ar, showed many symptoms of a fatal knock-up. The rider himself was
well tired, too, and stopped at an ale-house for a moment's
refreshment, while he left the jaded beast standing at the door. As he
remounted his saddle, a few minutes after, he seized his reins
briskly, flourished his whip (both like Sir Robert), and
exclaimed:--"I've had two glasses of spirits.--Let us see if you won't
go after that."

[Illustration]

"THE INCOME TAX."

Among the many singular objections which have been made to the new
property tax, I find Mr. C. Buller stating in the House, that his
greatest dislike to the project lay in the exceedingly small amount of
the impost.

"My wound is great because it is so small,"

might have been the text of the honourable and learned gentleman's
oration. After setting forth most eloquently the varied distresses of
the country--its accumulating debt and heavy taxation--he turns the
whole weight of his honest indignation against the new imposition,
because, forsooth, it is so "little burdensome, and will inflict so
slight an additional load upon the tax-payer." There is an attempt at
argument, however, on the subject, which is somewhat amusing; for he
continues not only to lament the smallness of the new tax, but the
"slight necessity that exists" even for that. Had we some great
national loss to make up, the deficiency of which rendered a call on
the united people necessary, then, quoth he, how happily we should
stand forward in support of the Constitution. In fact, he deplores, in
the most moving terms, that ill off as the country is, yet it is not
one-half so bad as it might be, or as he should like to see it. Ah!
had we only some disastrous Continental war, devastating our
commerce--ruining our Colonies, and eating into the very heart of our
national resources--how gladly I should pay this Income Tax; but to
remedy a curable evil--to restore, by prompt and energetic measures,
the growing disease of the State--is a poor, pettifogging practice,
that has neither heroism nor fame to recommend it. I remember hearing
that at one of those excellent institutions, so appropriately
denominated Magdalen Asylums, a poor, but innocent girl, presented
herself for admission, pleading her lonely and deserted condition, as
a plea for her reception. The patroness, an amiable and excellent
person--but somewhat of the complexion of the honourable and learned
Member for Liskeard--asked at once, whether sh