There are many things in this world erroneously as well as vulgarly compared to "bricks." In the case of the letters of the Alphabet, however, the comparison is just; they constitute the fabric of a language, and grammar is the mortar. The wonder is that there should be so few of them. The English letters are twenty-six in number. There is nothing like beginning at the beginning; and we shall now therefore enumerate them, with the view also of rendering their insertion subsidiary to mythological instruction, in conformity with the plan on which some account of the Heathen Deities and ancient heroes is prefixed or subjoined to a Dictionary. We present the reader with a form of Alphabet composed in humble imitation of that famous one, which, while appreciable by the dullest taste, and level to the meanest capacity, is nevertheless that by which the greatest minds have been agreeably inducted into knowledge.
THE ALPHABET.
Awas Apollo, the god of the carol,
Bstood for Bacchus, astride on his barrel;
Cfor good Ceres, the goddess of grist,
Dwas Diana, that wouldn't be kiss'd;
Ewas nymph Echo, that pined to a sound,
Fwas sweet Flora, with buttercups crown'd;
Gwas Jove's pot-boy, young Ganymede hight,
Hwas fair Hebe, his barmaid so tight;
I,little Io, turn'd into a cow,
J,jealous Juno, that spiteful old sow;
Kwas Kitty, more lovely than goddess or muse,
L,Lacooon—I wouldn't have been in his shoes!
