there his character is not known, and he can tell such a plausible tale, a stranger would believe him to be virtue in the garb of holiness. He may rejoice in his escape, but for such villains there is a day of vengeance in store-" For while they be folden together as thorns, and while they be drunken as drunkards, they shall be devoured as stubble fully dry."-NAHUM, chap. 1, v. 10. We leave our readers to make their own comments, only remarking from this man's case, what every one may rely upon as a certainty, that imprudence is the forerunner of poverty-poverty introduces you to intemperance-and intemperance is the mother of guilt and infamy; so that every one should avoid the first, if they would avoid the horrors of the last.

REVEREND DR. BUCKNER,

Lord Bishop of Chichester: a fighting Parson.

"He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one."

This bishop is not only a pious, but a charitable and learned man, and we only instance him as one of the many ways there are of rising to eminence in the Established Church.

For some are born, my son, he cries,
With base impediments to rise,

And some to rise with none.-PRIOR.

Courage often succeeds where learning, talent, genius, and industry fall back, wither, droop, and die in obscurity. Doctor Buckner was long a humble labourer in the garden of the gospel. The garden brought forth fruit, but not for him; and, to use a sacred metaphor, for many years he' toiled day and night, and caught no fish,' At last he got appointed chaplain to a regiment, where he signalized himself, not as a field-preacher, but a warrior; he displayed such gallantry at the siege of Valenciennes, and other places, that his valour recommended him to a man who was no great judge of learning, the Duke of York,

who procured him a bishopric. It is a bad precedent; nor shall we ever think it justifiable till we are convinced that the way to the throne of mercy is through blood and slaughter.

A HUE AND CRY AFTER A PARSON.

“Newcastle, Northumberland, and Durham.—Sixty Guineas Reward.

"WHEREAS the Reverend ROBERT BATES, late of Whalton. in the county of Northumberland, hath accused himself and me, and also himself and other persons, with having been guilty of odious and indecent practices, and hath left his home before the report came to my knowledge, I hereby offer a reward of FIFTY GUINEAS to any person, or persons, who will discover the place of abode of, or produce the said Robert Bates, so that I may be enabled, by legal proceedings, to make him answer for so unfounded and malicious an accusation, and thereby vindicate my own character. In the meantime, until I have that opportunity, I most earnestly entreat that the public, and those who have been acquainted with my hitherto unimpeachable character, will be pleased to suspend their opinion upon this truly unfortunate subject.

Having also received anonymous letters of a very scandalous nature. I hereby offer a reward of TEN GUINEAS for the discovery of the writer of such letters.

"THOMAS LISLE.

"Pilgrim Street, Newcastle,

"18th June, 1810.

"P. S. The said Robert Bates left Whalton about the 27th of April, accompanied by a man-servant, out of livery, who has much the appearance of a countryman.

"Mr. Bates is about forty years of age, about five feet ten inches high, stout made, and of a florid complexion."

PARSON WILDBORE,

Vicar of Tilton; a King's Bench Blackguard; and a liberal Subscriber to the Vice Society.

That the land spue you not out also, when ye defile it.-LEV. c. 18, v.28.

This wretched mortal held the vicarage of Tilton, worth fourteen hundred pounds per annum; he was only extravagant in one point, that was in his love for liquids; he drank himself into the King's Bench, where he remained a length of time, and resolutely refused to pay his creditors one shilling. The loss of liquor only could affect him; the loss of liberty he deemed fortunate, as it gave him more leisure to get intoxicated; he began at day-light, and was always drunk before others had gone to breakfast. He usually got drunk three or four times a day, alternately sleeping and swilling for hours. This was his practice long before he came into the King's Bench Prison; he never moved without his pocket-pistol,' or brandy bottle, and it was his companion in the pulpit; he has been known to smell so strong of spirits, that when christening children, the ladies have been obliged to remove back from the font, overpowered by the nauseous smell, which actually made it appear as if the holy water vase had been a bowl of punch.

