burns out for want of fuel. His Tory and High Church principles were
kept up by some occasional exercise at elections and quarter-sessions:
but those respecting hereditary right were fallen into a sort of
abeyance. Yet it jarred severely upon his feelings, that his nephew
should go into the army under the Brunswick dynasty; and the more
so, as, independent of his high and conscientious ideas of paternal
authority, it was impossible, or at least highly imprudent, to interfere
authoritatively to prevent it. This suppressed vexation gave rise to
many poohs and pshaws, which were placed to the account of an incipient
fit of gout, until, having sent for the Army List, the worthy Baronet
consoled himself with reckoning the descendants of the houses of genuine
loyalty, Mordaunts, Granvilles, and Stanleys, whose names were to be
found in that military record; and, calling up all his feelings of
family grandeur and warlike glory, he concluded, with logic something
like Falstaff's, that when war was at hand, although it were shame to
be on any side but one, it were worse shame to be idle than to be on the
worst side, though blacker than usurpation could make it. As for Aunt
Rachel, her scheme had not exactly terminated according to her wishes,
but she was under the necessity of submitting to circumstances; and her
mortification was diverted by the employment she found in fitting out
her nephew for the campaign, and greatly consoled by the prospect of
beholding him blaze in complete uniform.

Edward Waverley himself received with animated and undefined surprise
this most unexpected intelligence. It was, as a fine old poem expresses
it, 'like a fire to heather set,' that covers a solitary hill with
smoke, and illumines it at the same time with dusky fire. His tutor,
or, I should say, Mr. Pembroke, for he scarce assumed the name of tutor,
picked up about Edward's room some fragments of irregular verse, which
he appeared to have composed under the influence of the agitating