gone forth into every corner, with the secrecy, the subtlety, and the destruction of the plague. It has fallen a consuming blight. Its blows have been rendered more sure by the guise under which they have been struck. It paints before the fancy the rainbow hues of unutterable glory, while it infuses the poison of eternal death. Like the vampire, it fans its victim at its pleasure while it stings him to the heart. SPEECH, also, or the coinage and the currency of human thought, meant to be the glory of man, and the channel along which bright and holy thoughts, and hopes, and sweet imaginings, might travel from mind to mind, lighting up the very wilderness by its transit, and bringing out the latent harmonies of the physical, the moral, and the spiritual economies-this divine gift has been degraded to most unhallowed purposes. It has been wielded by many unsanctified hearts and strong intellects, to stir from the very depths of the social existence their long-laid deposits, to pollute and darken the whole streams of our social being, and, if possible, reduce society to that state in which desperate deeds may be perpetrated unseen, and the most reckless spirits may dash more successfully at the objects of their unholy desires. The powers of speech have been desecrated to gild the altars at which the wretched high-priest of Socialism offers up virgin innocence, and manly purity, and national decorum, and Christian faith, a holocaust to his god Moloch. The witchery of human eloquence has been made to fill with its echoes the Socialists' temple, in order to exclude the tones of reproving truth. The powers and the attraction of speech and rhetoric have been laid hold on by all sorts of debased and ignoble creeds, to make the worse, if possible, appear the better cause-not to define, but to confound in one wide ruin vice and virtue, error and truth, Mammon and the eternal God.

We hear every day of lectures in defence of tenets which might make

motives to the good, and the right, and the true. We know that itinerant orators are spread over the land, pained at the spectacle of piety and peace, and imbibing fiendish joy and merriment at bloodshed, and insurrection, and disorganisation. These are the sacrilegious priests of systematic infidelity, who have profaned the shew-bread of the sanctuary, and used the lamps of the holy place to lighten up all the unholy passions in men's hearts, and to drive them headlong to the fell catastrophe they would fain anticipate.

Need we allude to Chartism as a sign of the present times? It is a portion only of the spawn of Socialism-Socialism or Infidelity,-for it is only systematised Infidelity. Socialism has dislocated society from God; and Chartism, in consistent prosecution of the principle, has burst the more feeble ties that bound the subject to his queen. Socialism exhausts the fear of God from the hearts of its proselytes; and Chartism completes the havoc, by desolating the soul of its last tenant-reverence and loyalty to the queen. Both are sisters in arms, and rivals only in renown. Both rejoice to discard from their horrid dens all reverence to heaven, all loyalty to earth. The one pulls down the altars, the other undermines the throne. The finger of the Socialist has written, not in obscure but prominent places of this land, the revolting superscription, "No GOD!" and the Chartist, thereby delivered from Him that troubled conscience by his presence, has traced with the finger of anarchy, "No QUEEN!" The one system employs the pike, the other the petition. The emissaries of both wield with untiring zeal those vast weapons, speech and the press-which give to man a better, because a more universal and enduring, body than his parents,-which enable him to hold converse on far-spread continents, and with many thousands at the same hour,-enabling him to inherit a posthumous influence. It is one of the saddest omens of the times, that these gifts-free speech and a free press-should be almost uni

of these horrid and licentious shapes is a sign of the times, significant of evil; they are among the signs and wonders that precede evil days..

Another startling sign of the present times is the growth and progress of the Papacy. It has infected the pulpit, the parliament, the palace. A fell upas-tree, it has shot its branches into every avenue; and 500 popish chapels, and 700 priests, and a million and a half of Protestants, each of whom is a missionary; and five millions of the same bigoted serfs in the sister isle, now ceased to be suppliants for toleration, and thundering for supremacy. The mendicant become the menacing dictator, and openly announcing to sleeping Protestants, that each boon is to turn but a better purchase of the lever that is to lift the British isles from the light of truth into the mists and miseries of superstition; and those who ought to know better ever giving sops to Cerberus, in the foolish hope of conciliating what ought to have been crushed. It is in connexion with this subject, and with reference to the spread of the Papacy, that those who were once deemed alarmists are now found to have been sober men. They bare the brand of the enthusiast for their lifetime, well knowing it would, over their graves, bud into the prophet's rod. The socalled visionary of a few years ago is now felt by most to have been the sainted minister. Papal prayers are offered up at many altars in France for the perversion of England, and a vigorous proselytism is carried on at our very doors. There are the unhappy hostilities that have sprung up between Churchmen and Dissenters, in which, with some bright exceptions, the latter have too much merged the pastor in the politician, and confounded hatred to the church

