In Jewin Street the ancient mansion stood,
But from the well a very little way;
There Simon went, and fed on Pancakes good,
Without one penny to his poke to pay.

Nor was he heartless at the sad mischance,
But boldly thus to his companions said;
1 pray ye Sirs, this once, my short advance,
For without money I have hither stray'd.
In turn for which (by Crowder's well I swear),
If ever I in future time should be;

Of this great Town the high and mighty Mayor,
The 'prentice lads shall long remember me.
I'll have them all within my stately court,

On wine and pancake they shall break their fast;
The City waits shall play to make them sport,
And I will cause the custom long to last,

As thus a laugh went thro' the merry throng,
Dame Hubbard§ laugh'd, for she was glad to hear
His shot was paid, nor did she think him wrong,
But told the tale with glee for many a year.

Time, who works wonders, as we all can tell,
Conducted Simon to his freedom fair;
Plac'd him a master, and he prosper'd well,
Became a Sheriff, and at length the Mayor!

Once as he sat, in stately robes array'd,
With Lady May'ress by his mansion fire;
He recollects the solemn oath he made,

To those whose bounty he could still admire.

Relates each circumstance in all respects,

Made many a comment on indulgent fate;
And call'd him base, who such an oath neglects,
And most unworthy of the chair of state.

The virtuous Dame commends his Lordship's love,
Advis'd him strait his promise to fulfill;

And to his Bounty add a little more,

As int'rest for each fellow lad's good will.

§ The Pancake Woman.

Simon Eyre, was Sheriff in 1432, and Lord Mayor of London in 1445; the same Year, he built Leaden Hall, (so called, from its being the first Building covered with that material) as a Store House for the Poor of the City. He established there also a Leather Market, for the use of the Cordwainers for ever, &c.

She urged th'example of Sir Stephen Brown,⭑+
Who just before him fill'd the City chair;
Who break no promise made to King or Clown,
And left behind a name without compare.
Inspir'd by this, and Shrove-tide near at hand,
The time he swore before his Conduit friends;
Resolv'd him strict to call th'apprentice band,

To keep his word, and make them full amends.
Thro' London City swift his will was flown,
To every Alderman Sir Simon sent;
Requesting each would thro' his Ward make known,
His Conduit promise, and his good intent.

When ev'ry master as he heard the tale,

Gave free consent, and that in friendly sort;

For 'prentice lads to seek the sweet regale,

And wish'd them store of pancakes and good sport.

To be continued.

THE NARRATOR, No. XIII.

The Subject concluded from Page 216.

"Blest Philanthropy!

It doubly blesses, he is blest who gives

And the sad heart that by the bounty lives."

Having in my last paper recommended our magistrates to temper their judgments with more mercy, and having

*+ Sir Stephen Brown, was Lord Mayor of London in 1438, who to use the words of the Historian, was "a character that should never be forgotten." At the time he was Chief Magistrate, happened a great and general Famine, caused chiefly by unseasonable weather, and much increased by unfeeling ROGUES IN GRAIN,' 60 that the poor were forced to fly to the Commons, and there dig up the Fern, to make them Bread of its roots, which so affected Sir Stephen, that he sent at his own expense, several quick sailing ships to Dantzick for Grain; and these making a speedy return, the Markets were suddenly sunk, and many hundreds saved from starving. The goodness of this man is felt even to the present moment, for he was the first who shewed the Londoners the way to relieve their City, by applying to Foreign Markets for supply of grain in times of scarcity.

demonstrated the possibility, that much good may result from such clemency, I shall now, according with my pro mise, present the reader with a domestic example, and strengthen the truth of my assertions, by shewing that mercy glorifies the actions of mankind, as the beams of the sun the general face of nature. This propensity to love has, among civilized nations, in all ages, been held up by good men for their fellows to fellow: Shakspeare, in his Jew of Venice, has drawn so brilliant a picture of it, as not to be excelled by the most enlightened of our times. But to avoid prolixity let me proceed.

