he never courted controversies or quarrels, and his best friends
understand perfectly his love for a peaceable career. But when that
flippant sheet, known as _Rees's American Encyclopedia_, comes out with
a violent attack upon PUNCHINELLO'S past life and present course, the
assault is such as would provoke a retort from any honest man. The vile
insinuation that PUNCHINELLO is printed and published for the sole
purpose of making money out of its subscribers and the reading public in
general, is too mendacious for refutation; and when the reckless editor
of the periodical in question gravely announces that he can never read
PUNCHINELLO without laughing at its contents, it will be readily seen
that he goes so far as to make use of the truth to serve his wicked
purposes. But the descent which this shameless conductor of a journal,
confessedly the organ of our ignorant masses, has made into the private
life of PUNCHINELLO, is without precedent. He states that for the first
fourteen years of his life, PUNCHINELLO was, to all intents and
purposes, a person of little or no fortune, and that he depended
entirely upon his parents for support; that, until he had reached his
fifth birthday, he had absolutely no knowledge of English literature,
and was entirely ignorant of even the rudiments of the classics; that he
never paid one cent of income tax at that period of his life; and that
his belief in the fundamental principles of political economy was, at
that time, doubted by all who knew him best! Are such statements as
these to be submitted to by a man of honor? Never! PUNCHINELLO dares the
recreant editor of the dirty sheet to do his worst! Of that base man he
could tell much which would render him unfit for the association of any
person living, but he forbears. This much, however, he will say. It is
well known that the said calumniator did, at many periods of his life,
make use of the services of a _calceolarius_. Think of that, freemen of
America! He has often been known to submit to indignities, such as
nose-pulling from the hands of a common _tonsor_, and has been
frequently in such a condition that he could not appear in public
without the assistance of a _sartor_! Is it fitting that a high-toned
journalist should engage in petty recriminations with such a one?
"Revenge," says JAMES MURDOCK, "is the sweetest morsel cooked in its own
gravy, with _sauce moyennaise_." "Yes," said Dean SWIFT, "and let us
have some, and a little gi