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ly, however, does allude frequently to his family Thus, we do not think Lord Byron was made
and ancestors - sometimes in notes; and while for translating, during his non-age, Adrian's
giving up his claim on the score of rank, he Address to his soul, when Pope succeeded so
takes care to remember ns of Dr. Johnson's say- indifferently in the attempt. If our readers,
ing, that when a nobleman appears as an author, however, are of another opinion, they may
his merit should be handsomely acknowledged. look at it.
In truth, it is this consideration only, that in-
duces us to give Lord Byron's poems a place in

Ah! gentle, fleeting, wavering sprite,
our Review beside our desire to counsel him,

Friend and associate of this clay! that he do forthwith abandon poetry, and turn

To what unknown region borne, his talents, which are considerable, and his op

Wilt thou now wing thy distant fliglıt ? portunities, which are great, to better account. No more with wonted humour gay,

With this view, we must beg leave seriously But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn. to assure him, that the mere rhyming of the final syllable,' even when accompanied by the Jations and imitations are great favourites with

However, be this as it may, we fear his transpresence of a certain number of feet; nay, though (which does not always happen) those feet Lord Byron. We have them of all kinds, froin should scan regularly, and have been all count

Anacreon to Ossian ; and viewing thein as schooled accurately, upon the fingers, it is not the exercises, they may pass. Only, why print them whole art of poetry. We would entreat him to

after they have had their day and served their beli e, that a certain portion of liveliness, tarn? As to his Ossianic poesy we are not very somewhat of fancy, is necessary to constitute a good judges, being, in truth, so moderately skill poem, and that a poem in the present day, to

ed in that species of composition, that we should, read, must contain at least one thought, ei- in all probability, be criticising some bit of the ther in a little degree different from the ideas genuine Macpherson itself, were we to express of former writers, or differently expressed. We our opinion of Lord Byron's rhapsodies. If, then, put it to his candour, whether there is any thing is by his Lordship, we venture

to abject to it,

the following beginning of a “Song of Bards, Bo deserving the name of poetry in verses like the following, written in 1806 ; and whether, if as far as we can comprehend it. "What forin a youth of eighteen could say any, thing, so un

rises on the roar of clouds, whose dark ghost interesting to his ancestors, a youth of nineteen gleams on the red stream of tempesta ? His voice should publish it.

olla on the thunder ; 'tis Orla, the brown chief

of Oithona." After detaining this “brown chiet" Shades of heroes, farewell! your descendant, some time, the bards conclude by giving him departing

their advice to “ raise his fair locks; " then to From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu! “spread them on the arch of the rainbow;" and Abroad, or at home, your remembrance imparting to smile through the tears of the storm."

New courage, he'll think upon glory and you. this kind of thing there are no less than nine Though a tear dim his eye at this sad separation, pages ; and we can so far venture an opinion in "Tis nature, not fear, that excites his regret : son; and we are positive they are pretty nearly

their favour, that they look very like MacpherPar distant he goes, with the same emulation; The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget.

as stupid and tiresome. That fame, and that memory, still will he cherish, but they should use it as not abusing it';" and

It is a sort of privilege of poets to be egotists ; He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your particularly one who piques himself (though in

renown; Like you will he live, or like you will be perish; infant-bard," =("The artless Helicon I boast is

deed at the ripe age of nineteen) of being “an When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with youth ; ")—should either not know, or should seem your own.

not to know, 80 much about his own ancestry. Now we positively do assert, that there is Besides a poem above cited, on the family-seat nothing better than these stanzas in the whole of the Byrons, we have another of eleven pages, on compass of the noble minor's volume.

the self-same subject, introduced with an apology, Lord Byron should also have a care of at-he certainly had no intention of inserting it," tempting what the greatest poets have done be- but really "the particular request of some fore him, for comparisons (as he must have had friends," etc. It concludes with five stanzas on occasion to see at his writing-master's) are odious. himself, “the last and youngest of a noble line." -Gray's Ode on Eton College should really There is a good deal also about his maternal have kept out the ten hobbling stanzas “ On å ancestors, in a poem on Lachin y Gair, a moundietant view of the village and school of Harrow. tain were he spent part of his youth, and might

have learnt that pibroch is not a bagpipe, any Where fancy yet joys to retrace the resemblance

more than duet means a fiddle. Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied;

