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To humbug them with kind professions,
And as you deal in strong expressions-
'Rogue'-'traitor'-hiccup-and all that—
You must be muzzled, DOCTOR PAT!-
You must indeed-hiccup-that 's flat."
Yes-"muzzled" was the word, SIR JOHN-
These fools have clapp'd a muzzle on
The boldest mouth that e'er ran o'er
With slaver of the times of yore !'-
Was it for this that back I went
As far as Lateran and Trent,

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WE'RE told the ancient Roman nation
Made use of spittle in lustration.'-
(Vide Lactantium ap. Gallæum2-
I. e. you need not read but see 'em.)
Now, Irish Papists (fact surprising!)
Make use of spittle in baptising,

Which proves them all, O'FINNS, O'FAGANS,
CONNORS, and TOOLES, all downright Pagans!
This fact 's enough-let no one tell us
To free such sad, salivous fellows-
No-no-the man baptised with spittle
Hath no truth in him-not a tittle!

*

LETTER V.

FROM THE COUNTESS DOWAGER OF C

LADY.

ΤΟ

My dear Lady - ! I've been just sending out About five hundred cards for a snug little Rout(By the bye, you've seen ROKEBY ?-this moment got

mine

The Mail-Coach Edition3-prodigiously fine!)
But I can't conceive how, in this very cold weather,
I'm ever to bring my five hundred together;
As, unless the thermometer's near boiling heat,
One can never get half of one's hundreds to meet-
(Apropos-you'd have laugh'd to see TOWNSEND,
last night,

Escort to their chair, with his staff so polite,
The "three maiden Miseries," all in a fright!
Poor TOWNSEND, like MERCURY, filling two posts,
Supervisor of thieves, and chief-usher of ghosts!)
But, my dear Lady

notion,

-! can't you hit on some

At least for one night, to set London in motion?
As to having the R-G-NT-that show is gone by-
Besides, I've remark'd that (between you and I)
The MARCHESA and he, inconvenient in more ways,
Have taken much lately to whispering in door-ways;
Which-considering, you know, dear, the size of the

two

Makes a block that one's company cannot get through; And a house such as mine is, with door-ways so small, Has no room for such cumbersome love-work at all!— (Apropos, though, of love-work-you've heard it, I

hope,

That NAPOLEON's old Mother's to marry the POPE,-
What a comical pair!)-But, to stick to my Rout,
'T will be hard if some novelty can't be struck out
Is there no ALGERINE, no KAMCHATKAN arrived?
No Plenipo PACHA, three-tail'd and ten-wived?

1

lustralibus ante salivis

To prove that they, who damn'd us then,
Ought now, in turn, be damn'd again!—
The silent victim still to sit

Of GR-TT-N's fire and C-NN-G's wit,
To hear even noisy M-TH-w gabble on
Nor mention once the W-e of Babylon!
Oh! 'tis too much-who now will be
The Nightman of No-Popery?
What Courtier, Saint, or even Bishop,
Such learned filth will ever fish up?
If there among our ranks be one
To take my place, 'tis thou, SIR JOHN-
Thou-who like me, art dubb'd Right Hon.
Like me, too, art a Lawyer Civil
That wishes Papists at the devil!

To whom then but to thee, my friend,
Should PATRICK2 his Port-folio send?
Take it 't is thine-his learn'd Port-folio
With all its theologic olio

Of Bulls, half Irish and half Roman,-
Of Doctrines now believed by no man-
Of Councils, held for men's salvation,
Yet always ending in damnation-
(Which shows that since the world's creation,
Your Priests, whate'er their gentle shamming,
Have always had a taste for damning ;)
And many more such pious scraps,
To prove (what we've long proved perhaps)
That, mad as Christians used to be

About the Thirteenth Century,
There's lots of Christians to be had

In this, the Nineteenth, just as mad!

Farewell-I send with this, dear N-CH-L!

A rod or two I've had in pickle

Wherewith to trim old GR-TT-N's jacket.-
The rest shall go by Monday's packet.

P.D.

then put into the Twopenny Post-Office, to save trouble.See the Appendix.

1 In sending this sheet to the Press, however, I learn that the "muzzle" has been taken off, and the Right Hon. Doctor let loose again.

