LETTER VI.

FROM MISS BIDDY FUDGE, TO MRS.

ELIZABETH

How I grieve you're not with us!-pray, come, if

you can,

Ere we're robb'd of this dear, oratorical man, Who combines in himself all the multiple glory Of Orangeman, Saint, quondam Papist and Tory ;— (Choice mixture! like that from which, duly confounded,

The best sort of brass was, in old times, compounded)

The sly and the saintly, the worldly and godly,
All fused down in brogue so deliciously oddly!
In short, he's a dear-and such audiences draws,
Such loud peals of laughter and shouts of ap-
plause,

As can't but do good to the Protestant cause.

Poor dear Irish Church!-he to-day sketch'd a

view

Of her hist'ry and prospects, to me at least new,
And which (if it takes as it ought) must arouse
The whole Christian world her just rights to espouse.
As to reasoning—you know, dear, that's now of no

use,

People still will their facts and dry figures produce,
As if saving the souls of a Protestant flock were
A thing to be managed "according to Cocker!"
In vain do we say, (when rude radicals hector
At paying some thousands a year to a Rector,
In places where Protestants never yet were,)
"Who knows but young Protestants may be born
there?

And granting such accident, think, what a shame,
If they didn't find Rector and Clerk when they

came !

It is clear that, without such a staff on full pay,
These little Church embryos must go astray;
And, while fools are computing what Parsons would

cost,

Precious souls are meanwhile to the' Establishment

IX.

lost!

Ꮓ

?

In vain do we put the case sensibly thus ;-
They'll still with their figures and facts make a fuss,
And ask "if, while all, choosing each his own road,
Journey on, as we can, tow'rds the Heav'nly Abode,
It is right that seven eights of the trav❜llers should pay
For one eighth that goes quite a different way
Just as if, foolish people, this wasn't, in reality,
A proof of the Church's extreme liberality,
That, though hating Pop'ry in other respects,
She to Catholic money in no way objects;
And so lib'ral her very best Saints, in this sense,
That they ev'n go to heav'n at the Cath'lic's expense.

But, though clear to our minds all these arguments be,
People cannot or will not their cogency see;
And, I grieve to confess, did the poor Irish Church
Stand on reasoning alone, she'd be left in the
lurch.

It was therefore, dear Lizzy, with joy most sincere,
That I heard this nice Rev'rend O' something we've

here,

Produce, from the depths of his knowledge and

reading,

A view of that marvellous Church, far exceeding,

In novelty, force, and profoundness of thought, All that Irving himself, in his glory, e'er taught.

Looking through the whole history, present and past,

Of the Irish Law Church, from the first to the last ; Considering how strange its original birth

Such a thing having never before been on earthHow oppos'd to the instinct, the law, and the force Of nature and reason has been its whole course; Through centuries encount'ring repugnance, resist

ance,

Scorn, hate, execration—yet still in existence!
Considering all this, the conclusion he draws

Is that Nature exempts this one Church from her laws

That Reason, dumb-founder'd, gives up the dispute, And before the portentous anom❜ly stands mute;That, in short, 'tis a Miracle!—and, once begun, And transmitted through ages, from father to son, For the honour of miracles, ought to go on.

Never yet was conclusion so cogent and sound, Or so fitted the Church's weak foes to confound.

For, observe, the more low all her merits they place,
The more they make out the miraculous case,
And the more all good Christians must deem it pro-
fane

To disturb such a prodigy's marvellous reign.

As for scriptural proofs, he quite plac'd beyond doubt

That the whole in the Apocalypse may be found out, As clear and well-prov'd, he would venture to swear, As any thing else has been ever found there:While the mode in which, bless the dear fellow, he deals

With that whole lot of vials and trumpets and seals, And the ease with which vial on vial he strings, Shows him quite a first-rate at all these sort of things.

So much for theology :—as for the' affairs
Of this temporal world-the light, drawing-room

cares

And gay toils of the toilet, which, God knows, I seek, From no love of such things, but in humbleness meek,

And to be, as the' Apostle was, "weak with the weak,”