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selves in regard to a turkey: but here it is, "Staffordshire Bill-crammer of turkeys-makes them eat any thing." Heaven help us! If that is not a crammer, we are badly off indeed! but ere it comes to our turns with these very Catholic gluttons, do, Mr. Peel, persuade them to try at the National Debt, or Wilmot Horton's Emigration Report, or Lord Palmerston's reductions, or Lord Ellenborough's wit-if they can swallow any one of these things, then we shall fairly give in and own that Staffordshire Bill is not a bit of a crammer, or the first crammer, in or out of Parliament, whichever he prefers.

How delicious is the style of George Robins in his advertisements! how flowery his language! how rich, copious, and luxuriant his descriptions!" A mansion seated," not standing like vulgar mansions, but "seated on a beautiful lawn "-the lawn is thus identified with the house-a sort of cottage-chair for the mansion to repose in (they must be sadly off for cellar-room); " adorned by luxuriant cedar-trees, plantations, and shrubberies." Pretty! "Kitchen-garden, walled and clothed with the choicest fruit-trees-stocked, cropped, and planted." Stocked, clothed, and cropped, what can one desire more, but that it had been in Ireland, where the Croppies want stockings and clothing sadly? Then," the premises are in excellent and very complete order." Mathews's Frenchiman, with his "excellent, pretty-well," is scarcely inferior. In another advertisement, the anti-Johnsonian auctioneer, speaking of an estate, informs us " that there is a very gentlemanly villa upon it." Really! I know some members of Parliament it would suit admirably, as they then might boast of possessing something "gentlemanly." Why did not Mr. Robins add "peculiarly well adapted for Government Secretaries returning from our colonies, Treasury Clerks, Custom-house Officers, or Police Magistrates?" But I think the condescending courtesy of the Auctioneer yet better than his style, as I read "Mr. Robins has great pleasure in submitting this Church Preferment to the attention of the public." He may have what pleasure he likes, but I am sure the Beresfords, and a hundred others, would have still greater pleasure in "submitting" to any "church preferment" the Government, or Mr. Robins, may please to inflict upon them.

"But in this free country," as Sheridan observes, God forbid that style should be confined to the "stylish" of the land, and that the lower orders should not assert their rights to it. I am really glad to see that even the butchers, in their announcement of an intended meeting to oppose the construction of Abattoirs, have most properly put in their elaim to it. "All butchers interested in the killing cattle, sheep," &c. "Killing" indeed! and how interesting! We used to sympathise with the sheep, but now, like the first Lord Clive's, our affections are enrolled on the side of the butchers. Then, with what contempt we used to regard dustmen and scavengers! who would have ever thought one of that tribe would have attained the honours of Chancery? "The Creditors of James Gardiner, late of Paddington Wharf, Scavenger and Dustman," are summoned to appear "before Master Trower to prove their debts." "This is much by the father!" as Lancelot Gobbo would say; but really, after butchers, scavengers, and dustmen, we had better resort to the perfumes and cosmetics of Mr. Rowland-let us apply to his Kalydor, "the vital sustainment of female loveliness," as the ingenious

inventor has it. After that, Mr. Charles Phillips, you can scarcely show your head-"French" is nothing to it.

The treatment of the Irish Catholics, (the slaves of the Protestants, O'Connell terms them,) and the want of toleration in their masters, if justly reproached to us as a nation, is contradicted in very many individual instances, one of which may be found in the Chronicle of the 13th of February, wherein is the following advertisement: "Servant of all work wanted in a Protestant's family." One would rather suppose, after the annunciation of the family's religious character, a Papist would be the last person who should apply, but no such thing: "she must be a Roman Catholic;" but that is not all," and be able to give a reference," not to her last place, but "to a priest of her church;" and that not as to her qualifications in trundling, scrubbing, grate polishing, and other lay occupations, but "as to the strict performance of all her religious duties," mass, vespers and all, "particularly confessions." Really, Mr. Peel, what do you think of these Catholic securities! the Veto here is to the prejudice of the Protestant interest, and in favour of the Catholics. Now if this be not the most tolerant Protestant family we have ever heard of, then Mr. Fyler, the ribband man, is not a wit; the Duke is not minister, and his brother, the Marquis, not out of favour. But this is not all, for so careful is the family about the religious observances of the proposed "servant of all work," that there comes a postscript, "A Catholic chapel is in the neighbourhood." Really, without "the family" had hired a Jesuit as chaplain to the lady of all work, I cannot see what more could have been done; and they might have imported one from France cheap just now, since M. de Villele has gone out, and Royer Collard has assumed his functions.

