tions, reason, no less pleased, discerns the mighty benefit which so complete a renovation must produce below. Let the most determined foe to corruption, the most thorough-paced redresser of abuses, try to conceive a more absolute purification of the house than this was calculated to produce;—why, pride's purge was nothing to it;— the whole borough-mongering system would have been got rid of, fairly exploded;-with it, the senseless distinctions of party must have disappeared; faction must have vanished; corruption have expired in air. From Hundred, Tything, and Wapentake, some new Alfred would have convened, in all its purity, the primitive Wittenagemot-fixed upon a basis of property or population, permanent as the poles

From this dream of universal restitution, reason and fancy with difficulty awake to view the real state of things. But, blessed be heaven, St. Stephen's walls are yet standing, all her seats firmly secured; nay, some have doubted, (since the Septennial Act,) whether gunpowder itself, or any thing short of a committee above stairs, would be able to shake any one member from his seat;-that great and final improvement to the Abbey, which is all that seems wanting—the removing Westminster-hall and its appendages, and letting in the view of the Thames-must not be expected in our days. Dismissing, therefore, all such speculations as mere tales of a tub, it is the duty of every honest Englishman to endeavour by means less wholesale than Guido's, to amelio

rate, without extinguishing, parliaments; to hold the lantern to the dark places of corruption; to apply the match to the rotten parts of the system only; and to wrap himself up, not in the muffling mantle of conspiracy, but in the warm, honest cloak of integrity and patriotic intention.

POOR RELATIONS.

A POOR Relation is--the most irrelevant thing in nature, a piece of impertinent correspondency, -an odious approximation,-a haunting conscience, a preposterous shadow, lengthening in the noon-tide of your prosperity,-an unwelcome remembrancer,—a perpetually recurring mortification, a drain on your purse, a more intolerable dun upon your pride,-a drawback upon success,- -a rebuke to your rising,-a stain in your blood,—a blot on your scutcheon,-a rent in your garment, a death's head at your banquet,-Agathocles' pot,--a Mordecai in your gate;

a Lazarus at your door,-a lion in your path, -a frog in your chamber,-a fly in your ointment, a mote in your eye,-a triumph to your enemy, an apology to your friends,-the one thing not needful, the hail in harvest,-the ounce of sour in a pound of sweet,-the bore par excellence.

He is known by his knock. Your heart telleth "That is Mr. you -" A rap, between familiarity and respect; that demands, and, at the same time seems to despair of, entertainment. He entereth smiling, and-embarrassed. He

holdeth out his hand to you to shake, anddraweth it back again. He casually looketh in about dinner time-when the table is full. He offereth to go away, seeing you have companybut is induced to stay. He filleth a chair, and your visitor's two children are accommodated at a side table. He never cometh upon open days, when your wife says with some complacency, "My dear, perhaps Mr. will drop in to-day." He remembereth birth-days-and professeth he is fortunate to have stumbled upon one. He declareth against fish, the turbot being small-yet suffereth himself to be importuned into a slice against his first resolution. He sticketh by the port-yet will be prevailed upon to empty the remainder glass of claret,-if a stranger press it upon him. He is a puzzle to the servants, who are fearful of being too obsequious, or not civil enough, to him. The guests think "they have seen him before." Every one speculateth upon his condition; and the most part take him to be-a tide-waiter. He calleth you by your Christian name, to imply that his other is the same with He is too familiar by half, yet you your own. wish he had less diffidence. With half the familiarity he might pass for a casual dependent; with more boldness, he would be in no danger of being taken for what he is. He is too humble for a friend, yet taketh on him more state than befits a client. He is a worse guest than a country tenant, inasmuch as he bringeth up no rent-yet 'tis odds, from his garb and demeanour, that your other guests take him for one. He is asked to make

one at the whist table; refuseth on the score of poverty, and-resents being left out. When the company break up, he proffereth to go for a coachand lets the servant go. He recollects your grandfather; and will thrust in some mean, and quite unimportant anecdote of-the family. He knew it when it was not quite so flourishing as "he is blest in seeing it now." He reviveth past situations, to institute what he calleth-favourable comparisons. With a reflecting sort of congratulation, he will inquire the price of your furniture, and insults you with a special commendation of your window curtains. He is of opinion that the urn is the more elegant shape, but, after all, there was something more comfortable about the old tea-kettle-which you must remember. He dare say you must find a great convenience in having a carriage of your own, and appealeth to your lady if it is not so. Inquireth if you have had your arms done on vellum yet; and did not know till lately, that such-and-such had been the crest of the family. His memory is unseasonable; his compliments perverse; his talk a trouble; his stay pertinacious; and when he goeth away, you dismiss his chair into a corner, as precipitately as possible, and feel fairly rid of two nuisances.

There is a worse evil under the sun, and that is a female poor relation. You may do something with the other; you may pass him off tolerably well; but your indigent she-relative is hopeless. "He is an old humourist," you may say, "and affects to go threadbare. His circumstances are better than folks would take them to be. You