long and fervently with his son, that resignation and patience might be granted to them, and heavenly support afforted. The hour for separation was drawing near, and Alice had thrown herself at her father's feet, and begged of him to bless once again, when the door of their cell was burst open-Alice started to her feet

"The dreadful time is not yet come!" she said.

It was Lord Fortescue; his face was pale, and he (seemed greatly agitated.

"Are you come to bid us a final farewell, my lord?" said the old man. "I bring you par

I bring you good tidings!" he said;

don !"

66

Nay, good my lord, you surely err!" said Lionel; "no pardon can be given by a relentless judge, like Bonner, to those of our faith."

I do thank God," said Lord Fortescue, "that his power is broken, and that I live to state the happy truth. Ye are no longer prisoners, but free men-behold the proof!" and he drew a sealed packet from his pocket, and proceeded briefly to inform them that Queen Mary had died the day before; and that aware of the unjust sentence passed upon them, he had lost no time in hastening to the Princess Elizabeth, now queen; and, laying the case before her, had from her procured an order for their free pardon, and release from prison.

On that very day that was to see them victims at the stake, did Ford, with Lionel and Alice, reach their home; and, joining in prayer, they returned thanks to that God whose protecting hand had preserved and delivered them from the machinations of their enemies.

At the expiration of two years, the uncle of Lord Fortescue died; and then did he again seek Alice Ford, and speak to her of that love which he had so long entertained for her. Had not her own heart pleaded in his favour, how could Alice refuse one who had saved the life of her father and brother' She consented; and Stephen Ford lived to see his daughter a loved and loving wife, and his son advance in honour and prosperity, ere the light of this world closed on him for ever; and he sank calm and peacefully into the grave.

:

THE SWINDLER'S PROGRESS.

BY RICHARD HOWITT,

Taffy was a Welshman,

Taffy was a thief.-Nursery Song.

I sing and aid me ye who have the power,
And ye who have not-please to stand aside;
I hope, at least, the "muses' nine" will shower
On me the spray of the ircastalian tide,
And cause the latent buds of verse to flower,
For I would sing, and must, whate'er betide;
My hero, chosen from the tribe of drones-
A Welshman and a rogue ;-his name John Jones.
A drone-because he neither toil'd nor spun,
But suck'd the honey from the well-stor❜d hive:
A loitering idle thing of breeze and sun,

Who never sought out honest means to thrive :
Who, if he lov'd that meed of praise "well done,"
Deserv'd it least of any wight alive :
And yet he might have had it had he sought,
For his was mind-at least so people thought.

He was a quaker in his youth, because

He in that sect was by his parent's bred; And had by rote their wise religious saws; Yet other themes at times possess'd his head : Whate'er they were, he warr'd not with the laws Of his own sect-perhaps a father's dreadNay, 'twas an uncle's, who, old, rich and kind, Had not an heir-'twas that which sway'd his mind. A man may wear a hat with spacious brim, Shady and sombre as a sycamore, (And such a hat, indeed, belong'd to him,) A man may wear his coat plain down before, Uncollar'd, unlappell'd,-amazing prim! His manners open as a gossip's door;

Seeming a quaker in his mien and dress,
Yet be a heartless villain, not the less!

Unto the blast of fame our hero lent

Daily some pious puff, and took great care That not one side-wind should be lost, but sent To that old quaker uncle with no heir: Was there a bible-meeting, there he went;

His speeches and their plaudits rent the air;
And these he took good care his uncle knew-
His fame, his wisdom, and long speeches too.

Awhile his vices slept; his virtuous deeds
Were given to every wind-to every tongue;
And as the arrow on its mission speeds,

So sped the object of his hope, ere long
True to its aim; and he, whom it misleads,
That kind old uncle, in his honour strong,
Could not suspect his nephew, whilst his choice
Was loudly sanction'd by the public voice.