To him might justly be applied the whole of Alexander Stephens's song of Moses and the Vicar, commencing

There was once, it is said,
When, 'tis out of my head,

And where too, yet true is my tale,

That a tun-bellied vicar,

Bepimpled with liquor,

Could stick to no text like good ale.

One of his qualifications, and which he was fond of displaying, was singing obscene and blasphemous songs, parodies on the Scripture, &c to the most notorious tunes; he ridiculed all

religion, and spoke of it as a d--ned good trade; in fact, a wild boar from the forest, let loose upon society, could not be half such a bore as this dastardly fellow. He was shunned by all in the Bench: no gentleman or decent person would speak to him; and with racket-makers and call-boys he associated, often drinking on the seats in front of the Tap till he tumbled backwards to the ground. The wags used to black his face repeatedly, stuff his pocket with oyster shells, pin dishclouts to his tail, clap a tobacco-pipe behind each ear, and in this state lead him round the yard, the scorn and disgust of all except blackguards like himself, who rejoice at the depravation of human nature. He went four times up to the Insolvent Debtor's Court, and was as often remanded, for trying to impose upon the Court and cheat his creditors, by means of a false schedule. At last he was compelled to give up 8001. per annum to pay his debts, and was turned out of the Bench, execrated by all. He still lives, and if there is a beastly villain in the pale of the church, it is the man we have thus briefly and truly painted. We hope his parishioners may see this, and for shame take some steps to get rid of one who is a disgrace to the name of man, and not fit to breathe in a Christian world.

THE HYPOCRISY, FOLLIES, AND IMPOSITIONS OF THE
REV. WILLIAM HUNTINGTON, S. S.

Minister of the Gospel at Providence Chapel, Gray's-inn-lane.

[Continued from page 201.]

A young brother consulted him if he should marry a reclaimed harlot : "What she has been (said Huntington) matters not; if the dear redeemer has espoused her to himself, you may take her to wife, if there be mutual affection between you. Many a Magdalen has made an affectionate wife. But take this by the way, if you marry her, you must expect now and then a taunt from some of her old acquaintances, and she may sometimes when you are with her, meet with vulgar salu

tations from her old companions. I would have you consider beforehand whether these things would set easy upon your old man" Further on he says, "I doubt her heart is not truly humbled, if it was she would hate even the garments spotted by the flesh; why does she keep the sign out, if she has left off business? It ill becomes people who have left off trade, to mock their customers with an empty sign." It is astonishing the number who were credulous enough to apply to him in this way, and how easily he gulled those who listened to his stuff. He particularizes a Mr. and Mrs. Baker, of Oxford Street, who though sorely tried by various losses in business, bad debts and bankruptcies, supplied him with money whenever he required it. "While the chapel was building, when money was continually demanded, if there was a shilling in the house, I was sure to have it."

Friends flocked around him, who settled him in a comfortable country-house, stocked a farm and garden for him, presented him with a coach and a pair of horses, and rose a subscription to pay for the taxes, &c. on the whole. His lucky star preponderated, and having buried his wife, he preached himself into the good graces of Lady Saunderson, the widow of the late Lord Mayor, and married her! Shortly after, he received a shock-the chapel in Titchfield-street was burnt to the ground. However, he consoled himself by saying, the Temple of Solomon, and that built by Cyrus shared the same fate. He thought to leave the metropolis, and retire to Suffolk, but his crew would not hear of it. They got a spot of ground, and built another house. "God provided men to work, and money to pay them; materials to work with; and if he provided all these, Providence must be its name." The spot chosen was in Gray'sinn-lane; it was upon a much larger scale than the former. Taught by former experience, the Sinner Saved took care he should not be made responsible for any part, but when finished, he managed matters so well, that it was made over to him, as his own, before he preached in it; this being a specified condition. In his will he bequeathed it to his widow, as part of his estate, but she waved her claim. Towards his death he grew