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MOON'S PLILASES. — OCTOBER, 1856. First Quarter 7th day, Oh. 58m. morning. W.

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Full Moon 13th day, 6h. 20m. evening. R.

Last Quarter 20th day, lh. 27m. evening. Ww.

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Literature.

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(From the North British Review for August, 1856.)

ee ee —— Chis is true Liberty,

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A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE AND NEWS,

1

0 advise the Public, man speak free ——evrripes.

CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1856.

\rich and cultivated’ poet, living in ‘St. James's Place, Lon-! Fox, and Burke and. Sheridan,

don, and digesting all into idea and reminiscence.

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[EDITOR anv PUBLISHER. No, 13.

—

Then, in the short peace, satisfy Boddington but that we should ride on horseback the {came the ministry of Addington; and then, from 1504 to; first stage from Calais; and, accordingly, to. the great

When Rogers opened his eyes in Stoke-Newington, and! 1806, the second ministry of Pitt, illustrated by Nelson's, anmusement of the inn-keeper and chamber-maid, we were fur- last victory, and closed by Pite’s death. The I ox-and-. nished with immense jack-boots, and hoisted upon our steeds, Grenville ministry came next, proving that even the Whigs, When we reached Paris, Lafayette gave us a general in-

his mother could think of nothing else for looking at him, | people round about who had not babies, and even his bankers!

=== fither, when he went to the city on business and forgot the! could not make peace with Napoleon ; then from 1807 to, vitation to dine with him every day. At his table we once baby, were talking about a great Peace of Paris then just) 1812, came the Tory ministry of Perceval, and the first ex-, dined with about a ddézen persons, (among them the Duke de /concluded,--a peace fully as important as that which we! ploits of Wellington in the Peninsula; and then, on Per- la Rochefouchauld, Condorcet, &c.,) most of whom after- “now, several months after the death of the said baby at the! ceval’s death, the memorable rule, which seemed as if it, wards came to an untimely end.”

Fox in his youth.—* Box, (in his earlier days, I mean,)

SAMUEL ROGERS AND.HIS TIMES.

Recollections of the Table Talk of Samet Rogers.

Bdition. London, Moxon, 1856. | Britain, his solitary ally, which had subsidized him, and

age of ninety-three, are also talking about so busily under | : : ithe same name. By that Peace of Paris, the Seven Years’| Waterloo and the Congress “of* Vienna had-relieved this | War was terminated; Frederick, as the great man of the | Second #g@, Was set free to rule over Prussia in quiet glory ; and | fought on his side both with armies and fleets igitoat!

Samuel Rogers was born on the 30th of July, 1763, and, France, Austria, Spain, Russia and Sweden combined, found | died on the 15th of December, 1855. What he was in him-| herself retiring from the strugzle with a whole retinue of| abundantly vindicated by the appearance of sueh organs as/himself,as his friends sometimes feared, but—to sit down self, and what he did in the literature of his country during; new colonies and dependencies acquired during it,—India |

this unusually long life of ninety-three years, is tolerably well | hers by the conquest of Clive, Canada hers by the victory

Sheridan, Fitzpatrick, &c., led such a life! ‘Lord Tanker- ministry from the cares of War, afd set the nation afloat, | ville assured me that he has played cards with Fitzpatrick with about 800 millions of debt to impede her progress, on ‘at Brookes’s, from ten o’elock at night till near six o’elock a long voyage of peace and commerce, the Muses begun to | next afternoon, a waiter standing by to tell them ‘ whose breathe again. Other poets, indeed had been prolific even | deal it was,’ they being too sleepy to know. After losing during the war, and the interests of literature had been | large sums at hazard, Fox would go home,—not to destroy

would be eternal, of Liverpool and Castlereagh. When |

the Edinburgh and the Quarterly; but Rogers had only | quietly and read Greek. When I became acquainted with twice, aud in both cases modestly evough, intruded himself) Fox, he had given, up allthis. kind of Jife entirely, and re-

known. He first appeared as an author in the year 1786, | of Wolfe, a vast region to the left of the Mississippi added | on public attention, while the war lasted, The Liverpool-. sided in the most perfect sobriety and regularity at St. when, at the age of twenty-three, he published An Ode to to her former American possessions south of Canada, several | and-Castlereagh ministry, carrying on the history of the) Anne’s Hill,”

