64 Thoughts on the Purification of Gibbon, S:c. [ Jury, 
« they lay like authors. going to rest,” with their “well-known garments 
round them. You do, my worthy readers, by this time see daylight, 
and doubtless are aware that I allude to the profanations now just be- 
ginning amongst the favourites whom we have so long taken to our very 
hearts and bosoms. Yes, the accursed kettle is on—the enchanters are 
at work stirring up the furnace, and not only Shakspeare, Hume, and 
Gibbon, &c. &c. are to be melted down, and every warm word laded out 
and thrown into the mixen, but the demon has seized with his malignant 
wand—or hook rather—the friend and. moralist of our better days, and 
dragged. the kind, the dutiful, and charitable Goody Two-Shoes into 
the cauldron. 
I thought atleast this popular little volume would have been saved from 
mutilation and alteration, to go down to future ages in all its native glory. 
It is a library in itself—no churchwarden or overseer should be without 
it—so deeply is the image of the affecting heroine graven in our hearts, 
that even the casual mention of her name, will at times produce the 
most powerful emotions. We see her standing on the threshold of Far- 
mer Smith’s door, as it used to beso ably represented by Mr. Newbery’s 
wood-cuts—we hear the tender little Smiths accost her in. their broken 
tongue—we feel the cold nose of the interesting dog who was her com- 
panion in the pulpit at the never-to-be-forgotten funeral of Mr. Smith, 
Reader, I quote from memory—it might not be Mr. Smith, but that is 
of no moment—there was a funeral, and surely there cannot be a finer 
or more perfect painting, or any writing that has so magical an effect upon 
us as Goody Two Shoes. ¢ 
After contemplating this outrage, we do of course look upon the pro- 
jected refinement of Shakspeare—the dismemberment of Hume—the 
purification of Gibbon, with cooler and far different feelings. Yet, if I 
remember right, Shakspeare was certainly one of those beings who new- 
strung the fibres of the heart, and made us “ throw physic to the dogs;” 
—and how would his own mother ever recognize the English historian 
again, when he appeared in her paths with amputated limbs, and the 
viscera withdrawn from his body? | $50 
Purify Gibbon, too, from his sensuality! If they could deliver us 
from his affectations by the same process—with all our souls. rin 
But it cannot be; both the one and the other are mingled up with his 
vitality, and lay in his bones and marrow. But I am growing warm, Mr, 
Editor: and well I may, for when once the reformer’s fingers have handled 
and separated the carcase, it changes colour—the decomposition is begun ; 
the salt, the sweet, the acid, the balsamic and peculiar flavour is gone, 
Yet, if there be “‘no law in Venice” to stay the carnage, why let us 
give up a part to preserve the rest. Take Gibbon, Hume, Shakspeare, 
Boyle—but leave us our own familiar friend “ Goody Two-Shoes”—leave 
her for the sake of future beadles and parish officers—for the sake of our 
children and children’s children—It is the jewel and the flower of the 
good fairy—Leave her in her village dress, and, “thou most particular 
creature,” leave her with her slipshod feet. ‘on 
I am, Sir, yours, &c., 
GH 
Xe on rea TRE 