As the author has dedicated so large a part How welcome to me your ne'er fading reinem- of his volume to immortalize his employments at brance,

school and college, we cannot possibly dismiss it Which rests in the bosom, though hope is denied. without presenting the reader 'with a specimen

of these ingenious effusions. In an ode" with a
In like manner, the exquisite lines of Mr. Greek motto, called Granta, we have the fol-
Rogers “On a Tear," might have warned the lowing magnificent stanzas :
noble author off those premises, and spared us
. whole dozen such stanzas as the following: There, in apartments small and damp,
Mild Charity's glow,

The candidate for college-prizes
To us mortals below,

Sits poring by the midnight-lamp,
Shows the soul from barbarity clear;

Goes late to bed, yet early rises.
Compassion will melt

Who reads false quantities in Sele,
Where this virtue is felt,

Or puzzles o'er 'the deep triangle,
And its dew is diffused in a Tear.

Deprived of many a wholesome meal,
The man doom'd to sail,

In barbarous Latin doom'd to wrangle:
With the blast of the gale,
Through billows Atlantic to steer,

Renouncing every pleasing page
As he bends o'er the wave,

Prom authors of historic use,
Which may soon be his grave,

Prefer to the letter'd rage
The green sparkles bright with a Tcar,

The square of the hypothenuse.

Still barmless are these occupations,

them as we find them, and be content ; for they That hurt none but the hapless studenh are the last we shall ever have from him. He Com pared with other recreations,

is, at best, he says, but an intrader into the Which bring together the imprudent groves of Parnassus; he never lived in a garret,

like thorough-bred poets; and “though he once We are sorry to hear so bad an account of roved a careless mountaineer in the Highlands the college-psalinody as is contained in the fol- of Scotland," he has not of late enjoyed this lowing Attic stanzas.

advantage. Moreover, he expects no profit from Our choir would scarcely be excused,

his publication; and, whether it succeeds or not, Even as a band of raw beginners ;

“it is highly improbable, from his situation and All mercy now must be refused

pursuits hereafter," that he should again condesTo such a set of croaking sinners.

cend to become an author. Therefore, let us

take what we get and be thankful. What right If David, when his toils were ended,

have we poor devils to be nice? We are well Had heard these blockheads sing before him, off to have got so much from a man of this Lord's To us his pealms had ne'er descended : station, who does not live in a garret, but “has In furious mood he would have tore 'em! the sway" of Newstead Abbey. Again, we say,

let us be thankful ; and, with'honest Sancho, bid But whatever judgment may be passed on the God bless the giver , por look the gift horse in poems of this poble minor, it seems we must take the mouth.

NOTE TO THE LETTER OF BOWLES'| replied Sheridan, “I remember little, except that STRICTURES ON POPE,

there was a phænit in it." A phenix!! Well, how did he describe it?" "Like a poulterer;"

answered Sheridan; "it was green, and yellow, Corrper's Dutch delineation of a wood drawn up and red, and blue: he did not let us off for a like a scedsman's catalogue.

[p. 690. I will submit to Mr. Bowles's own judgment

single feather." And just such as this poulterer's passage from another poem of Cowper's, to be detail of a wood, with all its petty minutiæ of

account of a phenix, is Cowper's a stick-picker's compared with the same writer's Sylvan Sampler. this, that, and the other. In the lines to Mary, Thy needles, once a shining store,

One more poetical instance of the power of art, For my sake restless heretofore,

and even its superiority over nature, in poetry,

and I have done ;-the bust of Antinous ! le there Now rust disused, and shine no more,

