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TRAVELS 
fame there, for ought that I could learn, far inferior to what is 
due, and will no doubt one day be paid to his merit. His poem 
on the death of Thomfon may be confidered as the moft elegant 
piece of criticifm, and the moft feeling and tender elegy that was 
ever written by one poet on another. Collins, far fuperior to that 
jealoufy and envy which tarnifhes the minds of minor poets among 
his countrymen, and from which even Pope, that elegant verfifier, 
is by no means exempt, felt what he w r rote, and fhew r ed himfelf 
at once a good and great man, and a pathetic and fublime poet. 
But I ftray from Scandinavia, to which I return. Mr. Torild is 
not more diftinguifhed by his poetical compofitions than by his 
enthuiiaftic admiration of Offian. All kinds of poetry not in 
the ftyle of Offian he utterly defpifes. It is needlefs after this ob¬ 
servation to mention that his own poems are very much written 
in that ftyle. There is nothing more natural than for a Scandi¬ 
navian to have a prediledlion and partiality for Offian: the va¬ 
lour, the virtues, and the extenfive power and dominion of their 
princes being celebrated in the fongs of that poet. 
CHAPTER 
