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And hence is haunted with a rhyming rage But him, unhappy! whom he setzes,-him
Fear'd like a bear just bursting from his cage. He flays with recitation limb by limb;
If free, all fly his versifying fit,

Probes to the quick where'er he makes his breach. Fatal at once to simpleton or wit :

And gorges like a lawyer or a leech.

Objectos caveæ valuit si frangere clathros,
Indoctum doctumque fugat recitator acerbus.

Quem vero arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo,
Non missura cutem, nisi plena cruoris, hirudo.

Difficile est proprie communia dicere.”—Mde. Dacier, Mde. de Sevigne, some thirty pages, I omit, particularly as M. Grouvelle observes, “La chose Boileau, and others, have left their dispute on the meauing of this passage in est bien remarquable, aucune de ces diverses interpretations ne parait être la a tract considerably longer than the poem of Horace. It is printed at the veritable.” But, by way of comfort, it seems, fifty years afterwards, "le close of the eleventh volume of Madame de Sevigné's Letters, edited by lumineux Dumarsais " made his appearance to set Horace on his legs again, Gruuvelle, Paris, 1806. Presuming that all who can construe may venture an " dissa per tous les nuages, et concilier tous les dissentimens ; " and, soine opinion on such subjects, particularly as so many who can not have taken the fifty years hence, somebodly, still more luminous, will doubtless start up anct same liberty, I should have held my “farthing candle" as awkwardly as demolish Dumarsais and his system on this weiglity affair, as if he were no another, had not my respect for the wits of Louis the Fourteenth's Augustan better than Ptolemy or Tycho, or comments of no more consequence than siècle induced me to subjoin these illustrious authorities. Ist, Boileau : “1 astronomical calculations on the present comet. I am lappy to say, “la est difficile de traiter des sujets qui sont à la portée de tout le monde d'une longueur de la dissertation" of M. D. prevents M. G. from saying any more manière qui vous les rende propes, ce qui s'apelle s'approprier un s!jet par le on the matter. A better poet than Boileau, and at least as good a as lour qu'on y donne.” 2dly, Batteux : “ Mais il est bier. difficile de donner Sevigné, has said, des traits propres et individuels aux êties purement possibles." 3dly, Dacier:

“A little learning is a dangerous thing," “ Il est difficile de traiter convenablement ces caractères que tout le monde and by this comparison of comments it may be perceived how a good den pous inventer." Mde. de Sevigné's opinion and wranslation, consisting of may be rendered as perilous to the proprietors.


" Pallas te hoc vulnere, Pallas Immolat, et pænam scelerato ex sanguine sumit."

AENEID, lib. zii.

Athens, Capuchin Convent, March 17, 1811. (How watch'd thy better sons his farewell ray, *Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, That closed their murder'd sage's* latest day! Along Morea's hills the setting sun;

Not yet--not yet-Sol pauses on the hill, Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, The precious hour of parting lingers still; But one unclouded blaze of living light;

But sad his light to agonizing eyes, 'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws, And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes Gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows; Gloom o'er the lovely land he seem'd to pour," On old Ægina's rock and Hydra's isle

The land where Phæbus never frown'd before;
The god of gladness sheds his parting smile; But ere he sunk below Cithæron's head,
O’er his own regions lingering loves to shine, The cup of wo was quaff'd—the spirit fled;
Though there his altars are no more divine.

The soul of him that scorned to fear or fly,
Descending fast, the monntain-shadows kiss Who lived and died as none can live or die.
Thy glorious gulf, unconquer'd Salamis !
Their azure arches through the long expanse,

But, lo! from high Hymettus to the plain
More deeply purpled, meet his mellowing glance,

The queen of night asserts her silent reign; + And tenderest tints, along their summits driven, Mark his gay course, and own the hues of heaven;

No murky vapor, herald of the storm,

Hides her fair face, or girds her glowing form. Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,

With cornice glimmering as the moonbeams play, Behind his Delphian rock he sinks to sleep.

There the white column greets her grateful ray, On such an eve his palest beam he cast When, Athens! here thy wisest looked his last. • Socrates drank the hemlock a short time before sunset, ('the hour of exo

cution,) notwithstanding the entreaties of his disciples to wait till the sun weni

down. * 'The lines with which this satire opens, to " As thus, within the walls of Pallas' fane," are repeated, with some alterations, at the commencement of The twilight in Greece is much shorter than in our own country; the the third canto of the Corsair.