My Mary,

any thing in nature like this marble, excepting

the Venus ? Can there be more poetry gathered contain a simple, household, “indoor," artificial, into existence than in that wonderful creation and ordinary image. I refer Mr. Bowles to the of perfect beauty? But the poetry of this bust is stanza, and ask if these three lines about “nee-in no respect derived froin nature, nor from dles" are not worth all the boasted twaddliug any association of moral exaltedness; for what about trees, so triumphantly re-quoted ? and yet is there in common with moral natnre and the in fact what do they convey? A homely collec- male minion of Adrian? The very execution is tion of images and ideas associated with the not natural, but super-natural, or rather superdarning of stockings, and the hemming of shirts, artificial, for nature has never done so much. and the mending of breeches; but will any one Away, then, with this cant about nature and deny that they are eminently poetical and pa- "invariable principles of poetry !" A great artist thetic as addressed by Cowper to his nurse? will make a block of stone as sublime as a mounThe trash of trees reminds me of a saying of tain, and a good poet can inbue a pack of cardi Sheridan's. Soon after the “Rejected Address" with more poetry than inhabits the forests of scene, in 1812, I met Sheridan. In the course of America. It is the business and the proof of a dinner, he said, “Lord Byron, did you know poet to give the lie to the proverb, and somethat amongst the writers of addresses was Whit- times to make a silken purse out of a sow's ear;" bread himself?" I answered by an inquiry of and to conclude with another homely proverb, what sort of an address he had made. “Of that," I "a good workman will not find fault with his tools."

W A L T Z )
AN A POSTROPHIC HY M N.

Qualis in Eurota ripis, aut per Joga Cynthi
Exercet DIANA choros.

VIRGIL.
Such on Eurotas' 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.

DRYDEN'S VIRGIL.

TO THE PUBLISHER.

down sort of tune, that reminded me of the “Black Joke," only more “affettuoso,

" till it Sir,

made me quite giddy with wondering they were

not 80. By and bye they stopped a bit, and I I am a country-gentleman of a midland-county. thought they would sit or fall down :-but, no; I might have been a Parliament-man for a cer with Mrs. H.'s hand on his shoulder, "quam tain borough, having had the offer of as many familiariter" (as Terence said when I was at votes as General T. at the general election in school), they walked about a minute, and then 1812 ). But I was all for domestic happiness ; at it again, like two cockchafers spitted on the as fifteen years ago, on a visit to London, I same bodkin. I asked what all this meant, when, married a middle-aged Maid of Honour. We with a loud laugh, a child not older than our lived happily at Hornem - Hall till last season, Wilhelmina (a name I never heard but in the when my wife and I were invited by the Count - Vicar of Wakefield, thongh her mother would ess

of Waltzaway (a distant relation of my call her after the Princess of Swappenbach), said spouse) to pass the winter in town. Thinking no Lord, Mr. Hornem, can't you see they are valtzharm, and our girls being come to a marriageable ing,", or waltzing (I forget which ); and then (or as they call it, marketable) age, and having up she got, and her mother and sister, and away besides a Chancery - gui inveterately entailed they went, and round-abouted it till supper-time. upon the family estate, we came up in our old Now that I know what it is, I like it of all chariot, of which, by the bye, my wife grew so things, and so does Mrs. H.; though I have much ashamed in less than a week, that I was broken my shins, and four times overturned Mrs. obliged to buy a second-hand baroache, of which Hornem's maid in practising the preliminary I might mount the box, Mrs. H. says, if I could steps in a morning. Indeed, so much do I like drive, but never see the inside-that place being it, that having a turn for rhyme, tastily disreserved for the Honourable Augustus Tiptoe, played in some election-ballads, and songs in her partner-general and opera-knight. Hearing honour of all the victories (but till lately I have great praises of Mrs. His dancing (she was had little practice in that way), I sat down, and famous for birth - night - minuets in the latter with the aid of W.F., Esq., and a few hints end of the last century), I unbooted, and went from Dr. B. (whose recitations I attend, and am to a ball at the Countess's, expecting to see a monstroas fond of Master B.'s manner of decountry-dance, or, at most, cotillions, reels, and livering his father's late successful D. L. Adall the old paces to the newest tunes. But, dress), I composed the following hymn, wherejudge of my surprise, on arriving, to see poor withal to make my sentiments known to the dear Mrs. Hornem with her arms half round the Public, whom, nevertheless, I heartily despise loins of a huge hussar-looking gentleman I never as well as the Critics. set eyes on before; and his, to say truth, rather more than half round her waist, iorning round,

I am, Sir,

yours, and round, and round, to a d-d see-raw up and

HORACE HORNEM.