That the King never dies is a most constitutional axiom, and that our present Monarch may long live is the prayer of all his subjects. I was therefore much horrified, some years since, in observing on an Undertaker's sign, near Russell Place, the announcement of his being "coffinmaker to his Majesty and all the Royal Family." It has, I believe, since been taken down; and this lie in law, this illegal fiction, happily expunged. "Tiffin, Bug-destroyer to his Majesty," if he profess an indelicate, at least it is an useful and lawful occupation; but if he hold a place by patent, I would advise an action against Thomas, the inventor of the patent brass bedsteads in Long-acre, ere his Majesty patronize the same.

The foreign journals afford little of the entertainment to be derived from the notices in English papers; but in the rage for new newspapers in London, I see one referred to by a German paper, of which I was not before aware. Speaking of M. Rabbe's "Histoire d'Alexandre de Russie," it reports that the English journal, "The Times," had most unjustly calumniated the German Universities; but its representations had been admirably refuted by that excellent London paper "The Opposition's Blatt!"

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1697 T A HINT TO RETIRING CITIZENS.

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YE Cits who at White Conduit House,
Hampstead or Holloway carouse,

Let no vain wish disturb ye'
For rural pleasures unexplored,

Take those your Sabbath strolls afford,
And prize your Rus in urbe.

For many who from active trades
Have plunged into sequester'd shades,
Will dismally assure ye,

That it's a harder task to bear
Th ennui produced by country air,
And sigh for Urbs in rure.

The cub in prison born and fed,
The bird that in a cage was bred,
The hutch-engender'd rabbit,
Are like the long-imprison'd Cit,
For sudden liberty unfit,
Degenerate by habit.

Sir William Curtis, were he mew'd
In some romantic solitude,

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A bower of rose and myrtle,
Would find the loving turtle-dove
No succedaneum for his love

Of London Tavern turtle..

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Sir Astley Cooper, cloy'd with wealth,' 'revi
Sick of luxurious ease and health,

And rural meditation,

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Sighs for his useful London life,
The restless night the saw and knife
Of daily amputation.

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Habit is second nature-when

It supersedes the first, wise men
Receive it as a warning,

That total change comes then too late,
And they must e'en assimilate

Life's evening to its morning.

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Thrice happy he whose mind has sprungua 9.1+ te
From Mammon's yoke while yet unwrung, The 30 Mit
Or spoilt for nobler duty faceof agri súl
Who still can gaze Nature's

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7 From prison, City, care set free, da
He tastes his present liberty

With keener zest and relish.

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1

RAMBLES IN NEW SOUTH WALES.

LETTER X.

In my last I gave you some account of the desirable country connecting Bathurst on the north with Hunter's River, by Mudgié, Daby, Pylong, &c.; we will now, if you please, take a short trip to the south of Bathurst, up Campbell's River. It is the junction of this with the Fish River which forms the great and interesting river Macquarie.

We were rather late in starting from the pseudo-town of Bathurst, having been detained by the difficulty of procuring a new shoe for one of our horses, as well as a heavy but welcome storm of rain. Our time was not, however, altogether lost, as we were entertained with an excellent dinner, &c. by my worthy and intelligent friend M. It was here I tasted, for the first time, a bottle of excellent Bathurst ale, superior to any thing of the kind made in Sydney, and quite equal to that brewed in Hobart Town, which I consider is no small praise. I don't know the name of the Bathurst brewer, but I would caution him against the druggist's shop; the excellent barley and hops of his neighbourhood requiring no assistance from Quassia or Coculus Indicus. In a fine grain country like Bathurst, no settler should be without a cask of home-brewed; this would materially abate that restless desire for ardent spirits, which runs through the working population, and which supports in this part of the country one licensed publican, and about ten unlicensed ones, to the great loss and annoyance of the respectable settlers; and which they can only hope to see abolished by the constant vigilance of a permanent Police Magistrate.

As we mounted our horses, I could not help taking another and last look at the gentle Macquarie, which murmured at our feet, and which excites so much interest from its unknown termination.

"Flow on, thou shining river,

But, ere thou reach the sea,
Pray tell us, shall we ever

Know what becomes of thee?"

