ntinent. We
can contradict this: that gentleman is a member of the Kirk of Scotland;
and his name is to be found, much to his honor, in the list of seceders
from the congregation of Mr. Fletcher. While the generality, as we have
said, are content to jog on in the safe trammels of national orthodoxy,
symptoms of a sectarian spirit have broken out in quarters where we
should least have looked for it. Some of the ladies at both houses are
deep in controverted points. Miss F----e, we are credibly informed, is
_Sub-_, and Madame V----a _Supra_-Lapsarian. Mr. Pope is the last of the
exploded sect of the Ranters. Mr. Sinclair has joined the Shakers. Mr.
Grimaldi, Senior, after being long a Jumper, has lately fallen into some
whimsical theories respecting the Fall of Man; which he understands,
not of an allegorical, but a _real tumble_, by which the whole body of
humanity became, as it were, lame to the performance of good works.
Pride he will have to be nothing but a stiff neck; irresolution, the
nerves shaken; an inclination to sinister paths, crookedness of the
joints; spiritual deadness, a paralysis; want of charity, a contraction
in the fingers; despising of government, a broken head; the plaster, a
sermon; the lint to bind it up, the text; the probers, the preachers; a
pair of crutches, the old and new law; a bandage, religious obligation:
a fanciful mode of illustration, derived from the accidents and habits
of his past calling _spiritualized_, rather than from any accurate
acquaintance with the Hebrew text, in which report speaks him but a raw
scholar. Mr. Elliston, from all that we can learn, has his religion yet
to choose; though some think him a Muggletonian."

* * * * *

Willis, in his "Pencillings by the Way," describing his interview with
Charles and Mary Lamb, says,--"Nothing could be more delightful than the
kindness and affection between the brother and the sister, though Lamb
was continually taking advantage of her deafness to mystify her with the
most singular gravity upon every topic that was started. 'Poor Mary!'
said he, 'she hears all of an epigram but the point.' 'What are you
saying of me, Charles?' she asked. 'Mr. Willis,' said he, raising his
voice, 'admires _your_ "Confessions of a Drunkard" very much, and I was
saying it was no merit of yours that you understood the subject.' We had
been speaking of this admirable essay (which is his own) half an hour
before."

That