Muse of the many · twinkling feet! whose Hail, nimble Nymph! to whom the young hussar, charms

The whisker'd votary of Waltz and WarAre now e stended up from legs to arms; His night devotes, despite of spur and boots, TERPSICHORB!-too long misdeem'd a maid - A sight unmatch d since Orpheus and his brutes: Reproachful term-bestow'd but to upbraid-. Hail, spirit-stirring Waliz! — beneath whose Henceforth in all the bronze of brightness shine,

banners The least a vestal of the virgin Nine.

A modern hero fought for modish manners; Par be from thee and thine the name of prude; On Hounslow's heath to rival Wellesley's fame, Mockd, yet triumphant ; sneer'd at, unsubdued ; Cockel-fired - and miss'd his man – but gain'd Thy legs must move to conquer as they fly,

his aiin. If but ihy coats are reasonably high ;

Hail moving Muse! to whom the fair one's breast Thy breast--if bare enough-requires no shield; Gives all it can, and bids us take the rest. Dance forth—sans armour thou shalt take the Oh! for the flow of Busby, or of Fitz, field,

The latter's loyalty, the former's wits, And own-impregnable to most assaults, To "energize the object I pursue," Thy not too lawfully begotten “Waltz.“ And give both Belial and his dance their due!

• This poem has been attributed to Lord Byron: the question of its authenticity remaining undecided, it is here given by way of appendix.

Ere yet

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine | 'Torments for life, or pleasures for a week;
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine), As love of Hymen your endeavours guide,
Long be thine import from all duty free, To gain your own, or snatch another's bride;
And Hock itself be less esteemid than thee ; To one and all the lovely stranger came,
In some few qualities alike-for Hock

And every ball-room echoes with her name.
Improves our cellar--thou our living stock.
The head to Hock belongs--thy subtler art
Intoxicates alone the heedless heart:

Endearing Waltz-to thy more melting tone Through the full veins thy gentler poison swims, Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon ; And wakes to wantonness the willing limbs. Scotch reels avauat! and country-dance forego

Oh, Germany! how much to thee we owe, Your future claims to each fantastic toe ; As heaven-born Pitt can testify below;

Waltz-Waltz-alone both legs and arms demanda, Ere cursed Confederation made thee France's, Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands ; And only left us thy d-d debts and dances ; Hands which inay freely range in public sight Of subsidies and Hanover bereft

Where ne'er before-but-pray "put out the light." We bless thee still—for George the Third is left! Methinks the glare of yonder chandelier of kings the best-and last, not least in worth, Shines much too far-or I am much too near; For graciously begetting George the Fourth. And true, though strange-Waltz whispers this To Germany, and Highnesses Serene,

remark, Who owe us millions—don't we owe the Queen? “My slippery steps are safest in the dark!" To Germany, what owe we not besides ?

But here the Muse with due decorum halts,
So oft bestowing Brunswickers and brides ; And lends her longest petticoat to Waltz.
Who paid for vulgar, with their royal blood,
Drawn from the stem of each Teutonic stud;
Who sent us—80 be pardon'd all her faults Observant travellers ! of every time;
A dozen Dukes -some Kings - a Queen- and Ye quartos ! publish'd upon every clime;
Waltz.

O say, shall doll Romaika's heavy round,
Fandango's wriggle, or Bolero's bound;

Can Egypt's Almas-tantalizing group-
But peace to her-her Emperor and Diet, Columbia's caperers to the warlike whoop-
Though now transferr'd to Bonaparte's "fiat;" Can aught froin cold Kamtschatka to Cape Hora
Back to my theme-O! M180 of motion say, With Waltz compare, or after Waltz be borne
How first to Albion found thy Waltz her way? Ah, no! from Morier's pages down to Galt's,

Each tourist pens a paragraph for “Waltz." Borne on the breath of hyperborean gales, From Hamburg's port (while Hamburg yet had Shades of those belles, whose reign began of gore, mails),

With George the Third's-and ended long beforenlucky Fame-coinpelld to creep Though in your daughters' daughters yet you To snowy Gottenburg-was chill'd to sleep;

thrive, Or, starting from her slumbers, deign'd arise, Burst from your lead, and be yourselves alive! Heligoland? to stock thy mart with lies ; Back to the ball-room speed your spectred host; While unburnt Moscow yet had uews to send, Fool's Paradise is dull to that you lost. Nor owed her fiery exit to a friend ;