Expiat.

Pers. Sat. 2.

2 I have taken the trouble of examining the Doctor'a reference here, and find him, for once, correct. The following are the words of his indignant referee Galleus-" Asserere non veremur sacrum baptismum a Papistis profanari, et 2 This is a bad name for poetry; but D-gen-n is worse.sputi usum in peccatorum expiatione a Paganis non a As Prudentius says, upon a very different subject

torquetur Apollo

Nomine percussus.

Christianis manasse."

3 See Mr. Murray's Advertisement about the Mail-Coach copies of Rokeby.

No RUSSIAN, whose dissonant consonant name
Almost rattles to fragments the trumpet of fame?

I remember the time, three or four winters back,

Yet, though they thus their knee-pans fetter, |(They're Christians, and they know no better)1 In some things they're a thinking nation

When-provided their wigs were but decently black-And, on Religious Toleration,

A few Patriot monsters, from SPAIN, were a sight
That would people one's house for one, night after
night.

But whether the Ministers paw'd them too much
(And you know how they spoil whatever they touch,)
Or, whether Lord G-RGE (the young man about town)
Has, by dint of bad poetry, written them down-
One has certainly lost one's peninsular rage,
And the only stray Patriot seen for an age

Has been at such places (think how the fit cools)
As old Mrs. V-N's or Lord L-v-RP-L's!

I own I like their notions quite,
They are so Persian and so right!
You know our SUNNITES,' hateful dogs!
Or longs to flog3't is true, they pray
Whom every pious SHIITE flogs
To God, but in an ill-bred way;
With neither arms, nor legs, nor faces
Stuck in their right, canonic places !4
'Tis true, they worship ALr's name —
Their heaven and ours are just the same-
(A Persian's heaven is easily made,
'Tis but-black eyes and lemonade.)

But, in short, my dear, names like WINTZTSCHITS-Yet-though we've tried for centuries back—

TOPSCHINZOUDHOFF

We can't persuade the stubborn pack,

Are the only things now make an evening go smooth By bastinadoes, screws, or nippers,

off

So, get me a Russian-till death I'm your debtor-
If he brings the whole Alphabet, so much the better:
And-Lord! if he would but, in character, sup
Off his fish-oil and candles, he'd quite set me up!
Au revoir, my sweet girl-I must leave you in haste-
Little GUNTER has brought me the Liqueurs to taste.

POSTSCRIPT.

By the bye, have you found any friend that can construe
That Latin account, t' other day, of a Monster ?1
If we can't get a Russian, and that thing in Latin
Be not too improper, I think I'll bring that in.

LETTER VI.

FROM ABDALLAH,2 IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN, IN

ISPAHAN.

WHILST thou, MOHASSAN (happy thou!)
Dost daily bend thy loyal brow
Before our King-our Asia's treasure!
Nutmeg of Comfort! Rose of Pleasure !—
And bear'st as many kicks and bruises
As the said Rose and Nutmeg chooses ;-
Thy head still near the bowstring's borders,
And but left on till further orders!
Through London streets, with turban fair,
And caftan floating to the air,
I saunter on the admiration

Of this short-coated population

This sew'd-up race-this button'd nation-
Who, while they boast their laws so free,
Leave not one limb at liberty,

But live, with all their lordly speeches,
The slaves of buttons and tight breeches.

To wear th' establish'd pea-green slippers !6
Then-only think-the libertines!
They wash their toes-they comb their chins,"
With many more such deadly sins!

And (what's the worst, though last I rank it)
Believe the Chapter of the Blanket!

Yet, spite of tenets so flagitious,
(Which must, at bottom, be seditious;
As no man living would refuse
Green slippers, but from treasonous views;
Nor wash his toes, but with intent
To overturn the government!)
Such is our mild and tolerant way,
We only curse them twice a-day
(According to a form that 's set,)
And, far from torturing, only let
All orthodox believers beat 'em,
And twitch their beards, where'er they meet 'em.

As to the rest, they're free to do
Whate'er their fancy prompts them to,
Provided they make nothing of it
Tow'rds rank or honour, power or profit;
Which things, we nat'rally expect,
Belong to us, the Establish'd sect,
Who disbelieve (the Lord be thanked!)
Th' aforesaid Chapter of the Blanket.

