"Had Leigh Hunt, the papa, boldly advanced on any great emergency, at the peril of his life and crown, to snatch the legitimate issue of his own loins from the shrivelled hands of some blear-eyed old beldam, into whose small cabbage-garden Maximilian had headed a forlorn hope, good and well, and beautiful; but not so, when a stalwart and cankered carl like Mr. Gifford, with his quarter-staff, belabours the shoulders of his Majesty, and sire shoves son between himself and the Pounder ... such pusillanimity involves forfeiture of the Crown, and from this hour we declare Leigh dethroned, and the boy-bard of _Ultra-Crepidarius_ King of Cockaigne." Wearying of this make-believe, the reviewer discards such a possibility of authorship and considers Hunt's grandfather, a legendary personage whose age is put at ninety-six and who is given the name of Zachariah Hunt: "What a gross, vulgar, leering old dog it is! Was ever the couch of the celestials so profaned before! One thinks of some aged cur, with mangy back, glazed eye-balls dropping rheum, and with most disconsolate muzzard muzzling among the fleas of his abominable loins, by some accident lying upon the bed where Love and Beauty are embracing and embraced." As a final potentiality the reviewer deliberates whether Hunt by any possibility could have been the author and closes with this peroration: "There he goes soaking, and swaling, and straddling up the sky, like Daniel O'Rouke on goose back!... Toes in if you please. The goose is galloping--why don't you stand in the stirrups?... Alas Pegasus smells his native marshes; instead of making for Olympus, he is off in a wallop to the fens of Lincolnshire! Bellerophon has lost his seat--now he clings desperately by the tail--a single feather holds him from eternity." Article VIII of the regular series, reviewing Hunt's _Bacchus in Tuscany_, appeared in _Blackwood's_ of August, 1825. His allegiance to Apollo in Cockaigne is declared to have been changed to Bacchus in Tuscany, and his usual beverage of weak tea to a diet of wine on which he swills like a hippopotamus. He is depicted as Jupiter Tonans and his manner to Hebe is compared with a "natty Bagman to the barmaid of the Hen and Chickens." The same number noticed Sotheby's translation of Homer. The opportunity was not lost to refer unfavorably to Hunt's translations of the same in _Foliage_. _The Rebellion of the Beasts_; or _The Ass is Dead! Long Live the Ass!!! By a Late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge_, with the motto "A man hath pre-eminence above a beast," was published anonymously by J. & H. L. Hunt in London in 1825. There is every reason to believe that it was by Hunt, although he does not mention it elsewhere. It is an exceedingly clever satire on monarchy and far surpasses anything else of the kind that he ever did. Had the Tories of Edinburgh suspected the author it would probably have made them apoplectic with rage.