to live on; 190 Ef it aint jest the thing thet’s well pleasin’ to God, It makes us thought highly on elsewhere abroad; The Rooshian black eagle looks blue in his eerie An’ shakes both his heads wen he hears o’ Monteery; In the Tower Victory sets, all of a fluster, An’ reads, with locked doors, how we won Cherry Buster; An’ old Philip Lewis—­thet come an’ kep’ school here Fer the mere sake o’ scorin his ryalist ruler On the tenderest part of our kings in futuro—­ Hides his crown underneath an old shut in his bureau, 200 Breaks off in his brags to a suckle o’ merry kings, How he often hed hided young native Amerrikins, An’ turnin’ quite faint in the midst of his fooleries, Sneaks down stairs to bolt the front door o’ the Tooleries.[22] You say, ‘We’d ha’ seared ’em by growin’ in peace, A plaguy sight more then by bobberies like these’?  Who is it dares say thet our naytional eagle Won’t much longer be classed with the birds thet air regal, Coz theirn be hooked beaks, an’ she, arter this slaughter, ’ll bring back a bill ten times longer ‘n she’d ough’ to? 210 Wut’s your name?  Come, I see ye, you up-country feller, You’ve put me out severil times with your beller; Out with it!  Wut?  Biglow?  I say nothin’ furder, Thet feller would like nothin’ better ’n a murder; He’s a traiter, blasphemer, an’ wut ruther worse is, He puts all his ath’ism in dreffle bad verses; Socity aint safe till sech monsters air out on it, Refer to the Post, ef you hev the least doubt on it; Wy, he goes agin war, agin indirect taxes, Agin sellin’ wild lands ’cept to settlers with axes, 220
Agin holdin’ o’ slaves, though he knows it’s the corner
Our libbaty rests on, the mis’able scorner! 
In short, he would wholly upset with his ravages
All thet keeps us above the brute critters an’ savages, An’ pitch into all kinds o’ briles an’ confusions The holl of our civerlized, free institutions; He writes fer thet ruther unsafe print, the Courier, An’ likely ez not hez a squintin’ to Foorier; I’ll be——­, thet is, I mean I’ll be blest, Ef I hark to a word frum so noted a pest; 230 I sha’nt talk with him, my religion’s too fervent.  Good mornin’, my friends, I’m your most humble servant.

[Into the question whether the ability to express ourselves in articulate language has been productive of more good or evil, I shall not here enter at large.  The two faculties of speech and of speech-making are wholly diverse in their natures.  By the first we make ourselves intelligible, by the last unintelligible, to our fellows.  It has not seldom occurred to me (noting how in our national legislature everything runs to talk, as lettuces, if the season or the soil be unpropitious, shoot up lankly to seed, instead of forming handsome heads) that Babel was the first Congress, the earliest mill erected for the manufacture of gabble.  In these days, what with Town Meetings, School Committees, Boards (lumber) of one kind and another, Congresses, Parliaments, Diets, Indian Councils,