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can't forgive you entirely to-night, because I'm angry when people waken me without notice, but to-morrow morning I certainly will; or, if that won't do, you shall forgive me. No great matter which, as the conclusion must be the same in either case, viz., to kiss and be friends."

of martyrs, those men were sublime-not less, as cowards, not more as martyrs; for the cowardice that appeared above, and the courage that lurked below, were parts of the same machinery.

But another feature of sublimity, which it surprises one to see so many coarse-minded men unaware of, lies in the self-perpetuation and phoenixlike defiance to mortality of such Societies. This feature it is that throws a grandeur even on a humbug, of which there have been many examples, and two in particular, which I am soon going to memorialise. Often and often have men of finer minds felt this secret spell of grandeur, and laboured to embody it in external forms. There was a phoenix-club once in Oxford (up and down Europe there have been several) that by its constitution grasped not only at the sort of immortality aspired after by Phoenix Insurance offices, viz. a legal or notional perpetuation, liable merely to no practical interruptions as regarded paying, and à fortiori as regarded receiving money, but otherwise fast asleep every night like other dull people-far more faithful, literal, intense, was the realisation in this case of an undying life. Such a condition as a "sede vacante," which is a condition expressed in the constitutions of all other societies, was impossible in this, for any office whatever. That great case was realised which has since been described by Chateaubriand as governing the throne of France and its successions. " His Majesty is dead!" shouts a voice, and this seems to argue, at least, a moment's interregnum: not at all; not a moment's: the thing is impos

But the other strife, which perhaps sounds metaphysical in the reader's ears, then first wakened up to my perceptions, and never again went to sleep amongst my perplexities. Oh Cicero! my poor, thoughtless Cicero in all your shallow metaphysics not once did you give utterance to such a bounce as when you asserted, that never yet did human reason say one thing and Nature say another. On the contrary, every part of Nature-mechanics, dynamics, morals, metaphysics, and even pure mathematics-are continually giving the lie flatly by their facts and conclusions to the very necessities and laws of the human understanding. Did the reader ever study the Antimonies of Kant? If not, he has read nothing. Now, there he will have the pleasure of seeing a set of quadrilles or reels, in which old Mother Reason amuses herself by dancing to the right and left two variations of blank contradiction to old Mother Truth, both variations being irrefragable, each variation contradicting the other, each contradicting the equatorial reality, and each alike (though past all denial) being a lie. But he need not go to Kant for this. Let him look as one having eyes for looking, and everywhere the same perplexing phenomenon occurs. And this first dawned upon myself in the Baruel case. As Nature is to the human in-sible: simultaneous (and not successive) is the tellect, so was Baruel to mine. We all believe in Nature without limit, yet hardly understand a page amongst her innumerable pages. I believed in Baruel by necessity, and yet everywhere my understanding mutinied against his.

But in Baruel I had heard only of Secret Societies that were consciously formed for mischievous ends; or if not always for a distinct purpose of evil, yet always in a spirit of malignant contradiction and hatred. Soon I read of other Societies even more secret, that watched over truth dangerous to publish or even to whisper, like the sleepless dragons that Oriental fable associated with the subterraneous guardianship of regal treasures. The secrecy, and the reasons for the secrecy, were alike sublime. The very image, unveiling itself by unsteady glimpses, of men linked by brotherly love and perfect confidence, meeting in secret chambers, at the noontide of night, to shelter, by muflling, with their own persons interposed, and at their own risk, some solitary lamp of truth-sheltering it from the carelessness of the world, and its stormy ignorance-this would soon have blown it out-sheltering it from the hatred of the world, that would soon have found out its nature, and made war upon its life-that was superhumanly sublime. The fear of those men was sublime-the courage was sublime the stealthy thief-like means were sublime-the audacious end, viz., to change the kingdoms of earth, was sublime. If they acted and moved like cowards, those men were sublime; if they planned with the audacity

