“‘God forbid,’ she replied.  ’This is not for you, Mr. M’Slime—­I certainly will give you no more this night.  But Bob here is a favorite of mine.  Bob, you will see Mr. M’Slime home?’

“’In all piety and truth, I shall see that burning and shining light home,’ returned Bob; ’in the meantime I will thank you for the loan of a lanthorn; the night is one of most unchristian darkness.’

“Solomon had now reclined his head upon the table as if for sleep, which he very probably would have indulged in, despite of all opposition; but just at this moment his horse, car, and servant most opportunely arrived, and with the aid of Bob, succeeded in getting him away, much against his own inclination; for it would appear by his language that he had no intention whatsoever of departing, if left to himself.

“‘I shall not go,’ said he; ’it is permitted to me to sojourn here this night.  Where is Eliza?  Oh!  Eliza, my darling—­these precious little frailties.’

“‘Bring the little hypocrite home out of this,’ said she, with a good deal of indignation; for, in truth, the worthy saint uttered the last words in so significant a voice, with such a confidential crow, as might have thrown out intimations not quite favorable to her sense of propriety on the occasion.  He was literally forced out, therefore; but not until he had made several efforts to grasp Eliza’s hand, and to get his arm around her.

“’She’s a sweet creature—­a delightful dove; but too innocent.  Oh!  Eliza, these precious little frailties!—­these precious little frailties!’

“‘It’s a shame,’ said Eliza, ’and a scandal to see any man making such pretensions to religion, in such a state.’

“‘In all piety and truth,’ said Bob, ’I say he’s a burning and a shining light!’

     “’ King James he pitched his tents between
     Their lines for to retire,’ &c., &c.

“And so they departed, very much to the satisfaction of Eliza and Boots, who were both obliged to sit up until his departure, although fatigued with a long day’s hard and incessant labor.  I also retired to my pillow, where I lay for a considerable time reflecting on the occurrences of the night, and the ease with which an ingenious hypocrite may turn the forms, but not the spirit of religion, to the worst and most iniquitous purpose.”

* * * * *

And thus far our friend, Mr. Easel, whom we leave to follow up his examinations into the state of the Castle Cumber property, and its management, hoping that discoveries and disclosures may at some future day be of service to the tenantry on that fine estate, as well as to the country at large.  In the meantime, we beg our readers to accompany us to the scene of many an act of gross corruption, where jobs, and jobbing, and selfishness in their worst shapes, aided by knavery, fraud, bigotry, party rancor, personal hate, and revenge long cherished—­where active loyalty and high political Protestantism, assuming the name of religion, and all the other passions and prejudices that have been suffered to scourge the country so long—­have often been in full operation, without check, restraint, or any wholesome responsibility, that might, or could, or ought to have protected the property of the people from rapine, and their persons from oppression.  The scene we allude to is the Grand Jury Room of Castle Cumber.