fruitful border, the fair and delicate garden

of sweet flowers, embalming the earth and air with their odoriferous fragrance, yet shut up and secured from any enemy's entrance and irruption; you are the holy fountain, sealed with the signet of the most sacred Trinity, from whence the happy waters of life inflow upon the whole universe; you are the happy city of God, whereof such glorious things are every where sung and spoken.

The volume from whence these Flores Catholicæ are extracted has more pious finger unction upon it than any other in my library. Great is Diana of the Ephesians!

There is nothing in which the ingenuity of the papists has been more amusingly