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Thus saying, the Ghost, as he took his flight,

Gave a Parthian kick to the Benthamite, Which sent him, whimpering, off to Jerry

And vanisht away to the Stygian ferry!

ALARMING INTELLIGENCE! REVOLUTION IN THE DICTIONARY -ONE GALT AT THE HEAD OF IT.

GOD preserve us! - there's nothing now safe from assault;

Thrones toppling around, churches brought to the hammer;

And accounts have just reached us that one Mr. Galt

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Now, he raves of a bard he once happened to meet,

Seated high 66
among rattlings "
churning a sonnet ;

and

Has declared open war against Eng- Now, talks of a mystery, wrapt in a

lish and Grammar !

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sheet,

With a halo (by way of a nightcap) upon it! 5

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Resolved that Hooper,1 Latimer,2
And Crammer, all extremely err,
In taking such a low-bred view
Of what Lords Spiritual ought to do: -
All owing to the fact, poor men,
That Mother Church was modest then,
Nor knew what golden eggs her goose,
The Public, would in time produce.
One Pisgah peep at modern Durham
To far more lordly thoughts would stir
'em.

Resolved that when we Spiritual Lords
Whose income just enough affords
To keep our Spiritual Lordships cosey,
Are told by Antiquarians prosy

Dissenter remarks" Surely they had a wonderful opinion of their Service Book that there was not a tittle amiss in it."

1 "They," the Bishops, "know that the primitive Church had no such Bishops. If the fourth part of the bishopric remained unto the Bishop, it were sufficient. - On the Commandments,

p. 72.

2" Since the Prelates were made Lords and Nobles, the plough standeth, there is no work done, the people starve." - Lat. Serm.

3 "Of whom have come all these glorious titles, styles, and pomps into the Church. But I would that I, and all my brethren, the Bishops, would leave all our styles, and write the styles of our offices," etc.- Life of Cranmer, by Strype, Appendix.

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4 Part of the process of embalmment.

5 The Book of Sports drawn up by Bishop Moreton was first put forth in the reign of James I., 1618, and afterwards republished, at the advice of Laud, by Charles I., 1633, with an injunction that it should be "made public by order from the Bishops." We find it therein declared, that "for his good people's recreation, his Majesty's pleasure was, that after the end of divine service they should not be disturbed, letted, or discouraged from any lawful recreations, such as dan

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'Or should we be for a pole hard driven, "Some lengthy saint of aspect fell, "With his pockets on earth and his nose in heaven,

"Will do for a May-pole just as well. "Then hurrah for the Bishops, hurrah! hurrah!

"A week of work and a Sabbath of play

"Make the poor man's life run merry away."

To Andy, who does n't much deal in history,

This Sunday scene was a downright mystery;

And God knows where might have ended the joke,

But, in trying to stop the fiddles, he woke. And the odd thing is (as the rumor goes) That since that dream which, one would suppose,

Should have made his godly stomach rise, Even more than ever, 'gainst Sunday

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Besides, (as 't is well proved by thee,
In thy own Works, vol. 93.)
The march, just now, of population
So much outstrips all moderation,
That even prolific herring-shoals
Keep pace not with our erring souls.1
Oh far more proper and well-bred
To stick to writing books instead;
And show the world how two Blue lovers
Can coalesce, like two book-covers,
(Sheep-skin, or calf, or such wise
leather,)

Lettered at back and stitched together
Fondly as first the binder fixt 'em,
With naught but literature betwixt

'em.

SUNDAY ETHICS.

A SCOTCH ODE.

PUIR, profligate Londoners, having heard tell

That the De'il's got amang ye, and fearing 't is true,

We ha' sent ye a mon wha 's a match for his spell,

A chiel o' our ain, that the De'il himsel Will be glad to keep clear of, one Andrew Agnew.

So at least ye may reckon for ane day entire

In ilka lang week ye 'll be tranquil eneugh,

1 See "Ella of Garveloch."-- Garveloch being a place where there was a large herring-fishery, but where, as we are told by the author, "the people increased much faster than the produce."

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Wae, wae to a' sinners who boil an' who stew!

"Wae, wae to a' eaters o' Sabbath-baked pies,

"For as surely again shall the crust thereof rise

"In judgment against ye," saith Andrew Agnew!

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Laught, whistled, groaned, uproariously Count the rooks that, in clerical dresses,

facetious

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Flock round when the harvest 's in play,

And not minding the farmer's distresses, Like devils in grain peck away.

Go, number the locusts in heaven,4

On the way to some titheable shore; And when so many Parsons you 've given We still shall be craving for more.

1 Come, Cloe, and give me sweet kisses,
For sweeter sure never girl gave;
But why, in the midst of my blisses,
Do you ask me how many I'd have?

2 For whilst I love thee above measure,
To numbers I 'll ne'er be confined.

3 Count the bees that on Hybla are playing, Count the flowers that enamel its fields, Count the flocks, etc.

4 Go number the stars in the heaven,
Count how many sands on the shore,
When so many kisses you 've given,
I still shall be craving for more.

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