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slightly regarded under such circumstances? Would it be selected strongly hostile to the Editor's own sentiments: calumnious in the last degree towards one whom the Editor honoured amongst the highest? It would be trifling with the understandings of our readers to endeavour to strengthen the argument. The present Editor of Blackwood's Magazine,-whether challenged in his own name, or under his aliases of Doctor Morris and Christopher North, stands deprived of all benefit from his numerous disguisements, and counterfeited, and falsified titles, and is clearly convicted of foul treachery towards "Samuel Taylor Coleridge," "the illustrious and excellent friend," whom he, Peter Morris, declares to himself, Christopher North, he holds in honour amongst the highest!

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We have gone into this examination of evidence tediously, perhaps, -and we believe unnecessarily : the present Editor of Blackwood's Magazine stands on the face of the publication chargeable with the remarks on the "Biographia Literaria' of Mr. Coleridge: they bear their own evidence of being his,—and we might have spared ourselves the trouble of going through the process of proving what he will not, we should think, dare to deny. There is now a perfect understanding in Edinburgh, that the same man wrote the first article, at least, signed Z. in which Mr. Coleridge is styled "a still greater quack than Leigh Hunt."The most infamous part, however, of the treatment, which Mr. Coleridge has received at this person's hands, clearly is the recent unauthorized publication of his private letter.No man who reads that letter can avoid perceiving that it is as unfit to be given to the public eye as any letter can be ;-and the dirty design of exposing the writer to the sneers and ridicule of the sarcastic; the insolent advantage taken of the injudicious confidence of a strangely constituted, though eminently gifted mind; the laughing in his face, and winking at the bye-standers, worthy of a Mohock,-plainly to be discerned in the insulting introduction, couple infamously with the abusive article in No. 7 of this Magazine, and add consummate treachery as the last aggravation of an outrage,

which is as unmanly as it is gross. Its perpetrator deprives himself of all pretension to the character of a gentleman, or rather, we should say, shows himself to be "a fellow by the hand of nature marked, quoted, and signed, to do a deed of shame." Personal communication with such a man is deadly: one would suspect his palm to be poisoned, if he extended his hand in apparent friendship. If there be one point of honour more settled and recognized than another in society, it is the sanctity of a private letter:-the individual who receives it has even a less right to make it public without the, permission of its writer, than the individual who might happen to find it, were it accidentally lost. Innumerable are the dissensions, the disgusts, the irreparable mischiefs that would desolate private life if this rule were once questioned. In this very letter of Mr. Coleridge we can see a cause of alienation and pain, which ought, at least, to give great regret to its over-confiding writer, now it is in print, and which we have no doubt has done so. We can take upon ourselves to state that he disclaims having ever authorised or contemplated its publication; and that he considers such publication as a most unfair advantage taken of him. The forgery of a signature, as a hoax, even when malevolently and treacherously done, is not so absolutely irreconcileable with the existence of some degree of honour and honesty, as this infidelity in regard to private correspondence. We could be much more easily brought to overlook the former than the latter.

Not, however, that such forgeries are to be lightly regarded. As jokes they are miserably easy, and unmeaning; while they are calculated to give the greatest pain to the abused individuals, and even to inflict serious injury on their interests. Blackwood's Magazine stands alone in taking this unwarrantable liberty with private respectability. A cunning sordidness is the motive, when it is not black malignity. The appearance of a real name in print sets scandalous curiosity agog, and produces an interest of a coarse and vulgar, but very general nature; an interest altogether independent of literary ability, or any of those qualities of sentiment and style, that render a written composi

tion valuable, but which are not always within the reach of authors, or the comprehension of readers. Nothing can be more ruinous to the literary taste of a people than the feeding of this natural appetite for impertinent and indecent interference. The example being once set amongst the competitors for popular encouragement, the offenders are seen to profit by their crime, and thus they tempt the better disposed to follow their bad example. All seriousness of principle is out of the question when the flippancies of personal allusion become fashionable. Insensibility, insincerity, and spite, are necessarily engendered by them; and when the poisonous stimulus exercises its full strength, treachery and malignity darken the aspect, and corrupt the influence of what may be termed the literary pleasures of general society. The infamous distinction of industriously and selfishly pandering to these unlawful desires, and systematically contriving seductions addressed to them, belongs to Blackwood's Magazine. Its present management set out with offering gross captivations to the coarsest appetites in this way;-and Iscariot treachery, and Iago malice, took for auxiliaries the levity and folly of a tea-table gossip, and the saucy freedoms of an intermeddling buffoon. England, Ireland, and Scotland, have been traversed to introduce the names of towns, and of individuals residing in them, in order to gratify the stupid or the ill-natured craving for localities and personalities. Directed by the vulgarity of their own minds, the principal writers in this infamous publication have calculated on names as the surest means of getting off their numbers. It is not necessary for this purpose to put any real meaning into the allusion: the relations, friends, and acquaintance of the party named, find interest enough in the simple notice. Mr. Peterkin hears that Mr. Crawfurd is in Blackwood, and he needs no other inducement to order the work.

