As it ne'er waved but o'er the free and bold
Pray Heaven it never may.
Still let its course to Fraud and Force
Strike terror from the air;
Still let its sight to down-trod right
Bring hope upon despair.
HOW WE ARE OFF FOR SOAP!
If any one asks us how we are off for soap it is pleasant to be able to answer the question in the most satisfactory manner. We happen to be extremely well off for soap, in consequence of the kindness of some eccentric individuals who are always sending us by post certain penn'orths of specimens of saponaceous matter, with which they invite us to shave ourselves. We have lately received in a letter a bit of something which we are told will cover our face with "a lather like thick white paint, over which the razor will glide;" but as we don't want a razor to glide over our beard, we hesitate to try the experiment. The gratuitous soap is accompanied by the prospectus of a perfume, which "never becomes faint," and a preparation for the hair, which makes it "soft and glossy for ever." We are quite sure that the individual who sent the announcement to us can have no notion of the disorderly haycock which does duty on the top of our poll for a head of hair, or he would never undertake to render it "permanently," or even for one moment "soft and glossy."