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Oh Love 1 what is it in this world of ours,

Which makes it fatal to be loved ? Ah why

With cypress branches hast thou wreath'd thy bowers,

And made thy best interpreter a sigh !

As those who doat on odours, pluck the flowers,

And place them on their breast—but place to die—

Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish

Are laid within our bosoms, but to perish.

Byron.

An enquiry having been ordered into the affairs of the Begums by the directors of the East India Company, Mr. Hastings had contrived to stifle that enquiry by silencing the council at Calcutta by this expression, ' The majesty of justice must be approached with solicitation.' This Mr. Sheridan treated as a piece of bombastic jargon, and thus proceeded, " The majesty of justice, in the eyes of Mr. Hastings, was a being of terrific horror—a dreadful idol placed in the gloom of groves, accessible only to cringing supplication, and which must be approached with offerings, and worshipped by sacrifice. The majesty of Mr. Hastings was a being whose decrees were written with blood, and whose oracles were at once obscure and terrible. From such an idol I turn my eyes with horror; I turn them here to this dignified and high tribunal where the majesty of justice, really sits enthroned. Here I perceive the majesty of justice in her proper robes of truth and mercy —chaste and simple—accessible and patient—awful without severity—inquisitive without meanness. I see her enthroned, and sitting in judgment on a great