The mere impertinence and frivolity of this system are enough to render it odiously contemptible: but it also involves serious fraud and mortal malice, entitling it to hatred and indignation. Of the truth of this the treatment which JAMES HOGG, the EtVOL. II.

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trick shepherd, as he used to be called, has received from the Edinburgh Mohocks, is a flagrant proof. This person is a true national poet; and he is also a universal poet. His' poetry is peculiarly distinguished by an elegance and delicacy of sentiment and language, which "glints forth,” above the disheartening and depressing circumstances of his original condition, as beautifully and gracefully as the "mountain daisy," so exquisitely addressed by his great predecessor in Scotch song. His "Abbot M'Kinnon;" his "Bonnie Kilmeny;" his "Dedicatory Address to the Lady Anne Scott of Buccleugh, we have already referred to,-more than once we believe,-and we can never tire of referring to them as delightful examples of the pearly lustre native to genius, independent altogether of the polishing effect of external circumstances-or, rather, existing, deeply and internally, in despight of the coarseness of that with which it most immediately comes in contact, and the obscurity of the situation where, by the will of Providence, it has been thrown. But there is a curious peculiarity in the literary character of James Hogg, which, while it is very interesting in itself, and by no means of unpleasant effect, when philosophically regarded, will be considered as increasing his claim on gentle and judicious treatment, in the estimation of all generous minds, while it dictates what course of conduct should be pursued towards him by those who profess admiration of his talents, and regard for his person. Mr. Hogg, when in attendance on his Muse, seems to catch nobility of soul from his communication with her: the brightness of her glance seems to carry the kindling, purifying, and illustrating influence of Apollo throughout his whole internal man; - he "walks in glory and in pride upon the mountain-side," and his demeanour then would not disgrace the Sidneys, the Raleighs, the Spensers, gentlemen and poets of a gentlemanly and poetical age, when "high thoughts were seated in hearts of courtesy."-But, as a prose writer, Mr. Hogg falls, with rather a markable abruptness, into the traces of what may be supposed the neces3 E

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sary habits of his daily life. He
writes amusingly, and eloquently;
but seldom elegantly, and very
often coarsely. We
are not ob-
jecting this to him as a great fault
and we should be very indifferent
about it, were it not for the unwor-
thy use to which those qualities of
his disposition, which may be divined
from this peculiarity in his literary
character, have been lately turned in
the brutal hands of Blackwood's Mo-
hocks. Of the easy disposition-and,
it is said, of the dependent circumstan-
ces of this man of genius, possessing
such peculiar claims to delicate treat-
ment, they have availed themselves
to render him the regular fool-capped,
bell-coated Zany of their Magazine!-
Be it remembered, that we only speak

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of their representation of him: Hogg himself remains the poetical shepherd, the pastoral enthusiast, a living link, such as no country but Scotland possesses, between the present and the past:-while he lives, the great and final gulph of division is not yet interposed between the simplicity and elevated imagination of an innocent, religious, and patriarchal people, and the artifice and pretention of what is called refined civilization.* But in Blackwood's Magazine, we repeat, he is made to figure as an absolute Zany: he is made the Fool of the Show-cart: that is to say, he is abused, belied, disfigured,

and all under the guise of friendship and affection! Burlesque sonnets, to puff the Magazine, are falsely fa

