As for Æacus, and his coining business, we must even let them alone now, till next year; only I have to thank some readers who have written to me on the subject of interest of money, (one or two complaining that I had dismissed it too summarily, when, alas! I am only at the threshold of it!), and, especially, my reader for the press, who has referred me to a delightful Italian book, 'Teoremi di Politica Cristiana,' (Naples, 1830,) and copied out ever so much of it for me; and Mr. Sillar, for farther most useful letters, of which to-day I can only quote this postscript:-- "Please note that your next number of 'Fors Clavigera' ought to be in the hands of your readers on Friday, the 1st, or Saturday, the 2nd, of November. The following day being Sunday, the 3rd, there will be read in every church in England, or in the world, where the Church Service is used, the 15th Psalm, which distinctly declares the man who shall ascend to God's holy hill to be him who, amongst other things, has not put forth his money upon usury; a verse impiously ignored in most of the metrical versions of the Psalms; those adapted to popular tunes or popular prejudices." I think, accordingly, that some of my readers may be glad to have a sounder version of that Psalm; and as the 14th is much connected with it, and will be variously useful to us afterwards, here they both are, done into verse by an English squire,--or his sister, for they alike could rhyme; and the last finished singing what her brother left unsung, the Third Fors having early put seal on his lips. PSALM XIV.--(Dixit insipiens.) The foolish man by flesh and fancy ledd, His guilty hart with this fond thought hath fed: There is noe God that raigneth. And so thereafter he and all his mates Do workes, which earth corrupt, and Heaven hates: Not one that good remaineth. Even God himself sent down his piercing ey; If of this clayy race he could espy One, that his wisdome learneth. And loe, he findes that all a strayeng went: All plung'd in stincking filth, not one well bent, Not one that God discerneth. O maddnes of these folkes, thus loosly ledd! These caniballs, who, as if they were bread, Gods people do devower: Nor ever call on God; but they shall quake More than they now do bragg, when he shall take The just into his power. Indeede the poore, opprest by you, you mock: Their councells are your common jesting stock: But God is their recomfort. Ah, when from Syon shall the Saver come, That Jacob, freed by thee, may glad become And Israel full of comfort? PSALM XV.--(Domine, quis habitabit.)