at the Bulls of
Rome, as he saw those pretenders with his mind's eye. Master C. J.
London, after some considerable reflection, made a show of squaring,
likewise.

"In the days of your great, great, great, great, grandfather," said Mrs.
Bull, dropping her voice still lower, as she glanced at Mr. Bull in his
repose, "the Bulls of Rome were not so utterly hateful to our family as
they are at present. We didn't know them so well, and our family were
very ignorant and low in the world. But, we have gone on advancing in
every generation since then; and now we are taught, by all our family
history and experience, and by the most limited exercise of our rational
faculties, that our knowledge, liberty, progress, social welfare and
happiness are wholly irreconcilable and inconsistent with them. That the
Bulls of Rome are not only the enemies of our family, but of the whole
human race. That wherever they go, they perpetuate misery, oppression,
darkness, and ignorance. That they are easily made the tools of the
worst of men for the worst of purposes; and that they _can not_ be
endured by your poor father, or by any man, woman, or child, of common
sense, who has the least connection with us."

Little John, who had gradually left off squaring, looked hard at his
aunt, Miss Eringobragh, Mr. Bull's sister, who was groveling on the
ground, with her head in the ashes. This unfortunate lady had been, for
a length of time, in a horrible condition of mind and body, and
presented a most lamentable spectacle of disease, dirt, rags,
superstition, and degradation.

Mrs. Bull, observing the direction of the child's glance, smoothed
little John's hair, and directed her next observations to him.

"Ah! You may well look at the poor thing, John!" said Mrs. Bull; "for
the Bulls of Rome have had far too much to do with her present state.
There have been many other causes at work to destroy the strength of her
constitution, but the Bulls of Rome have been at the bottom of it; and,
depend upon it, wherever you see a condition at all resembling hers, you
will find, on inquiry, that the sufferer has allowed herself to be dealt
with by the Bulls of Rome. The cases of squalor and ignorance, in all
the world most like your aunt's, are to be found in their own household;
on the steps of their doors; in the heart of their homes. In
Switzerland, you may cross a line no broader than a bridge or a hedge,
and know, in an instant, where the Bulls of Rome have b