Superstition, and some other Poems. In 1792 he published | West Indian islands hers, and more pieces of the African his Pleasures of Memory, by whieh, and by a subsequent! coast made over to her than’ she knew what to do with, volume containing Ax Epistle to a Friend and other Poems, | This, in fact, was the epoch when Britain ceased to be a published in 1795, he established his place among the men of mere kingdom, and became an empire. ‘The change had been letters who adorned Britain in the closing decade of the} the work of one man—Chatham. He it was who, called to eighteenth century. During a periodvof fourteen years he the chief ministry at the close of the reign of George IT., gave nothing new to the world, either to increase or to mar) while the Seven Years’ War was going on, had breathed his his reputation, Inthe course of this long interval of silence, | electric magnanimity into the counsels of the nation, hud he had changed his mode of life, hy retiring from his heredi- sent his soul abroad in our ships and regiments, and, clinging tary business as a London banker, to enjoy, with the help of |to the great Frederick, as a kindred spirit with wHitim the ample wealth which that business had already secured for | Britain ought to rise or fall, and for the first time since him, a leisure absolutely at the command of his private | Marlborough and his victories, had roused her to deeds that tastes. The house of Rogers in St. James's Place became) the world called splendid. Two years before the Peace of a little paradise of the beautiful, where, amid pictures and which we speak, however,—Creorge Li. at the age of twenty-

; ] *T o>» 7} " . 4 > "> e . * . ’ . . other obiects of art, collected with care and arranged with four, having in the meantime succeeded his grand father on |

skill, the happy owner nestled in fastidious ease, and sustained, | the throne,—-Chatham had’ retired “frou office ta make way

country during the first seven years of the Peace—that is,| «What Fox saiil of Burke.—‘ Fox once suid'to mo that through the whole of the Regeney, and two years into the ‘Barke was a most impracticable person, a@ most un- reign of George 1V.—carried Rogerson to his sixtieth | manageable colleague,—that he never would support any year, and counted his duman Life and the first of his Italy measure, however convinced he might be in his heart of its among its literary fruits. This was the day of conspiracies, | utility, if it had’ been. first. proposed by another; and be corresponding societies, prosecutions for sedition, and the |onee. used these very words, * After all, Burke was a d—d Queen Caroline agitation, The Liverpool-Canning rule suc- | wrong-headed fellow, through bis whole life jealous and ob+ ceeded, with its more liberal foreign, poliey, consummating | stinate.” eI

itself in the premiership of Canning, when hopes ran so high Pit and Dundas.—* Daring his boyhood, Pitt was very (1827.). In one short year Canning dies, Gederich does his} weakly; and his: physician, Addington, (Lord Dismouth’s best, aud we have the iron. Duke and. Peel for our chief) father,) ordered him to take pert winesin large quantities ; statesmen, Catholic emancipation is wrung cven from the the consequence was, that, when he grew up, he could not man of iron; but George TY dis, and William IV. ac-| do without it. Lord) Grenville has seen him swallow a

cedes, and there is stil] no chance for that Parliamentary | bottle of port in tumberfuils before going to the House. Reform which forty-five years before Pitt himself had pro-| This, together with the habit of cating: late suppers, (in- ‘mised. Again, however,.comes. the blast of Revolution from | digestible e6ld veal pies, &e.,) helped undoubtedly to shorten