breath that ejaculates "may the King live for ever.”
The birth and the death, the rising and the set-
ting, synchronise by a metaphysical nicety of neck-
and-neck, inconceivable to the book-keepers of
earth. These wretched men imagine that the
second rider's foot cannot possibly be in the stir-
rup until the first rider's foot is out. If the one
event occurs in moment M, the other they think
must occur in moment N. That may be as re-
gards stirrups, but not as regards metaphysics.
I admit that the guard of a mail-coach cannot
possibly leave the post-office before the coachman,
but upon the whole a little after him. Such base
rules, however, find themselves compelled to
give way in presence of great metaphysicians—
in whose science, as I stoop to inform book-
keepers, the effect, if anything, goes rather
a-head of the cause. Now that Oxford club
arose on these sublime principles: no disease
like intermitting pulse was known there. No
fire, but Vestal fire, was used for boiling the
tea-kettle. The rule was-that, if once entered
upon the matricula of this amaranthine club,
thence forwards, come from what zone of the
earth you would-come without a minute's
notice-send up your card-Mr. O. P., from
the Anthropophagi-Mr. P. O., from the men
whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders

instantly you were shown in to the sublime presence. You were not limited to any particular century. Nay, by the rigour of the theory, you hady our own choice of millennium

Whatever might be convenient to you, was con-
venient to the club. The constitution of the club
assumed, that, in every successive generation,
as a matter of course, a President duly elected,
(or his authorised delegate) would be found in the
chair; scornfully throwing the onus of proof to the
contrary upon the presumptuous reptile that
doubted it. Public or private calamity signified
not. The President reverberated himself through
a long sinking fund of Surrogates and Vice-
Presidents. There, night and day, summer and
winter, seed-time and harvest, sat the august
man, looking as grim as the Princeps Senatus
amongst the Conscript Fathers of Rome, when
the Gauls entered on the errand of cutting their
throats. If you entered this club on the very
same errand, the President was backed to a large
amount to keep his seat until his successor had
been summoned. Suppose the greatest of revolu-
tions to have passed over the island during your
absence abroad; England, let us say, has even
been conquered by a polished race of Hottentots.
Very good an accomplished Hottentot will then
be found seated in the chair; you will be
allowed to kiss Mr. President's black paw; and
will understand that, although farewells might
be common enough, as regarded individual mem-
bers, yet by the eternal laws of this eternal club,
the word adjournment for the whole concern was a
word so treasonable, as not to be uttered without
risk of massacre.

the vagrant water-brooks of Wisdom, lest she might desert the region altogether, into the channels of some local homestead; to connect, with a fixed succession of descendants, the conservation of religion; to root, as one would root a forest that is to flourish through ages, a heritage of ancient truth in the territorial heritage of an ancient household. That sounds to some ears like the policy that founded monastic institutions. Whether so or not, it is not necessarily Roman Catholic. The same policy-the same principle-the sighing after peace and the image of perpetuity-have many times moulded the plans of Protestant families. Such families, with monastic imaginations linked to Protestant hearts, existed numerously in England through the reigns of the First James and Charles-families amongst the gentry, or what on the Continent would be called the lower nobility, that remembered with love the solemn ritual and services of the Romish Church; but with this love combined the love of Protestant doctrines. Amongst these families, and distinguished amongst them, was that of the Farrers."

The name of their patrimonial estate was Little Gidding, and, I think, in the county of Hertford. They were, by native turn of mind, and by varied accomplishments, a most interesting family. In some royal houses of Europe it was once a custom, that every son, if not every daughter, should learn a trade. This custom subsisted down to the days of the unhappy Louis The same principle in man's nature, the ever- XVI., who was a locksmith; and I was once aslasting instinct for glorifying the everlasting, the sured by a Frenchman, who knew him well, not impulse for petrifying the fugitive, and arresting so bad a one, considering (you know) that one the transitory, which shows itself in ten thousand cannot be as rough as might be wished in scoldforms, has also, in this field of secret confedera- ing a locksmith that one is obliged to address as tions, assumed many grander forms. To strive 66 your majesty." A majestic locksmith has a after a conquest over Time the conqueror, is already sort of right to be a bad one. The Farrers great, in whatsoever direction. But it is still adopted this custom, and most of them chose the greater when it applies itself to objects that trade of a bookbinder. Why this was a good are per se immortal, and mortal only as respects trade to choose, I will explain in a brief digression. their alliance with man. Glorification of heaven- It is a reason which applies only to three other litanies, chaunted day and night by adoring trades, viz. to coining, to printing books, and to hearts these will doubtless ascend for ever from making gold or silver plate. And the reason is this planet. That result is placed out of hazard, this-all the four arts stand on an isthmus, conand needs not the guarantee of princes. Some- necting them, on one side, with merely mechanic where, from some climate, from some lips, such crafts, on the other side, with the Fine Arts. This a worship will not cease to rise. But, let a was the marking distinction between the coinages man's local attachments be what they may, he of ancient classical days and our own. Our Euromust sigh to think that no assignable spot of pean and East Indian coins are the basest of all base ground on earth, that no nation, that no family, products from rude barbaresque handicraft. They enjoys any absolute privilege in that respect. are imagined by the man, some horrid Cyclops, No land, whether continent or island-nor race, who conceived the great idea of a horse-shoe, a whether free men or slaves, can claim any fixed inheritance, or indefeasible heirlooms of truth. Yet, for that very reason, men of deep piety have but the more earnestly striven to bind down, and chain their own conceptions of truth within the models of some unchanging establishments, even as the Greek Pagans of old chained down their gods from deserting them; have striven to train

