be any other than base; or how can I and presented it to Melton, who foon complain of any persons betraying me became very serviceable in the office, for a reward, after they have been des- having the knack of rightly applying picable enough to let themselves out for himself to business; and fome lucky vahire as common hacknies.

cancies happening, Melton found him

self in three years time, from his first ************ coming into place, possessed of upwards

of 400l. per ann. Rightly applying yourThe Life of Melton. A real Story of self to bufiness, when in any public post, Persons now alive.

consists in the first place, on the readi

ness with which you obey, and oblige ALKING one day last week your superiors.

a-cross Bethnal.green, with an You are to give up every prior, e. old acquaintance, my friend stopped to very tender obligation, formerly conspeak to a most miserable object, who tracted. called him by his name. I walked You are to believe implicitly, in what flowly on, and when my friend over, they say to you. took mne, after apologizing for leaving If you are happy enough to have a me alone, he began the following nare pretty lister or niece, you are to take rative.

care to prepare the innocents, to be at The person whom you saw ine stop to their honour's service ; whenever they fpeak to, is named Melton : though to condescend to pay you a family visit. wretched an object now, I remember if your wite should be young and agreehim to keep his coach, his country. able, why — you may leave her att house, and was reputed worth upwards home, to entertain their worships. of thirty thousand pounds.

Shou'd you have any friend, from He was originally a link boy. A whom you have received great and finwealthy merchant, Mr. Cambridge, one gular favours, and he hould happen to evening coining from the play, took oppose those measures which your prethe lad to light him home. The mer

lent patrons in office, don't chute thou'd chant, as he followed the link, disco. be found fault with; you must be fure vered something of genius in the boy, to give their high mightinesses, the miby the aptitude of his replies, and re- nifterials, notice of every thing he does solving such a lad should not be loft, and lays. had him cloathed the next day, and The discontented part of inunkind, put to school; and in about thuee years who call every thing by out of the way time, Mr. Cambridge's only son was names; and only converse in the dial. ct fent to Oxford, and Melton aitended of defpondency, call fuch behaviour him there, in quality of a servitor.' pimping and informing ; but the polite,

His young master took a great fancy only allow it to be complaisance, or a to him, treated him inore like a friend method of strengthning your own inthan dependant; and after they had tereft. been some time at Oxford, young Cam Let those poor envious foot passen. - bridge hearing of a gentleman who gers, who cant't afford coach-hire, wanted to part with his place, in one curle those that take care to keep them. of the public offices, which was not on- felves out of the dirt. ly a sufficient income, but also a posi Honeyły twirls his boné of mutton in tion, that a man might make his for the garret, while Craft eats venison in tune in ; the young gentleman went up the first floor.--But to return to the to London immediately, and begged his history of Milton. father would purchase it for Meicon. He was looked upon to be a very

The old gentleman, charmed with serviceable agent, and soon found himkis son's generous disposition, bought it, felf noticed by the people in power.

His

His levee began to be crowded with ton adjourned to her cordial closet, to ré. well dressed persons of fashion, who, pair, by a proper application of spirits, butterily like, spread their gawdiness those that she had exhausted in the above to preferment's sun. While he, true altercation. tool to party, strutted among them, I must beg leave to observe, for the with that consequentiality to common honour of the fair sex, that as Mrs. to the insolence of office.

Melton declared the was old enough to While Melton was thus accumulat. know how to conduct herself, that it is ing wealth, Cambridge, jun. set out a moft base and pitiful assertion to say ; upon his travels ;, but before the young that Ladies ever deny their age. When gentleman had finished his tour, he was I appeal to every attendant upon female called home, his father lying at the assemblies, it the elderly part of Ladypoint of death.

visitants are not always avowing their The distance he was from England, own superiority and precedent in point when he received the letter, made him of time, by hinting at the younger fort, be above three months from the re. being romps and children, and hoydens, ceipt of it, before he came home; and and green girls, and giddy chits; now on bis arrival there, he found his mo on the other hand, the young ladies do ther married to Melton.

