person so excommunicated is also condemned to
damnation at the second coming.]

But though Mr O'Joscelyn did not absolutely give utterance to such
imprecations as these against the wolves who, as he thought, destroyed
the lambs of his flock,--or rather, turned his sheep into foxes,--yet
he by no means concealed his opinion, or hid his light under a bushel.
He spent his life--an eager, anxious, hard-working life, in denouncing
the scarlet woman of Babylon and all her abominations; and he did so
in season and out of season: in town and in country; in public and in
private; from his own pulpit, and at other people's tables; in highways
and byways; both to friends--who only partly agreed with him, and to
strangers, who did not agree with him at all. He totally disregarded
the feelings of his auditors; he would make use of the same language
to persons who might in all probability be Romanists, as he did to
those whom he knew to be Protestants. He was a most zealous and
conscientious, but a most indiscreet servant of his Master. He made
many enemies, but few converts. He rarely convinced his opponents, but
often disgusted his own party. He had been a constant speaker at public
meetings; an orator at the Rotunda, and, on one occasion, at Exeter
Hall. But even his own friends, the ultra Protestants, found that he
did the cause more harm than good, and his public exhibitions had been
as much as possible discouraged. Apart from his fanatical enthusiasm,
he was a good man, of pure life, and simple habits; and rejoiced
exceedingly, that, in the midst of the laxity in religious opinions
which so generally disfigured the age, his wife and his children were
equally eager and equally zealous with himself in the service of their
Great Master.

A beneficed clergyman from the most benighted, that is, most Papistical
portion of Connaught, would be sure, thought Mr O'Joscelyn, to have a
fellow-feeling with him; to sympathise with his wailings, and to have
similar woes to communicate.

"How many Protestants have you?" said he to Mr Armstrong, in the
drawing-room, a few minutes after they had been introduced to each
other. "I had two hundred and seventy in the parish on New Year's day;
and since that we've had two births, and a very proper Church of
England police-serjeant has been sent here, in place of a horrid
Papist. We've a great gain in Serjeant Woody, my lord."

"In one way we certainly have, Mr O'Joscelyn," said