*

"Chained down their Gods" :-Many of the Greek states, though it has not been sufficiently inquired which states and in what age, had a notion that in war-time the tutelary deities of the place, the epichorial gods, were liable to bribery, by secret offers of temples more splendid, altars better served, &c. from the enemy; so that a standing

danger existed, lest these gods should desert to the hostile camp; and especially, because, not knowing the rate of the hostile biddings, the indigenous worshippers had no guide to regulate their own counterbildings. In this embarrassment, the prudent course, as most people believed, was to chain the divine idols by the leg, with golden fetters.

forget, a separate memoir of this family, and published as "The Farrers."-There is, but by whom written I really a separate volume. In the county histories (such as Chauncy's, &c.) will also be found ske hes of their history. But the most popular form in which their memorials have been retraced is a biography of Nicholas Farrer, introduced into one of the volumes, I cannot say which, of the Ecclesiastical Biography-an interesting compilation, drawn up by the late Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, a brother of the great poet.

poker, and a tenpenny nail. Now, the ancient Who but idiots judge by the event? Much, therecoins were modelled by the same immortal artists fore, as I condemn the man's vanity, and the more that conceived their exquisite gems, the cameos so because he claims some murders that too proand intaglios, which you may buy, in Tassie's bably were none of his (not content with exaggeSulphurs, at a few shillings each, or for much rating his own, he absolutely pirated other men's less in the engraved Glyptothecæ. But, as to murders!) yet, when you turn from this walk of coining, our dear lady the Queen (God bless her!) art, in which he practised only as an amateur, to is so avaricious, that she will have it all to herself. his orféverie-then you feel the interval that diShe taboos it. She won't let you or me into the vides the charlatan from the man of exquisite smallest share of the business; and she lags us if genius. As a murderer, he was a poor ceature; we poach. That is what I call monopoly. And as an artist in gold, he was inimitable. Finally, I do wish her Majesty would be persuaded to read there remains book-binding, of which also one a ship-load of political economists that I could may affirm, that, being usually the vilest of point out, on the ruinous consequences of that handicrafts, it is susceptible of much higher vice, which, otherwise, it may be feared nobody effects in the enrichments, tooling, architecever will read. After coining, the next best ture, heraldic emblazonries, &c. This art Mr. trade is Printing. This, also, might approach to Farrer selected for his trade. He had travelled a Fine Art. When entering the twilight of do- on foot through Spain; and I should think it not tage, reader, I mean to have a printing-press in impossible that he had there seen some magnimy own study. I shall print some immaculate ficent specimens of book-binding. For I was once editions, as farewell keepsakes, for distribution told, though I have not seen it mentioned in any amongst people that I love; but rich and rare book, that a century before the date of Farrer's must be the gems on which I shall conde- travels, Cardinal Ximenes, when printing his scend to bestow this manual labour. I mean, great Complutensian Bible, gave a special enalso, to print a spelling-book for the reader's couragement to a new style of binding-fitted use. As it seems that he reads, he surely ought to for harmonising with the grandeur of royal spell. I hope he will not be offended. If he furniture, and the carved enrichments of gothic is, and dreadfully, viewing it as the most libraries.* This, and the other accomplishawful insult that man could offer to his brother ments which the Farrers had, they had in man, in that case he might bequeath it by will perfection. But the most remarkable trait in to his possible grandson. Two generations might the family character, was the exaltation of their wash out the affront. Or if he accepts, and fur- devotional feelings. Had it not been for their nishes me with his name, I will also print on a benignity and humility, they might have been blank leaf the good old ancestral legend-"A. B., thought gloomy and ascetic. Something there his book, Heaven grant him grace therein to look " was, as in thoughtful minds left to a deep rural As to Plate-making, it seems to rank with me- solitude there is likely to be, of La Trappism and chanic baseness; you think not of the sculptor, Madame Guyon Quietism. A nun-like aspiration the chaser, and their exquisite tools, but of Shef- there was in the females after purity and oblivion field, Birmingham, Glasgow, sledge-hammers, and of earth in Mr. Farrer, the head of the family, pincers. It seems to require no art. I think I a devotional energy, put forth in continual combat could make a dessert spoon myself. Yet the open- with the earthly energies that tempted him away ings which it offers are vast, wherever wealth to the world, and with all that offered itself under exists, for the lovelier conceptions of higher art. the specious name of public usefulness. In this Benvenuto Cellini-what an artist was he! There combination of qualities arose the plan which the are some few of his most exquisite works in this family organised for a system of perpetual worcountry, which may be seen by applying in the ship. They had a family chapel regularly conseright quarters. Judge of him by these, and not crated, as so many families of their rank still had by his autobiography. There he appears as a in England. They had an organ: they had vain, ostentatious man.* One would suppose, to means of forming a choir. Gradually the estabhear him talk, that nobody ever executed a mur-lishment was mounted: the appointments were der but himself. His own are tolerable, that's completed: the machinery was got into motion. all you can say; but not one of them is first-rate, or to be named on the same day with the Pope's attempt at murdering Cellini himself, which must command the unqualified approbation of the connoisseur. True, the Papal attempt did not succeed, and most of Cellini's did. What of that?