No treacherous powder bids conjecture quake; She came-Waltz came-and with her certain sets No stiff starch'd stays make meddling fingers ache of true despatches, and as trae.gazettes ; (Transferrd to those ambiguous things that ape Then flamed of Austerlitz the blest despatch, Goats in their visage, women in their shape) ; Which Moniteur nor Morning-Post can match ; No damsel faints when rather closely pressid, And-almost crush'd beneath the glorious newe But more caressing seems when most caress'd; Ten plays, and forty tales of Kotzebue's ; Superfluous hartshorn, and reviving salts, One envoy's letters, six composers' airs, Both banish'd by the sovereign cordial “Waltz.' And loads from Frankfort and from Leipzig fairs; Seductive Waltz!-though on thy native shore Meiner's four volumes upon womankinil,

Even Werter's self proclaim'd thee half a whore; Like Lapland witches to ensure a wind;

Werter-to decent vice though much inclined; Brunck's heaviest tome for ballast, and to back it, Yet warm, not wanton ; dazzled, but not blind Of Heyne, such as should not sink the packet. Though gentle Genlis, in her strife with Stael, Fraught with this cargo-and her fairesi freight, Would even proscribe thee froin a Paris ball; Delightful Waltz, on tiptoe for a mate,

'Thee fashion bails-from Countesses to queans, 'The welcome vessel reach'd the genial strand, And maids and valets waltz behind the scenes ; And round her flock'd the daughters of the land. Wide and more wide thy witching circle spreads, Not decent David, when, before the ark,

And turns- if nothing else-at least our heads; His grand pas-seul excited some remark; With thee even clumsy cits attempt to bounce, Not love-lorn Quixote, when his Sancho thought and cockneys practise what they can't pronounce. The knight's fandango friskier than it ought; Gods! how the glorious theme any strain exalta, Not soft Herodias, when with winning tread And rhyme finds partner rhyme in praise of Her nimble feet danced off another's head;

“Waltz.'
Not Cleopatra on her galley's deck,
Display'd so much of leg, or more of neck,
Than thou, ambrosial Waltz, when first the moon Blest was the time Waltz chose for her debut;
Beheld thee twirling to a Saxon tune!

The Court, the Regent, like herself were new;
New face for friends, for foes some new rewards,

New ornaments for black and royal guards ;
To you—ye husbands of ten years! whose brows New laws to hang the rogues that roar' for bread;
Ache with the annual tributes of a spouse ; New coins (most new) to follow those that fled ;
To you, of nine years less—who only bear New victories-oor can we prize them less,
The budding sprouts of those that you shall wear, Though Jenky wonders at his own success:
With added ornaments around thein rollid, New wars, because the old succeed so well,
of native brass, or law-awarded gold;

That most survivors envy those who fell; To you, ye matrono, ever on the watch

New mistresses-no-old-yet 'tis true, To mar à son's, or make a daughter's match ; Though they be old, the thing is something new; To you, ye children of whom chance accordo Each new, qnite new-(except some ancient tricks); Always the ladies, and sometimes their lorde ; New white-sticks, gold-sticks, broon-sticks, all To you-yo single gentlemen! who seek

new etioks!

With vests or ribande-deck'd alike in hue, And thou, my Prince! whose sovereign taste New troopery strut, new turncoats blush in blue;

and will So saith the Muse-my--, what say you? It is to love the lovely beldamcs still ; Such was the time when Waltz might best maintain Thou, ghost of Q----! whose judging sprite Her new preferments in this novel reign; Satan may spare to peep a single night, Such was the time, nor ever yet was such, Pronounce-if ever in your days of bliss Hoops are no more, and petticoats not much; Asmodene struck so bright a stroke as this ; Morals and minuets, Virtue and her stays, To teach the young ideas how to rise, And tell-tale Powder-all have had their days. Flush in the cheek and languish in the eyes ;

The ball begins--the honours of the house Rush to the heart, and lighten through the frame, First duly done by daughter or by spouse,

With half-told wish, and ill-diesembled flame; Some potentate-or royal or serene

For prurient nature still will storm the breastWith K-t's gay grace, or sapient G-st-r's mien, Who, tempted thus, can answer for the rest ? Leads forth the ready dame, whose rising flash Might once have been mistaken for a blush. From where the garb just leaves the bosom free, But ye-who never felt a single thought That spot where hearts were once supposed to be; For what our morals are to be or ought ; Round all the confines of the yielded waist, Who wisely wish the charms you view to reap, The strangest hand may wander undisplaced ; Say—would you make those beauties quite 60 The lady's in return may grasp as much

cheap ? As princely paunches offer to her touch.

