many, the Tartuffe morality, would not seem very heinous,

"Le scandale du monde, est ce qui fit l'offence

Et ce n'est pas pecher, que pecher en silence," But after all, it is very difficult to judge what may be the average progress or retrogression of these classes in sound doctrine and virtuous practice, for though vice and presumptuous philosophy are more rife than formerly, yet on the other hand the active zeal of Ministers of the Church is found in many places much greater than it was wont to be, and I believe this pious activity seldom fails to produce at least some good fruit. The churches and chapels in the districts chiefly inhabited by the gentry, are, for the most part, crowded, and the preaching is generally good, though by no means so energetic or exciting as I remember to have heard in Dublin. Preachers here seldom address the feelings of their congregation, and they are right, for nine out of ten English people would be wholly unmoved by any appeal to their sensibilities. Within the limits of the "city," which is thickly studded with fine old churches, blocked up among warehouses and counting houses; I am told that the congregations are very scanty, for the more wealthy have their houses of residence in some other part of London, and very many of the middling classes in trade are dissenters. It were much to

be wished that some arrangement could be made to transfer the revenues and service of these unattended churches to places where they are very much wanted, and would be constantly and abundantly useful, but unfortunately the tide of Church Reform runs rather towards stripping the church of its revenues and abridging its influence, than towards the application of its existing strength to the spiritual wants of the people, by a better apportionment of the means it possesses. But as regards the working classes

of the metropolis and the class between them, and what may be called the middle class, I fear that there is a great and increasing amount of positive irreligion. This I believe is owing very of certain political teachers, by newsmuch to political causes. The object papers, and tracts distributed at a very cheap rate to the lower orders, is to root out of their minds the principle of reverence. A Parson is held up as a man worthy only of hatred and ridicule -a part of the machinery of "corrupt government," and from the Parson, the that which it is his business to teach. scorn and contempt is transferred to It is lamentable to see the crowds of "pale mechanics," most of them young men, and well clothed, who stray about London in groups on Sundays, and never think of going to church. I have endeavoured sometimes to catch the general conversation of these groups and I have found it a strange mixture of smartness, jest, obscenity, irreligion, and self-satisfied contempt of every thing and every body in the world except those who have made speeches in public in favour of the popular side in politics.

Now all this is a very meagre answer to your question, but you will, after the manner of the wise, extract something from my nothings, and so I leave it.

You interdict me from writing you what you call an essay on Tories, Radicals, and Whigs, (I am glad you put Whigs last) but you will permit me to tell you that I have seen the quondam idol of the mob, Hobhouse, pelted off the hustings of Covent-garden with rotten cabbages and turnips, and I have heard Burdett execrated by a thousand tongues as the vilest of mankind. This is what I call “retribution.”

to

Make my affectionate remembrances my cousins, and believe me, my

dear aunt,

Your affectionate nephew,

H. R.

days. But, though as we have intimated there was classical authority for this translation of dress, we could not exactly relish the prospect of sitting the whole evening in presence of a pair of light-hearted sylphs, ready to expire with ever renewed laughter, and, therefore, under pretence of fatigue, proposed our adjournment to bed, to which we were consigned forthwith; bearing up stairs, however, in solemn and cautious procession, in our own hands, a huge bowl of wine-whey which we were earnestly enjoined to imbibe immediately, with which, it is needless to say, we heartily complied. We got into bed, but for the life of us could not close our eyes-our bed was just on a level with the open casement, through which, from the honey-suckle and wall-flower, floated a rich and refreshing perfume; while through the garden foliage, our eyes caught the sun setting, in softened glory, far, far up on the very top of a magnificent mountain range on the west, close by the opening of a gigantic burnished cloud, like a way-worn traveller at the door of his tent. There he sat-we could have thought, for hours-looking in calm majesty over the wide scene of voluptuous beauty beneath him, as though, to all seeming, loth to leave a world so fair. We will remember that evening long enough; many a time since that, amid the silent and dim twilight of our College chambers, has the image of it risen up to our memory before we fell asleep; often wondering if we could ever be after this way so happy again. Alas! no. The two beautiful girls, whose light peals of laughter, as we went up stairs that time, are yet vibrating most sweetly on our ear, are each on the eve of marriage, and are both going for many years to a far foreign land-one of them accompanied by their mother, who well knows, that she at least is never to return-other faces will be seen glancing through the cottage casements, and other voices than those we loved so dearly, will sound round that once familiar hearth—and, therefore, it