through two whole generations of contemporaries, a character iu which something of the Horace was blended with something of the Macenas. Tili 1812, indeed, all but his intimate friends might have supposed that his muse was dead ; but in that year he proved the contrary by adding to a republication of his earlier pieces his little poem of Columbus He was then in his fiftieth year; buat this was not to be the last of his literary appearances. Composed with the same laborious slowness, and polished line by iine to the same degree of smoothness, his Jacgueliae was published in 1814, and his Human Life in 1319. Finally, as the last, and much the longest of his productions, came his Ita/y, the first part of which was published in 1822, in the poet’s sixtieth year, and the complete edition of which, illustrated, under the author’s care, at an expense of ten thousand pownds, by Stothard, Prout, and Turuer, did not appear till 1836. With the pre- paration of this exquisite book his literary carcer may be said to close. He still wrote au occasional copy of verses at the rate of a couplet in a week, and some of these trifles, including one written as late as his nivety-first year, are pre- served in his collected works. But, upon the whole, it was in his character as a superannuated poet, living on the repu- tation of his past performances, drawing the artists, and wits, and men of rank of a more modern age around him, dispens- ing among them the elegant hospitalities of his mansion, and entertaining them with his caustic talk and his reminis- cences of the notal)le persons and events of former days, that he figured among us, or rather in a select portion of London society, during the last twenty years of his existence. He did many kind things, and said many bitter ones. Almost to the last year of his life he trudged about in the open air, and was pointed out in the parks, or in a box at the upera, as old Rogers. He used to give young men excellent advice, founded on his own experience, as to the best means of pre- serving their health and spirits. Altogether he was a re- markable relic of the past; and an invitation to one of his breakfasts was valued as an opportunity of seeing and hearing much that could not be seen or heard elsewhere, ‘There were a few persons who were specially intimate with him, and who cu'tivated his society as that of a diminutive patriarch, who had wisdom, or at least information, that would die with him. Among these was Mr. Dyce, the eminent editor and annotator of so many of our early English poets. The present selection from Mr. Dyee's memoranda of Rogers's * Tuble-Talk” may be regarded as the best record posterity is likely to have of the poet as he was in his old age, aud apart from his poetry.

The Table-Talk will strengthen the opinion, which most people will have at any rate formed, that however consider- able may have been Rogers's owu literary merits, the chief interest in him arises from his social position combined with his longevity. Any man who lives ninety-three years is’ re- tnarkable,—mueh wore a poet who lives ninety-three years, —and more still, a poet who lives ninety-three years in the very centre of the social and literary activity of his country, and in possession of such means@s enzbles him to be in cordial and even influential relations with it all. Ninety- three years! Why, it ie no insignificant bit of the entire duration of the world! Seventy Samuel Rogerses, at this rate, might shake bands in an unbroken ckain up to Adam ; twenty would connect us with the commencement of the Christian era; nine would take us back, with room to spare, to the date of the Norman conquest; and three linked together would reach into the age of Shakespeare. What

for meaner men. At the time of Rogers's birth and infancy, the Bute influence was paramount at the court of the young

ostensible minister. Then in rapid succession during the next seven years, came the first Rockingham ministry, the second but merely nominal Chatham ministry, the Grafton ministry and the North ministry,—the last of which, coming into office in 4770, when Rogers was in his seventh year, | rewained in office till 1782, when he was verging on nine-| teen. During all these successive ministries, Britain was

sovereign, though Grenville had succeeded Bute as the | with the Jaords for the Reform-Bill. At the age of seventy,

France, (July, 1830.;) Earl Gray arid his Whigs supersede Wellington and his Tories; and there is two, years’ struggle

Rogers sees the happy arrival.of the ration im its promised Canaan, through the carrying of this Bill, (1852 ;) and he sets about the illustration of his Jta/y. Alas! the old,man, lives to hear it confessed that what seemed Qanaan was but a political wirage, . Not to speak of sixteen years of con- tinued alteration between Whig and Conservative ministries, —an era marked by the notoriety of such mames as Peel,

under the curse of a pediling politics. The impulse of the

in other respects, the age of political greatuess had gone, and that of mere Parliamentary polemies bad succeeded. The nation felt this, and was uniformly hostile to the King and his successive ministries. What, in fact, were the

first Chatham administration still, to some exteut, remained | by such events as Lrish uguation, the accession of Queen in her,—personified above all in Warren Lastings, who, left | Victoria, Rebellion in Canada, the Disruption of the Scottish to himself in the Kast, was. completing, on bis own re-| Church, wars in India and China, and Corn-Law Repeal, — sponsibility, the conquest of India for his countrymen, But, Rogers lives to hear. in his eighty-sixth year, of a third out-

