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Au. Capital ! splendid ! Secretary. Yes, gentlemen, and I am happy to announce that a most kind friend has proposed to write a Welsh translation adapted to the air, so that it shall be heard, on Cambria's lyre, from the Wye to the Conway; this will be the amende honorable to those exclusive, but well-meaning folks who will puzzle their brains to know what could induce us to print an English song, however beautiful.
Doctor. Beautiful indeed; but pray, my dear professor, who is this Ina?
Doctor. What countrywoman may she be? for well we know, friend Northwold, thou hast travelled widely.
Northwold. She was born, and has ever lived, beneath the bright and burning son of Spain; and well I ween that in that land of love's true witchery, there breathes not a more beauteous and truly lovely woman. (The Professor heaves a deep sigh, which is echoed by a deeper one from the Doctor.)
Doctor. Northwold I bonour thy feelings; right well I know their nature. Here, in this glass of bright Bordeaux, I pledge thee, to the health of Ina.
Au. “To the health of Ina.”
Northwold, (draining his glass.) My friends, my heart is full: I cannot speak my thanks.
Colonel. Although our object for discussion, this night, is the Gwyneddigion, I must digress for a moment:- I am, as you well know, none of the gravest, yet even I have a graver charge to make than any thing I could adduce against men who act from principle, however mistaken. Two or three persons in London, I find, have been sneaking about, worming their way most dishonestly, accusing us of the Cambrian of that which is totally devoid of truth, viz. of being illiberal towards the Dissenting church in Wales; the charge is froth, an outpouring of wickedness and folly; but it must be checked in its outset. Do the worms know that we are in possession of their names? and that, had we published a brutal attack on the bishops, recently sent to our secretary, and which we have reason to suspect came from the same polluted quarter, we should have subjected our work to immediate suppression, and ourselves to the abhorrence of all good men. Think for a moment, gentlemen, on the base ingratitude of some men; while we were assisting one of these fellows in his profession, he, viper like, attempted to undermine us, and sting us for our kindness. The man has abilities, and so has Satan, and, like him, he has fallen. How unworthy is be of recognition in the ranks of the Dissenters, to which he is as poison in the well! I would hope this person is not aware of the miserable tendency of conduct like his; however, I will be bold enough to declare that the man who, at the present eventful time, seeks to promote disunion among Christians, is scarcely less dangerous than the absolute anti-Christian,-nay, than the utter outcast, the abject caricaturist of his God!
Northwold. I agree with you entirely. Possibly the world, in its multitudinous occupations, may have forgotten, although I have not, that some time ago, the leader of infidels in London had exbibited in the window of his shop, a hideous monster, intended to represent a fiery and infernal demon, with the blasphemous words, "Jews and Christians behold your god!”
AN. Horrible! dreadful!
Northwold. Yes, gentlemen, dreadful indeed; and by chance, a worthy venerable pastor of the Church from, I rather think, my own county, happening to pass by “the Temple of Reason!” as it is called, stopped, out of curiosity, to look for a moment at the window; he was struck with awe at such a tremendous display of impiety, and, losing all command of temper towards its infamous perpetrator, he dashed his stick through the glass exclaiming, “ In the name of my Saviour, this shall not be suffered.”
Colonel. Exemplary and brave man! bow worthy was he of his calling; would that I had been there with a few file of my old regiment, to have seconded his effort, to bave dismantled that repositary of every thing that is brutal, and to have tied its vile owner up to the halberds, until he had recanted very syllable of his diabolical doctrines.