His reputation and his fortune seemed now to be completely established. Marmion, published in 1808, and the Lady of the Lake, in 1810, were received each with greater favour than its predecessor. Don Roderick, 1811, was not successful; Rokeby, 1813, and The Lord of the Isles, 1814, were generally thought inferior in merit to his earlier works. This might arise, in part, from the extraordinary rapidity of their composition: for Rokeby was commenced September 15, and finished December 31, 1812; and the Lord of the Isles was written in the following autumn, with equal rapidity, but under circumstances which rendered the task a burden, and damped the fire of his muse. Still these, like their predecessors, commanded very large sales, and brought in large sums to the author, and large profits to the publishers. His popularity, however, was on the ebb, and it was the general impression that Scott had nearly written himself out. At the time when this was said, he had already published one anonymous poem, the Bridal of Triermain, 1810, as if ashamed of his prolific pen. Afterwards, in 1817, he published Harold the Dauntless, in the same way. The censure, however, was not unfounded; and the two last acknowledged poems of Scott were inferior in interest and execution to his earlier productions. Another reason for the decrease of Scott’s popularity he has himself assigned, in the rapid growth of Lord Byron’s. It was about the end of 1813 that accident threw in his way the mislaid manuscript of the beginning of Waverley, seven chapters of which he had composed in 1805, and had thrown aside, in deference to the unfavourable opinion of a critical friend. At different times he had been inclined to resume this work, but had been prevented by the loss of the manuscript: which he now applied himself in earnest to complete. Waverley was published in the summer of 1814; and obtained success beyond the author’s fondest expectations. The history of this wonderful series of works of fiction, and the author’s reasons for adopting and retaining his incognito, are familiar to the public, through his own account in the Introduction to the Waverley Novels. The manner in which the secret was kept is a remarkable anecdote in literary history: for, whatever conclusions might be drawn from internal evidence by Scott’s intimate friends, and from putting things together by the public, not a particle of external evidence was produced to fasten it upon him, until the failure of Constable’s house in 1826 led to Scott’s public avowal of the authorship in 1827. Perhaps this mystery tended to keep alive the public interest: perhaps also Scott had a keener relish of the homage paid to the Great Unknown, than if it had been offered to him in his own person.