The soundness of the head and legs of the country he took for granted.

The inflated state of the unchivalrous middle, denominated Manchester, terrified him.

Could it be true that England was betraying signs of decay?
and signs how ignoble! Half-a-dozen crescent lines cunningly turned, sketched her figure before the world, and the reflection for one ready to die upholding her was that the portrait was no caricature.

Such an emblematic presentation of the land of his filial affection haunted him with hideous mockeries.
Surely the foreigner hearing our boasts of her must compare us to showmen bawling the attractions of a Fat Lady at a fair! Swoln Manchester bore the blame of it.

Everard exulted to hear his young echo attack the cotton-spinners.