Village

,—is a collection of two or three miserable huts, whose wretched inhabitants can but just keep their clay in an animated state, by the scanty pittance of the coarsest and most unnutritive diet. However small the village is, one locust of society at least you are sure of meeting, and one temple of Ignorance at least you are certain, erects its grisly and monkish head above the woods and plantations of the Squire, in which temple the name of the God of Peace is invoked again and again to go forth with “our Fleets and Armies,” and to “give us the power over our enemies” by their destruction. Oh God! Oh God! Is this humanity? But hold my impious tongue—it is Christian charity.