be any other than bafe; or how can I complain of any perfons betraying me for a reward, after they have been def picable enough to let themselves out for hire as common hacknies.

and prefented it to Melton, who foon became very ferviceable in the office, having the knack of rightly applying himself to business; and fome lucky vacancies happening, Melton found himfelf in three years time, from his first coming into place, poffeffed of upwards of 400l. per ann. Rightly applying your

W

ALKING one day last week a-crofs Bethnal-green, with an old acquaintance, my friend stopped to speak to a most miserable object, who called him by his name. I walked flowly on, and when my friend over, took me, after apologizing for leaving me alone, he began the following nar rative.

The person whom you faw me stop to fpeak to, is named Melton: though fo wretched an object now, I remember him to keep his coach, his countryhoufe, and was reputed worth upwards of thirty thousand pounds.

He was originally a link boy. A wealthy merchant, Mr. Cambridge, one evening coming from the play, took the lad to light him home. The mer. chant, as he followed the link, difcovered something of genius in the boy, by the aptitude of his replies, and refolving fuch a lad fhould not be loft, had him cloathed the next day, and put to fchool; and in about three years time, Mr. Cambridge's only fon was fent to Oxford, and Melton attended him there, in quality of a fervitor.

His young mafter took a great fancy to him, treated him more like a friend than dependant; and after they had been fome time at Oxford, young Cam- bridge hearing of a gentleman who wanted to part with his place, in one of the public offices, which was not only a fufficient income, but also a pofition, that a man might make his fortune in; the young gentleman went up to London immediately, and begged his father would purchase it for Meiton.

The old gentleman, charmed with his fon's generous difpofition, bought it,

confifts in the first place, on the readinefs with which you obey, and oblige your fuperiors.

You are to give up every prior, e very tender obligation, formerly contracted.

You are to believe implicitly, in what they fay to you.

If you are happy enough to have a pretty fifter or niece, you are to take care to prepare the innocents, to be at their honour's fervice; whenever they condefcend to pay you a family visit. If your wife fhould be young and agreeable, why - you may leave her at home, to entertain their worships.

Shou'd you have any friend, from whom you have received great and fingular favours, and he should happen to oppose those measures which your prefent patrons in office, don't chufe fhou'd be found fault with; you must be fure to give their high mightineffes, the minifterials, notice of every thing he does and fays.

The difcontented part of mankind, who call every thing by out of the way names; and only converfe in the diale& of defpondency, call fuch behaviour pimping and informing; but the polite, only allow it to be complaifance, or a method of strengthning your own intereft.

Let thofe poor envious foot paffengers, who cant't afford coach-hire, curle thofe that take care to keep themfelves out of the dirt.

Honefty twirls his bone of mutton in the garret, while Craft eats venison in the first floor. But to return to the hiftory of Milton.

He was looked upon to be a very ferviceable agent, and foon found himfelf noticed by the people in power.

His levee began to be crowded with well dressed persons of fashion, who, butterfly like, fpread their gawdiness to preferment's fun. While he, true tool to party, ftrutted among them, with that confequentiality fo common to the infolence of office.

While Melton was thus accumulating wealth, Cambridge, jun. fet out upon his travels;. but before the young gentleman had finished his tour, he was called home, his father lying at the point of death.

The distance he was from England, when he received the letter, made him be above three months from the re ceipt of it, before he came home; and on his arrival there, he found his mother married to Melton.

Mr. Cambridge expoftulated with his mother, on her marriage with Melton, rather too warmly.-He thought it was a wedding fomewhat too haftily concluded for a person at her time of life. She replied, that a perfon at her time of life, fure was of a fufficient age to know how to conduct herfelf.

Son. But, madam, fome few months longer was neceffary, I think, in respect to my dear father's memory.

Mother. Take care, fon, that you don't do any thing worfe to disgrace your father's memory, than I have done.