is we care not-for in it there would be but little heart-to go even in the same direction ever again. But we feel we are getting tender, which is contrary to our usual wont, and are falling into a melancholy mood, when we have promised to tell the public candidly how it happened that we should read any work of Lytton Bulwer's, whose very name we would defy the Archbishop of Canterbury himself, if his Grace knows any thing at all about the individual, which it is most likely he does not, to pronounce without a smile. The sun had gone down, inch after inch, until his appearance was reduced to a point of intense brilliancy on the mountain top-we were just in the very act of suiting the action to the word " Turn gentle hermit of the dale" as we thought a change of corporeal position might induce sleep, when by a special interposition of Morpheus, who, no doubt, pitied our state, we caught a glimpse of Pelham, by Bulwer, lying on the table: we took it up-read the first page-and saw it was the very species of opiate we required. By reading every third page for as to any interruption in Bulwer's meaning thence resulting, don't trouble yourself about a non-existence-we must have got through nearly the first volume in a state of considerable consciousness, as we just recollect seeing through our dreamy haze the word Finis, as we sunk down upon the pillow, which we are told always forms with, our nose an acute angle in our state of repose, with a murmur of gratitude to Litton Bulwer, who had effected for our particular case, that blessing, the primitive discovery of which, awakened a similar spirit of thankfulness in Sancho Pancha, "Blessed be the man," said the paragon of all squires, “who first invented sleep." We woke next morning with Pelham in one hand, outside the bedclothes, and intended to have sent off to some of the periodicals-the Edinburgh Review *probably a criticism of the entire work, qualified as we were by the species of perusal we have just described, and which by your profes

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sional reviewers would be reckoned as having involved an extraordinary degree of attention to the subject matter of our remarks. But the strawberries and cream, we suppose, which we got at breakfast, must have put the entire business out of our head; for from that day until this present moment we have never thought in any shape of poor Bulwer; and how he came at this writing into our head, is what we really cannot account for. Such then is the whole secret of our reading "Pelham." We are told that other works from the same "able pen," have issued from the press-nay, we have been assured that in one of them, Paul Clifford," if we are not mistaken, the illustrious author waxeth right merry, and indulges in several jokes and other witty sayings, not laid down in Joe Miller, at least in the common editions; and, moreover, even at times the dog gets satirical and Junius-like, observing, in spite of the solicitations, privately we understand, addressed to him by the friends of the parties, no measures at all with the objects of his fury, but shivering them into atoms at the very first blow. His last attack on poor Lord Eldon, is considered to have made sad work with the feelings of that ill-starred peer. Still further, a friend of ours, on whose veracity we can implicitly rely, and who is, moreover, a wonderful searcher after publications that no one else sees-1 s-tells us that in a periodical called the New Monthly Magazine, of which Lytton is Editor-being so made as the whole world, except himself, knows, solely that Colburn, the proprietor may avail himself of Lytton's parliamentary privilege, (for Lytton is a statesman. Oh! tempora, Oh! mores), in his extensive bibliopolical correspondence-he has lashed Lockhart, of the Quarterly how we pity Lockhart!-in terms which if he survives, our informant consents to be ever after called a roach. But, peace to poor Lytton! He has been

to us the source of much amusement, and we beg of him, by these presents, as the Minister of one Power says, when concluding his official note to another, to accept the assurance of our high considerations.

We are now about to enter on a subject of a far different kind, referring, as it does, to a measure which we foresee will prove to us a source at once of trouble and glory. Without further preface then, it is our solemn purpose to assume the character of a host and be at home to a brilliant and numerous assembly, whom we expect to honuor us with their presence at a grand College Breakfast in our chambers, on no other day in the year than " July the First, in the morning clear," It was our original intention to have kept the whole affair as secret as possible, because there is such a competition for invitations to all College Breakfasts and a fortiori to ours, that we should have felt ourselves rather awkwardly situat ed in respect to many families, who if our purposes were to get abroad, would think themselves entitled to cards, when the truth is, we could have spared their presence excellently well. But we happened to mention it by way of conversation, on a visit we paid the other day to a family in -street,* never thinking what might be the result of our imprudence; but, whew! we had as lief proclaimed it at the Market Cross. The system of applications for cards since kept up-but let us speak first of the Breakfast itself, and the circumstances under which the idea of it originated.

Our readers are aware, and that portion of them which, out of an apprehension which they will kindly pardon us in calling most silly, of our instability, subscribed merely for six months, ought doubly to be aware, (so that they may continue, oh! good news for them,) their subscriptions, (let them say at once, for ever,) that with our July number we enter upon our second half