1 "C'est un honnête homme," said a Turkish governor of de Ruyter;" c'est grand dommage qu'il soit Chrétien." 2 Sunnites and Shiites are the two leading sects into which the Mahometan world is divided: and they have gone on cursing and persecuting each other, without any intermission, for about eleven hundred years. The Sunni is the established sect in Turkey, and the Shia in Persia; and the difference between them turn chiefly upon those important points, which our pious friend Abdallah, in the true spirit of Shiite Ascendancy, reprobates in this Letter.

3" Les Sunnites, qui étaient comme les catholiques de Musulmanisme."-D'Herbelot.

4 "In contradistinction to the Sounis, who in their prayers 1 Alluding, I suppose, to the Latin Advertisement of a cross their hands on the lower part of the breast, the Schiahs Lusus Naturæ in the Newspapers lately.

or carpet, the Schiahs," etc. etc.-Foster's Voyage.
5 "Les Turcs ne détestent pas Ali réciproquement; au
contraire ils le reconnaissent," etc. etc.-Chardin.
6" The Shiites wear green slippers, which the Sunnites
consider as a great abomination."—Mariti.

drop their arms in straight lines; and as the Sounis, at cer2 I have made many inquiries about this Persian gentle-tain periods of the prayer, press their foreheads on the ground man, but cannot satisfactorily ascertain who he is. From his notions of Religious Liberty, however, I conclude that he is an importation of Ministers; and he has arrived just in time to assist the PE and Mr. L-CK-E in their new Oriental Plan of Reform.-See the second of these Letters. -How Abdallah's epistle to Ispahan found its way into the Twopenny Post Bag is more than I can pretend to account lor.

7 For these points of difference, as well as for the Chapter of the Blanket, I must refer the reader (not having the book by me) to Picart's Account of the Mahometan Sects

The same mild views of Toleration
Inspire, I find, this button'd nation,
Whose Papists (full as given to rogue,
And only Sunnites with a brogue)
Fare just as well, with all their fuss,
As rascal Sunnites do with us.

The tender Gazel I inclose
Is for my love, my Syrian Rose-
Take it, when night begins to fall,
And throw it o'er her mother's wall.
GAZEL.

Rememberest thou the hour we past?
That hour, the happiest and the last!—
Oh! not so sweet the Siha thorn
To summer bees at break of morn,
Not half so sweet, through dale and dell,
To camels' ears the tinking bell,
As is the soothing memory

Of that one precious hour to me!

How can we live, so far apart?
Oh! why not rather heart to heart,

United live and die ?

Like those sweet birds that fly together, With feather always touching feather, Link'd by a hook and eye!!

LETTER VII.

FROM MESSRS. L-CK-GT-N AND CO.

You'll get to the Blue-stocking Routs of ALB-N--A!
|(Mind-not to her dinners-a second-hand Muse
Must n't think of aspiring to mess with the Blues.
Or-in case nothing else in this world you can do→→
The deuce is in't, Sir, if you cannot review!
Should you feel any touch of poetical glow,
We've a scheme to suggest-Mr. Sc-TT, you must
know

(Who, we're sorry to say it, now works for the Row,)2
Having quitted the Borders to seek new renown,
Is coming, by long Quarto stages, to Town;
And beginning with ROKEBY (the job's sure to pay)
Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats on the way.
Now the Scheme is (though none of our hackneys
can beat him)

To start a fresh Poet through Highgate to meet him; Who, by means of quick proofs-no revises-long coaches

May do a few Villas before Sc-TT approaches-
Indeed if our Pegasus be not curst shabby,

He'll reach, without found'ring, at least WOBURN-
ABBEY.

Such, Sir, is our plan-if you're up to the freak, "Tis a match! and we'll put you in training, next

week

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PER POST, Sir, we send your MS.-look'd it thro'Very sorry-but can't undertake-'t would'nt do. Clever work, Sir!-would get up prodigiously wellIts only defect is-it never would sell!