I days in winter are longer, but in summer of less duration.


And bright around, with quivering beams beset, l'Scaped from the ravage of the Turk and Goth
Her emblem sparkled o’er the minaret:

Thy country sends a spoiler worse than both.
The groves of olive scatter'd dark and wide, Survey this vacant, violated fane;
Where meek Cephisus sheds his scanty tide, Recount the relics torn that yet remain;
The cypress saddening by the sacred mosque, These Cecrops placed, this Pericles adorn'd,*
The glimmering turret of the gay kiosk,*

That Adrian rear'd when drooping Science mourn'd And sad and sombre mid the holy calm,

What more I owe let gratitude attestNear Theseus' fane, yon solitary palm ;

Know, Alaric and Elgin did the rest. All, tinged with varied hues, arrest the eye; That all may learn from whence the plunderer came And dull were his that pass'd them heedless by. The insulted wall sustains his hated name:

For Elgin's fame thus grateful Pallas pleads, Again the Ægean, heard no more afar,

Below, his name-above, behold his deeds ; Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war;

Be ever hail'd with equal honor here Again his waves in milder tints unfold

The Gothic monarch and the Pictish peer: Their long expanse of sapphire and of gold, Arms gave the first his right, the last had none, Mix'd with the shades of many a distant isle, But basely stole what less barbarians won. That frown, where gentler ocean deigns to smile. So when the lion quits his fell repast,

Next prowls the wolf, the filthy jackal last: As thus within the walls of Pallas' fane,

Flesh, limbs, and blood the former make their own I mark'd the beauties of the land and main, The last poor brute securely gnaws the bone. Alone, and friendless, on the magic shore,

Yet still the gods are just, and crimes are cross'd; Whose arts and arms but live in poets' lore: See here what Elgin won, and what he lost! Oft as the matchless dome I turn'd to scan, Another name with his pollutes my shrine: Sacred to gods, but not secure from man,

Behold where Dian's beams disdain'd to shine ! The past return'd, the present seem'd to cease, Some retribution still might Pallas claim, And Glory knew no clime beyond her Greece ! When Venus half avenged Minerva's shame.”+

Hours roll'd along, and Dian's orb on high
Had gain'd the centre of her softest sky;

She ceased awhile and thus I dared reply,
And yet unwearied still my footsteps trod

To soothe the vengeance kindling in her eye: O'er the vain shrine of many a vanish'd god : " Daughter of Jove! in Britian's injured name, But chiefly, Pallas! thine; when Hecate's glare, A true-born Briton may the deed disclaim. Check'd by thy columns, fell more sadly fair Frown not on England; England owns him not; O'er the chill marble, where the startling tread Athena! no! thy plunderer was a Scot. Thrills the lone heart like echoes from the dead. Ask'st thou the difference? From fair Phyles Long had I mused, and treasured every trace

towers The wreck of Greece recorded of her race,

Survey Bæotia ; Caledonia's ours. When, lo! a giant form before me strode,

And well I know within that bastard land I And Pallas hail'd me in her own abode !

Hath Wisdom's goddess never held command :

A barren soil, where Nature's germs confined Yes, 'twas Minerva's self; but, ah! how changed To stern sterility, can stint the mind; Since o'er the Dardan field in arms she ranged! Whose thistle well betrays the niggard earth, Not such as erst, by her divine command,

Emblem of all to whom the land gives birth; Her form appeared from Phidias' plastic hand; Each genial influence nurtured to resist; Gone were the terrors of her awful brow,

A land of meanness, sophistry, and mist. Her idle ægis bore no Gorgon now;

Each breeze from foggy mount and marshy plain Her helm was dinted, and the broken lance Dilutes with drivel every drizzly brain, Seem'd weak and shaftless e'en to mortal glance; Till, burst at length each wat'ry head o'erflows, The olive branch, which still she deign'd to clasp, Foul as their soil, and frigid as their snows. Shrunk from her touch, and wither'd in her grasp; Then thousand schemes of petulance and pride And, ah! though still the brightest of the sky, Despatch her scheming children far and wide ; Celestial tears bedimm'd her large blue eye ; Some east, some west, some every where but north Round the rent casque her owlet circled slow, In quest of lawless gain, they issue forth. And mourn'd his mistress with a shriek of wo! And thus-accursed be the day and year!

