Does "Wurm," in modern German, ever mean Serpent? (Vol. viii pp. 465. 624.).—F. W. J. is quite right as regards his interpretation of the word Wurm, used by Schiller in his Wallenstein in the passage spoken by Butler.

Wurm is not used in German to mean a serpent. Serpents (Schlangen) are vertebrata, and are therefore not confounded with Würmer by the Germans. The language of the people frames proverbs, not the language of science. The Germans apply the word Wurm to express pity or contempt. The mother says to her sick child, "Armes Würmchen!" signifying poor, suffering, little creature. Man to man, in order to express contempt, will say "Elender Wurm!" meaning miserable wretch; an application arising out of the contemplation of the helpless state and inferior construction of this division of the animal kingdom. The German proverb corresponds to the English.

C. B. d'O.

Longfellow's Reaper and the Flowers (Vol. viii., p. 583.).—This charge of plagiarism, I think, is not a substantial one. To compare Death to a reaper, and children to flowers, is a very general idea, and may be thought by thousands, and

expressed in nearly the same words which Longfellow, and before him Luisa Reichardt, have used. The first line of the two respective poems are certainly word for word the same, but that is all; although the tendency of both poems is the same. Longfellow's poem is much superior to that of L. Reichardt; for, while the former has a beautiful clothing, colouring, and harmony, the latter is very crude, poor, and defective. Longfellow's long residence in Germany has indeed rendered him very susceptible to the form and spirit of German poetry, and hence there exist in his poems frequently affinities as to general forms and ideas: still, affinities arising from such causes cannot justly be termed plagiarism, much less the accidental choice of a very widely existent, natural thought. When Byron wrote his opening line to The Bride of Abydos, he did not probably think of Göthe's

"Könnst du das Land wo die Citronen blühen?"

Byron was not a German scholar; and as the opening line is the only analogy between the two poems, we may justly believe it natural for any one who has lived in southern lands, to ask such a question. The charge of plagiarism, I think, ought to rest upon grounds which evince an actual copying.

C. B. d'O.

Charge of Plagiarism against Paley (Vol. viii., p. 589.).—As a personal friend of the gentleman who, under the name of Veritas, brought, about five years ago, a charge of plagiarism against Paley, I feel called upon to say few words to Fiat Just.

Truth cannot be refuted, and F. J. may look at the translation of the old Dutch book of Nieuwentyt's, which he will find in the British Museum library, the same place where Veritas made the discovery while examining the works of some continental metaphysicians: and Fiat Just. will then no doubt regret having made the rash and illogical observation, "that the accusation be refuted, or the culprit consigned to that contempt," &c. The character of Veritas as man, moralist, and scholar, does not deserve so unjust and rash a remark.