to acknowledge a benefit, or too treacherous a memory to requite one.

When virtuous efforts meet with no encouragement, and the toils of a patriotic subject are repaid with indifference, loyal exertions must at length become dull duties and public spirit, except in a bad cause, will, if not entirely chased away, at least lie dormant, and cease to inspire individuals of talent and heroism to assist in upholding a nation's glory, or adding to its renown. These neglected beings may justly be compared to the waters of an exuberant spring; which, when carried by gentle currents to the great ocean, though they contribute to its magnitude, are lost in the wide expanse or to the smaller pillars of a fabric, which, when concealed from view by supporters of greater magnitude, are considered of no importance, and are thought of no more.

Scriblerus might have enjoyed all the comforts of life, aye, and its luxuries too, in peaceful retirement from the political world, had not his loyal and patriotic zeal predominated over all selfish considerations, and animated him to pursue, at the expence of his own comforts, that public spirit which has proved, in times of need, as useful to his country as honorable to his rank and profession.

Disappointed in his expectancies of promotion, Scriblerus sheathed his sword, and retired upon half pay; but in resigning to its scabbard this instrument of war, he took up a more formidable

weapon; and now fights the battles of his king and country with his pen, instead of his sabre. In these latter campaigns, it seems, his services are no better requited than they were in the former; though a staunch friend to the cause he advocates and supports in a masterly style. But he's no slave to party, and looks only to measures, not to men; by which means he has created a host of enemies, without securing one friend, since the death of the great patriotic statesman who was his first patron, and knew how to value his talents.

He'd do better, perhaps, to write his memoirs. They would be replete with romantic matter. A perpetual victim to the capricious whims of fortune, he is alternately deluded by her smiles, and depressed by her frowns. Now a prey to her malicious taunts;-then a sacrifice to her insatiable vengeance. In fine, it may in truth be said, he is a living proof that the lives of mortals sometimes abound in the marvellous, as much as do the feigned pages of romance. But such are the dispensations of Providence. And more happy are they whose reason and religion can reconcile them to their lot, than the more prosperous agents by whom the evils of life are distributed.

It is a lamentable fact, that a blasphemous parody on the Litany, a deistical pamphlet, or low publications recommending sedition, impiety and licentiousness, are so freely encouraged by the supporters of faction, that they come teeming from

the press with the most daring effrontery, in defiance of all constituted authority. Contributions are raised; applauses resound; and genius, upon such occasions, is rewarded with unbounded liberality. But an honest patriot, alas! is often left to do penance in a garret, and support a GOOD CONSTITUTION by taking a moderate dinner, after all his trouble, with His Grace of Gloucester, the good Duke Humphrey.

Thus exalted, he may feelingly reflect on the wisdom and policy of those economists who can silence a licentious satirist, by feeding him on the golden fruits of Hesperia; and retain in their service a devoted loyalist, without fee or reward. Such, however, is not the economy of more exalted personages. When they take a share in the government, they are generally easy of access, and individuals are admitted to their presence; statements are attended to, and merit rewarded.

It seems to have been presumed that, like the Roman of old, it would be as easy to turn the sun from its course, as Scriblerus from the paths of loyal and patriotic virtue. So far, then, has justice been done to his principles. He has experienced a long and severe trial, and has proved himself worthy of so honorable a decision.

"Our friends we are sure of," seems to be the compliment of the day, as recent events on the opposite shores have clearly demonstrated!

NUMBER X.

ON LOYALTY.

My Royal Master promised me
To raise me to a high degree;

But now he's grown a King, God wot,
I fear I shall be soon forgot.

You see when folks have got their ends
How quickly they neglect their friends;
Yet I may say, 'twixt me and you,
Pray God they now may find as true.

WHEN the great Emperor of the Spice Islands was driven from his throne and his dominions, by the revolution that obliged so many foreign Princes to take refuge on the British shores; the unruly winds and waves, proving as boisterous as some of His Highness's rebellious subjects, drove him, with fury, into one of our northern ports. On his disembarkation, however, he and his august family were most respectfully welcomed on shore by a distinguished Loyalist, who having an establishment in the neighbourhood, immediately conducted to his hospitable mansion the illustrious, though dethroned Monarch, with all his suite. This retreat, though not altogether calculated for the residence of Royalty, still, he thought, might

prove a comfortable asylum for the moment.Accordingly, every possible arrangement was made for the convenience of the illustrious visitors, as far as time and circumstances would admit. Beds were prepared; fires blazed in every room; the library was to be used as a breakfast parlour,-the parlour as a nursery; the dining-room dedicated to the use of the ladies and gentlemen of the bed-chamber; the drawing-room turned into a general repository. In fine, the whole house, in a twinkling, was turned topsyturvy; the master and mistress respectfully retiring to distant apartments for the time being, in compliment to the royal guests.

So well did the generous-hearted Host know how to render a service in the time of need, without enhancing the obligation, that at the end of a few days, when the Royal sojourners had recovered from the fatigue of their voyage, and intended to take their departure for the great metropolis, they actually called for their bill, supposing they had been all the while at an hotel.— It would have distressed their feelings, thought the noble-minded Host, had they been aware of putting him and his family to so much inconvenience; therefore, without offering, he led them to his dwelling, hoping they would find it an agreeable resting place till they felt inclined to proceed on their journey.

"And what did they do," asks the inquisitive reader, "when they were aware of the trouble