We galloped across the Government farm and the beautiful and clear country called Queen Charlotte's Valley, for about five or six miles, when, getting into the forest country, we soon arrived at the ford over Campbell's River, and stopped for the night at Mitchell's Plains. On the return of daylight, this beautiful little spot showed to the greatest advantage: the placid and peaceful lake at the bottom, covered with wild-fowl, not being the least prominent feature in the view. Fine as a New South Wales morning is in general, a Bathurst sunrise cannot be surpassed in summer-time. A strong breeze comes off the mountains during the night, and refreshes the open plains with the most agreeable coolness. The wheat lands in this district, although not extensive, are highly productive. I saw twenty-eight stalks, the produce of a single grain; and à settler assured me, last season he had thrashed fifty-eight bushels from five pecks of seed wheat! Our horses having wandered off the farm during the night, a constant misery in this uninclosed country, we were compelled to halt until they were found, which was not until late in the day, they having gone on a visit to the Government mares, some eight or nine miles. This prevented us seeing George's Plains ; a very rich, and, as I was told, beautiful tract of country on the west side of the Campbell. This is an interesting river, and runs through a hilly, thinly timbered, sheep country. There are few resident settlers, the good spots being occupied as stations, and the persons in charge of the stock living the life of Dutch cattle-boors, in the remote districts of the Cape of Good Hope. We slept or rather stopped at one of these craals, as they might be called, at the head of Campbell's River; the owner of which carried his hospitality too far, by refusing to go to bed the whole night. Between twelve and one o'clock, at midnight, we were surprised at the arrival of two friends, on horseback, who had lost themselves in crossing the country, and, although

well mounted, had been five or six hours in coming a dozen miles. They had lost themselves in a place called Dead Man's Valley,' which obtained its horrid name from five of Mr. men, several years ago, being attacked here by the black natives, and murdered, mangled, and scalped. Lord Byron somewhere says

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods"

but we settlers know better; and, having tried both, prefer the turnpikeroad. When we came to look about us in the morning, for it was dark when we got in the preceding night, we could not see our hands before us for the fog, and it was so excessively cold that we could scarcely be induced to leave the fire. This was in the height of summer, the month of February. The fog dispersed about eight o'clock, and we saw we were getting again into the mountains; vast lofty hills, and narrow slips of valley of small extent, though fertile, forming the character of this highland district. The cattle which one of our party had purchased, and expected to see here, were all out dispersed towards Balubula, and the banks of the Lachlan, and could not be seen without many days labour and loss of time. The style of country and of living, in this distant region, having no particular attractions, and not being provided for bushing it in these early frosts, we made up our minds to return.

Near the head of Campbell's River, in the direction of the Lachlan, there is a small part of the country known by the name of the "Wild Horse.' When the Commissioner travelled from Bathurst to Argyle, in October 1820, one of the baggage horses was so much hurt as to be rendered useless, and after distributing his load among the other horses, he was let loose and abandoned, and the travelling party proceeded on their journey. The horse recovered, and may now be seen in the same place where he was abandoned, fat and sleeky, though perfectly wild, with his tail sweeping the ground in the most majestic manner. He is thought never to leave his little domain, of about two miles diameter, which is the cause, no doubt, of his excellent condition, as he has been constantly seen by different parties, and always near the same spot. He gallops off at the sight of man or horse, and prefers his freedom to all the trappings of civilization.

It is here, in this bleak and distant country, that cattle-stealing has flourished, undetected, and unknown; and where it has become a sudden source of wealth to the most undeserving and obscure persons. Thinly scattered over a wide and difficult country, the entire population has hitherto only consisted of men in charge of great herds of cattle, seldom visited by the owners; and with no leaven of respectable residents to keep them in check, these stockmen have lived hail-fellow-well-met with each other, in the utmost gaiety, while in the idle and solitary vacancy of a herdsman's life, some of them have deserted their companions, and evinced a love of letters quite remarkable. A predilection for such studies, you will say, has frequently signalized the pastoral life; but don't be deceived, it is not a Fergusson, a Burns, or an Ettrick Shepherd, that we can boast of in our remote pastures at the source of the Lachlan. If we have any Helicon, it is, I think, nearer the capital. The learned leisure and studies of these Bathurst stockmen, of which it may be truly said, " non impediunt foris-peregrinantur, rusticantur," is confined to the alphabet, and all their research and ingenuity is how to alter the brand marks on their neighbour's property. A bit of iron-hoop, made hot, and applied to a cow's side, soon alters a C or a G into an O or a Q; and while a B, an M, a W, and R, oppose considerable difficulties, and excite the highest flight of genius, an easy conquest is gained over your F's, your I's, L's, O's, P's, T's, and V's.

Thus are bits of old iron tortured in the kitchen fire to effect their guilty purposes; it is the only precious metal, in the eyes of these deluded men, at all essential in acquiring their ill-got wealth. Another plan, with those cattle-stealers, is to drive away from their pastures any cows nearly ready to calve; and, as soon as the calf is two months old, to return the mother back

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