among you, for we are all exceedingly anxious for power, and to be greater and better off than we are."

And whereas among those enemies of the state was a man exceedingly ill favoured; his eyes were like unto those of a calf, his nose was crooked, and hideous to behold was his body; yet hideous as it was, his mind was much more so:

And behold, he courted the once favourite of the prince, yet courted her not for love, but only to answer his own views, and to become great ; for heretofore he had been a man despised and obscure in the land.

And behold, what I am now going to relate will scarcely be believed, yet it is exceeding true nevertheless.

This ill-favoured man, stranger as he was to every manly feeling, having found countenance in the sight of the woman, contrived in an unguarded moment to rob from her certain letters; for, being dishonourable at heart, he could at no time help showing his real

nature.

And whereas these letters were from the prince who had once loved the woman who had been bribed to become a party in the plot of the traitors:

Which when the ill-favoured man discovered, he was exceedingly rejoiced thereat, and hugged himself in his conceit, and carrying them into open court, he desired that the woman should be summoned, and the letters, containing some warm expressions of love, be publicly read, and that the prince might be disgraced.

And at this, a great confusion arose in the land, from the false construction put by the traitors upon those expressions of love; and the people gathered in crowds, and called for justice, and exclaimed, that the prince had dealt foully and treacherously by the country.

And the King was exceedingly disturbed; he smote

his

his breast, and tears fell from his eyes; but he soon recovered his firmness, and said, "Let this question be decided between my Ministers and my people."

And the clamour of the deluded people prevailed, and they said, "The letters! the letters! let us hear the letters; for the son of the King hath dealt foully by us."

And the clamour continuing to rage very high, the Ministers of the King gave way, the woman was summoned into court, and the letters were severally read:

And behold there was nothing in them but the breathings of love; of love misplaced indeed, but not guilty; inasmuch as it had not led to the commission of any evil against the King, or the interests of the people.

And when the Ministers heard these letters, they were ashamed within themselves, that they had not opposed the reading of them, for every manly soul shrunk indignant from the act.

Albeit, though the innocence of the prince was clearly proved, yet the madness of the people (deluded as they were by the traitors) was not appeased; but they ran wild, like goaded oxen, bellowing for the dismissal of the betrayed prince from his high office.

And it so happened, that sufficient firmness was not found to oppose the vulgar clamour that had been excited; and the prince hearing the noise of the deluded multitude and what they required, came forward, and said, "Behold, since it is your wish, though I am conscious of my rectitude, I resign my office."

And the people were a little appeased, but their fervour soon broke out again, and crowds gathered together, and conspirators met, and the voice of rebellion was loud in the land:

For are not the great majority of the multitude like a frantic herd, rushing along in droves, butting at all, and not knowing where to stop?

G

And

And were not these fearful times, and times that seem like fables to tell of, when the mad misled multitude had such sway, and villains and the dregs of earth trampled upon the dignity of princes and kings?

And the head of the King was bowed with sorrow, and would have sunk into the grave, had it not been that a few able and worthy men still existed in his empire.

And these men said unto the King, "Let not your sacred head be cast down, but look around; for all good men are the friends of the King, and the deluded multitude shall be brought to reason, and all shall yet be well."

And behold, in a little time dissension sprung up among the wicked ones, and they called one another knave and harlot; the knaves refused to pay the agreed price of iniquity, the secrets of the conspiracy became revealed, and then it was that good men began to have hopes.

And victory in battles blessed the arms of the King's soldiers that had been trained up by his son, and set in the path to glory by him.

And the King took comfort, and all good men loudly regretted the injustice that had been shown his

son.

And behold, by degrees the voice of reasonable men began to prevail, and the deluded multitude awaked, as from the stupor of drunkenness, and questioned one another, saying, "What have we done? have we not done wrong?'

And they remembered themselves, and cursed their fully, saying, "How can we help ourselves?-How shall we make amends

"We have run after evil doers and conspirators; we have been blinded and misled by the devil, and we and our children were on the point of destruction, and of becoming slaves to the enemies and traitors of the state.

"And

INTELLIGENCE FOR THE COUNTRY.

133

"And let us throw ourselves, with our faces in the dust, at the feet of the King; and let us acknowledge to those who have spoken to us virtue and reason, that they have saved us from perishing.

"And our eyes are opened; and as we have been under a fearful delusion, we will call for punishment upon those who cast the spell over our senses, who caused us to act so shamefully and so violently.'

And the people being all returned to reason, tranquillity and happiness were restored to the land, which continued to flow with milk and honey, and to put forth pleasant fruits and flowers, which the enemies of the country had essayed to destroy and blast.

And the King shone forth in all his glory, and like a spreading oak put forth his branches, and covered his people with happiness.

And all these things, of which we have been told, should be a warning to princes, how they trust their love in the bosoms of the impure.

INTELLIGENCE FOR THE COUNTRY: IN A LETTER FROM MR. GABRIEL GUBBINS, OF LONDON, TO THE MAYOR OF *****, IN THE COUNTRY.

DEAR COZ,

[From the Morning Post, July 14.]

YOUR kind note by the Staffordshire waggon,

Came slow as the roads which those vehicles lag on; But as it made known you were going to vote

Colonel Wardle your freedom, some plate, and what not,
It struck me I had not a moment to lose,

To inform you, by post, of the terrible news.
And strange is the tale which I have to relate
Of poor Colonel Wardle's unfortunate fate.
O dreadful the tidings reserv'd for my pen!
He is gone! and his Clarke is now saying " Amen.”
That excellent woman, who all understood
To be born for the public, its use, and its good,

On

On whom sat such polish'd and harden'd transgression,
Five hundred good members could make no impression,
While the Colonel and she, with their bark in full sail,
In a moment this strange Mistress Clarke has turn’d tail,
And declares, of the gulls she has caught in her net,
The Colonel the greatest of simpletons yet.

But while this good lady now triumphs at large,
The Colonel is left her large debts to discharge;
And what is most striking, this debt though he pays it,
Yet all must believe when a gentleman says it,
He declares on his word, which to prove he is ready,
That to him Mrs. Clarke was unknown-as a lady;
That in one point alone he her beauties could see,
As a witness unsullied, unbiass'd, and free;
And so eager was he this fair plea to maintain,
That he saw her but once-and refus'd it again.
When, woful the day, and most bitter the pill-
Comes a fellow-a joiner-who brings in a bill
For carpets, chairs, tables, and cabinet work,
For sofas en Grec, and for beds à la Turque→→
A scoundrel, a rascal-who does it in spite,
And wrongly brings Clarke to attest-he is Wright;
While this excellent witness, unsullied and free,
And the good Colonel Wardle, so little agree,
That he swears for her use he those articles chose,
While she in return was compell'd to depose-
To join in a dark and unnatural work,

And foully conspire 'gainst His Highness of York.
A story so horrid, no one had conceiv'd it,
But, alas! both the Judge and the Jury believ'd it.
And the Colonel-the Colonel, with grief do I say,
'Gainst his will has two thousand hard guineas to pay;.
But to heighten his loss, and to double the evil-
Thanks, freedoms, gold boxes, are gone to the d-1!
In short, since the Conjurer humbugg'd the town,
And the rages of gas and ballooning went down,
A deception so great, or so wicked joke,
Never vanish'd in air, or departed in smoke.
Even Bosville declares--who so kindly gives dinners
To all these distress'd and unfortunate sinners,
That had he to fathom his conduct been able,
He never had soil'd kuife and fork at his table;