Hot from the hand promiscuously applied, Pleased round the chalky floor how well they trip, Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side ; One hand reposing on the royal hip;

Where were the rapture then to clasp the form, The other to the shoulder no less royal

From this lewd grasp and lawless contact warm ? Ascending with affection truly loyal ;

At once Love's most endearing thought resign, Thus front to front the partners move or stand, To press the hand so press'd by none but thine ; The foot may rest, but none withdraw the hand; To gaze npon that eye which never met And all in turn may follow in their rank, Another's ardent look without regret ; The Earl of Asterisk-and Lady-Blank; Approach the lip which all, without restraint, Sir-such a one-with those of Fashion's host, Come near enough-if not to touch-to taint; For whose blest surnames-vide “Morning-Post;" If such thon lovest-love her then no more, (Or if for that impartial print too late,

Or give-like her-caresses to a score ; Search Doctors' Commons six months from my Her mind with these is gone, and with it go date)

The little left behind it to bestow. Thug all and each, in movement swift or slow, The genial contact gently undergo ; Till some might marvel, with the modest Turk, Voluptuous Waltz! and dare I thusbalspheme? If “nothing follows all this palming work?" Thy bard forgot thy praises were his theme. True honest Mirza-you may trust my rhyme- Terpsichore forgive !-at every ball Something does follow at a fitter time;

My wife now waltzes-and my daughters shall; The breast thus publicly resign'd to man, My son (or stop-'tis needless to inquirela private may resist him-mif it can.

These little accidents should ne'er transpire ;
Some ages hence our genealogic tree

Will wear as green a bough for him as me), ye! who loved our grandmother of yore, Waltzing shall rear, to make our name amende, Fitzpatrik, Sheridan, and many more!

Grandsong for me-in heirs to all his friends.

N O T E s.

the General will one day return to his Sabine

farm, there As many votes as General T. (p. 773. State of the poll (last day) 5.

To tame the genius of the stubborn plain,

Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain ! Quam familiariter.

(p. 773.

The Lord Peterborough conquered continents My Latin is all forgotten, if a man can be in a summer; we do more-we contrive both to said to have forgotten what he never remembered ; conquer and lose them in a shorter season. If but I bought my title-page-motto of a Catholic the “Great Lord's " Cincinnatian progress in priest for a three, shilling. Bank-token, after agriculture be no speedier than the proportional inuch haggling for the even sixpence. I grudged average of time in Pope's couplet, it will, acthe money to a Papist, being all for the memory cording to the farmer's proverb, be "ploughing of Perceval and "No Popery;" and quite re- with dogs." gretting the downfal of ihe Pope, because we By the bye-one of this illustrious person's can't burn him any more.

new titles is forgotten-it is, however, worth

remembering-“salvador del Mundo!"--credite Muse of the many-twinkling feet! (p. 773. posteri! If this be the appellation annexed by “Glance their many-twinkling feet."-GRAY. the inhabitants of the Peninsula the name of

a man who has not yet saved them-query-are On Hounslow's heath to rival Wellesley's fame. they worth saving even in this world for, ac

(p. 773. cording to the mildest modifications of any ChrisTorival Lord Wellesley's, or his nephew's, as the tian creed, those three words make the odds reader pleases :—the one gained a pretty woman, much against them in the next.—“Saviour of the whom he deserved by fighting for and the other World," quotha !-it were to be wished that he, has been fighting in the Peninsula many a long or any one clse, could save a corner of it-his day, "by Shrewsbury clock, without gaining any country. Yet this stupid misnomer, although it thing in that country but 'the title of the Great shows the near connexion between Superstition Lord, and “the Lord," which savours of pro- and Impiety, so far has its use, that it proves fanation, having been' hitherto applied only to there can be little to dread from those Catholics that Being, to whom “Te Deums" for carnage (inquisitorial Catholics too) who can confer such are the rankest blasphemy.-It is to be presumed | an appellation on a Protestant. I suppose nert

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