Note 24 — LECTURES ON THE ENGLISH COMIC WRITERS (continued 4)

When Meg Merrilies says in her dying moments—‘Nay, nay, lay my head to the East,’ what was the East to her? Not a reality but an idea of distant time and the land of her forefathers; the last, the strongest, and the best that occurred to her in this world. Her gipsy slang and dress were quaint and grotesque; her attachment to the Kaim of Derncleugh and the wood of Warrock was romantic; her worship of the East was ideal.