ing he must be off at break of day. Before he rose, however, the policemen came in and seized him. He asked what he had done, and they laughed, and said he was very simple about it.

'This is poor John's statement,' the rector concluded with a sigh; and certainly it seems straightforward enough.'

'Oh! he will soon be released,' we cried.

He shook his head.

'You would be astonished,' he said, at the different impression made by the examinations taken at the inquest. The first is that of O'Toole, who says in the usual way, that he knew the deceased, and had been for years on most intimate and friendly terms with him; that on Tuesday last he accompanied him and John Tennisson to the fair; that knowing an ill-will subsisted between them, he wished to keep them apart, but that he and the young woman who was with him joined them to take some refreshment in the evening; that a violent quarrel then took place, and that fearing the prisoner would fasten the door and keep them within, he got his back to it until the people of the house came in, when the young woman being very much frightened, Tennisson took her away directly, saying that Delany, being her relative, might thank her for getting off so well that time; but that he might meet him again, when escape would not be so easy.

'The people of the house being called, corroborated this testimony, and deposed to these words having been used; adding, that the girl put her hand on the prisoner's arm, and said, “Hush, John dear; don't get yourself and me into more trouble :" to which he answered, that if she was not with him

the case would be different; and that he was in a violent passion going out, but had nothing in his hand.

'The examination of O'Toole was then resumed, who said that the prisoner was very anxious to get the girl to go back without him, which he at last succeeded in, and then he joined them again. They walked together about half a mile, when the witness found he had left a bundle, containing some things he got at the fair, at a public-house in the town; he wanted the prisoner to go back with him, but he said he was too much tired, but that he would walk slowly on with the deceased, or sit down to rest until he overtook them. Delany would have gone with him, but after what the prisoner said he refused. O'Toole went back alone, and was detained longer than he expected in seeking for his parcel; he then hurried after the two men, but they must have walked exceedingly fast; he is considered a very fast runner, and ran most of the way, but saw no traces of them until he found the deceased lying on the road side. He was dreadfully alarmed, and ran back to the town: he does not know what he said at first about it; Tennisson did not tell him he had to go another way, and he does not know how the police found he had gone in that direction instead of going to his home.

'The people of the public-house were called, who deposed to the truth of this part of the statement, and said O'Toole shewed great anxiety to get back, saying he wished to overtake the two men who had gone before him.

'Not one witness appeared in poor John's favour, and the only favourable circumstances I know, is,

that Kate was aware of his intention of going to to see his landlord, and let me know of it. Her testimony, however, will not be of much avail. It is indeed a singular affair, and it is still more so that the unfortunate man's body should be found not more than fifty yards from the turn which Tennisson should have taken as his direct road, but which he asserts he did not go on to, but turned off by one nearer to the town, but which it seems improbable that any one should take at that hour of the night, being fully double the distance. If it could be proved he went that road it would be clear that he must have parted with Delany before his death took place; but it is a mysterious business. May He with whom is no darkness at all make it clear, nor suffer the guiltless to perish, if indeed he is guiltless.' 'I trust there is no danger,' I observed. The rector looked very grave. dence can condemn,' he said, 'Tennisson will be condemned; there is a cloud of witnesses against him; in fact, by the coroner's inquest he is condemned already.'

'If abundant evi

Nanny turned to the window and shed tears; and as Mr. Hastings, and I believe myself too, were regarding her with concern at her emotion, she said'Papa, what did Kate do?'

'Poor girl! she was unable to see Tennisson, so she wandered about in the town, making inquiries, and listening to reports, which aggravated her sufferings a thousand-fold: but when I was coming away I found her waiting at the gate; she drew close to me, and said, in her simple yet somehow impressive manner, "Is he innocent, sir?" I replied, I could not tell. She looked disappointed, and said, "Did

you ask him my question, sir?" "Yes, and he was affected by it. He told me to tell you he hoped you did not suspect him, whoever else did; that if he thought you had any doubts of his guilt, he would not say a word; but he did not mistrust you; he knew you suffered more than himself, and therefore he told you he had sins enough, he felt, to answer for; but he was clear of this, and he entreated you, if you believed him, not to give way to grief, but to put your trust in God, and to pray for yourself and him.'

Then he is innocent!' cried Kate. God be praised, that is all I want!' and in full and beautiful reliance in his truth, the poor thing went away from the prison without another word.'

(To be continued.)

A MORE dangerous opinion cannot be well entertained (and mortal foes to religion and their country are those who propagate it) than the opinion, that intolerance is a mere accident of Popery, and not its very essence. Repeatedly has it been shewn, from the authentic articles of the Romish church, from its legal constitutions, and out of writers of the highest authority within its pale, as well as by an overbalancing induction of historical facts, that the spirit of the popedom never relents towards those who refuse it implicit obedience.-Rev. J. N. Pearson.

PROFANITY OF WORKMEN.

MY DEAR MADAM,

I HAVE lately received a letter from a much-valued friend, who is also one of your subscribers, and as it relates to a very important subject, in which some of your readers may feel interested, I transmit it to you, hoping that you may find it worthy of insertion.

'Can you, my dear friend, contrive to insert a few words in our favourite little Magazine, upon a subject in which I have felt a deep interest? Lately, when the front of the house where I lodge was in course of repair and painting, I was greatly annoyed by the swearing and bad language of the workpeople. They looked very decent men, and were steady at their work; but in their talk with each other, they frequently used very profane expressions, and you will imagine how much I was pained and shocked by it. Now, if every Christian family, when engaging work-people from a builder, painter, or other master tradesman, would stipulate that the men sent should be such as do not swear, (both for the sake of their servants and themselves,) I cannot but think it would have a good effect in repressing profanity among the lower orders. The master would be interested in the suppression of swearing among his men, because he would know it to be a check to his custom; and the men, in their turn, would feel it to be a check to their employment,