Pore Nature is dragged in to partisapate in his joys, just as she has been befor.

Once in a poem, this universle simfithy is very well; but once is enuff, my dear Barnet: and that once should be in some great suckmstans, surely,--such as the meeting of Adam and Eve, in "Paradice Lost," or Jewpeter and Jewno, in Hoamer, where there seems, as it were, a reasn for it.

But sea-captings should not be eternly spowting and invoking gods, hevns, starrs, angels, and other silestial influences.

We can all do it, Barnet; nothing in life is esier.

I can compare my livry buttons to the stars, or the clouds of my backopipe to the dark vollums that ishew from Mount Hetna; or I can say that angels are looking down from them, and the tobacco silf, like a happy sole released, is circling round and upwards, and shaking sweetness down.