saint, I have the honour of drinking to your health," and the man in black drank.

"Well, Belle," said I, "what have you to say to the gentleman's proposal?"

"That if he goes on in this way I will break his glass against his mouth."

"You have heard the lady's answer," said I. "I have," said the man in black, "and shall not press the matter. I can't help, however, repeating that she would make a capital lady abbess; she would keep the nuns in order, I warrant her; no easy matter! against my mouth-he! he!

Break the glass How she would

send the holy utensils flying at the nuns' heads occasionally, and just the person to wring the nose of Satan should he venture to appear one night in her cell in the shape of a handsome black man. No offence, madam, no offence, pray retain your seat," said he, observing that Belle had started up; "I mean no offence. Well, if you will not consent to be an abbess, perhaps you will consent to follow this young Zingaro, and to co-operate with him and us. I am a priest, madam, and can join you both in an instant, connubio stabili, as I suppose the knot has not been tied already."

"Hold your mumping gibberish," said Belle,

"and leave the dingle this moment, for though 't is free to every one, you have no right to insult me in it."

Pray be pacified," said I to Belle, getting up, and placing myself between her and the man in black, "he will presently leave, take my word for it-there, sit down again," said I, as I led her to her seat; then, resuming my own, I said to the man in black: "I advise you to leave the dingle as soon as possible."

"I should wish to have your answer to my proposal first," said he.

"Well, then, here you shall have it: I will not entertain your proposal; I detest your schemes they are both wicked and foolish."

"Wicked," said the man in black, "have they not he he!-the furtherance of religion in view ?"

"A religion," said I, "in which you yourself 'do not believe, and which you contemn."

"Whether I believe in it or not," said the man in black, "it is adapted for the generality of the human race; so I will forward it, and advise you to do the same. It was nearly extirpated in these regions, but it is springing up again, owing to circumstances. Radicalism is a good friend to us; all the liberals laud up our

system out of hatred to the Established Church, though our system is ten times less liberal than the Church of England.

Some of them have

I myself confess a

really come over to us. baronet who presided over the first radical meeting ever held in England-he was an atheist when he came over to us, in the hope of mortifying his own church-but he is now-ho! hoa real Catholic devotee-quite afraid of my threats; I make him frequently scourge himself before me. Well, Radicalism does us good service, especially amongst the lower classes, for Radicalism chiefly flourishes amongst them; for though a baronet or two may be found amongst the radicals, and perhaps as many lords-fellows who have been discarded by their own order for clownishness, or something they have done-it incontestably flourishes best among the lower orders. Then the love of what is foreign is a great friend to us; this love is chiefly confined to the middle and upper classes. Some admire the French, and imitate them; others must needs be Spaniards, dress themselves up in a zamarra, stick a cigar in their mouths, and say, Carajo.' Others would pass for Germans; he! he! the idea of any one wishing to pass for a German! but what has

done us more service than anything else in these
regions-I mean amidst the middle classes-has
been the novel, the Scotch novel.
The good
folks, since they have read the novels, have be-
come Jacobites; and, because all the Jacobs were
Papists, the good folks must become Papists also,
or, at least, papistically inclined.
The very
Scotch Presbyterians, since they have read the
novels, are become all but Papists; I speak ad-
visedly, having lately been amongst them. There's
a trumpery bit of a half papist sect, called the
Scotch Episcopalian Church, which lay dormant
and nearly forgotten for upwards of a hundred
years, which has of late got wonderfully into
fashion in Scotland, because, forsooth, some of the
long-haired gentry of the novels were said to
belong to it, such as Montrose and Dundee; and
to this the Presbyterians are going over in
throngs, traducing and vilifying their own fore-
fathers, or denying them altogether, and calling
themselves descendants of-ho! ho! ho!-Scot-
tish Cavaliers !!! I have heard them myself
repeating snatches of Jacobite ditties about
Bonnie Dundee,' and—

"Come, fill up my cup, and fill up my can,
And saddle my horse, and call up my man.'

There's stuff for you!

Not that I object to

the first part of the ditty. It is natural enough that a Scotchman should cry, 'Come, fill up my cup!' more especially if he's drinking at another person's expense-all Scotchmen being fond of liquor at free cost: but 'Saddle his horse!!!'

- for what purpose I would ask? Where is the use of saddling a horse, unless you can ride him? and where was there ever a Scotchman who could ride?"

"Of course you have not a drop of Scotch blood in your veins," said I, "otherwise you would never have uttered that last sentence."

"Don't be too sure of that," said the man in black; "you know little of Popery if you imagine that it cannot extinguish love of country, even in a Scotchman. A thorough-going Papist-and who more thorough-going than myself-cares nothing for his country; and why should he? he belongs to a system, and not to a country."

"One thing," said I, "connected with you, I cannot understand; you call yourself a thoroughgoing Papist, yet are continually saying the most pungent things against Popery, and turning to unbounded ridicule those who show any inclination to embrace it."

"Rome is a very sensible old body," said the man in black," and little cares what her children