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 professedly my votaries, and, indeed, are professedly the contrary. But there is one most inveterate foe of the new philosophy, known by the name of Common Sense, and till he can be destroyed, the new philosophy will never be fully established. Miss Twostools can bring every page of her works, and her mother about seven-eighths of hers, to bear witness of their hostility to Common Sense. Admirable in that view is the story of an old Lord, who supposes himself to have a wolf in his belly; no less admirable the many adventures of his grandson, who, to be fitted for the peerage, was committed to the care of the clerk of the parish, and met so many marvellous adventures as never did, or could happen to any human being. Mrs. and Miss Twostools are both too weak for the mitre; but for their good-will may be appointed bell-women to the