She sent a Pict to play the felon here. "Mortal!”-'twas thus she spake that blush of Yet Caledonia claims some native worth, shame

As dull Bæotia gave a Pindar birth; Proclaims thee Briton, once a noble name ; So may her few, the letter'd and the brave, First of the mighty, foremost of the free,

Bound to no clime, and victors of the grave, Now honor'd less by all, and least by me:

Shake off the sordid dust of such a land,
Chief of thy foes shall Pallas still be found.

And shine like children of a happier strand;
Seek'st thou the cause of loathing ?look around.
Lo! here, despite of war and wasting fire,
I saw successive tyrannies expire.

* This is spoken of the city in general, and not of the Acropolis in partier ular: the temple of Jupiter Olympus, by some supposed the Pantheon, wa finished by Hadrian ; sixteen columns are standing, of the most beautifu

marble anıl architecture. • The kiosk in a Turkish summer-house; the palm is without the present His lordship's name, and that of one who no longer bears it, arc carved walla of Athens, not far from the temple of 'Theseus, between which and the conspicuously on the Parthenon ; ahove, in a part not far distant, are the tora tree the wall intervenes. Cephisus' stream is indeed scanty, and Illissus has remnants of the basso relievos destroyed in a vain attempt to remove them. Do strenm at all."

I I " Irish bastards,” according to Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan.

As once, of yore, in some obnoxious place, Not to sucb deeds did Pallas lend her aid,

Far from such counsels, from the faithless field,
" Mortal!” the blue-eyed maid resumed, “once She fled—but left behind her Gorgon shield:
Bear back my mandate to thy native shore. [more A fatal gift, that turn'd your friends to stone,
Though fallen, alas ! this vengeance yet is mine, And left lost Albion hated and alone.
To turn my counsels far from lands like thine.
Hear then in silence Pallas' stern behest;

“ Look to the East, where Ganges' swarthy race Hear and believe, for time will tell the rest. Shall shake your tyrant empire to its base ;

Lo! there Rebellion rears her ghastly head,
“ First on the head of him who did this deed And glares the Nemesis of native dead;
My curse shall light, on him and all his seed: Till Indus rolls a deep purpureal flood,
Without one spark of intellectual fire,

And claims his long arrear of northern blood.
Be all the sons as senseless as the sire:

So may ye perish !-Pallas, when she gave
If one with wit the parent brood disgrace,

Your free-born rights, forbade ye to enslave.
Believe him a bastard of a brighter race:
Still with his hireling artists let him prate

“Look on your Spain !she clasps the hand sho And Folly's praise repay for Wisdom's hate ;

Long of their patron's gusto let them tell, But boldly clasps, and thrusts you from her gates
Whose noblest, native gusto is to sell :

Bear witness, bright Barossa! thou canst tell
To sell, and make-may Shamc record the day! Whose were the sons that bravely fought and fell.
The state receiver of his pilfer'd prey.

But Lusitania, kind and dear ally,
Meantime, the flattering, feeble dotard, West, Can spare a few to fight, and sometimes fly.
Europe's worst dauber, and poor Britain's best, Oh glorious field! by Famine fiercely won,
With palsied hand shall turn each model o'er, The Gaul retires for once, and all is done!
And own himself an infant of fourscore.*

But when did Pallas teach that one retreat
Be all the bruisers cull'd from all St. Giles', Retrieved three long olympiads of defeat?
That art and nature may compare their styles ;
While brawny brutes in stupid wonder stare, “ Look last at home-ye love not to look there
And marvel at his lordship's stone shop't there. On the grim smile of comfortless despair:
Round the throng'd gate shall sauntering coxcombs Your city saddens: loud though Revel howls,

Here Famine faints, and yonder Rapine prowls.
To lounge and lucubrate, to prate and peep; See all alike of more or less bereft;
While many a languid maid, with longing sigh, No misers tremble when there's nothing left.
On giant statues casts the curious eye:

* Blest paper credit,'* who shall dare to sing?
The room with transient glance appears to skim, It clogs like lead Corruption's weary wing.
Yet marks the mighty back and length of limb; Yet Pallas pluck'd each premier by the ear,
Mourns o'er the difference of now and then: Who gods and men alike disdain'd to hear;
Exclaims, .These Greeks indeed were proper men ! But one, repentant o'er a bankrupt state,
Draws sly comparisons of these and those,

On Pallas calls, but calls, alas ! too late:
And envies Lays all her Attic beaux.

