triumph by giving way to my feelings in the presence of Mr. Paul
Pattison, who, I could not doubt, must be more or less directly at the
bottom of the Transatlantic publication, and had in one way or another
found his own interest in that nefarious transaction.

To get quit of his odious presence I bid him an unceremonious good-
night, and marched down the glen with the air not of one who has parted
with a friend, but who rather has shaken off an intrusive companion. On
the road I pondered the whole matter over with an anxiety which did not
in the smallest degree tend to relieve me. Had I felt adequate to the
exertion, I might, of course, have supplanted this spurious edition (of
which the literary gazettes are already doling out copious specimens)
by introducing into a copy, to be instantly published at Edinburgh,
adequate correction of the various inconsistencies and imperfections
which have already been alluded to. I remember the easy victory of the
real second part of these "Tales of my Landlord" over the performance
sent forth by an interloper under the same title; and why should not
the same triumph be repeated now? There would, in short, have been a
pride of talent in this manner of avenging myself, which would have
been justifiable in the case of an injured man; but the state of my
health has for some time been such as to render any attempt of this
nature in every way imprudent.

Under such circumstances, the last "Remains" of Peter Pattison must
even be accepted, as they were left in his desk; and I humbly retire in
the hope that, such as they are, they may receive the indulgence of
those who have ever been but too merciful to the productions of his pen,
and in all respects to the courteous reader's obliged servant, J. C.

GANDERCLEUCH, _15th Oct._ 1831.