is fictitious, his hero imaginary. Richard I. is not the hero of
"Ivanhoe," nor Louis XI. of "Quentin Durward." Shakspere dramatised
history; Scott romanticised it. Still it is history, the private story
is swept into the stream of large public events, the fate of the lover or
the adventurer is involved with battles and diplomacies, with the rise
and fall of kings, dynasties, political parties, nations. Stevenson
says, comparing Fielding with Scott, that "in the work of the
latter . . . we become suddenly conscious of the background. . . . It
is curious enough to think that 'Tom Jones' is laid in the year '45, and
that the only use he makes of the rebellion is to throw a troop of
soldiers in his hero's way." [35] And it is this background which is,
after all, the important thing in Scott--the leading impression; the
broad canvas, the swarm of life, the spirit of the age, the
reconstitution of an extinct society. This he was able to give with
seeming ease and without any appearance of "cram." Chronicle matter does
not lie about in lumps on the surface of his romance, but is decently
buried away in the notes. In his comments on "Queenhoo Hall" he adverts
to the danger of a pedantic method, and in his "Journal" (October 18th,
1826) he writes as follows of his own numerous imitators: "They have to
read old books and consult antiquarian collections, to get their
knowledge. I write because I have long since read such works and
possess, thanks to a strong memory, the information which they have to
seek for. This leads to a dragging in historical details by head and
shoulders, so that the interest of the main piece is lost in minute
description of events which do not affect its progress."

Of late the recrudescence of the historical novel has revived the
discussion as to the value of the _genre_. It may be readily admitted
that Scott's best work is realistic, and is to be looked for in such
novels as "The Antiquary," "Old Mortality," "The Heart of Mid-Lothian,"