And though Statesmen may glory in being unbought, In an Author, we think, Sir, that's rather a fault. Hard times, Sir-most books are too dear to be readThough the gold of Good-sense and Wit's smallchange are fled,

Yet the paper we publishers pass, in their stead,
Rises higher each day, and ('t is frightful to think it)
Not even such names as F-TZG-R-D's can sink it!
However, Sir-if you're for trying again,

And at somewhat that's vendible-we are your men.
Since the Chevalier C-RR took to marrying lately,
The Trade is in want of a Traveller greatly-
No job, Sir, more easy-your Country once plann'd,
A month aboard ship and a fortnight on land
Puts your Quarto of Travels clean out of hand.
An East-India pamphlet's a thing that would tell-
And a lick at the Papists is sure to sell well.
Or-supposing you have nothing original in you-
Write Parodies, Sir, and such fame it will win you,

1 This will appear strange to an English reader, but it is literally translated from Abdallah's Persian, and the curious bird to which he alludes is the Juftak, of which I find the following account in Richardson.—" Á sort of bird that is said to have but one wing, on the opposite side to which the male has a hook and the female a ring, so that, when they fly, they are fastened together."

2 From motives of delicacy, and, indeed, of fellow-feeling, I suppress the name of the Author, whose rejected manuscript was inclosed in this letter.-See the Appendix.

LETTER VIII.

ESQ.

FROM COLONEL TH-M-S TO
COME to our Fete,3 and bring with thee
Thy newest, best embroidery!
Come to our Fete, and show again
That pea-green coat, thou pink of men!
Which charm'd all eyes that last survey'd it,
When B -L's self inquired "who made it?"
When Cits came wondering from the East,
And thought thee Poet PYE, at least!
Oh! come- -(if haply 't is thy week
For looking pale)-with paly cheek;
Though more we love thy roseate days,
When the rich rouge pot pours its blaze
Full o'er thy face, and, amply spread,
Tips even thy whisker-tops with red-
Like the last tints of dying Day
That o'er some darkling grove delay!

Bring thy best lace, thou gay Philander!
(That lace, like H-RRY AL-X-ND—R,
Too precious to be wash'd)-thy rings,
Thy seals-in short, thy prettiest things!
Put all thy wardrobe's glories on,
And yield, in frogs and fringe, to none
But the great R-G-T's self alone!

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Who, by particular desire—

For that night only, means to hire
A dress from ROMEO C-TES, Esquire-
Something between ('t were sin to hack it)
The Romeo robe and Hobby jacket!
Hail, first of Actors!' best of R-G-TS!
Born for each other's fond allegiance!
Both gay Lotharios-both good dressers-
Of Serious Farce both learned Professors-
Both circled round, for use or show,
With cocks'-combs, wheresoe'er they go
Thou know'st the time, thou man of lore!
It takes to chalk a ball-room floor-
Thou know'st the time, too, well-a-day!
It takes to dance that chalk away.2
The Ball-room opens-far and nigh
Comets and suns beneath us lie;

O'er snowy moons and stars we walk,
And the floor seems a sky of chalk!
But soon shall fade the bright deceit,
When many a maid, with busy feet
That sparkle in the Lustre's ray,
O'er the white path shall bound and play
Like Nymphs along the Milky Way!
At every step a star is fled,

And suns grow dim beneath their tread!
So passeth life-(thus SC-TT would write,
And spinsters read him with delight)—
Hours are not feet, yet hours trip on,
Time is not chalk, yet time's soon gone!"
But, hang this long digressive flight!
I meant to say, thou'lt see, that night,
What falsehood rankles in their hearts,
Who say the P-E neglects the arts-
Neglects the arts!-no, ST-G! no;
Thy Cupids answer "'t is not so,"
And every floor, that night, shall tell
How quick thou daubest, and how well!
Shine as thou may'st in French vermilion,
Thou'rt best-beneath a French cotillion;
And still comest off, whate'er thy faults,
With flying colours in a Waltz!

Nor need'st thou mourn the transient date
To thy best works assign'd by Fate-
While some chefs-d'œuvre live to weary one,
Thine boast a short life and a merry one;
Their hour of glory past and gone

With "Molly, put the kettle on!"

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2 To those who neither go to balls nor read the Morning Post, it may be necessary to mention that the floors of Ballrooms, in general, are chalked, for safety and for ornament, with various fanciful devices.