Then raves for **; to that Mentor bends,
When shall a modern maid have swains like these! Though he and Pallas never yet were friends.
Alas! Sir Harry is no Hercules !

Him senates hear, whom never yet they heard,
And last of all, amidst the gaping crew,

Contemptuous once, and now no less absurd.
Some calm spectator, as he takes his view,

So once of yore, each reasonable frog
In silent indignation mix'd with grief,

Swore faith and fealty to his sovereign log.'
Admires the plunder, but abhors the thief.

Thus hail'd your rulers their patrician clod,
Oh, loathed in life, nor pardon'd in the dust, As Egypt chose an onion for a god.
May hate pursue his sacrilegious lust!
Link'd with the fool that fired the Ephesian dome, “Now fare ye well! enjoy your little hour;
Shall vengeance follow far beyond the tomb, Go, grasp the shadow of your vanish'd power ;
And Eratostratus and Elgin shine

Gloss o'er the failure of each fondest scheme;
In many a branding page and burning line; Your strength a name, your bloated wealth a dream.
Alike reserved for aye to stand accurst,

Gone is that gold, the marvel of mankind,
Perchance the second blacker than the first. And pirates barter all that's left behind.t

No more the hirelings, purchased near and far,
“So let him stand, through ages yet unborn, Crowd to the ranks of mercenary war.
Fix'd statue on the pedestal of Scorn;

The idle merchant on the useless quay,
Though not for him alone revenge shall wait, Droops o'er the bales no bark may bear away?
But fits thy country for her coming fate:

Or, back returning, sees rejected stores,
Hers were the deeds that taught her lawless son Rot piecemeal on his own encumber'd shores :
To to do what oft Britannia's self had done. The starved mechanic breaks his rusting loom,
Look to the Baltic-blazing from afar,

And desperate mans him 'gainst the common doom.
Your old ally yet mourns perfidious war,

Then in the senate of your sinking state,

Show me the man whose counsels may have weight. * Mr. West, ou seeing the “ Elgin Collection," (I supprise we shall hear

the "Abenshaw” and “ Jack Shephard's " Collection,) declared himself Ma mere tyro" in art.

• " Blest paper credit I last and best supply, † Poor Crib was madly puzzled when exhibited at E- Housc; he

That lends Corruption lighter wings to fly 1"-Pope. weaked if it was not "a mone shop? "-He was right; it is a shop

| The Deal and Dover traffickers in specie.


Vain is each voice where tones could once command ;|But know a lesson you may yet be taught,
E’en factions cease to charm a factious land; With death alone are laurels cheaply bought:
Yet jarring sects convulse a sister isle,

Not in the conflict Havoc seeks delight,
And light with maddening hands the mutual pile. His day of mercy is the day of fight.

But when the field is fought, the battle won,

Though drench'd with gore, his woes are but begun “ 'Tis done, 'tis past, since Pallas warns in vain, His deeper deeds as yet ye know by name; The furies seize her abdicated reign:

The slaughter'd peasant and the ravish'd dame, Wide o'er the realm they wave their kindling brands, The rifled mansion and the foe-reap'd field, And wring her vitals with their fiery hands. Ill suit with souls at home, untaught to yield. But one convulsive struggle still remains,

Say with what eye along the distant down And Gaul shall weep ere. Albion wears her chains. Would flying burghers mark the blazing town? The banner'd pomp of war, the glittering files, How view the column of ascending flames O’er whose gay trappings stern Bellona smiles; Shake his red shadow o’er the startled Thames ? The brazen trump, the spířit-stirring drum, Nay, frown not, Albion! for the torch was thine That bid the foe defiance ere they come;

That lit such pyres from Tagus to the Rhine. The hero bounding at his country's call,

Now should they burst on thy devoted coast, The glorious death that decorates his fall,

Go, ask thy bosom who deserves them most. Swell the young heart with visionary charms, The law of heaven and earth is life for life, And bids it antedate the joys of arms.

And she who raised, in vain regrets the strife.”