Brougham, G’Connell, Melbourne, Loid John Mussel, and

burst of Reyolution in Franee, and: to: mark its effects in thrones again tottering, peoples again shouting, aud armies again marching and counterwarching all over Kurope. - Nay, beyond 1848 and its changes, the old mau lives to mark

questions which then agitated Britain? They were the | changes following changes ;—a new Napoleon on the throne questions of * Wilkes aud Liberty,” and of the discontent | of France, an Anglo-French alliance, and a coalition of of the American colonies. The first wretched question had| Europezn powers to arrest the growth of Russia, and pre- begun when Rogers was in his eradle,—for it was pre-| vent dismemberment of Turkey. He hears of the death of cisely in 1763 that Wilkes was called to account for the! Nichclas, of the battles of Alnia and Inkermann, of British

seditious No. 42 of the North Briton ; but it was not over when Rogers had reached his boyhood. During the first bine or ten years of his life, the nation was talking in- cessantly of Wilkes, Wilkes,—this name a!so was the watch- word of the Parliamentary opposition; and it was in the midst of this precious controversy that Junius came upon the scene wearing his iron mask. The only relief from the Wilkes question was the question of the American -re- |bellion. Begun in 1764, when the taxation of the Colonies was resolved on by the Grenville ministry, this question grew and grew, intertwining itse!f with that of Wilkes, until actually in 1775, under the dogged ministry of North, the Colonies did take up arms. Then the Wilkes question was finally engulphed, and the war of American Independence became the all-engrossing topic. At the commencement of this war, Rogers, as a boy of twelve, was old enough to feel an interest in it. At all events, when, after lasting eight ycars, with little else than the Mad Gordon Riots of 1780 to distract attention from it, the war was concluded in 1783, by the reluctant consent of Geerge IIL. to acknowledge the \independence of the Colonies, Rogers, as a clever youth of twenty, could appreciate the importance of that event, and of the consequent organization of the Transatlantic Republie under the presidency of Washington. During the year or two that followed, there was little in British politics to in- terest Rogers or anybody else. In 1784, Pitt the younger, at the age of twenty-five came into power, ending the two | years of confusion which had intervened since the resignation lof North, and full of schemes of Parliamentary Reform, ‘and of other great measures such as might befit the policy

‘of one who was determined to be remembered in British

history as a great finance minister. Then in 1786 came the episode of the trial of Warren Hastings, with all its accom- paniments of Indian debate and reform. It was into the midst of this contest of the best rhetoric of the time against ‘its best genius of action, that Rogers ventured to send forth his first tiny volume of elegant verse. A year or two more, ‘and, lo! a convulsion which shook the world, and in relation |to which, aught that Rogers or any other yersifier could do a million times more irrelevant! Pitt, too, was out in his

valour proved, without a Wellingtou to order it in new fields, At length fatigued with very excess of life, and not waiting to hear of that Pacification of Paris, of which people were abou: to talk as vigorously as they had talked of a former Pacification of Paris when he was born, he shut his languid eyes, and bade farewell to the world.

Surely, in the political order alone, this was a sufficient medley and duration of facts for one man to have lived through. Not a man of strife or action, almost his only connection with them consisted in the fact that he did live through them. He lived while hey happened; and eyen if he had not lived they would have happened all the same, or with an amount. of difference so infinitesimally small that we have-no ealeulus subtile enough to appreciate it. To him it was all so much object and. incident flashing and flitting past, causing sensation after sensation, and entering as sen- sation into the current of his meutal life; but no reflex energy, no effort in return, no stroke back, did it or could it provoke from him. For that, the Chathams, the Pitts and the Wellingtons, were the men. They moved, and fought and laboured ; while toa man like Rogers all that happened was occasion only for so much reminiscence, or, at most, for so much idea, doctrine or belief. Still, as cach man’s re- miniscences and beliefs, occasioned by what he has lived through, depend on his circumstances and character—as the | reminiscences and belies of a Wordsworth, for example, living through the same period as a Rogers, and on the whole as passively, would still not be the same as those of a Rogers—it is interesting enough, in connection with the life of Rogers, to inquire what sort of rewiniscences he had of the public affairs of his time, and into what sort of doctrine or beliefs his observations of the public affairs of time had shaped themselves.

Here are a few of Rugers’s reminiscences of public men and affairs during his long life.