avail themselves in like manner, as for Mr. Cambridge expostulated with his example-pray am I to be made a girl mother, on her marriage with Melton, of all my life. Sure, papa, you would rather too warmly,--He thought it was not treat me like a baby I vow, Sir, a wedding somewhat too haftily con. I can't bear to be used fo childishly cluded for a person at her time of life. what, am I not old enough to know She replied, that a person at her time how to conduct myself; and several of life, sure was of a sufficient age to more such pleas, which every miss in know how to conduct herself.

her teens has a right to offer in arrest Son. But, madam, fome few months of judgment, or by way of bill of exlonger was necessary, I think, in re- ceptions against undue constraint, or the spect to my dear father's memory. impertinent advices of fuperannuated

Mother. Take care, son, that you reproof. don't do any thing worse to disgrace When Melton came home, bis wife your father's memory, than I have done. told him that her fon had not used her

Son. But, madam, let me beg leave well, reproaching her for marrying so to observe, that in the eye of the world – much beneath herself :. not that Mr.

Mother. I don't care for the world, Cambridge said so; — but some ladies, -I despise the world. – What has the like some counsellors, will add the force world to do with me? Am I a depen- of invention to assist their pleadings. dant upon it? no, thank heaven, nor Milton vowed revenge against his forupon you neither ; Sir, if I was I should mer benefactor for calling him a mean be a miserable woman, I fee that. fellow; and it is a common observation, The world, indeed! I won't be hit in that the lower born people are most hurt the teeth with the world by you, Sir, I at being called vulgar, and immediassure you. I won't be called to ac- ately commenced a suit of law against count by my son, truly. I won't ei- young Cambridge for some particular ther have your's, nor the world's advic jewels, which he pretended Mr. Camfing; and sure I am old enough to know bridge had, and were his wife's, Mrs. what to do, without bidding; and if Melton's property. Now these very you can't behave more dutifully, let me jewels Melton himself had secreted betell you, Sir, I don't desire to see you fore Mr. Cambridge arrived in Enghere again.

land. Mr. Cambridge, bowing, went away If the reader should wonder at such without making a reply, and Mrs. Mel villainy and ingratitude, let him but

look

look into the world properly, and see if But (where it seldom ever ends) fuch things are not at present in full Fromourmore dangerousseeming friends. practice.

I hate not foes, for they declare, Mr. Cambridge, irritated not only 'Tis war for war, and dare who dare ; at the falseness of the accusation, but But your fly, sneaking, worming souls, the baseness of the perpetrator, meet. Whom Friendship scorns, and Fear coning Melton in Grays inn, a few days

trouls, atter, caned him severely.

Who praise, support, and help by halves, Melton was too cunning to resent it, Like heifers, neither bulls nor calves ; as a man ought-00, he cowardly bore Who, in Hypocrisy's disguise, the indignity, and brought his action Are truly as the serpent wise, of affault ; and in less than three years, But cannot all the precept love, by repeated insults on Melton's fide, And be as harmless as the dove. which were resented rather in too pre. Who hold each charitable meeting, cipitate a manner by Mr. Cambridge, To mean no more than good sound the young gentleman had run himself

eating, out, in defending so many various pro. While each becomes a hearty fellow secutions, which Melton took care to According as he waxes mellow, make as expensive as possible,

And kindly helps the main design, For notwithstanding the happiness we By drinking its fuccels in wine; enjoy in such a number of excellent And when his feet and senfes reel, laws, the integrity of the courts of juf- Totters with correspondent zeal; tice, and the wisdom of the admini. Nay, would appear a patron wife, ftrators, a monied villain may ruin an But that his wisdom's in disguise, honest man's fortune, if he is not ca. And would harrangue, but that his pable of guarding against what is call mouth, ed chicanery.

Which ever hates the fin of drowth,
Catching the full perpetual glass,
Cannot afford a word to país.

Such, wholike true churchi-wardens eat, From the St. James's MAGAZINE. Because the parish pays the treat,

And of their bellyful secure, CHARITY. A SATYRE.

