be as imposing and brilliant as the Lord Mayor's Show
itself."--_Madame Novikoff's Letter to the "Times," on
"The Jews in Russia."_]

The quality of mercy is o'erstrained,
It droppeth twaddle-like from Lord Mayor's lips
Upon a Russian ear: strength is twice scornful,
Scornful of him it smites, and him who prates
Of mercy for the smitten: force becomes
The thronéd monarch better than chopped logic;
His argument's--two millions of armed men,
Which strike with awe and with timidity
Prating philanthropy that pecks at kings.
But Mercy is beneath the Sceptre's care,
It is a bugbear to the hearts of Czars.
Force is _the_ attribute of the "God of Battles";
And earthly power does then show likest heaven's
When Justice mocks at Mercy. Therefore, Jew,
Though mercy be thy prayer, consider this,
That in the course of mercy few of us,
Muscovite Czars, or she-diplomatists.
Should hold our places as imperious Slavs
Against humanitarian Englishmen,
And Jews gregarious. _These_ do pray for Mercy,
Whose ancient Books instruct us all to render
Eye for eye justice! Most impertinent!
Romanist Marquis, Presbyterian Duke,
And Anglican Archbishop, mustered up
With Tabernacular Tubthumper, gowned Taffy,
And broad-burred Boanerges from the North,