3 Hearts are not flint, yet flints are rent, Hearts are not steel, but steel is bent. After all, however, Mr. Sc-tt may well say to the Colonel (and, indeed, to much better wags than the Colonel,) pov μωρείσθαι η μιμείσθαι.

But, bless my soul! I've scarce a leaf
Of paper left-so, must be brief.

This festive Fete, in fact, will be
The former Fete's fac-simile;'

The same long Masquerade of Rooms,
Trick'd in such different, quaint costumes,
(These, P-RT-R, are thy glorious works'
You'd swear Egyptians, Moors, and Turks,
Bearing Good-Taste some deadly malice,
Had clubb'd to raise a Pic-Nic Palace;
And each, to make the oglio pleasant,
Had sent a State-Room as a present;
The same fauteuils and girondoles—
The same gold Asses, pretty souls!
That, in this rich and classic dome,
Appear so perfectly at home!

The same bright river 'mongst the dishes,
But not-ah! not the same dear fishes-
Late hours and claret kill'd the old ones!
So, 'stead of silver and of gold ones

(It being rather hard to raise

Fish of that specie now-a-days,)

Some sprats have been, by Y-RM-TH's wish,
Promoted into Silver Fish,

And Gudgeons (so V-NS-TT-T told
The R-G-T) are as good as Gold!

So, pr'ythee, come-our Fete will be
But half a Fete, if wanting thee!

APPENDIX.

LETTER IV, Page 156.

AMONG the papers inclosed in Dr. D-G-N-N'S Letter, there is a Heroic Epistle in Latin verse, from POPE JOAN to her Lover, of which, as it is rather a curious document, I shall venture to give some account. This female Pontiff was a native of England (or, according to others, of Germany) who, at an early age, disguised herself in male attire, and followed her lover, a young ecclesiastic, to Athens, where she studied with such effect, that upon her arrival at Rome she was thought worthy of being raised to the Pontificate. This Epistle is addressed to her Lover (whom she had elevated to the dignity of Cardinal,) soon after the fatal accouchement, by which her Fallibility was betrayed.

She begins by reminding him very tenderly of the time when they were in Athens-when

"By Ilissus' stream We whispering walk'd along, and learn'd to speak The tenderest feelings in the purest Greek; Ah! then how little did we think or hope, Dearest of men! that I should e'er be POPE!3

1 "C-rl-t-n He will exhibit a complete fac-simile, in respect to interior ornament, to what it did at the last Fête. The same splendid draperies," etc. etc.-Morning

Post.

2 The salt-cellars on the P-E's own table were in the form of an Ass with panniers.

3 Spanheim attributes the unanimity with which Joan was elected, to that innate and irresistible charm by which

That I-the humble Joan-whose house-wife art
Seem'd just enough to keep thy house and heart
(And those, alas! at sixes and at sevens,)
Should soon keep all the keys of all the Heavens!"
Still less (she continues to say) could they have
foreseen, that such a catastrophe as had happened in
Council would befal them-that she

"Should thus surprise the Conclave's grave decorum
And let a little Pope pop out before 'em-
Pope Innocent! alas, the only one

That name should ever have been fix'd upon!"

She then very pathetically laments the downfal of her greatness, and enumerates the various treasures to which she is doomed to bid farewell for ever.

I see thy damned ink in ELD-N's brows-
I see thy foolscap on my H-RTF-D's spouse-
V-NS-T-T's head recalls thy leathern case,
And all thy blank-leaves stare from R-D-R's face!

While, turning here [laying his hand on his heart] E
find, ah, wretched elf!
Thy list of dire errata in myself.

[Walks the stage in considerable agitation.]
Oh Roman Punch! oh potent Curacoa!
Oh Mareschino! Mareschino oh!
Delicious drams! why have you not the art
To kill this gnawing book-worm in my heart?

Here he is interrupted in his soliloquy by perceiv ing some scribbled fragments of paper on the ground, which he collects, and "by the light of two magnifi

"But oh! more dear, more precious ten times over-cent candelabras" discovers the following unconnected
Farewell, my Lord, my Cardinal, my Lover!
I made thee Cardinal-thou madest me-ah!
Thou madest the Papa' of the World-Mamma!"