Son. But, madam, let me beg leave to observe, that in the eye of the worldMother. I don't care for the world, -I despise the world. What has the world to do with me? Am I a dependant upon it? no, thank heaven, nor upon you neither; Sir, if I was I should be a miserable woman, I fee that. The world, indeed!—I won't be hit in the teeth with the world by you, Sir, I affure you. I won't be called to account by my fon, truly. I won't either have your's, nor the world's advifing; and fure I am old enough to know what to do, without bidding; and if you can't behave more dutifully, let me tell you, Sir, I don't defire to fee you here again.

Mr. Cambridge, bowing, went away without making a reply, and Mrs. Mel

ton adjourned to her cordial closet, to répair, by a proper application of spirits, thofe that he had exhausted in the above altercation.

I muft beg leave to obferve, for the honour of the fair fex, that as Mrs. Melton declared fhe was old enough to know how to conduct herself, that it is a most base and pitiful affertion to say; that Ladies ever deny their age. When I appeal to every attendant upon female affemblies, if the elderly part of Ladyvifitants are not always avowing their own fuperiority and precedent in point of time, by hinting at the younger fort, being romps and children, and hoydens, and green girls, and giddy chits; now on the other hand, the young ladies do avail themselves in like manner, as for example-pray am I to be made a girl of all my life. Sure, papa, you would not treat me like a baby-I vow, Sir, I can't bear to be used so childishly what, am I not old enough to know how to conduct myfelf; and several more fuch pleas, which every mifs in her teens has a right to offer in arrest of judgment, or by way of bill of exceptions against undue constraint, or the impertinent advices of fuperannuated reproof.

When Melton came home, his wife told him that her fon had not used her well, reproaching her for marrying fo much beneath herself: not that Mr. Cambridge faid fo; - but some ladies, like fome counsellors, will add the force of invention to affift their pleadings.

Milton vowed revenge against his former benefactor for calling him a mean fellow; and it is a common obfervation, that the lower born people are most hurt at being called vulgar, and immediately commenced a fuit of law against young Cambridge for fome particular jewels, which he pretended Mr. Cambridge had, and were his wife's, Mrs. Melton's property. Now thefe very jewels Melton himself had fecreted before Mr. Cambridge arrived in England.

If the reader fhould wonder at fuch villainy and ingratitude, let him but

look

look into the world properly, and fee if fuch things are not at prefent in full practice.

Mr. Cambridge, irritated not only at the falfeness of the accufation, but the bafeness of the perpetrator, meet.

ing Melton in Grays inn, a few days

after, caned him severely.

Melton was too cunning to refent it, as a man ought no, he cowardly bore the indignity, aud brought his action of affault; and in less than three years, by repeated infults on Melton's fide, which were resented rather in too precipitate a manner by Mr. Cambridge, the young gentleman had run himself out, in defending so many various profecutions, which Melton took care to make as expensive as possible.

For notwithstanding the happiness we enjoy in fuch a number of excellent laws, the integrity of the courts of juftice, and the wifdom of the admini. ftrators, a monied villain may ruin an honeft man's fortune, if he is not capable of guarding against what is called chicanery.

But (where it seldom ever ends)
From ourmore dangerousfeemingfriends.
I hate not foes, for they declare,
'Tis war for war, and dare who dare
But your fly, fneaking, worming fouls,
Whom Friendship fcorns, and Fear con-
trouls,

Who praife, fupport, and help by halves,
Like heifers, neither bulls nor calves;
Who, in Hypocrify's difguife,
Are truly as the ferpent wife,
But cannot all the precept love,
And be as harmless as the dove.
Who hold each charitable meeting,
To mean no more than good found
eating,

While each becomes a hearty fellow
According as he waxes mellow,
And kindly helps the main design,
By drinking its fuccefs in wine;
And when his feet and fenfes reel,
Totters with correspondent zeal;
Nay, would appear a patron wife,
But that his wifdom's in disguise,
And would harrangue, but that his
mouth,

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

Such,wholike true church-wardens eat,
Because the parish pays the treat,
And of their bellyful secure,
O'erfee, or over look the poor,
Who would no doubt be wond'rous juft,
And faithful Guardians of their trust,
But think the deed might run more clea

I view their tricks with indignation,
And loath each fulfom protestation,
As I would loath a whore's embrace,
Who fmiles, and smirks, and strokes my
face,

And all fo tender, fond and kind,
As free of body, as of mind,
Affects the softness of the Dove,
And p-xes me to fhew her love.