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The statement that Mr. Hogg is himself the author of some of the songs given as Jacobite Relics, is, of course, not genuine as his own avowal, in Blackwood; but we have good reason to believe it is quite true in point of fact. It is curious that we should meet with truth in this quarter, but, finding it, let it be acknowledged.-This imposition on the public,-if that be not a term altogether inapplicable to so innocent a deception, -will readily be excused for the sake of the proof it affords of the genius of the writer. Such fabrications as this of Mr. Hogg's, are of a very different nature from those we have the unpleasant task of commenting upon in this article; and the circumstance itself, just noticed, suggests a peculiarity in the poetry of Scotland, and an interesting feature in the literary character of her poets,-which we would fain comment upon here, lengthening out this note, in preference to going on with the disgusting matter to which our text must be devoted. But, after this Number, we hope to be able, as Mr. Drama says, in his motto,-Milton having said it before him, to twitch our blue mantles (which are at present very fashionable, made of fine cloth, and which are certainly convenient in a tilbury) and seek fresh fields and new pastures:-What would we not give to have even now leave of absence from "Stern Duty," to wander amongst the green shaws" and "burnie banks," with the two poets of Ettrick and of Nithsdale ! We should much prefer this to returning to dirty Prince's-street.-But as return to it, and directly, we must an Editor, like a sentry being obliged to stand to his postwe shall content ourselves, for the present, with merely indicating what we mean in our foregoing remark on Scotch poetry. It is strictly national, and strictly spontaneous, which cannot be said of English poetry, whatever other merits it may have. The consequence is, that it connects itself with the history and habits of the people; and, occupying its own place amongst the national possessions, illustrates what is peculiar to the country, forming a recording document, as it were, full of meaning and information. It hap pens, too, that the nature of the local inspiration is such as to make the poetic power paramount in the mind above all the influence of learning, society, condition,-which have such potent effects elsewhere. Difference of rank in the world, even inequality of instruction, produce little or no sensible difference in the productions of the Scotch bards: the strain is as highly raised, as well as kept up with equal melody, in the compositions of the ploughman, the shepherd, the stone-mason, as in those of the clerk of sessions. A ballad by Cunningham is as glowing with chivalrous fire, is as distinguished by elegant fancy, shows as great a familiarity with lofty thoughts, as one by Sir Walter Scott; and Campbell, who has studied at a University, is not more polite in his verses than James Hogg, the mountain peasant. The reason of this is, that their imaginations are occupied with the past, and its images of grandeur: their attention is fixed on these from their youth,-when they form their ambition, to their age, when they become their solace. Their feelings are of their native land,—of its wonders, of its sufferings, of its victories, of its faith. These exalt wherever they enter, and annul the distinctions made under less powerful influences. This circumstance too accounts for the facility with which they can imitate the older ballads of their country: their minds are full of the thoughts and imagery of these: their poetical character is made up of them their love is in them. Some day we shall have more to say of this.

thered upon Hogg: in short, on all occasions, when a grotesque effigy is wanted, to be stuck-up for the purposes of ridicule or intimidation, the name of James Hogg is given to the uncouth figure. In "Peter's Letters," (Morris's Production,) his face was engraved so as to raise a laugh at his expense advantage was taken of an extravagant sketch, made at a moment of private hilarity, to exhibit this national bard, the author of the Queen's Wake,"—in a pot-house attitude, and with a pothouse expression,-to the sneering laughter of all the scoffers of England and Wales,-who may have a keen relish for the personalities of the Doctor, but who can neither understand the language, nor sympathise with the feeling of Hogg's beautiful poetry. We must confess that when we first observed this hideous insult, it turned our souls sick within us; we found it impossible to preserve the idea of the poet any longer surrounded in our minds with the associations worthy of his genius, and suggested by his works. He instantly sunk in our fancy, "ten thousand fathom deep!" and "to this hour down had been falling," had we not recently learnt that poor Hogg is no party to his own dishonour that his exposure in these indecent postures and capacities has not been with his own consent,—but is an act of deliberate cruelty and unmanly violence. A public Journal of Edinburgh, we observe, has stated, that Mr. Hogg considers himself to lie under great personal obligations to Sir Walter Scott, and that it is this idea which has alone hindered him from protesting against the liberties taken with him in Blackwood's Magazine. We know nothing of the facts here: if the statement be incorrect, it much behoves one eminent individual to have it satisfactorily contradicted: but we warn beforehand, that it will not be an avowal extracted from the known good-nature, and, we may say, culpable simplicity of the Ettrick shepherd,-who has submitted so easily to outrages that could not but have given him much pain, that it seems very possible he may be persuaded to disown his own best feelings;-it is not, we say, a mere indulgent declaration from this abused individual, that can obliterate the dis

grace which attaches to those of his professed and powerful friends, who have seen him thus degraded,―could have rescued him, yet did not..

