throws two or three chuckey-stones at him that make him hide among the heather, till he comes stealing out again, perhaps, by-and-by, and impotently gnaws the very granite that gored his hurdies.

I hope my good friend, Mr Jeffrey, will take in good part all I have said

about himself. There is no man I would more wish to think kindly of, and I do think kindly of him; but as for inany of his coadjutors, and in par ticular yourself, I shall be contented with merely subscribing myself yours, with disgust, JAMES HOGG. Altrive Luke, October 9th, 1820.

MY DEAR SIR,-Having been detained much longer than I expected at my good-father's in Dumfriesshire, it was not till yesterday evening, that, on coming home, I had an opportunity of perusing the Edinburgh Review you were so kind as to send me some days ago. I am sorry you have not been able to give me a notion who this poor creature is that has been flinging his dirt upon me. Do you not think it is very likely to be Macvey? If you find out that it is he, don't publish the enclosed, but send me word, and I will give him, by return of the carrier, what he will not cast, as long as his name is not Napier. As for the Scotsman crew, if you think it is any of them, say nothing about it, for I am of the opinion of Dryden, and James Ballantyne, that "some creatures cannot insult a man." The fellow, whoever he is, is a mere dunce. And, after all, between ourselves, "Donald Macgillavry," which he has selected as the "best specimen of the true old Jacobite Song," and as remarkable above its fellows-" for sly characteristic Scotch humour," is no other than a trifle of my own, which I put in to fill up a page-though not, I confess, by way of Balaam.'

I have looked over the bundle of Reviews, &c. you have been so kind as to send me, but really I have found little to interest me-so you may send them direct to your scientific editor in future. The best of the set is evidently the British Critic, and the worst Baldwin's Magazine. It is indeed Balaam, and nothing but Balaam. There are some excellent remarks on the Abbot, however, in the Monthly Review--particularly that about the dialogue of Woodcock. There can be no doubt, there is too much, by half, about the Eyasses and their washed meat. As for the story of the Lady in Canada, mentioned in Gould and Northhouse, it quite staggers me. Do you believe it? I am quite at a stand what to VOL. VIII.

think, and cannot see my way through the doings of this world now-a-days. Why don't you send me Barry Cornwall's last volume. They tell me that is not the lad's real name-after all, the extracts are very bonny. I think, however, that his first volume will still bear the bell. If quite convenient, I would also be much obliged by a sight of any of the new productions of the Cockneys-particularly Johnny Keats, who, as Aitken writes me, is really a sweet-tempered inoffensive young creature, and has a real genius for poetry, only just like to be ruined altogether, I suppose, by having forgathered, at that early and inexperienced period of life, with such a set of conceited reprobates. What is become of my Highlanders? Am I never to hear more of them? I am sure they might go in at least as Balaam.

What a capital thing that Hora Scandica is, in your last Number. Oh! these bantam cocks of Cockaigne, as they say Harry Brougham calls them, will never forgive you. That Paddy Rourke poem also is capital. Why don't you give us more of it? Grieve and I were like to die at one bit of it. By the way, he sends his best compliments to Mr North, and hopes he will give us a sight of him before the burning be clean over. It is true he cannot join in that sport, but otherwise he is well, and in good heart; and when Christopher and he get together, there is no chink in their conversation for any body else just to slip in a single word.

What is become of Odoherty? I don't think I see his pen in Number XLII. which is a scandalous omission

but, perhaps, you have taken to keeping his articles in the drawer as well as mine. This is what we poor contributors must just lay our account with

but it is a sad shame on your part. We were not home in time for the fair at Thirlestane-but from all accounts it succeeded marvellously-Your commission about the kipper and mutton K

hams shall be carefully looked to.— Give my own respects to all inquiring friends, and believe me very truly, yours, JAMES HOGG.

Altrive, October 9th.

P. S.-Oh! how I am wearying for

one of our old afternoons in Gabriel's Road! I must certainly take the road one of these days; but Clavers is the best grew in Yarrow, and I can scarcely leave the hares neither.

DEAR CHRISTOPHER,

I BELIEVE it is allowed, on all hands, that Blackwood's Magazine is the very first publication of the kind,* and this universal acquiescence in its merit spares me the trouble of writing, and you the indelicacy of inserting, any detailed argument on the subject. Among its claims on public favour, the papers on Northern Literature, the Hora Germanica, Danicæ, &c. are pre-eminently entitled to distinction. The fidelity of translation, the beauty of poetry, the accuracy of criticism, that are manifest in every page of these admirable papers, have been attended with universal applause -but as you might have some reluctance to print my panegyrics,† were I to go any farther with them, I shall not express the admiration I feel for these articles in any stronger terms.

66

Of these northern Hore, the most singular however are the Hora Scandice, which are of a species rather differing in manner and execution from the others. The incredulous were even breathing doubts as to their authenticity—and I heard certain murmurers insinuating that the name Horæ Humbuggicæ, or some such title, would have been better fitted to the first paper of this series,-I mean, that communicated by the Rev. Doctor Chiel, which gave a notice of Maga, Stormboyurs Trollkana Ski ækia," i. e. Maga the lewd witch of Stormboye. I never inclined my ear to such people, being always contented to take whatever is given to me sine grano salis, and I was very much pleased to see the series revive in your last Number, sanctioned by the mighty names of Adam Oehlenschlæger and that other gentleman. Surely this, thought I, is of itself sufficient warrant for the authenticity of the First Number; if the Second be authentic, as nobody can doubt, is not the First also? I was

NO. I.

pleased with my reasoning, and so I finished my second bottle in tranquillity.

