nd sensuality; robbing the poor, whilst they themselves go
to h--l worth hundreds of thousands. I cannot forget that your church is
a market for venal and titled slaves, who are bought by the minister of
the day to uphold his party--that it is a carcass thrown to the wolfish,
sons and brothers of the English and Irish aristocracy--and that
its bishops and dignitaries exceed in pride, violence of temper, and
insolence of deportment, any other class of persons in society. Sure
they have their chaplains to pray for them--but my soul to glory--those
that pray by proxy will go to heaven by proxy--and so they ought.
Eh--faith I'm peppering you."

"_De te fabula narratur_. Don't you live by praying for others? What are
your masses?"

"Fabula, why, a fibula for your fabula, man alive. What is your new
fangled creed, but a fabula from the beginning?"

"And are you yourself not a hireling in every sense of the word? Do you
not make merchandise of the crimes and ignorance of your people?"

"Make merchandise! This from you who take away a tenth part of the poor
man's labor without the consciousness of even professing his creed?"

"Do you ever worship the Lord aright, or address him in any language
which the people can understand?"

"And do you ever seek salvation with half the zeal displayed when you
lay your keen nostril to the trail of a fresh benefice or a fat mitre.
Do you not, most of you, think more of your hounds and kennels, than you
do of either your churches or your flocks?"

Mr. Lucre at length pulled up his horse and fixing his eyes on Father
M'Cabe, inquired why he should have fastened upon him in so offensive a
manner; and Mr. M'Cabe pulling up the hack we spoke of, fixed a pair of
fiery orbs on him in return, and replied--

"I haven't done with you yet, my worthy parson. You needn't scowl, I
say, for if you had as many chins upon you as there are articles in
your creed, I wouldn't be prevented from bringing you to an account for
interfering with my flock."

"Rude and wretched man, how?"

"By attempting to pervert Darby O'Drive, the bailiff, and seduce him
over to your heresies."

"I would bring him over from his idolatry and superstition. But why do
you, sir, tamper with a man--named--named--let me see--Bob--Bob Beatty,
I think, who belongs to my congregation?"

"Simply because I wish to bring him over from a false church to the true
one."

"It appears that because this simple person has been afflicte