And now will TOBIAS CHOKEPEAR perform the religious duties of a Christian! Look at him, how he feeds upon every syllable of the minister. He turns the Prayer-book familiarly, as if it were his bank account, and, in a moment, lights upon the prayers set apart for the day. With what a composed, assured face he listens to the decalogue--how firm his voice in the responses--and though the effrontery of scandal avows that he shifts somewhat from Mrs. CHOKEPEAR'S eye at the mention of "the maid-servant"--we do not believe it.

It is thus CHOKEPEAR begins his Christmas-day. He comes to celebrate the event of the Incarnation of all goodness; to return "his most humble and hearty thanks" for the glory that Providence has vouchsafed to him in making him a Christian. He--Tobias CHOKEPEAR--might have been born a Gentoo! Gracious powers! he might have been doomed to trim the lamps in the Temple of Juggernaut--he might have come into this world to sweep the marble of the Mosque at Mecca--he might have been a faquir, with iron and wooden pins "stuck in his mortified bare flesh"--he might, we shudder to think upon the probability, have brandished his club as a New Zealander; and his stomach, in a state of heathen darkness to the humanising beauties of goose and apple-sauce, might, with unblessed appetite, have fed upon the flesh of his enemies. He might, as a Laplander, have driven a sledge, and fed upon walrus-blubber; and now is he an Englishman--a Christian--a carriage holder, and an eater of venison!

Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, December 25, 1841 — Part 2

It is plain that all these thoughts--called up by the eloquence of Doctor MANNAMOUTH, who preaches on the occasion--are busy in the bosom of CHOKEPEAR; and he sits on his soft cushion, with his eyelids declined, swelling and melting with gratitude for his blissful condition. Yes; he feels the glorious prerogative of his birth--the exquisite beauty of his religion. He ought to feel himself a happy man; and, glancing round his handsomely-appointed pew--he _does_.

Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, December 25, 1841 — Part 2

"A sweet discourse--a very sweet discourse," says CHOKEPEAR to several respectable acquaintance, as the organ plays the congregation out; and CHOKEPEAR looks round about him airily, contentedly; as though his conscience was as unseared as the green holly that decorates the pews; as though his heart was fresh, and red, and spotless as its berries.

Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 1, December 25, 1841 — Part 2