You
stay there till Paul and I come to see ye."

All the household of Reuben embraced Eugene, and made him some little
present, before he set out. An abundance of tears were shed by young and
old, as the melancholy and thoughtful face of Eugene was seen by them
for the last time.

Truth compels us to say a word or two in reference to the antecedents of
this reverend doctor of Presbyterianism into whose _protection_ this
innocent lamb was taken. Dr. Dilman was about sixty years old at this
time; and after having lived in some manner with his first wife for near
thirty years, had lately taken out a bill of divorce by law against the
"old woman," to make room for a young _religious lady_ in his reverend
bed. During his long life, he had changed his creed no less than nine
times. He was first an Episcopalian; but having been refused ordination
in that sect, on account of some peccadilloes of his youth, he joined
the Methodists, from whom he received conversion and a call. Being a man
of undoubted talent, and thinking the Methodists were too slow in
promoting him, he became a Baptist. His next hop was to the
Universalists, whom, because he found too penurious, he deserted for the
Congregationalists, from whom he got a call to a southern pro-slavery
church, where, after amassing considerable wealth in cash and "human
chattels," he resigned his charge, came to the north again to recruit
his sinking constitution, and, after trying two or three other minor
sects, he settled down an old-school anti-slavery Presbyterian. Poor
man! his star has gone down now, and his memory will soon be forgotten;
but the anecdotes and tales that his extraordinary life illustrated will
not be forgotten for generations to come. The passage in his study,
through which he used to admit his "Cressida" from a secret door
communicating with his "basement church," is now shown as a specimen of
his skill. The transformations and metamorphoses he used to undergo,
like Jupiter of old, in order to pass unobserved to the retreats of his
"Europas," on the sides and on the summits of the classically-sounding
hills of the city of his ministry,--all these things, and more, are
known to the poorest retailers of interesting stories and anecdotes. In
a word, he was as impure as Caligula, as cruel as Nero or Calvin
himself, and as violent as Luther or John Knox.

Yet it is a melancholy fact in connection with, and illustrative of, the
spirit of the Protestantisms o