* When a murderer is thoroughly discased by vanity one loses all confidence in him. Cellini went upon the plan of claiming all eminent murders, suitable in point of time and place, that nobody else claimed; just as many a short poem in the Greek Anthologies, marked adespoton (or, without an owner), was sported by one pretender after another as his own. Even simple homicides he would not think it below him to challenge as his own. Two princes, at the very least, a Bourbon and a Nassau, he pretended to have stot; it might be so, but nobody ever came forward to corroborate his statement.

How far the plan was ever effectually perfected, would be hard to say. The increasing ferment of the times, until the meeting of the Long Parliament in Nov. 1640, and in less than two years after that, the opening of the great civil war must have made it absolutely impossible to adhere systematically to any scheme of that nature, which required perfect seclusion from worldly cares within the mansion, and public

*This was the earliest attempt at a Polyglot Bible, and had its name from the town of Complutum, which is, I think, Alcala de Henarez. The Henarez is a little rive Some readers will thank me for mentioning that the ac cent is on the first syllable of Complutum, the u in th renultimate being short; not Compultum but Compla

tum.

.

tranquillity outside.

which boasts a present and a future, as well as a past, is FREEMASONRY. Let me take a few liberties with both.

The Eleusinian humbug was for centuries the opprobrium of scholars. Even in contemporary

Not to mention that the Farrers had an extra source of molestation at that period, when Puritanism was advancing rapidly to a domineering station of power, in the public suspicions which unjustly (but not altogether unplausibly) taxed them with Popish lean-times it was such. The greatest philosopher, or ings. A hundred years later, Bishop Butler drew upon himself at Durham the very same suspicion, and in some degree by the very same act, viz., by an adoption of some pious symbols, open undeniably to the whole catholic family of Christian Churches, and yet equivocal in their meaning, because popularly appropriated from old associations of habit to the use of Popish communities. Abstracting, however, from the violent disturbances of those stormy times in the way of all religious schemes, we may collect that the scheme of the Farrers was-that the chapel services should be going on, by means of successive "reliefs" as in camps, or of "watches" as at sea, through every hour of the day and the night, from year to year, from childhood to old age. Come when you might, come in the dawning, come in the twilight, come at noonday, come through silent roads in the dead of night, always you were to be sure of hearing, through the woods of Little Gidding, the blair of the organ, or the penitential wail of the solitary choristers, or the glad triumphant burst of the full choir in jubilation. There was some affinity in Mr. Farrer's mind to the Spanish peculiarities, and the Spanish modes of grandeur; awful prostration, like Pascal's, before the divine idea; gloom that sought to strengthen itself by tenfold involution in the night of solitary woods; exaggerated impressions (if such impressions could be exaggerated) of human wretchedness, and a brooding sense of some unknown illimitable grandeur a sense that could sustain itself at its natural level, only by eternal contemplation of objects that had no end.