Reminiscence of Wiikes.—* One morning, when I was a lad, Wilkes came into our bankieg-house to solicit my father’s vote. My father happened to be out, and I, as his representative, spoke to Wilkes. At parting, Wilkes shook

his life. . Huskisson, speaking to me of Pitt, said that his hands shook so much that, when he helped himself to salt, hewas obliged to support his right ‘hand with his leit. Stothard the painter, happencd to be one morning at an inn on the Kent Road, when Pitt and Dundas put up there on their way. from Walmor. Next morning, as they. were stepping into the earriagé, the waiter said to Stothard, ‘ Sir, do you observe these two gentlemen? * Yes, he. replied,’ ‘and | know. them to be Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas.’ ‘ Well, sir, how much wine do you suppose they drank last night ? Stothard could not guess. ‘Seven bottles, sir.’ ”

The Prince of Wales—*“ When he (Krksine) had a house at Hampstead he entertained the very best company. L have dined there with the Prinee of Wales—the only time | ever had any conversation with his Royal Highness. On that occasion the prince was very agreeable aud familiar. Among other anecdotes which he told us of Lord Thurlow [remember two. ‘The first was :—Thurlow once said fo the prince, * Sir, your father will continue to’be a popular king as long as he continues to go to church every Sunday, and to be faithful to that ugly woman your mother ; but you, sir, will never be popular. ’”

Lard Nelson.—* lord Nelson, was a remarkably kind- hearted man. I have seen him spina teetotum with his one hand a whole evening, for the amusement of some children. L heard him once during dinner utter many bitter complaints (wiieh Lady Hamilton vainly attempted to check) of the way he had been treated at court that forenoon: the queen had not condescended to take the slightest notice of him. In truth, Nelson was hated at court; they were jealous of his fame.”

Anecdote of Napoleon." [I'll tell you an anecdote of |

Napoleon, which | had from Talleyrand. * Napoleon,’ said Talleyrand, ‘was at Bologne with the army of Hngland, when he received intelligence that the Austrians under Mack, wereat Ulm. “ If it had been mine to place them,” exclaimed Napoleon, ‘I should have placed them there.” In a moment the army was on the march, and he at Paris. I attended him to Strasburg. We were there at the house of the prefer, and no one in the room but ourselves, when Napoleon was saddevly seized with a fit, foaming at the mouth: he eried, ** ermes la “porte!” and then lay sense- less on the floor. I bolted the door. Presently Berthier knocked. “On ne peut pas entrer.” Afterwards Josephine knoeked, to whom I addressed the same words. Now; what a situation would mine have been if Napoleon had died ! But he recovered in about half an hour. Next morning, by daybreak, he was in his carriage; and within sixty hours the Austrian army had capitulated.’ ”

Sayings of Wellington,—“Speakivg to me of Bounaparte, the Duke of Wellington remarked, that in one respect he was superior to all the generals who had ever existed. | * Was it,’ [ asked, ‘in the management and skilfal arrangement of’ his troops?” ‘No,’ answered the Duke ; ‘it was in his power of concentrating such vast masses of men—a most important point in the art of war’—* J. have found,’ said the Duke, ‘that raw troops, however inferior to the-old ones in-ma- necuvring, are far superior to them in downright hard fighting with the enemy; at Waterloo, the young ensigns and licu- tenants, who had never before seen a battle, rushed to mevt death as if they had been playing at cricket.’ ”

Lard Castlercagh.—* Lord Greuville bas more than once said to me at Dropmore, ‘ What a frightful mistake it was to

Samuel Rogers lived through, therefore, between 1763 and calculations. No more talk of Parliamentary reform, no 1855, was, measuring by bulk alone, a seventieth part of all more dreams of fiue pacific adininistration ; nothing but war that has taken place on the earth since first there were | to the death with the Revolution and with France! The human beings upon it ; it was a twentieth part of all modern same terrible year, 1792, which roused the “heaven-born history ; it was a ninth part of all that Mr. Macaulay would | minister,” and made him the soul of the Coalition formed inelude in the truly national History of England; and it against the Revolution, saw the publication of the Pleasures was about a third en of properly British history, or of the of Memory; and little wonder if, during the next three- history of England and Scotland since their union. It is and-twenty years, the Muses were to hold their peace. not often that we have an opportunity of taking up in our During these three-and-twenty years, in the course of, which hands such a bit of universal time pierced through, so to Rogers passed through the entire period of his full man- speak, by one remarkable life, visibly holding it together hood, from his thirtieth to bis fifty-third year, what a series from eud to end, and enabling us to turn it round and round of European changes! The revolution runs its course under while we examine it and endeavour to become acquainted the Convention and Robespierre ; the Directory succeeds;