All, however, of unmanly injury that we have as yet stated to have been inflicted on James Hogg, by the Mohocks, or rather, we should say, we believe, by the Emperor of the Mohocks,-is as nothing to what we have yet to state. The "Jacobite Relics," is a collection of songs on exploded politics, highly interesting as national monuments, and worthy of preservation, which was lately published by the Author of the "Queen's Wake." The Edinburgh Review has criticised this collection in rather severe terms: not certainly in the Mohock style; and not in the style which Mr. Hogg would merit to have applied to his deficiencies, were he weak and malignant enough to write that to which his name has been attached in Blackwood's Magazine:-but the review certainly was not so favourable as we could have wished it to have been; and while we acquit the reviewer of gettingup a criticism to gratify a feeling of personal dislike-yet, knowing how sharp-sighted people become to the literary offences of individuals whose conduct they have observed with resentment or disgust,-we think it very likely that the falsehoods of Blackwood's men, representing Mr. Hogg as an active co-adjutor in their infamous publication, may have materially assisted to bring down upon him the asperity of a work, whose favourable opinion is generally equivalent to the sale of one edition, at least, of a book. Here, then, we find exemplified, some of the probable consequences to personal interests of these forgeries and fabrications. But what has since happened is, as Doctor Morris says, very characteristic,"- -so characteristic, in fact, as to strip off even the last wretched rag, the frailest and scantiest remnant of character, if any yet remains to Blackwood's men, in the opinion of the reader of this article. "A letter from James Hogg to his Reviewer,' appears in the last Number of Blackwood; followed by what is called a private letter to the Editor, enclosing the first: the signature, and abode of Mr. Hogg, are attached to both,and BOTH ARE FORGERIES: neither

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the one nor the other has been written by the person to whom they are attributed, though they have been coolly signed "James Hogg, and dated from "Altrive Lake!

What is the principal and prominent object of these forgeries? To vindicate_Hogg's reputation as an Editor? To shake off the misrepresentations of his reviewer? No-far from it: a show of doing so is indeed made in the latter half of one of these papers, but the first part of this, and the whole of the other, is zealous·ly devoted to an insidious and cowardly endeavour, to inculpate the Poet in the guilt and filth of all the most odious articles that have appeared in Blackwood's Magazine, since the commencement of its course of abomination! Now we ask, whether, with reference to the personal character and public situation of Mr. Hogg, it is possible to imagine any thing more truly base than this treatment of him? Can it enter into the heart of man to conceive an example of more sordid, cruel, unprincipled mischief than this? The object of the atrocious writer is to gratify his own spites, jealousies, and hatreds, and to create a defence against the obloquy he has incurred, at the expense of the reputation, and pocket, of a poor man of genius, whose disposition and temper have no fault but that of being too easy and careless. The letter to the Reviewer goes studiously through almost the whole long range of private calumny which blackens the series of the Mohock Magazine; and wherever there is a darker and more offensive spot than ordinary, whereever public reproach has affixed a deep ineffaceable stain, there is the author of the Queen's Wake made to stop and steep himself in the infamy of approbation; to wallow in the mire and stench with the appearance of delight! He is made to enlarge upon the sympathy he cherishes with the assassin's blow, the mercenary outrage. And this is done, in his name, by the very assassin himself! Commentary here is out of the question:-let us break the paragraph, that the reader may draw his breath again.

None of the acts of indecent and unfair violence committed by the Scotch Mohocks, has excited so general an expression and sentiment of

disgust, as that perpetrated on the venerable old age of that first-rate man of science Professor Playfair. It was universally felt to be made as hypocritically as cruelly; it was sa.vage, insidious, reptile-like. It assailed the feelings of the esteemed object of the attack, unnecessarily and unprovokedly ;-it afforded to the world the disgusting spectacle of honesty beaten down by hypocrisy; of profligacy using the language of religion to turn popular clamour against respectability and integrity. About the time this vile paper appeared, Hogg was himself ridiculed without disguise by the writers in Blackwood; yet he is now represented, by his unfeeling persecutor, as not only strongly approving of the aggression on Playfair, but as actively belonging to the Mohock gang at this period-in close companionship with persons who were then, avow edly, rendering him ridiculous! This is an endeavour then to expose him at once to our dislike and contempt; and common humanity is concerned in circumventing the base design.

The Editor of the Supplement to the Encyclopedia Britannica, a writer of very considerable reputation, is maltreated in Blackwood in the grossest manner of common street-blackguardism. Nothing like criticism is ever attempted to be brought against him: we never hear of argument against either his principles, his opi nions, or his abilities ;-but his name is tossed backwards and forwards in its pages in a disagreeable way,-and every means of annoyance is tried against him, which men, destitute both of character and a sense of shame, can bring to bear against one who is possessed of both. The name of Hogg is attached to this low species of abuse also: he is made to participate in it; to fling a vulgar insult in Mr. Napier's face, in a way, which, were he really guilty of the outrage, would render him a proper object for chastisement wherever he appeared, and lead to a sentiment of hostility towards him, which it is abundantly his interest to avert, and which his disposition, as we have heard it described, is not at all of a nature to merit.

As to "Mr. Macculloch of the Scotsman," newspaper,-he, like ourselves, is one of the Mohock's adver

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