The Maiden wither'd, wrinkled pale,
Whofecharms tho' ftrong are rather stale,
Will use that weapon call'd a tongue,
To wound the beauteous and the young.
-What, Delia handfome!-- well! I--own
I'm either blind or stupid grown.
-The girl is well enough to pass,
A rofy, fimple, rustic lass;
-But there's no meaning in her face,
And then her air, fo void of grace!
And all the world, with half an eye,
May fee her fhape grows quite awry.
I fpeak not from an ill defign,
For fhe's a favourite of nine,

-Tho' I could with that fhe would wear
A more referv'd becoming air;
Not that I hear of indifcretions,
-Such folks, you know, make no con-
feffions,

Tho' the World fays, that parfon there,
That fmock-fac'dman,with darkish hair,
He who wrote verses on her bird,
The fimpleft things I ever heard,
Makes frequent vifits there of late,
And is become exceeding great;
'This I myself aver is true,
I faw him lead her to his pew.
Thus fcandal, like a falfe quotation,
Mifreprefents in defamation;
And where the haply cannot spy
A loop whereon to hang a lye,
Turns every action wrong fide out
To bring her paultry tale about.

Thus excellence of every kind,
Whether of body or of mind,
Is but a mark set up on high,
For knaves to guide their arrows by,
A mere Scotch Poft for public itch,
Wherehog,or man,may scrub his breech.
But thanks to nature, which ordains
A juft reward for all our pains,
And makes us ftem, with fecret pride,
Hoarfe Difappointment's rugged tide,

And like a lordly fhip, which braves
The roar of winds and rufh of waves,
Weather all storms, which jealous hate
Or frantic malice may create.
'Tis Confcience, a reward alone,
Confcience, who plac'd on virtue's throne,
Eyes raging men, or raging feas,
Undaunted, firm with heart at ease.
From her dark cave, tho' Envy rife
With hollow cheeks, and jaundic'd eyes,
Tho' Hatred league with Folly vain,
And Spleen and Rancour join the train;
Shall Virtue fhrink, abash'd, afraid,
And tremble at an idle shade ?
Fear works upon the fool or knave,
An honeft man is always brave.
While Oppofition's fruitless aim
Is as the bellows to the flame,
And, like a Pagan perfecution,
Enforces Faith and Refolution.

Tho' Prejudice in narrow minds,
The mental eye of Reafon blinds;
Tho' Wit, which not e'en friends will
spare,

Affect the fneering, laughing air,
Tho' Dullness, in her monkish gown,
Displays the Wisdom of a frown,
Yet Truth will force herself, in spite
Of all their efforts into light.

See Bigot Monks in Spain prevail,
See Galilæo dragg'd to gaol:
Hear the grave Doctors of the schools,
The Golgotha of learned Fools,
As damnable and impious brand
That art they cannot understand,
And out of zeal pervert the Bible,
As if it were a standing Libel,
On every good and useful plan
That rifes in the brain of man.

O Bigotry! whose frantic rage
Has blotted half the claffic page,
And in Religion's drunken fit,

Murder'd the Greek and Roman wit;
Who zealous for that Faith's encrease,
Whole ways are righteousness and peace,
With rods and whips, and fword,and axe,
With prifons, tortures, flames and racks;
With perfecution's fiery goad,
Enforcing fome new-fangl'd mode,
Wouldft pluck down reason from her
throne

To raise fome fantom of thy own;

Alast