hands with me; and I felt proud of it for a week after. send such a person as Lord Castlereagh to the Congress of He was quite ugly, and squinted as much as his portraits Vienna !—a mau who was so ignorant that he did not know makes him; but he was very gentlemanly inappearanec and | the map of Rurope; aud who could be won over to make any ‘manners. [think I see him at this moment walking through , concessions by only being asked to breakfast with the Km- the crowded streets of the city as ehamberlain, on his way peror,’ .) : ‘ . _

to Guildhall, in a scarlet coat, military boots aud a bag-wig, William IV.—* Once, when in company with William the _—the hackney-coachbman in vain calling out to him,+A Fourth, I quite forgot that it is against all etiquette to ask a ‘coach, your honour!” | Sovereign about bis health; and on his saying to me, ‘Mr, |. Reminiscence of the Gordon Réots.—* When I was a Rogers, L hope you are well,’ J replied, ‘Very well, I thank lad, I recollect seeing a whole cartfyl of .young girls, in your Majesty. J trust your Majesty ws guile well also, ‘dresses, of various colours, on thew way to be executed at Never was.a king in greater confusion ; he did’nt know where Tyburn. They had ali been condemned, on one indictm nt, 10 look, and siammered out, ‘Yes,—yes,—only a little for having been cencerned in (thet is, perhaps, for having rheumatism.’ ‘ , .

been spectators of) the burning of some houses during Lord. From the specimens of Rogers’s recollections of the public

with it. Feeling this, we mean, for our own part, to speak Bounaparte supersedes the Directory, and, first as Consul, | George Gordon’s Riots. It was quite ave Grenville ten aud events of his time, it will be seen that they were not

more of the times of Samuel Rogers than of Samuel Rogers and then as Emperor, fills the universe with his name, until | was present at one of the trials conseque

on those riots, of a kind to.be much use in history. They are the agreeable

hiwuself ; believing however, that what we have to say about he is struck down at Waterloo. To the same period belongs and heard several boys sentenced, to their own excessive aud lively reminiscences of a man of light nature, hanging on

the man will have fully more significance if said in context the annihilation of Poland (1794,) and all the various trains with his relations, Only, in mercy to our readers, we shall of consequences, affecting each country in particular, which hot attempt to lift up so slendér a wire of connexion, the flowed from the military activity of Napoleon. As regards whole of that seventieth part of universal time which it Britain, her history during this period, ran ostensibly in the does, im a sense, hold together, but shall content ourselves usual channel of successive ministries. Pitt remained in

with that more limited mass of ninety years of purely office till 1801, throwing the resources of Britain into the we saw both ladies and gentlemen walking on the pier with whore lives were equally pastive.

British ecireumstances which the man Jived through cou- contest with France, adding to our conquests in India through seiously and sensitively, or, at most, with that coewal mass the Governors-General whom he sent out, anJ, as his final of general European faets which was witbin the geographica] act before resigding, accomplishiug the Lvish Union. This borizon, and, consequently, within the table-talk range of a also was the great period of the Parliameutary eloquence of

-came into the room and asked us for charity ; and Bodding- | ) stra rans ‘ton annoyed me much by saying to him, ‘Ii faut travailler.’| been deficient in that more pry

amazement, to be hanged. ‘ Never,’ said Grenyille, with the skirts of bis time, but without any deep interest in what great naivete, ‘did I see boys cry $a,"2? | Wus going ou, without miuci FCVEreMee for ee Roe Lak ° ~ . . ‘ 4 he. ear » ror Vii nou Recollection of France before the Revolittion—# My fivst whyse actious were fillug the ear of the ed i ro Agi oe . ; ; : » 10 nse of » 3 ¢ 2 preturcs fisit to France was in company with Boddington, not dong “even such a rich sense of the humorous and the | i

before the Revolution began. When we arrived at Calais|as was possessed by many of his literary eontemporaries

They are the mere diuner-

. i - i a anima a ’ has hee much ip societ , and had small fox-muffs. While we were dining there a poor monk table gossip of « man who has been arr ys che picked up stray ena and anecdotes, but who had al st fe found kind of sociability which i thes tfc,

; . y a _— a anfer s ‘ly into the Cluvtivus ¢ The monk bowed meekly and withdrew. Nothing would leads men to cuter strongly 1