There is, however, an opacity of intellect in some people, that makes them quite blind to the light of reason. A thick drop-serene has quenched, or a dim suffusion veiled their intellectual orbs; and they, perhaps, if they think at all, may still continue to be sceptical. But I am happy to find a Vir Doctissimus et Clarissimus, a man, cui nemo facile superbius respondeat, (to use the phrase of the learned Godofredus Hermannus, concerning the most doctriniacal Seidlerus), so convinced of the perfect authenticity of the First Number of the Hore Scandicæ, so thoroughly satisfied with its literary and rhetorical merits, as to quote it in a grave and learned work, as a poem illustrative of the Greek tragedians-the book of Jobthe Epistle to the Colossians-and Paradise Lost. For hear a most learned gentleman, whom, from his peculiar and liberal style of scissars-handling, I humbly take to be that prince of scissars-men, E.H. Barker, editor of Thes.§ dissertating in the Classical Journal.

"The following are instances," (quoth he), "from Scripture, of a species of expression frequent among the Greek tragedians (ampaiory Ilugi.”) Eurip. Phon. p. 613.

"A fire not blown shall consume "The mighty shall be him," Job xx. 26. taken away without hand," Job xxxiv. 20. "In whom also you are circumcised, with the circumcision made without hands," Col. ii. 11. Thus also, a temple made without hands." So Milton

To blood unshed the rivers will be turned," P. L. xij. 176. Miscellanea Classica, No 5. art. LVII. Classical Journal, No xxxvj. p. 240.

After this three quarters of a year elapsed, without any more lucubrations on this topic, but the matter kept nestling in his head, and at last a parallel passage to the above luckily

No XI, p. 570. much used by the

occurred, which he hastened to communicate in the following words:

“In the fifth number of Miscellanea Classica, (Class. J. No XXXVI. p. 240. art. LVII,) were quoted some instances from Scripture, of a kind of expression frequent in the lyrical parts of the Greek tragedians. The author lately met with a translation of an old Scandinavian song, in which the feasting on the body of a slain enemy, is called evidently in the same style. "A banquet, unseemly,

Of flesh.

an

Miscel. Class. No 6. Class. Jour. XXXIX. p. 8. You may, perhaps, ask how " unseemly banquet of flesh" is a similar expression to a temple made without hands," but hold in your surprise until you hear him out. The printers of the classical Journal (Oh be his type, as lead to lead, Thrown at each dull misprinter's head! An author's malison is said.")" had abominably docked and curtailed his quotation from the venerable poem of Maga, which you, by looking back to Vol. II. p. 573. of the work over which you so worthily preside, will perceive to be the old Scandinavian song he was quoting. But, at last, after another quarter of a year it makes its appearance, in full splendour, among the errata noticed in Classical Journal, No XL. p. 351. where he bids us, in p. 8, three lines from bottom, read,

"A banquet unseemly
Of flesh without firc."

The matter, after a year's discussion, is fixed here. So you see, Mr North, that raw meat (which I submit is the meaning of "flesh without fire,") is EVIDENTLY an expression in the same style as the ἀνηφαίστῳ Πυρὶ of Euripides, or the "blood unshed" of Milton. Well has it been remarked, that nothing is too hot or too heavy for the gatherer of parallel passages. I recommend the next editor of Milton to give this discovery a place in his notes; it will be as germane to the matter as nine-tenths of the annotations of Newton, or Richardson, or Thyer, or ceterorum de genere hoc.

You are glad, of course, to see your old acquaintance, Maga, in such good company; but I am grieved to say, it is not quoted, in the Classical Journal, with the accuracy that might be ex

pected, the words being-but I shall
give the entire verse, that your readers
may see the context.
"Slain the foe is

Of Maga the queenly;
We have slain by our prowess,
And eat in our ire,

A banquet uncleanly, (not unseemly)
Of flesh without fire;

We have slain, we have cat."

With the abatement of this trivial blunder, the perspicacity of the critic is undeniable. So well chosen, so apt, so similar, so authentic a parallel passage, was hardly to be found in the whole range of literature; and I am sure he would confer a high obligation translate the whole poem from the on the reading public, were he to Icelandic, giving us at the same time notes and illustrative passages of his own. The metrical part of the original might be arranged by Mr G. Burges, who would easily reduce his verses to strophe and antistrophe, by the simple and natural process he has inflicted on Euripides, Aristophanes, and other unoffending Grecians-a process which is no more than cutting the verses according to a certain pattern, and then thrusting out all refractory words and sentences that will not agree, and admitting others which, being his own making, will of course be more docile for their creator. It is a pleasant plan, as it gives us plays nearly as good as new, which we might head with the title of ΒΟΥΡΤΕΣΙΟΥ ΤΡΑΓΩΔΙΑΙ or ΚΩΜΩΔΙΑΙ, omitting the names of the antiquated Grecians. Mr Constable, I am sure, would gladly print the translation of Maga, and some gentleman about the Register-office might begot conscientiously to correct the press.

Having thus adduced so weighty a testimony in favour of the Horæ Scandice, No. I. I presume I have struck scepticism dumb. Indeed I fear that any thing I could say farther would only weaken my argument. I conclude, therefore, by simply, yet triumphantly asking, Whether the Hore Scandice would be brought forward to illustrate all at once, the Old and New Testaments, Euripides, and Milton, by so grave an authority, if it were a humbug? I remain, dear Sir, yours sincerely, A CONSTANT READER. London, October 2, 1820.