"'LOVE LETTERS OF A VIOLINIST.'--Letters to make the ordinary writer envious, and to awaken in lovers thanks to the poetical pen that has given forth utterances so suited to their good health or malady. Here a verse to cheer the almost hopeless; a stanza to teach the refraining a lesson in charge and capture; lines to fall in love with the memory, to charm the darkness, and be another light to rule the day. London was yawning behind her giant hand. The moment was propitious, and any strain of beauty was sure of an audience. At this felicitous moment a pipe of splendour sounded. London ceased to yawn. A violinist was communicating the passions of his heart to those who would listen, and amid great interest he went from house to house a-singing.... Eric Mackay is one of those wise men who have no immature volumes to haunt them. He first asked right of way on the road to Parnassus with a bundle of melodies which have never lost their appeal. While youth seeks the pink cheek, these Love Letters will command the homage of lovers. Your Petrarchs are not as common as sparrows.... These outpourings from a burning heart will always compel the student of our literature to weigh them, sift them, and establish them in some very honourable position. The charm of this early book is its freedom from drag. It moves on always. The reader is hastened along; he has wonderful and unexpected views, which ravish him as the abrupt magnificences of the Pyrenees ravished Gautier. Perhaps you expect a tree, but you see a stream. Now, at last, it must be a great green hill, and behold! you peep down into an echoless mossy depth of glen. At the next break in the quick, up towers a height of fancy and simile! Thus the everlasting surprise goes on enchanting. From wild to wild, from passion to passion, from cavern to star, are we borne, and as we travel there is music about us--music of the true tone, ringing with all the natural pathos of lyrical carelessness. There have been instances in literature of the music mastering the thought, but in the case under notice the proportions are justly ministered to. There is thought and witchery of measure. The ice of craftsmanship is mingled with the wine of passion."--NORMAN GALE, in _The Literary World_, March 10th, 1893. * * * * *