We cannot dwell upon every individual case of ignorance displayed in the Cabinet.  We confine ourselves to the glad statement, that every minister from the first lord of the treasury to the grooms in waiting, vivified by the sacred heat of their schoolmaster Bishops, illustrate the great truth of Doctor CHALMERS, that the poor man can only obtain justice “by a universal Christian education.”

The Bench of Bishops do not confine their labours to the instruction of the Cabinet.  By no means.  They have appointed prebends, deans, canons, vicars, &c., to teach the members of both houses of Parliament practical Christianity towards their fellow-men.  Lord LONDONDERRY has sold his fowling-piece for the benefit of the poor—­has given his shooting-jacket to the ragged beggar that sweeps the crossing opposite the Carlton Club—­and resolving to forego the vanities of grouse, is now hard at work on “The Acts of the Apostles.”  Colonel SIBTHORP—­after unceasing labour on the part of Doctor CROLY—­has managed to spell at least six of the hard names in the first chapter of St. Matthew, and can now, with very slight hesitation, declare who was the father of ZEBEDEE’S children!

“An universal Christian education!” Oh, reader! picture to yourself London—­for one day only—­operated upon by the purest Christianity.  Consider the mundane interests of this tremendous metropolis directed by Apostolic principles!  Imagine the hypocrisy of respectability—­the conventional lie—­the allowed ceremonial deceit—­the tricks of trade—­the ten thousand scoundrel subterfuges by which the lowest dealers of this world purchase Bank-stock and rear their own pine-apples—­the common, innocent iniquities (innocent from their very antiquity, having been bequeathed from sire to son) which men perpetrate six working-days in the week, and after, lacker up their faces with a look of sleek humility for the Sunday pew—­consider all this locust swarm of knaveries annihilated by the purifying spirit of Christianity, and then look upon London breathing and living, for one day only, by the sweet, sustaining truth of the Gospel!

Had our page ten thousand times its amplitude, it would not contain the briefest register of the changes of that day!

There is a scoundrel attorney, who for thirty years has become plethoric on broken hearts.  The scales of leprous villany have fallen from him; and now, an incarnation of justice, he sits with open doors, to pour oil into the wounds of the smitten—­to make man embrace man as his brother—­to preach lovingkindness to all the world, and—­without a fee—­to chant the praises of peace and amity.

Crib the stockbroker meets Horns a fellow-labourer in the same hempen walk of life. Crib offers to buy a little Spanish of Horns.  “My dear Crib,” says Horns, “it is impossible; I can’t sell; for I have just received by a private hand from Cadiz, news that must send the stock down to nothing.  I am a Christian, my dear Crib,” says Horns, “and as a Christian, how could I sell you a certain loss?”