels this oblivion, against which he thought
His woes had arm'd his senses, steal upon him,
And through the fenceless citadel-the bodySurprise that haughty garrison -the mind.
HERBERT.
COLONEL EVERARD experienced the truth contained in the verses of the
quaint old bard whom we have quoted above. Amid private grief, and
anxiety for a country long a prey to civil war, and not likely to fall soon
under any fixed or well-established form of government, Everard and his
father had, like many others, turned their eyes to General Cromwell, as tha
person whose valour had made him the darling of the army, whose strong
sagacity had hitherto predominated over the high talents by which he had
been assailed in Parliament, as well as over his enemies in the field, and
who was alone in the situation to settle the nation, as the phrase then went;
or, in other words, to dictate the mode of government. The father and son
were both reputed to stand high in the General's favour. But Markham
Everard was conscious of some particulars, which induced him to doubt
whether Cromwell actually, and at heart, bore either to his father or to
himself that good-will which was generally believed. He knew him for a
profound politician, who could veil for any length of time his real sentiments
of men and things, until they could be displayed without prejudice to his
interest. And he moreover knew that the General was not likely to forget
the opposition which the Presbyterian party had offered to what Oliver called
the Great Matter- the trial, namely, and execution of the King. In this