" Qualis in Eurou ripiu aut per juga Cynthi,

Exercet Diana choros," VIRGIL.
"Such on Eurota's banks, or Cynthia's height,

Diana seems: and so she charms the sight,
When in the dance the graceful goddess leads
The quire of nymphs, and overtops their heads."




ling great praises of Mrs. H.'s dancing, (she was faSIR,

mous for birthnight minuets in the latter end of the I AM a country gentleman of a midland county. last century,) I unbooted and went to a ball at the I might have been a parliament-man for a certain countess's, expecting to see a country dance, or at borough, having had the offer of as many votes as most, cotillions, reels, and all the old paces to the General T. at the general election in 1812.* But I newest tunes. But, judge of my surprise, on arriving, was all for domestic happiness; as, fifteen years to see poor dear Mrs. Hornem with her arms half ago, on a visit to London, I married a middle-aged round the loins of a huge hussar-looking gentleman maid of honor. We lived happily at Hornem Hall I never set eyes on before; and his, to say truth, till last season, when my wife and I were invited by rather more than half round her waist, turning the Countess of Waltzaway (a distant relation of my round, and round, and round, to add see-saw spouse) to pass the winter in town. Thinking no up-and-down sort of tune, that reminded me of the harm, and our girls being come to a marriageable“ Black joke," only more "affetuoso," till it made (or as they call it, marketable) age, and having be- me quite giddy with wondering they were not so. sides a Chancery suit inveterately entailed upon the By and by they stopp'd a bit, and I thought they family estate, we came up in our old chariot, of which would sit or fall down :-but, no; with Mrs. H. ; by the by, my wife grew so much ashamed in less than hand on his shoulder, quam familiariter,”* (as a week, that I was obliged to buy a second-hand Terrence said, when I was at school,) they walked barouche, of which I might mount the box, Mrs. H. says, if I could drive, but never see the inside-that!

ada • My Latin is all forgotten, if a man can be said to have forgotten what place being reserved for the Honorable Augustus he never remembered; but I bought my title-page motto of a Catholic priest about a minute, and then at it again, like two cock- Hail, nimble nymph! to whom the young hutsat, chafers spitted on the same bodkin. I asked what The whisker'd votary of waltz and war, all this meant, when, with a loud laugh, a child no His night devotes, despite of spur and boots ; older than our Wilhelmina, (a name I never heard but A sight unmatch'd since Orpheus and his brutes : in the Vicar of Wakefield, though her mother Hail, spirit-stirring Waltz !-beneath whose banners would call her after the Princess of Swappenbach,) A modern hero fought for modish manners; said, “Lord! Mr. Hornem, can't you see they are On Hounslow's heath to rival Wellesley's* fame, valtzing!” or waltzing, (I forget which ;) and then Cock'd-fired and miss'd his man--but gain'd hie up she got, and her mother and sister, and away they

ar- for a three shilling bank token, after much haggling for the even sixpence.

I grudged the money to a papist, being all for the memory of Perceral and

“No popery," and quite regretting the downfall of the pope, because we * State of the poll, (last day.) 5.

I can't burn him any more.


aim; went, and round-abouted it till supper-time. Now Hail moving muse! to whom the fair one's breast that I know what it is, I like it of all things, and Gives all it can, and bids us take the rest. so does Mrs. H. (though I have broken my shins, Oh! for the flow of Busby; or of Fitz, and four times overturned Mrs. Hornem's maid, in The latter's loyalty, the former's wits, practising the preliminary steps in a morning.) In- To “energize the object I pursue," deed, so much do I like it, that having a turn for And give both Belial and his dance their due ! rhyme, tastily displayed in some election ballads, and songs in honor of all the victories, (but till lately I Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine, have had little practice in that way,) I sat down, and (Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine,) with the aid of W.F. Esq. and a few hints from Dr. Long be thine import from all duty. free, B. (whose recitations I attend, and am monstrous And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee; fond of Master B.'s manner of delivering his father's In some few qualities alike--for hock late successful “D. L. Address,”) I composed the Improves our cellar-thou our living stock. following hymn, wherewithal to make my sentiments The head to hock belongs--thy subtler art known to the public, whom, nevertheless, I heartily Intoxicates alone the heedless heart; despise as well as the critics.

Through the full veins thy gentler poison swims,
I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c.

And wakes to wantonness the willing limbs.

