is well described; and here he has contrived to enliven his poem with a little of that passion which bids fair, I think, to usurp the modern muses altogether. I know not how far this episode is a beauty on the whole, but the swain's wish to carry "some faint idea of the vision bright," to entertain her "partial listening ear," is a pretty thought. But, in my opinion, the most beautiful passages in the whole poem are the fowls crowding, in wintry frosts, to Lochlomond's "hospitable flood;" their wheeling round; their lighting, mixing, diving, etc.; and the glorious description of the sportsman. This last is equal to anything in the "Seasons." The idea of "the floating tribes distant seen, far glistering to the moon," provoking his eye as he is obliged to leave them, is a noble ray of poetic genius. The "howling winds," the "hideous roar" of "the white cascades," are all in the same style. I forget that while I am thus holding forth, with the heedless warmth of an enthusiast, I am perhaps tiring you with nonsense. I must, however, mention that the last verse of the sixteenth page is one of the most elegant compliments I have ever seen. I must likewise notice that beautiful paragraph beginning "The gleaming lake," etc. I dare not go into the particular beauties of the last two paragraphs, but they are admirably fine, and truly Ossianic. I must beg your pardon for this lengthened scrawl. I had no idea of it when I began--I should like to know who the author is; but, whoever he be, please present him with my grateful thanks for the entertainment he has afforded me.[90] A friend of mine desired me to commission for him two books, _Letters on the Religion essential to Man_, a book you sent me before; and _The World Unmasked, or the Philosopher the greatest Cheat_. Send me them by the first opportunity. The Bible you sent me is truly elegant; I only wish it had been in two volumes. R. B. [Footnote 90: The poem, entitled "An Address to Lochlomond," is said to have been written by one of the masters of the High School of Edinburgh.] * * * * * CVIIL--To THE EDITOR OF THE "STAR". _November_ 8_th_, 1788. Sir,--Notwithstanding the opprobrious epithets with which some of our philosophers and gloomy sectarians have branded our nature--the principle of universal selfishness, the proneness to all evil, they have given us--still, the detestation in which inhumanity to the distressed, or insolence to the fallen, are held by all mankind, shows that they are not natives of the human heart. Even the unhappy partner of our kind who is undone, the bitter consequence of his follies or his crimes--who but sympathises with the miseries of this ruined profligate brother? We forget the injuries, and feel for the man.