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A BRONZE INKSTAND, PRESENTED FROM ROME WITH THE FOLLOWINO LINES

To the Editor.

No more the praises of their Vesta's name

The tuneful voices of her maids inspire-
No more the white-robed virgins fan the flame,

And watch with pious zeal the deathless fire-
Of all the glories of that sainted fane,
Those antique columns now alone remain!
But recollections linger round their base,

Like flow’rs that grow on some forgotten grave;
Unmark’d, unknown, that lowly resting place,

Bat for the clue their summer fragrance gave!

C. J.

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PREFACE,

This Second Volume of the Table Book concludes my endeavours of this nature. My engagement was to continue the work so long as the public continued to be pleased. I have gone a little further in justice to my readers, who might have felt disappointed had the volume not been concluded. I have cause to regret its commencement.

The Table Book, like the Every-Day Book, is undeformed by blemishes that would render it unfit for the Family Table. This, its praise in particular, is, to the public in general, a defect, in a work of low price and humble pretension. It has likewise the disadvantage of containing some things of higher reach, and more literary merit than usually fall to such a publication: it “flies too much over men's heads”—is a little too much in advance of the “march of intellect." I supposed that a sheet so filled, “ with engravings—every Saturday -price threepence,” would sell to an extent that would leave something weekly to its conductor: I erred.

January, 1828.

W. HONE.

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