in many
desperate encounters between Russia and Sweden. Young Stoddart was
educated at a Moravian establishment at Fairfield, near Manchester, and
subsequently passed through a course of philosophy and law in the
University of Edinburgh. Early devoted to verse-making, he composed a
tragedy in his ninth year; and at the age of sixteen was the successful
competitor in Professor Wilson's class, for a poem on "Idolatry." He was
an early contributor to the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_.

Mr Stoddart studied for the Bar, and passed advocate in 1833. Finding
the legal profession uncongenial, he soon relinquished it; and entering
upon the married state in 1836, he has since resided at Kelso. For many
years he has divided his time between the pursuits of literature, and
the recreation of angling. In 1831, he published "The Deathwake, or
Lunacy, a Poem;" in 1834, "The Art of Angling;" in 1836, "Angling
Reminiscences;" in 1839, "Songs and Poems;" and in 1844, "Abel
Massinger; or the Aeronaut, a Romance." The second of these
publications has been remodelled, and under the title of "The Angler's
Companion," has exhausted several impressions, and continues in general
favour. The volume of "Songs" having been sold out, a new edition, along
with a tragedy, entitled "The Crown Jewel," and "The Aeronaut," both
still in MS., may be expected. Living at Kelso, Mr Stoddart has every
opportunity of prosecuting his favourite pastime in the Tweed, and
enjoying scenery calculated to foster the poetic temperament.

ANGLING SONG.

Bring the rod, the line, the reel!
Bring, oh, bring the osier creel!
Bring me flies of fifty kinds,
Bring me showers, and clouds, and winds,
All things right and tight,
All things well and proper,
Trailer red and bright,
Dark and wily dropper;
Casts of midges bring,
Made of plover hackle,
With a gaudy wing,
And a cobweb tackle.

Lead me where the river flows,
Shew me where the alder grows,
Reel and rushes, moss and mead,
To them lead me--quickly lead,
Where the roving trout
Watches round an eddy,
With his eager snout
Pointed up and ready,
Till a careless fly,
On the surface wheeling,
Tempts him, rising sly
From his safe concealing.

There, as with a pleasant friend,
I the happy hours will spend,
Urging on the s