Oh Germany! how much to thee we owe,
As heaven-born Pitt can testify below,
Ere cursed confederation made thee France's,

And only left us thy d-d debts and dances !
MUSE of the many-twinkling feet !* whose charms Of subsidies and Hanover bereft,
Are now extended up from legs to arms;

We bless thee still—for George the Third is left! Terpsichore !--too long misdeem'd a maid

Of kings the best—and last, not least in worth, Reproachful term-bestowed but to upbraid For graciously begetting George the Fourth. Henceforth in all the bronze of brightness shine, To Germany, and highnesses serene, The least a vestal of the virgin Nine.

Who owe us millions-don't we owe the queen ? Far be from thee and thine the name of prude;

To Germany, what owe we not besides ? Mock’d, yet triumphant; sneer'd at, unsubdued ;

So oft bestowing Brunswickers and brides; Thy legs must move to conquer as they fly,

Who paid for vulgar, with her royal blood, If but thy coats are reasonably high;

Drawn from the stem of each Teutonic stud : Thy breast-if bare enough-requires no shield; Who sent us--so be pardon'd all her faultsDance forth_sans armour thou shalt take the field. A dozen dukes-some kings-a queen and Waltz. And own-impregnable to most assaults Thy not too lawfully begotten “Waltz.”

But peace to her-her emperor and diet,

Though now transferr'd to Buonaparte's “ fiat!” • "Glance their many-twinkling feet."--Gray.

Back to my theme-O Muse of motion! say, | To rival Lord W.'s, or his nephew's, as the reader pleases :—the one How first to Albion found thy Waltz her way? gzined a pretty woman, whom he deserved, by fighting for; and the other has been fighting in the Peninsula many a long day, “ by Shrewsbury clock," without gaining any thing in that comtry but the title of the Great Lord,” Borne on the breath of Hyperborean gales, and "the Lord,” which savors of profanation, having been hitherto applied From Hamburg's port, (while Hamburg yet had only to that Being to whom “Te Deums" for carnage are the rankest hlasphemy. It is presumed the general will one day return to his Sabine

mails,) um; kere

Ere yet unlucky Fame--compell’d to creep “To tame the genius of the stubborn plain,

To snowy Gottenburgh-was chill'd to sleep; Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain !"

Or starting from her slumbers, deign'd arise, The lord Peterborough conquered continents in a summer; we do more se contrive both to conquer and lose them in a shorter season. If the

Heligoland ! to stock thy mart with lies;

great Lord's“ Cincinnatian progress in agriculture be no speedier than the propor. While unburnt Moscow* yet had news to send, dional average of time in Pope's couplet, it will, according to the farmer's Nor proverb, te " ploughing with dogs."

By the by-one of this illustrions person's new titles is forgotten-it is, however, worth remembering Salvador del mundo I" credite, posteri Il • The patriotic arson of our amiable allies cannot be sufficiently commended If this be the appellation annexed by the inhabitants of the Peninsula to the nor subscribed for. Among other details omitted in the various despatches name of a man who has not yet saved them-query-are they worth saving, of our eloquent ambassador, he did not state, (being too much occupied with even in this world? for, according to the mildest modifications of any Chris the exploits of Col. C , in swimming rivers frozen, and galloping over cian creed, those three words make the odds much agaiust them in the next.- roads impassable,) that one entire province perished by famine in the most “ Saviour of the world," quotha l-it were to be wished that he, or any one melancholy manner, as follows:- In General Rostopchin's consummate con. else, could save a corner of it--his country. Yet this stupid misnomer, flagration, the consumption of tallow and train oil was so great, that tho although it shows the near connexion between superstition and impiety, 80 market was inadequate to the demand : and thus one hundred and thirty. fır bas its use, that it proves there can be little to dread from those Catholics three thousaud persons were starved to death, by being reduced to whole. finquisitorial Catholics too) who can confer such an appellation on a Pro. some diet! The lamplighters of London have since subscribed a pint (of oil) iestant. I suppose next year he will be entitled the “ Virgin Mary :"if so, a piece, and the tallow.chandlers have unanimously voted a quantity of best word George Gordon himself would have nothing to object to such liberal moulds (four to the pound) to the relief of the surviving Scythians--the wastards of our Lady of Babylon.

I scarcity will soon, by such exertions, and a proper attention to the quality

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