polyhistor, of Athens, or of Rome, could no more tell you the secret-the to aporeton (unless he had been initiated, in which case he durst not tell it)-than I can. In fact, if you come to that, perhaps I myself can tell it. The ancient philosopher would retort that we of these days are in the same predicament as to our own humbug— the Freemasons. No, no, my friend, you're wrong there. We know all about that humbug, as I mean to show you. But for what we know of Eleusis and its mummeries, which is quite enough for all practical purposes, we are indebted to none of you ancients, but entirely to modern sagacity. Is not that shocking, that a hoax should first be unmasqued when it has been defunct for 1,500 years? The interest which attaches to the Eleusinian shows, is not properly an interest in them, but an alien interest in accidents indirectly connected with them. Secret there was virtually none; but a mystery at length begins to arise-how it was that this distressing secret, viz., of there being no secret at all, could, through so many generations, pass down in religious conservation of itself from all profane curiosity of outside barbarians. There was an endless file of heroes, philosophers, statesmen, all hoaxed, all of course incensed at being hoaxed, and yet not one of them is known to have blabbed. A great modern poet, musing philosophically on the results amongst the mob "in Leicester's busy square," from looking through a showman's telescope at the moon, is surprised at the crowd of spectators going off with an air of disappoint

ment:

"One after one they turn aside; nor have I one espied,

That doth not slackly go away, as if dissatisfied." Yes, but I can tell him the reason of that. The fact is, a more pitiful sight for sight-seers, than our own moon, does not exist. The first man that

Mr. Farrer's plan for realising a vestal fire, or something beyond it, viz., a secrecy of truth, burning brightly in darkness-and, secondly, a perpetuity of truth-did not succeed; as many a noble scheme, that men never heard of, has been swept away in its infancy by the ruins of flood, fire, earth-showed me the moon through a glass of any power, quake, which also are forgotten not less completely than what they ruined. Thank Heaven for that! If the noble is often crushed suddenly by the ignoble, one forgetfulness travels after both. The wicked earthquake is forgotten not less than the glorious temples which it ruined. Yet the Farrer plan has repeatedly succeeded and prospered through a course of centuries, and for purposes of the same nature. But the strange thing is (which already I have noticed), that the general principle of such a plan has succeeded most memorably when applied to purposes of humbug. The two best-known of all Secret Societies, that ever have been, are the two most extensive monuments of humbug on the one side and credulity on the other. They divide themselves between the ancient world and the modern. The great and illustrious humbug of ancient history was, THE ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES. The great and illustrious humbug of modern history, of the history

was a distinguished professor of astronomy. I was so incensed with the hoax (as it seemed) put upon me-such a weak, watery, wicked old harridan, substituted for the pretty creature I had been used to see-that I marched up to him with the angry design of demanding my half-crown back again, until a disgusting remembrance came over me, that, being a learned professor the showman could not possibly have taken any half-crown, which fact also destroyed all ground of action against him as obtaining money under false pretences. I contented myself, therefore, with saying, that until he showed me the man in the moon, with his dog, lanthorn, and bundle of thorns, I must decline corroborating his fancy of being able to exhibit the real old original moon and no mistake. Endymion never could have had such a sweetheart as that. Let the reader take my advice, not to seek familiarity with the moon. Familiarity breeds contempt.

It is certain that, like the travellers through "Leicester's busy square," all the visiters of Eleusis must have abominated the hoax put upon them

