and presently resuming the thread of his discourse, went on to speak of the unquestionably serious consequences attending a persevering indifference to religion; and proceeded to give striking instances of it in--the merchant in his counting-house, and on 'change; the lawyer in his office; the tradesman in his shop; the operative in the manufactory; showing how each was absorbed in his calling--_laboring for the meat which perisheth_, till he had lost all appetite and relish for spiritual food, and never once troubled himself about "the momentous concerns of hereafter!" Upon these topics he dwelt with such force and feeling, that he sent his distinguished congregation away--those of them, at least, who could retain any recollection of what they had heard for five minutes after entering their carriages--with lively fears that there was a very black look-out, indeed, for--the kind of persons whom Mr. Velvet had mentioned--viz. tailors, milliners, mercers, jewellers, and so forth; and who added graver offences, and of a more positive character, to the misconduct which he had pointed out--in their extortion and their rapacity! Would that some of them had been present!--Thus was it that dear Mr. Velvet sent away his hearers overflowing with Christian sympathy; very well pleased with Mr. Velvet, but infinitely better pleased with themselves! The deep impression he had made, was evidenced by a note which he received that evening from the Duchess of Broadacre; most earnestly begging permission to copy his "beautiful sermon," in order to send it to her sister, Lady Belle Almacks, who (through early dissipation) was ill of a decline at Naples. I may as well here mention, that about the time of which I am speaking, there came out an engraved portrait of "the Rev. Morphine Velvet, M. A., Minister of Rosemary Chapel, St. James," and a very charming picture it was, representing the aforesaid Mr. Velvet in pulpit costume and attitude, with hands gracefully outstretched, and his face directed upward, with a heavenly expression; suggesting to you the possibility that some fine day, when his hearers least expected it, he might gently rise out of his pulpit into the air, like Stephen, with heaven open before him, and _be no more seen of men!_