could so madly rush upon the sharp theological spears of their own beloved clergymen.  Dismay, or doubt, or apprehension of any kind, were altogether out of the question, as was evident from the proud look, the elated eye, and the confident demeanor by which each of them might be distinguished.  Here and there, you might notice an able-bodied, coarse-faced Methodist Preacher, with lips like sausages, sombre visage, closely cropped hair, trimmed across his face, sighing from time to time, and, with eyes half closed, offering up a silent prayer for victory over the Scarlet Lady; or, perhaps, thinking of the fat ham and chicken, that were to constitute that day’s dinner, as was not improbable, if the natural meaning were to be attached to the savory spirit with which, from time to time, he licked, or rather sucked at, his own lips.  He and his class, many of whom, however, are excellent men, sat at a distance from the platform, not presuming to mingle with persons who consider them as having no title to the clerical character, except such as they conveniently bestow on each other.  Not so the Presbyterian Clergymen who were present.  They mingled with their brethren of the Establishment, from whom they differed only in a less easy and gentlemanly deportment, but yielded to them neither in kindness of intellect, firmness, nor the cool adroitness of men well read, and quite as well experienced in public speaking.  At the skirt of the platform sat the unassuming Mr. Clement, a calm spectator of the proceedings; and in the capacity of messenger appeared.  Darby O’Drive, dressed in black—­he had not yet entered upon the duties of his new office—­busily engaged in bringing in, and distributing oranges and other cooling fruit, to those of the Protestant party who were to address the meeting.  High aloft, in the most conspicuous situation on the platform, sat Solomon M’Slime, breathing of piety, purity, and humility.  He held a gilt Bible in his hands, in order to follow the parties in their scriptural quotations, and to satisfy himself of their accuracy, as well as that he might fall upon some blessed text, capable of enlarging his privileges.  There was in his countenance a serene happiness, a sweet benignity, a radiance of divine triumph, partly arising from the consciousness of his own inward state, and partly from the glorious development of scriptural truth which would soon be witnessed, to the utter discomfiture of Popery and the Man of Sin.  For some time before the business of the day commenced, each party was busily engaged in private conferences; in marking passages for reference, arranging notes, and fixing piles of books in the most convenient position.  Mr. Lucre was in full pomp, exceedingly busy, directing, assisting, and tending their wants, with a proud courtesy, and a suavity of manner, which no man could better assume.  The deportment and manners of the Roman Catholic clergy were strongly marked, and exceedingly well defined; especially in determination of character and vigor