O’erfee, or over look the poor, Inscribed to the Rev. Mr. Hanbury.

Who would no doubt be wond'rous just,

And faithful Guardians of their trust, By ROBERT LLOYD.

But think the deed might run more cleaORTH is excis'd, and Virtue

ver, pays

To them and to their heirs for ever, A heavy tax for barren praise. That Charity, too apt to roam, A friend to universal Man,

Might end, where she begins, at home; Is universal good your plan?

Who make all public good a trade, God may perhaps your project bless,

Benevolence a mere parade, But man shall strive to thwart success.

And Charity a cloak for fin, Tho’the grand scheme thy thoughts pur. To keep it snug and warm within ; sue,

Who flatter, only to betray, Befpeak a noble generous view,

Who promise much and never pay, Where Charity o'er all presiącs,

Who wind themselves about your heart And Sense approves what Virtue guides, With hypocritic, knavisha art, Yet wars and tumults will commence,

Tell

you what wond'rous things they're For rogues hate virtue, blockheads sense.

doing,

And undermine you to your ruin ; Believe me, Oppofition grows

Such, or of low or high estate, Not always from our real focs, To speak the honeft truth, I hate : VOL. III,

с

I view

W

I view their tricks with indignation, And like a lordly ship, which braves
And loath each fulsom protestation,

The roar of winds and rush of waves,
As I would loath a whore's embrace, Weather all storms, which jealous hate
Who smiles, and smirks, and strokes my Or frantic malice may create.
face,

'Tis Conscience, a reward alone, And all so tender, fond and kind, Conscience,who plac'd on virtue's throne, As free of body, as of mind, Eyes raging men, or raging seas, Affects the softness of the Dove, Undaunted, firm with heart at ease. And p -xes me to thew her love.

From her dark cave, tho’ Envy rise The Maiden wither'd, wrinkled pale, With hollow cheeks, and jaundic'd eyes, Whosecharms tho'strong are rather stale, Tho' Hatred league with Folly vain, Will use that weapon call'd a tongue,

And Spleen and Rancour join the train ; To wound the beauteous and the young. Shall Virtue shrink, abalh'd, afraid,

-What,Delia handsome !-- well! 1.-own And tremble at an idle shade ? I'm either blind or stupid grown.

Fear works upon the fool or knave, - The girl is well enough to pass,

An honest man is always brave. A rosy, simple, rustic lass;

While Opposition's fruitless aim -But there's no meaning in her face,

Is as the bellows to the flame, And then her air, so void of grace !

And, like a Pagan persecution,
And all the world, with half an eye,

Enforces Faith and Resolution.
May see her fhape grows quite awry. Tho' Prejudice in narrow minds,

I speak not from an ill design, The mental eye of Reason blinds;
For she's a favourite of nine,

Tho' Wit, which not e'en friends will
Tho’I could wish that she would wear spare,
A more reserv'd becoming air ; Affcct the sneering, laughing air,
Not that I hear of indiscretions, Tho' Dullness, in her monkish gown,
Such folks, you know, make no con Displays the Wisdom of a frown,
feflions,

Yet Truth will force herself, in spite
Tho'the World says, that parson there, Of all their efforts into light.
That smock-fac'dman,with darkish hair,

See Bigot Monks in Spain prevail,
He who wrote verses on her bird,

See Galilæo dragg'd to gaol :
The simplest things I ever heard,

Hear the grave Doctors of the schools,
Makes frequent visits there of late,
And is become exceeding great ;

The Golgotha of learned Fools,

As damnable and impious brand This I myself aver is true,

That art they cannot understand, I saw him lead her to his pew.

And out of zeal pervert the Bible, Thus scandal, like a false quotation, As if it were a standing Libel, Misrepresents in defamation;

On every good and useful plan And where the haply cannot spy That rises in the brain of man. A loop whereon to hang a lye,

Bigotry! whose frantic

rage Turns every action wrong side out Has blotted half the classic page, To bring her paultry tale about.

