TO my beloved EQUATOR.--Circumspice. Ungrateful Paris is dead; noble Achilles resuscitated, and no longer vulnerable, even in his heel, sits astride the Equator, and bids defiance, even on his own element, to great Neptune himself. On to the State affairs. “Domine, dirige nos.”--E. J. W. 390.--_Monday, November 1, 1852._ S lmpi at C. qgnl. F. pil pink C. klmh B qigk. F. qmlh to Roker, omnl ikpg hkoq C nhgq. & B qkim F. qmkg qmp, ikho mioq mp the B. qlpm F. olhi C ongh F. olq npi C qgnl lnho, F kol to be F lhok S oqln, the F. pkgo. C. pmlq F. pngk S. niql 14th F, npkq to be F. hpl. S. onkl, by the F. ignp of C ikgp. S. lmpi in F hnio & C lhma omgk F. qmkg omnl qoip C. knho F oing npkl.--J. de W. 391.--_Monday, November 1, 1852._ FLYBYNIGHT WANTS the ANCHOR. It was expected all last week, and will be every night this week. Come or write. Silence added to absence is a cruel and unnecessary torture. 392.--_Wednesday, November 3, 1852._ SINCE “FRIDAY MORNING” I _Die_ hourly. Where are you, and when will you return?--J. S. 393.--_Thursday, November 4, 1852._ A LA CROIX ROUGE.--Victoire. C’est fait. Soit. “Dieu me la donne, et gure à qui la touche.”--E. J. W. 394.--_Friday, November 5, 1852._ CIRCUMSPICE.--Corruption falls or I fall. “Il est trop tard.”--E. J. W. 395.--_Monday, November 8, 1852._ MY STAR AGAINST the ENTIRE WORLD! Neither the golden mountain nor the choicest beauty of Circassia shall ever sway my allegiance to my country. Richelieu. The pillars of corruption shall fall.--E. J. W. 396.--_Wednesday, November 10, 1852._ FLYBYNIGHT WANTS the ANCHOR.--My dearest friend, you have solved this problem wrongly, and are like Sisogenes, who made the error in the Julian Calendar, which led to very ridiculous results. I will now play Pope Gregory the 13th with you and set you right. Pride clothed in humility was merely a means to an end--the reintegration of outraged justice and the re-adjustment of her scales--and that end will be accomplished.--E. J. W. 397.--_Thursday, November 11, 1852._ FLYBYNIGHT WANTS the ANCHOR. A kingfisher has stolen the Ring of it, and Flybynight will founder.--E. J. W. 398.--_Friday, November 12, 1852._ VENTRE-à-TERRE.--Robb----o. Pardon. Thanks. Prove this false.--“Tis hard to wine and thrive both in a year.”--S. 399.--_Monday, November 15, 1852._ FLYBYNIGHT WANTS the ANCHOR. My dearest friend, the meanest garret in my native place, the eternal city, mighty London, is dearer to me than any palace, from the purple waves of the Mediterranean to the murky atmosphere of the Baltic. Pride, clothed in humility, though gifted with the beautiful eyes of Napoleon, on the same degree of longitude that made his fire new-stamped honour pass current, and though possessed of Aladdin’s wonderful lamp, will never sway me from my allegiance to my country--Richelieu. The pillars of corruption must fall.--E. J. W. 400.--_Tuesday, November 16, 1852._