flute at eight o'clock
every Saturday evening, and I will play and sing it at the same time,
and I will fancy that I hear my dear papa accompanying me.

The people in London said very unkind things of you: they hurt me very
much at the time; but now I am out of their way, I do not seem to think
their opinion of much consequence. I am sure, when I recollect, at
leisure, everything I have seen and heard among them, I cannot make out
what they do that is so virtuous, as to set them up for judges of
morals. And I am sure they never speak the truth about any thing, and
there is no sincerity in either their love or their friendship. An old
Welsh bard here, who wears a waistcoat embroidered with leeks, and is
called the Green Bard of Cadair Idris, says the Scotch would be the best
people in the world, if there was nobody but themselves to give them a
character: and so I think would the Londoners. I hate the very thought
of them, for I do believe they would have broken my heart, if I had not
gone out of their way. Now I shall write you another letter very soon,
and describe to you the country, and the people, and the children, and
how I amuse myself, and every thing that I think you will like to hear
about; and when I seal this letter, I shall drop a kiss on the cover.

Your loving daughter,

SUSANNAH TOUCHANDGO.

P.S. Tell Mr. Robthetill I will write to him in a day or two. This is
the little song I spoke of:

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
My heart is gone, far, far from me;
And ever on its track will flee,
My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the sea.

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
The swallow wanders fast and free:
Oh! happy bird, were I like thee,
I, too, would fly beyond the sea.

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
Are kindly hearts and social glee;
But here for me they may not be:
My heart is gone beyond the sea.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

* * * * *

THE AUTOCRAT'S PRAYER.

Europe! hear the voice that rose
From the chief of Freedom's foes--
When he bade war's thunders roll
O'er the country of the Pole--
To his Cossacks on parade
Thus the Calmuck robber said:

"Mine the might, and mine the right,
Stir ye, spur ye to the fight--
Bare the blade, and strike the blow
To the heart's core of the foe--
Slaughter all the rebel bands
Found with weapons in their hands;
On! th