which I must think to be extremely fortunate. Strange and
ludicrous are the changes in human affairs. The Tories are now on the
treadmill, and the well-paid Whigs are riding in chariots: with many
faces, however, looking out of the windows (including that of our
Prime Minister[132]), which I never remember to have seen in the days
of the poverty and depression of Whiggism. Liberality is now a
lucrative business. Whoever has any institution to destroy, may
consider himself as a Commissioner, and his fortune as made; and, to
my utter and never-ending astonishment, I, an old Edinburgh Reviewer,
find myself fighting, in the year 1839, against the Archbishop of
Canterbury and the Bishop of London, for the existence of the National
Church."

Some of the reprinted articles would be fairly ranked in the present day
under the derogatory title of "Pot-boilers"; but others are among the most
effective and entertaining pieces which the author ever penned. Some of
these must be specified. There is the extraordinarily amusing, but quite
unjust, attack on Methodism, under which convenient heading are grouped
"the sentiments of Arminian and Calvinistic Methodists, and of the
Evangelical clergymen of the Church of England." The fun in this article is
chiefly gleaned from the pages of the _Evangelical Magazine_ and the
_Methodist Magazine_. Here we have the affecting story of the young man who
swore, and was stung by a bee "on the tip of the unruly member," "one of
the meanest of creatures" being thus employed "to reprove the bold
transgressor." Not less moving are the reflections of the religious
observer who saw a man driving clumsily in a gig.--"'What (I said to
myself) if a single untoward circumstance should happen! Should the horse
take fright, or the wheel on either side get entangled, or the gig
upset,--in either case what can preserve them? And should a morning so fair
and promising bring on evil before night,--should _death on his pale horse_
appear,--what follows?' My mind shuddered at the images I had raised."

Very curious too is the case of the people who, desiring to go by sea to
Margate, found the cabin occupied by a "mixed multitude who spoke almost
all languages but that of Canaan"; and started a weekly hoy on which "no
profane conversation was allowed." The advertisements are as quaint as the
correspondence.--

"'Wanted, a man of serious character, who can shave.'
'