I have not time now to translate any more of this Epistle; but I presume the argument which the Right Hon. Doctor and his friends mean to deduce from it, is (in their usual convincing strain) that Romanists must be unworthy of Emancipation now, because they had a Petticoat Pope in the Ninth Century-Nothing can be more logically clear, and I find that Horace had exactly the same views upon the subject:

Romanus (eheu posteri, negabitis !)
Emancipatus FOEMINE

Fert vallum!

LETTER VII. Page 160.

words:" Wife neglected"-" the Book"-" Wrong Measures" the Queen"-" Mr Lambert"—" the R-G-T."

Ha! treason in my house!-Curst words, that wither
My princely soul [shaking the papers violently,] what
demon brought you hither?

"My wife!"-"the Book," too!-stay-a nearer look-
[Holding the fragments closer to the candelabras.]
Alas! too plain, B, double O, K, Book-
Death and destruction!

He here rings all the bells, and a whole legion of valets enter.-A scene of cursing and swearing (very much in the German style) ensues, in the course of which messengers are dispatched, in different directions, for the L-RD CH-NC-LL-R, the D-E of C-B-L-D, etc. etc.--The intermediate time is filled up by another soliloquy, at the conclusion of which, the aforesaid personages rush on alarmed-the D-E with his stays only half-laced, and the CH-NC--LLOR with his wig thrown hastily over an old red nightcap, 'to maintain the becoming splendour of his office." The R-G-T produces the appalling fragThe first Act opens in a very awful manner :-Time, ments, upon which the CH-NC-LL-R breaks out three o'clock in the morning-Scene, the Bourbon into exclamations of loyalty and tenderness, and reChamber3 in C-rl-t-n house-Enter the P-Elates the following portentous dream :R-G-T solus.--After a few broken sentences, he thus exclaims:

The manuscript, which I found in the bookseller's letter, is a melo-drama, in two Acts, entitled "THE Воок, ,"2 of which the theatres, of course, had had the refusal, before it was presented to Messrs. L-ck-ngt-n and Co.-This rejected drama, however, possesses considerable merit, and I shall take the iberty of laying a sketch of it before my readers.

66

Away-away

Thou haunt'st my fancy so, thou devilish Book!
I meet thee-trace thee, wheresoe'er I look.

her sex, though latent, operated upon the instinct of the
Cardinals-"Non vi aliqua, sed concorditer, omnium in se
converso desiderio, quæ sunt blandientis sexus artes, laten-
tes in hac quanquam!"

1 This is an anachronism; for it was not till the eleventh century, that the Bishop of Rome took the title of Papa, or Universal Father.

"Tis scarcely two hours since

I had a fearful dream of thee, my P—E!—
Methought I heard thee, midst a courtly crowd,
Say from thy throne of gold, in mandate loud,
"Worship my whiskers!"-[weeps] not a knee was
there

But bent and worshipp'd the Illustrious Pair
That curl'd in conscious majesty! [Pulls out his
handkerchief-while cries

Of "Whiskers! whiskers!" shook the echoing
skies!-

2 There was a mysterious Book, in the 16th century, which Just in that glorious hour, methought, there came, employed all the anxious curiosity of the learned of that day. Every one spoke of it; many wrote against it; though it With looks of injured pride, a princely dame, does not appear that any body had ever seen it; and indeed And a young maiden clinging to her side, Grotius is of opinion that no such book ever existed. It was entitled "Liber de tribus impostoribus." (See Morhof. Cap. As if she feared some tyrant would divide de Libris damnatis.)-Our more modern mystery of "the The hearts that nature and affection tied! Book" resembles this in many particulars; and, if the num- The matron came-within her right hand glow'd ber of lawyers employed in drawing it up be stated correctly, a slight alteration of the title into "à tribus impostoribus" A radiant torch; while from her left a load would produce a coincidence altogether very remarkable.

3 The chamber, I suppose, which was prepared for the reception of the Bourbons at the first Grand Fête, and which was ornamented (all "for the Deliverance of Europe") with fleurs de lys

1 "To enable the individual, who holds the office ot Chancellor, to maintain it in becoming splendour." (Aloud laugh.)-Lord Castlereagh's Speech upon the Vice-Chancellor's Bill.

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