Poor men of England, consider not merely the fine and the expenses attendant upon absence from church, but reflect upon the want of that beautiful exercise of the spirit which, listening to precepts and parables in Holy Writ, delights to find for them practical illustrations in the political and social world about you.  We know you would not think of going to church in masquerade—­of reading certain lines and making certain responses as a bit of Sabbath ceremony, as necessary to a respectable appearance as a Sabbath shaving.  No; you are far away from the elegances of hypocrisy, and do not time your religion from eleven till one, making devotion a matter of the church clock.  By no means.  You go to hear, it may be, the Bishop of EXETER; and as we have premised, what a beautiful exercise for the intellect to discover in the political doings of his Grace—­in those acts which ultimately knock at your cupboard-doors—­only a practical illustration of the divine precept of doing unto all men as ye would they should do unto you!  Well, you pray for your daily bread; and with a profane thought of the price of the four pound loaf, your feelings are suddenly attuned to gratitude towards those who regulate the price of British corn.  We might run through the Scriptures from Genesis to Revelation, quoting a thousand benevolences illustrated by the rich and mighty of this land—­illustrated politically, socially, and morally, in their conduct towards the poor and destitute of Britain; and yet the stiffnecked pauper will not dispose his Sabbath to self-enjoyment—­will not go to church to be rejoiced!  By such disobedience, one would almost think that the poor were wicked enough to consider the church discipline of the Sabbath as no more than a ceremonious mockery of their six days wants and wretchedness.

The magistrates—­(would we knew their names, we would hang them up in the highways like the golden bracelets of yore)—­who have made John Jones religious through his pocket, are men of comprehensive genius.  There is no wickedness that they would not make profitable to the Church.  Hence, it appears from Lord BROUGHAM’S speech that John Jones “was guilty of other excesses, and had been sent to prison for a violation of that dormant—­he wished he could say of it obsolete—­law!” There being “other excesses” for which, it appears, there is no statute remedy, the magistrates commit a piece of pious injustice, and lump sundry laical sins into the one crime against the Church. John Jones,—­for who shall conceive the profanity of man?—­may have called one of these magistrates “goose” or “jackass;” and the offence against the justice is a contempt of the parson.  After this, can the race of John Joneses fail to venerate Christianity as recommended by the Bench?

We have a great admiration of English Law, yet in the present instance, we think she shares very unjustly with Mother Church.  For instance, Church in its meekness, says to John Jones, “You come not to my house on Sunday:  pay a shilling.” John Jones refuses.  “What!” exclaims Law—­“refuse the modest request of my pious sister?  Refuse to give her a little shilling!  Give me fourteen.”  Hence, in this Christian country, law is of fourteen times the consequence of religion.