And in Religion's drunken fit,
Thus excellence of every kind, Murder'd the Greek and Roman wit;
Whether of body or of mind,

Who zealous for that Faith's encreale,
Is but a mark set up on high,

Whose ways are righteousness and peace,
For knaves to guide their arrows by, With rods and whips and sword,and axe,
A mere Scotch Post for public itch, With prisons, tortures, flames and racks;
Wherehog,or man, may scrub his breech. With persecution's fiery goad,

But thanks to nature, which ordains Enforcing some new-fangld mode,
A just reward for all our pains, Wouldst pluck down reason from her
And makes us stem, with secret pride,

throne
Hoarfe Disappointment's rugged tide, To raise some fantom of thy own;

Alas!

Mall pay

her more,

Alas! thy fury undiscerning,

When learning's more enlighten'd ray Which blasts, and stunts, and hews up

Shall drive these fickly fogs away ;
Learning,

A thankful age

Than all her troubles hurt before.
Like an ill-judging zealous friend,
Blasphemes that wisdom

See shame and scorn await on those
defend.
you

Who poorly dar'd to be her foes,
Go, kick the prostituted whores, But will the grateful voice of fame
The nine Itale virgins out of doors ; Sink truth, and Galilæo's name?
For let the Abbess beat her drum,

How wilful, obstinate and blind, Eleven thousand troops shall come ;

Are the main herd of human kind ! All female forms, and virgins true,

Well said the Wit, who well bad tried As ever Saint or Poet knew.

That malice which his parts defied; And glorious be the honour'd name

When merit's fon begin to break, Of Winifrede, of sainted fame,

The Dunces stretch, and strive to wake, Who to the church like lightning sped, And amity of Dunce with Dunce, And ran three miles without her head, Fingers out genius all at once. (Well might the modest Lady run,

As you may find the honey out, Since 'twas to keep her maiden one)

By seeing all the flies about. And when before the congregation

All ugly women hate a toast ; The prince fell dead for reparation,

The goodliest fruit is pick'd the most; Secure of life as well as honour,

The ivy winds about the oak, Ran baek with both her heads upon her. And to the fairest comes the finoke.

No matter of what shape or size, Escap'd the dangers of the deep, Gulp down the Legendary Lies, When Gulliver fell fast asleep, Believe what neither God ordains, Stretch'd on the lilliputian Itrand, Nor Christ allows, nor sense maintains; A giant in a pigmy land ; Make Saint of Pope, or Saint of Thief, Watchful against impending barms, Believe, almost in unbelief;

All Lilliput cried out, To arms;
* Yet with thy folemn priestly air, The trumpets echoed all around,
By book and bell and candle swear, The captain flept exceeding found,
That God has made his own elect Tho'crowds of undistinguish'd lize
But from your stem and favourite sect; Alail'd his body, legs and thighs,
That He who made the world, has blelt While clouds of arrows flew apace.
One part alone, to damn the rest, And fell like feathers on his face,
As if th' Allmerciful and Just,

[To be continued in our next.]
Who formed us of one common dust,
Had render'd up his own decree,
And lent his attributes to thee.

From the St. James's MAGAZINE,
Thus his own eyes the Bigot blinds,
To shut out light from human minds,

On a Country Parish Clerk. And the clear truth (an einanation N harsh grating stanzas by Tom From the great Author of creation,

Sternhold penn'd, A beam transmitted from on high, Like the whetting a saw from begin. To bring us nearer to the sky,

ning to end; While ev'ry path by science trod, In still harsher founds, Sternhold's bara Leads us with wonder up to God) binger says, Is doom'd by ignorance to make Let us sing just two Itaves to God's Atonement at the Martyr's stake ; glory and praise. Tho', like pure gold, th’illustrious dame, But had David repented in no better Comes forth the brighter from the flame. metre, No persecution will avail,

We still might have wanted ev'n Chrift No inquisition racks, nor gaol;

and St. Peter ;
C 2

No

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