1826. } 
on board the Bellerophon, he neyer, in my 
presence, or asfar as I know, allowed a fret- 
ful or a captious expression to escape him. 
It has been asserted that he was acting a 
part all the time he was on board the ship; 
but still, even allowing that to be the case, 
nothing but great command of temper could 
have enabled him to have sustained such 
a part for so many days, in his situation.” 
Speaking to Captain Maitland of the 
Emperor’s wish for an interview with the 
Prince Regent, “ D— the fellow,” said 
Lord Keith, more emphatically than de- 
corously, ‘if he had obtained an interview 
with his Royal Highness, in half an hour 
they would have been the best friends in 
England.” 
Is this Religion? by the Author of May 
you like it.—Really the writer must Jearn 
to tell a story, before he ventures to publish 
in, and not suppose his readers will be 
content with his stringing scraps together, 
unless the scraps prove of better metal. 
But, told well or ill, we have very little 
toleration for these new-fangled manufac- 
tures, which pass under the name of reli- 
gious novels. The effect of this familiar 
gossiping about the doctrines of theology, 
and the principles of morals, will be to 
widen the breach between the religious 
distinctions of the day, and to make pro- 
fession, rather than practice, the criterion 
of moral respectability. We would much 
rather see people carping about their neigh- 
bours’ actions than about their creeds ; 
they are less likely to blunder about the 
one than the other; and, at all events, 
less likely to draw sweeping conclusions 
from them. A man may be a tyrannical 
landlord and oppress his dependents, or a 
profligate spendthrift and ruin his trades- 
men, or neglect his family, without being 
regarded as universally shunnable ; he may 
be a very agreeable neighbour, and his 
society generally courted. But if another 
be supposed guilty of some heretical devia- 
tions from the “‘ mathematical line direct ” 
of St. Athanasius, or entertain any question- 
able fancies on the mysteries of original 
sin, or the doctrines of grace, we are apt 
to conclude—not that he is a poor logician, 
or a worse theologian, but a bad man; 
‘one with whom it is dangerous or impru- 
‘dent to associate, and who ought to be ex- 
cluded from the tables of well-fed and well- 
«dressed orthodox believers. 
We know nothing so. revolting as to hear 
people putting forth their principles, as 
‘they phrase them, and ina tone, that im- 
splies an expectation, you will receive the 
declaration as a pledge of purity and in- 
‘tegrity of conduct. In the eagerness to 
impress and inculeate, we soon come to 
think that we are thus performing the sum 
our duty; what is of primary becomes 
secondary importance, and talking- is 
_-s00n substituted for practice, or what is 
x hyersiaanan thing, it takes the first place in 
our .minds, and every body knows, that 
_ Domestic and Foreign. 
83 
what has first possession has a trick of 
keeping it, and of excluding, or at least 
depreciating every thing else. 
The principal personage of the little tale 
before us has a mamma and a tutor of 
evangelical principles,—great frequenters 
of bible and missionary meetings, and dis- 
cussers of doctrine. The youth becomes, 
as might be expected, as tolerant as Calvin 
or John Knox himself. The design of the 
author is to convert him to the orthodox 
party of the church, and to make him bet- 
ter, he must be made worse. How is this 
to be brought about? Send him to the 
University—Good. Forthwith he is in- 
troduced to a dissipated set—quickly ruffles 
the starch of his sentiments, drinks and 
games, and spends, and ina term or two 
returns home, disgusted with Mamma’s 
profession, and takes the reverse of w rong 
for right. The same profligate course is 
renewed on revisiting the University, till 
one morning he is found dead drunk and 
asleep under a hedge by an early peripa- 
tetic student, who very kindly and consi- 
derately conducts him to his rooms. A 
friendship ensues. The youth is of a very 
superior cast of intellect, and very cheerful 
and devout withal, but no Simeonite ; and 
being interested for his friend’s eternal hap- 
piness, he sets forthwith about his reforma- 
tion. At first matters progress rapidly; 
but the converter is a little too exacting, 
and the convert kicks. —A coolness follows. 
Some months after the intercourse is 
renewed: our hero receives a note from 
his friend desiring to see him, and he finds 
him in the last stage of a decline. The 
poor expiring youth is bent upon com- 
pleting the conversion of his friend. He 
has a sister, lovely, sensible and devout as 
himself, and she is to be made the finishing 
instrument. For this purpose, he implores 
his friend to take charge of him into Devon- 
shire, to his own home, and enjoins him, 
should he die on the journey, to hasten 
forward and communicate the intelligence— 
not to his father or mother, but to his sis- 
ter, on whose firmness, prudence, and ex- 
cellence he relies, for breaking the matter 
to his afflicted parents. They set out, and 
travel by short stages. The youth dies 
before he reaches home ; his friend obeys 
his last directions, communicates with the 
sister, remains with the family; is enrap- 
tured with the beauty, sense and spirit of 
the lady; delighted with the sober forms, 
and active benevolence and charitable con- 
struction of her reverend father, and with- 
ut further ceremony offers his band and 
eart. Exceptions are made on the score 
his college incorrectnesses, and diffir 
culties are made by mamma on the want 
of fortune: but by degrees all impediments 
are removed; the young lady gives him 
credit for permanent. conversion, and he is 
_ of course made perfectly happy, in the usual 
-manner.—Oh, beauty! indispensable | even 
in conversions. 
M 2 