with spirituality of character. In the Scotch church, even if not disposed to pronounce any verdict on a conflict which is now likely soon to subside, we cannot, as Christians and churchmen, but deplore the unhappy consequences and concomitants. Whether the one side or the other be right, we must grieve at spectacles of conflict, and bitterness, and injured peace. Over a portion of our own Church a sad eclipse has also fallen; we trust it is only for a little. The Nicene theology, inlaid with ceremony and form, and carrying within it the seeds of Popery, has been revived; and the thirty-nine articles, and the rubrics of the church, all truly Protestant, have been, by men eating the bread of the church, deplored as intolerant and intolerable inflictions. Never was there so thorough a stirring up of the very depths of Church and State,-never were there clearer proofs of another epoch of ancient prophecy. Synods and convocations, thrones, and they that sit on them, are all trembling; and universal nature groans and travails in pain, waiting for her second birth. Not that the sound of chariot wheels that may be now heard is to disturb the just; the very reverse. The flash that overwhelms the world lights them to their home; the thunder-peal that breaks up and bruises the kingdoms of Cæsar, loosens only from their earthly moorings the children of the sky. The world's tombstone is but the platform of their resurrection, on which they plume their wings of faith and love, and take a bolder and a more glorious flight. In what will the present action of moral, spiritual, intellectual, and political elements issue? In a revolution or a reformation? God only knows.

Ir not unfrequently happens in this strange world, that the object we most ardently desire to possess turns out a bane rather than a benefit; and so it proved to be in the case of Mr. Delastro and his dog Toby, as the following recital will testify.

Mr. Delastro's ancestors were Spaniards, but there had been a sprinkle of Jewish blood in the family. Devoted to commerce for some generations, they were wealthy. Mr. Delastro was a partner of the branch of the house, long established in London; and his share of the business produced him a handsome income, with an employment of a very trifling portion of his time.

Consequently, Mr. Delastro was always to be met in the most fashionable promenades, at the Opera, on the first night of every new play; and as he was ever extremely well dressed, and tolerably good-looking (though with a dash of Jew in the outline of his face), mothers of families wherein daughters preponderated did not view him with an unfavourable eye.

Mr. Delastro had a maiden aunt, Miss Isabel Mendizabel. This lady was considerably past a certain age; and, notwithstanding she possessed every apparent comfort which an elderly single lady might be supposed to want-such as a one-horse close carriage, steady servants, numerous invitations to friendly rubbers, a first-rate dentist, gold fish in globes, and a good balance at her banker's, notwithstanding these desirable articles, she was dissatisfied, restless-in fact, unhappy.

We should now speak of Toby, for he was the property of Miss Mendizabel for some time; she had purchased him of a ragged-looking man in Regent Street, who was an Z 77

the palm of his hand: this beating answered two purposes, as, if any passer-by accidentally saw the man pick up the dog, he concluded that it must be his own, by his taking the liberty to thump it; and, secondly, the aforesaid blows prevented any attempt of the animal either to bite or to struggle, and it permitted itself quietly, but mournfully, to be carried away.

Toby was one of those dazzling white, soft, frizzly-haired poodles, small of size, but symmetrically formed; with piercing, cunning, dark eyes peeping through the woolly eyelids. The upper part of his body was apparently clothed in a white spencer, while the hinder part was shaved and trimmed, and exhibited its natural colour, a delicate pink, fleshy hue, save where certain tips and knots were designedly left; and at the termination of his tail there was a something in shape between a shaving-brush and a powderpuff.

Toby was to all appearance an affectionate and engaging animal; but this story will prove that he was a deceitful dog," a shocking little

dog!"

66

To return to Miss Isabel Mendiza bel; all of a sudden she disclosed to her friends her determination to go abroad. She was miserable, she could not tell why; (her medical man could have informed her, that she was in the habit of eating and sleeping too much; but he was aware that she would not believe him). Miss Mendizabel became more and more depressed; and at last it ap peared that she was seized with a pious feeling of doing penance for a glaring error of her grandmother. This lady had entered a convent at Cadiz some seventy years ago; but a ing presented himself at

tine correspondence was with extreme difficulty carried on for some time, which ended with the Señora Torrida Zona eloping with Señor Abraham Mendizabel, and marrying him. All Cadiz was in an uproar, as the bridegroom did not profess the same faith with the bride; but the Señora thought, with Sheridan's Duenna, that he was "so little like a Jew, and so much like a gentleman," that, in the face of all religious scruples, she rejoiced in the name of Mendizabel.

Strange to say, that, probably for the want of excitement, Miss Isabel Mendizabel made up what little mind she had remaining, to throw herself into the convent at Cadiz, against which her grandmother had so grievouly sinned, and thereby, devoting herself strictly to the forms of the establishment, she might be enabled to release the soul of her ancestress out of purgatory. Nothing could alter this pious resolve. Mr. Delastro, who for several reasons wished to keep his aunt in London, made her an offer of a stall on the alternate nights at the Italian Opera, sent her turtle from Bleaden's, pine-apples from Garcia's, and raised ham (no) lamb pies from a first-rate restaurateur, But it was all in vain; and the aunt departed for the convent in Cadiz; and we are not prepared to say, that however meritorious the resolution, whether it tended to mend Isabel, or her grandmother's soul!