As Mr. Shenstone was one day walking in his romantic retreat, in company with his Delia, (Miss Wilmot), just as they entered the bower, made sacred to the memory of his friend Thomson, and while Shenstone was reciting a new melody, a rustic rushed from a thicket, presented a pistol to his breast, and demanded his money the poet was at first surprized, and Delia fainted; but recovering himself, money (said he) is not worth struggling for, you cannot be poorer than I am, unhappy man, (continued Sherstone, throwing him his purse) take it, and fly as fast as possible; the robber did so, he threw his pistol in the water, and in a moment disappeared. The foot-boy that fol lowed Shenstone at some distance, was ordered to pursue with caution, and to discover if possible his retreat. In a few hours the lad returned, and informed his master, that he had followed the man to Hales-Owen, where he lived; that he went to the very door of his habitation, and looking through a flaw in the plaster, saw him throw the purse upon the floor, and heard him distinctly thus address his wifeThere Mary, take you the dear bought price of my honesty: then placing two of his children on his knees, said to them, I have ruined my soul to keep you from starving, and immediately burst into a flood of tears.

This tale of the robber's distress, affected the generous Shenstone in a manner, not easy to express. Early the next day,

"As bright Aurora wak'd the golden morn,
To kiss the dew-drops on the fragrant thorn;
Her train of breezes from their stations fly,
And chase the sev'ring clouds along the sky.
Sweet blew the bloom upon the broom-clad wild,
And earth and heav'n upon each other smil'd;

When Shenstone, rising from the couch of rest,
Felt the kind tenant waken in his breast,

Divine benevolence! by heav'n approv'd and,

bless'd;"

The man of mercy repaired to the place where the lad had directed, but first enquired of the villagers the general character of the offender, and found him to be a labourer, honest and industrious, but oppressed by want, and that he had a numerous family to support, with very little employment. Shenstone immediately turned toward the cottage of the peasant, who, as he beheld the injured man approach, ventured to come forward, and throwing himself at the feet of the offended, acknowledged his crime, and implored forgiveness here the divine spirit of mercy strongly operated, Shenstone forgave him, and took the rustic home to assist at his buildings, and other improvements, where he remained for many years, and his secret unknown to all but his benificent master. When Shenstone resigned his earthly paradise for a better, this labourer attended him with tears of gratitude to the grave.

With solemn pace, full oft' at eve he'd stray,
To kiss the turf that hid the sacred clay;
And whensoe'er perchance, the passer by
Would drop his master's name, he'd heave a sigh,
As pearls of kind remembrance fill'd his eye.
No change of time, no circumstance we find,
Could blot the patron from the rustic's mind;
'Till the great Author of benevolence,

Whose boundless will doth life and death dispense;
Call'd him, resign'd, from this perturb'd abode,
To join at once, his Shenstone and his God!

You will perceive by this narration, how soon a good action may arise from a liberal mind, and readily acknowledge with me, that there has been many an hoest man condemned to death without deserving so severe a punishment; and that the rustic I describe, had probably been of that number, had he attacked any other than the benevolent Shenstone.

Immortal benevolence! thou richest gem that adorns the human soul! without thee kings are poor indeed, and to possess thee, renders the humble man divinely rich. In

vain we crown the conqueror with laurels, and the slayer of thousands with immortality: the real hero is seldom found in the field of battle, he lives retired in the calmer walks of life, studying to do good, and all his resentments are sealed with Mercy!!! And although the offence given him may be of the highest magnitude, upon the first atonement, he is the first to cry

Kneel not to me:

The power that I have over you is to spare you,
The malice toward you to forgive you Live,
And deal with others better.

T. N.

ANIMAL SAGACITY OF A DOG.

The author of the Tableaux Topographiques de la Suisse, in his description of the Alps and Glaciers, relates the following circumstance. The Chevalier Gaspard de Brandenburgh, who was Ammau of the district of Qoug, and died in 1728, was buried, together with his servant, by an Avalanche, as they were crossing the mountain St. Gotlard, in the neighbourhood of Airola. His dog, who had not been buried with him, did not quit the spot, where he had lost his master. Happily this was not far from the Convent. The faithful animal scratched the snow, and howled for a long time with all his strength then ran to the Convent, returned, and then ran back again. Struck by his perseverance, the people of the house followed him next morning. He led them directly to the spot, where he had scratched the snow, and the Chevalier, and his domestic, after thirtysix hours passed beneath it, were drawn out safe and well. They had distinctly heard every bark of the dog, and all the discourse of their deliverers. Sensible to the attachment of this fine animal, to which he owed his life, the Ammau ordered, on his death, that he should be represented on his tomb with his dear dog. At Zoug, in the church of St. Oswald, they still shew the tomb and the effigy of this Magistrate. He is represented with his dog at his feet.