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s of reputation. In 1842 he returned to Scotland, to edit _The Western Watchman_, a weekly journal published at Ayr. In 1844 he became connected with the _Witness_ newspaper; but in the following year removed to Glasgow, to assist in the establishment of the first Scottish daily newspaper. With that journal, the _Daily Mail_, he continued two years, till severe nocturnal labour much affecting his health, obliged him temporarily to abandon literary pursuits. He has been a contributor to _Tait's Magazine_, and was intrusted with the literary superintendence of Major De Renzy's "Poetical Illustrations and Achievements of the Duke of Wellington," a work to which he contributed several poems. He has edited Lord Byron's works, in two octavo volumes, with numerous notes, and a copious Memoir of the poet. Besides a number of smaller works, he is the editor of five volumes, forming a series, entitled, "Treasury of Discovery, Enterprise, and Adventure;" "Treasury of the Animal World;" "Treasury of Ceremonies, Manners, and Customs;" "Treasury of Nature, Science, and Art;" and "Treasury of History and Biography." "The Young Voyager," a poem descriptive of the search after Franklin, with illustrations, intended for children, appeared in 1855. He contributed the greater number of the biographical notices of Scotsmen inserted in "The Men of the Time" for 1856. A large and important national work, devoted to the biography, history, and antiquities of Scotland, has engaged his attention for some years, and is in a forward state for publication. As a writer of verses, Mr Anderson is possessed of considerable power of fancy, and a correct taste. His song, beginning "I'm naebody noo," has been translated into the German language. WOODLAND SONG. Will you go to the woodlands with me, with me, Will you go to the woodlands with me-- When the sun 's on the hill, and all nature is still, Save the sound of the far dashing sea? For I love to lie lone on the hill, on the hill, I love to lie lone on the hill, When earth, sea, and sky, in loveliness vie, And all nature around me is still. Then my fancy is ever awake, awake, My fancy is never asleep; Like a bird on the wing, like a swan on the lake, Like a ship far away on the deep. And I love 'neath the green boughs to lie, to lie; I love 'neath the green boughs to lie; And see far above, like the smilin
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