And ev'n amid their dreadest foes

Feel less of peril than repose!

And thus-oh! thus! no more deceived---
Worn out, tamed, baffled, and bereaved,
From all our young life loved self-banished;
The glory from the dull wing vanished;
Bowed by the distance, and the gale,
The hardest faint, the boldest fail.
Whate'er the spot that proffers rest
We drop-the Victim or the Guest ;
And after all our wanderings past,
Feel Death has something sweet at last.

END OF CHAPTER II. BOOK I.

BOOK THE FIRST.

CHAPTER III.

ARGUMENT.

Address to "the British Fair"-The character of Hodges more fully developed-His felicitous project-Its success with Fiam-Fiam's character vindicated; and an unfortunate habit in the private life of that gentleman publicly exposed-The unjust and frivolous tattle of the Fashionable Circles in Bancok-The conversation of the Twins, and the design therein, unfolded-Lines on the ancient Magians-Their pretended successors-The adventurous expedition of the brothers, with all they saw by the way-The Hindoo Temple-Its mysterious tenantThe incantation, and the prophecy.

CHAPTER III.

You know those queer old Novels found in
Some Watering Place's Athenæum,
A marble, motley coat, half bound in,

And oh! so thumbed- I think I see 'em!--
All about love, Ma'am, and the "Major,"
We Novel-wrights have now grown sager.
Majors, indeed !—the vulgar churls !—
We make your lowest flirters Earls.
You know the books I mean-too full
Of curious phrases to be dull.
Their oddities respect bespeak,

Like images grotesque on China;
If manly, writ by "Captain Meek,”
If moving-why, by "Jane Selina ;”
Mid these, my fairer readers, you

May note at times the charming writer

Improves his tone, and at some new

Chapter, grows suddenly politer; Makes female excellence his care, And dashes off, "Ye British Fair!"

This plan resolved to follow him in,
Hear me one word, sweet country women!
I hear a certain novel lately

Sent forth by me, displeased you greatly;
You thought the gentry of the road
Should choose their words more à-la-mode;
You felt indignant that such ug-

Ly words my vulgar folks should utter,
And Peggy Lobkins, of " the Mug,"
Be less refined than Lady Flutter ;-
And you were right I must allow,
But I will mend my manners now,

Bid Nature seek some other place,

Paint man no more-but sketch "his Grace ;"

Mince truth like any other Mister

And shrink, smirk, drivil into L—r.

Soft sex, I yet recall the hours

When ye gave life its only flowers;
Nor truant hope once pass'd the ground,
To which your smiles had set the bound.
And shall I now forego the dream,

That ev'ry mortal bard hath fired;