“Was it the squire, for killing of his game? or Covetous parson, for his tithes distraining? Or roguish lawyer, made you lose your little All in a lawsuit? “(Have you not read the Rights of Man, by Tom Paine?) Drops of compassion tremble on my eyelids, Ready to fall, as soon as you have told your Pitiful story.” KNIFE-GRINDER. “Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir, Only last night a-drinking at the Chequers, This poor old hat and breeches, as you see, were Torn in a scuffle. “Constables came up for to take me into Custody; they took me before the justice; Justice Oldmixon put me in the parish- -Stocks for a vagrant. “I should be glad to drink your Honour’s health in A pot of beer, if you will give me sixpence; But for my part, I never love to meddle With politics, sir.” FRIEND OF HUMANITY. “_I_ give thee sixpence! I will see thee damned first— Wretch! whom no sense of wrongs can rouse to vengeance— Sordid, unfeeling, reprobate, degraded, Spiritless outcast!” [_Kicks the Knife-grinder, overturns his wheel, and exit in a transport of Republican enthusiasm and universal philanthropy._] No. III. Nov. 30, 1797. We have received the following from a loyal correspondent, and we shall be very happy at any time to be relieved, by communications of a similar tendency, from the drudgery of Jacobinical imitations. THE INVASION;[11] OR, THE BRITISH WAR SONG. _To the Tune of_ “Whilst happy in my native land”. I. Whilst happy in our native land, So great, so famed in story, Let’s join, my friends, with heart and hand To raise our country’s glory: When Britain calls, her valiant sons Will rush in crowds to aid her— Snatch, snatch your muskets, prime your guns, And crush the fierce invader! Whilst every Briton’s song shall be, “O give us Death—or Victory!” II.