But one thing now seem'd wanting to the bliss
Of the adopted gentleman—a bride :
The old man's wishes were as strong as his
To see the knot effectually tied ;

And searching eyes were sent abroad for this,

Nor was it long before the maid was spied, Not young, nor beautiful,-but then her dower Would make amends; it was a golden shower.

:

The match might be considered quite as made,
She never could refuse a youth like John!
Yet for awhile the wedding seem'd delayed
The settlement-the lady wanted none :
But still he should have wealth himself, 'twas said,
For her the match were else no prudent one.
The uncle thought so too, and deeds were penn'd,
Which settled wealth upon him to that end.

The deeds were made, and executed too;
The wedding did not take place as was thought;
And yet the young man made not much ado,
As if the disappointment keenly wrought

Upon his mind-'twas certainly broke through,

Or ne'er begun, as some have shrewdly taught:
The deeds were sign'd,-the uncle's cash made sure—
The youth was rich-and quickly both were poor.

"A change came o'er the spirit of their dream;"
Tom Paine and pleasure led the youth astray;
And on the quaker's hearth the fiddle's scream,
Drove their old guest of quiet far away.
The neighbours were amaz'd, the old man's team
For red-coat hunters chang'd their wonted dray;
All was confusion in that peaceful place,
And riot followed with as deep disgrace!

The uncle liv'd not long to see the change,
But broken-hearted in the grave was laid;
The people lov'd him, and they thought it strange,
That in his old age he should thus be paid
Ingratitude for goodness! Still the range
Of John's excesses darker deeds display'd;
The servant girl was with-I need not say,
Each reader can explain it his own way.

The child, of course, was the old man's-so John
Would have persuaded people if he could:
The girl was brib'd to say so-but anon

They found the scheme productive of no good:
The old man's character!-the youth's was gone!
He quickly found how things were understood.
The villain was well known, and vainly tried
To fix a stain on him he had belied!

Branded, despis'd, and shunn'd by all who knew him,
Save those of his own stamp-the vain and vile,
The fashionably-ruined one clung to him,

As to a hospital. In a brief while

He ran the thief's career, and to renew him

Paid i'th King's-bench his debts. In finest style Cheated the hangman; but he'll have him soonThis quaker, deist, fiddler, and buffoon!

THOUGHTS ON DRAM-DRINKING.

BY DR. FOTHERGILL, OF BATH.

Such is the rage for the detestable potion, "Genuine Hol lands, neat as imported,” that thousands of poor half-famished creatures daily swallow it with insatiable avidity. Though supported, together with their helpless families, at the expense of the public, they have been often known to pledge their allowance of bread, their clothes, nay, the very beds they lie on, to procure their accustomed dose of gin!

If we descend into their comfortless abodes, what an affecting scene do we behold! Disease, poverty, and wretchedness, pourtrayed in their strongest colours! This deplorable abuse of spiritual liquors, then, is a national evil of the first magnitude, and is certainly more malignant in its nature, and more fatal in its consequences, than is commonly imagined. It not only disqualifies men for activity, and habits of industry, but totally deprives them of that honest spirit of independence, which ought to be their pride as Englishmen. The time mispent in riot and debauch, occasions a vast loss of labour, ruins the peace of families, and strikes at the very root of population. Men addicted to this vice, have no idea of making provision for a family, or ambition of earning more at their respective trades, than barely sufficient to buy the daily portion of spirits; this being the sum total of their wishes, or, in their own language, "their meat, drink, and clothes," which is indeed, almost literally true, as they use very little

of either besides.

This pernicious habit is highly injurious to public as well as private property. Among mechanics and tradesmen, it produces debts, disgrace, and bankruptcy. Among farmers, bad tillage, scanty crops, and universal bad management, such as fields and gardens overrun with weeds, broken fences, and half clad dirty children, without manners or education. Among servants and domestics, idleness, and extravagance, loss of character, and beggary.

In the year 1751, when the abuse of spirits had risen to an alarming height, the number of dram-drinkers in the kingdom of Great Britain, according to a very able calculator, amounted,