Sunday traders as craving, through the sign-manual of the Sovereign, license to open a gorgeous temple of rampant pleasure, and to filch, by Royal authority, both coin and conscience from every unit of the countless myriads, which from Sunday to Sunday, they know, will throng to this haunt of unzoned enjoyment, and this under the wicked plea of sympathy for the poor.” These are but specimens of the style of writing adopted by the self-elected defenders of “Sabbath observance,” in order to excite their readers to the proper pitch of apprehension. But _ex pede Herculem_. They will suffice to indicate the real or affected panic which seems to have seized the leading organs of the religious world, at the proposed boon to the Crystal Palace Company—an alarm, be it observed, which may be communicated to thousands of minds, and result in a virulent, perhaps a formidable movement. Before matters have assumed this shape, it in worth while to inquire what occasion there is for all this outcry, and whether Christian men are either right, honest, or wise, in originating a wide-spread agitation to prevent the concession of the promised Charter. The end sought by the objectors is twofold—first, the prevention of the threatened act of “Sabbath desecration” by Royal authority; and second, the entire closing of the Palace on Sunday. To produce the greater effect upon the public, the two questions are ingeniously, but unscrupulously, mixed up, and furnish a wide margin for that kind of indignant declamation on encroaching upon “the poor man’s day of rest,” opening the floodgates of vice and irreligion, &c., &c., which is likely to tell on the unreflecting. For purposes of dispassionate inquiry, the questions are better separated.