ill take
_Blackwood_ and _The Quarterly_, you can have _The Edinburgh_ and _The
Westminster_ almost thrown into the bargain; like the lying little
_Mercury_ of AEsop's statuary, which was a mere gratuity to those who
would buy a _Phoebus_, and _Pallas-Athene_. In truth, if my observation
has been correct, intelligent Americans like to be republicans
themselves, because such were the fathers of their country; but an
Englishman in blue and yellow, they regard much as they do an Indian in
shoes and stockings. He is despised, as no specimen of the noble race
from which he has degenerated and dwindled into a Whig.

To return to the republished Magazine; it is not only a republication,
but, as I have said, it professes to be a fac-simile. You will ask, if
it is cleverly done. I must answer--not very, considered as a whole; and
yet, to give the mannikin its due, the face of the thing is about as
accurate as counterfeits usually are. The colour is not often right,
however, and I suspect Reprint & Co. are ignorant that the colour is of
any consequence. The thistle-framed portrait, nevertheless, is tolerably
well copied; enough so, to deserve the greatest proportion of credit
belonging to the whole, as an imitation. You look for the familiar
imprint in vain. One would never know from the publisher's part of the
title-page that the house of Blackwood & Sons was still in existence.
Instead of the usual mark, we have that of the republishers, with an
intimation that they are assisted in the sale by booksellers in Boston,
Philadelphia, Charlestown, Baltimore, Savannah, New Orleans, and PARIS!
Why they should print Paris in capitals, rather than Boston and
Philadelphia, I am at a loss to conceive; but such an announcement does
indeed demand some note of admiration at the vastness of the enterprise
of REPRINT & Co., who, to give Mr Blackwood more time to attend to the
getting up of each successive number of his work, thus undertake to
relieve him of any share in seeing to the supply of the Continent of
Europe. In this benevolent effort to take the burthen from the
proprietors of the genuine Ebony, it is fair that the French coadjutor
should have his share of the honour. His name is given as HECTOR
BOSSANGE; and his shop, if I rightly remember, adorns the Quai Voltaire.
And, now I think of it, I advise you, dear Godfrey, to skip across the
Channel this summer, and alight on the capital, (where very likely they
will just be getting up an