decoying other novices, from A to Z. Next, after this feature of interest about the Eleusinian Teletai, is another which modern times have quickened and developed, viz., the gift of enormous nonsense, the inspiration of nonsense, which the enigma of these mysteries has been the fortunate means of blowing into the brains of various able men. It requires such men, in fact, to succeed as speculators in nonsense. None but a man of extraordinary talents can write firstrate nonsense. Perhaps the prince of all men, ever formed by nature and education, for writing The nasuperior nonsense, was Warburton. tural vegetation of his intellect tended to that kind of fungus which is called "crotchet;" so much so, that, if he had a just and powerful thought (as sometimes he had), or even a wise and beautiful thought, or even a grand one, by the mere perversity of his tortuous brain, it was soon This native tendency digested into a crotchet. of his was cultured and watered, for years, by his practice as an attorney. Making him a bishop was, perhaps, a mistake; it certainly stunted the growth of special pleading, perhaps ruined the science; on the other hand, it saved the twelve judges of that day from being driven mad, as they would have been by this Hermes Trismegistus, this born Titan, in the realms of La Chicane. Some fractions of the virus descended through the Warburtonian commentaries upon Pope, &c., corroding the flesh to the very bones, wherever it alighted. But the Centaur's shirt of W.'s malignity was destined for the Hebrew lawgiver, and all that could be made to fall within that field. Did my reader ever read the "Divine Legation of Moses "? Is he aware of the mighty syllogism, that single block of granite, such as you can see nowhere but at St. Petersburg, on which that elaborate work reposes? There is a Welsh bridge, near Llanroost, the birth-place of Inigo Jones, built by that architect with such exquisite skill, that the people astonished me (but the people were two milk-maids), by protesting that invariably a little breeze-footed Camilla, of three years old, in running across, caused the bridge to tremble like a guilty thing. So admirable was the equilli

66 nor have I one espied, That did not slackly walk away, as if dissatisfied." See now the different luck of hoaxers in this world. Joseph Ady is smoked pretty nearly by the whole race of man. The Continent is, by this time, wide awake; Belgium has refused to take in his letters; and the cruel Lord Mayor of London has threatened to indict Joe for a fraud, value twopence, by reason of the said Joe having seduced his lordship into opening an unpaid letter, which was found to contain nothing but an invitation from "yours respectfully"-not to a dinner partybut to an early remittance of one pound, for reasons subsequently to be disclosed. I should think, but there's no knowing, that there might be a chance still for Joe (whom, really one begins to pity, as a persecuted man-cruising, like the Flying Dutchman, through seas that have all closed their ports), in Astrachan, and, perhaps, in Mecca. Some business might be done, for a few years, in Timbuctoo; and an opening there would undoubtedly be found for a connexion with Abdel-Kader, if only any opening could be found to Abd-el-Kader through the French lines. Now, on the other hand, the goddess, and her establishment of hoaxers at Eleusis, did a vast "stroke of business" for more than six centuries, without any "unpleasantries"* occurring; no cudgels shaken in the streets, little incidents that custom (by making too familiar,) has made contemptible to the philosophy of Joe; no round robins, signed by the whole maindeck of the academy or the porch; no praetors or lord mayors threatening actions repetundarum, and mourning over twopences that had gone astray. "Misfortune acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows;" and the common misfortune of having been hoaxed, lowers the proudest and the humblest into a strange unanimity, for once, of pocketing their wrongs in silence. Eleusis, with her fine bronzed face, might say proudly and laughingly-"expose me, indeed!-why, I hoaxed this man's greatgrandfather, and I trust to hoax his great-grand-brium, that an infant's foot disturbed it. Unhapson; all generations of his house have been, or shall be hoaxed, and afterwards grateful to me for not exposing that fact of the hoax at their private expense.'

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There is a singularity in this case, of the same kind as that stratagem, (but how prodigiously exceeded in its scale,) imperfectly executed on the Greek leaders by the Persian Satrap Tissaphernes, but perfectly, in one or two cases, amongst the savage islands of the South Seas, upon European crews, when one victim, having first been caught, has been used as the means of trepanning all his comrades in succession. Each successive novice has been tamed, by terror, into an instrument for

"Unpleasantries' this is a new word, launched a very few years back in some commercial towns. It is generally used-not in any sense that the reader would collect from its antipole, pleasantry, but in a sense that he may

abstract context sentence above.

pily, Camilla had sprained her ancle at that time,
so that the experiment could not be tried; and
the bridge, to me, seemed not guilty at all (to judge
by its trembling), but as innocent as Camilla her-
self. Now, Warburton must have sought to rival
the Welsh pontifex in this particular test of archi-
tectural skill; for his syllogism is so divinely
poised, that if you shake this key-stone of his great
arch (as you certainly may), then you will become
aware of a vibration—of a nervous tremor-run-
ning through the entire dome of his divine lega-
tion; you are absolutely afraid of the dome coming
down with yourself in the centre; just as the Llan-
roost bridge used to be near going into hysterics
when the light-footed Camilla bounded across it.
This syllogism, on account of its connexion with
the Eleusinian hoax, I will rehearse: it is
the very perfection of a crotchet.
the major proposition to be this-That no reli-
Suppose

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