It is enough for us to know that the dog Toby was presented to Mr. Delastro. "Thereby hangs a tail." Mr. Delastro was fond of Toby, and had often wished to possess him; and Toby was equally fond of running away with Mr. Delastro's gloves or cane, although he was a very genteel-looking dog.

Some months passed, subsequent to the old lady's departure for Spain, before the highly-cherished gift to her nephew became the originator of the most serious annoyance to him. But we must not anticipate.

Mr. Delastro was intimate at the house of a family residing in the Regent's Park, and a frequent visitor. Toby was a prodigious favourite with the ladies, and often accompanied his master in the morning calls at Mrs. Pettington's. Mr. Delastro remarked, that in going up

Portland Place, a very shabby, illlooking fellow, who had a small terrier, or Marlborough spaniel, in leading-strings, and one or two fubsy puppies in his hands for sale, was an object of great interest to Toby, although the man never seemed to notice the dog. But repeatedly, when Delastro came from the house in the Regent's Park, this fellow was loitering about.

Miss Annabella Pettington was a showy and accomplished girl; and Delastro began to think that he was enamoured of her. Mrs. Pettington, with the vigilant eye of a mother, observed several little peculiar attentions which Mr. Delastro had betrayed, and her heart beat high with hope at an event which might occur; for she had Delastro's ample income in her mind's eye, and would form no objection to such a son-in-law.

Mr. Delastro had a flexible tenor voice, and sang with taste,-a valuable accomplishment for a young gentleman who is desirous to be on good terms with the ladies.

A bass voice never has half the effect of a tenor in exciting the soft emotions of the female heart. To be sure, the words of a song may have somewhat to do with it; and it is very rare to hear a love-ballad composed for a bass singer. Mr. Delastro's warbling deeply impressed Miss Annabella Pettington.

"Anon through every pulse the music stole,

And held sublime communion with the soul,

Wrung from the coyest breast the imprison'd sigh,

And kindled rapture in the coldest eye." MONTGOMERY.

In an inlaid ornamental tray on the work-table, amongst some small specimens of porcelain, Mrs. Pettington had deposited her keys, and a purse containing three sovereigns, a half sovereign, and four gold East Indian coins, which were used as whist-counters.

Toby, being a very playful animal, and remarkably neat and clean in his person, had the privilege of jumping on the sofas and chairs.

The family were this day disposed of in the following manner :-Mr. Pettington had driven his cabriolet down to the public office in which he was employed; wherein, for a

salary of 1000l. per annum, he arduously devoted his precious time, from twelve o'clock until half-past five daily. The three younger Misses Pettington were walking in one of the inclosed gardens in the Regent's Park with their governess, who carried Fenwick de Porquet's Clef du Trésor de l'Ecolier Français in her hand, whereby the young ladies obtained exercise, both mental and bodily; at the same time, she had also Walker's Pronouncing Dictionary to aid them.

Miss Annabella Pettington was very tastefully attired, and turning over a musical album, seated in a picturesque attitude, with her face partially turned towards the piano. Mr. Delastro was, in his most fascinating manner, describing the intricate plot of the new ballet at the Opera of the preceding evening, and occasionally glancing at and admiring the graceful ringlets that adorned the neck of his enchantress. Mrs. Pettington had quitted the room to consult with the housekeeper respecting dinner, but in reality to enable the young lady and gentleman to converse on any subject in a more free and confidential manner; and whilst they were employed in this very interesting occupation, Toby was amusing himself, now snapping at a fly, now giving a bark, as he observed his figure reflected in a glass that reached to the carpet; then he was mounted on a chair, and then he was quietly seated on the table, but with a restless eye watching an opportunity to obtain a prize. He panted, he lolled his tongue out, he furtively glanced at Delastro, he silently seized something in his mouth, leapt gently down, and sneaked under a sofa.

As it is held as a maxim in these latter and improving days that education is a most important affair with all ranks and classes, we must now state that Toby HAD received an EDUCATION,-indeed, a sort of Spartan course of instruction, wherein the art of stealing was not considered objectionable. Toby was one of the most

So, on this day, when Mr. Delastro took his departure from the house in the Regent's Park, Scraggs was at a little distance. Delastro passed without seeing him, and Toby followed Mr. Delastro; when on a sudden he stopped, turned back, and ran into a passage that leads into Albany Street, where he delivered to Scraggs a purse (rather wet, to be sure), but containing three sovereigns, a halfsovereign, and four gold coins. He was then treated with a bit of "single Gloucester" from the waistcoat pocket of Mr. Scraggs, which he devoured greedily; but hearing the whistle of Mr. Delastro, and observing a signal from his preceptor which very much resembled the preparations for a kick, he ran off, as fast as he could put his legs to the ground, after Mr. Delastro.

In about an hour after the purse was missed by Mrs. Pettington, and search was made every where. The servants were interrogated, suspected. Mrs. Pettington did not care so much about the three sovereigns and a half as she did for the four gold East Indian pieces, which had been the cit her brother, Major Doddy,