tion. To know some of the solemn ties which this detestable miscreant so shamefully broke, let the reader merely turn to the service performed at the consecration of a bishop, where he swears "he is ready to do any thing, the Lord being his helper:" that the Lord had any helping hand, either in the Bishop's guilt or escape from punishment, it is blasphemy against his name to imagine; but yet this monster, who "believed himself to be called by the Spirit of God," acted at the instigation of the Devil. It is scarcely possible to contemplate with patience the magnitude of this man's crimes and the offices he held; his enormous worldly gains; his power; the splendour in which he moved; and the endless advantages appertaining to his rank and dignity; wealth and honours were bestowed upon the worthless being with wasteful profusion, and when he should have been suspended on a gibbet, he was roaming abroad heavy in purse and crime.

No lasting prosperity ever attends on the guilty or their associates. It is not to Bishops only we must look for an example of virtuous love and resigned content; they are, alas! too worldly, their hopes and wishes are

in Courts to shine,

With power too great to keep, or to resign.

In France this delinquent has found a cordial reception, he has not ever disguised his name; but has been publicly seen in the first French Society on the Boulevards, and at Very's the Restaurateurs, in the "Palais Royale," nor should we be astonished to find him introduced at the Thuilleries, where "Carbray" and others of his stamp are received, as if they were honest men.

It is rather singular that the seat of the Muses, the bower of Love, where the modern Anacreon, the sweetest Bard that ever sang in the train of Venus, selected his place of repose, should also be chosen by the unnatural monster of depravity for his abode; he, in fact, has taken up his residence in the cottage just quitted by Thomas Moore ! We dismiss the father-in-God Percy Jocelyn with bitter contempt, and at the day of judgement there must be more jostling and shoving than Lord Byron describes, if such a fellow slips into heaven and deprives the fire of hell of such a deserving faggot.

THE REVEREND SIR HENRY BATE DUDLEY, BART.

Dean of Ely.

"Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour."

1

Sir Henry Bate Dudley owes his preferments in the church to political conduct and private favor; he was for a long time hackney writer to various London Journals, and at length became a proprietor of the Morning Post, wherein his pen was employed to praise indiscriminately every act of government, right or wrong, and vilify and abuse all its opponents, who dared to oppose truth against the numerous falsehoods of the Morning Post. Like the profligate satirist, Churchill, he was called, in derision Parson Bate. For some years he made himself conspicuous as proprietor of the Morning Herald, a paper, it is supposed principally supported by the Treasury, as, under his direction, it sunk so low as often not to sell sufficient numbers to defray the expence of printing. Parson Bate was an avowed favourite of a certain Illustrious Personage; and at one period of his life might be seen arm in arm with him parading Pall Mall; and entering those places which bear an opposite name to the heaven it was Mr. Bate's duty to point out to his friends and all mankind.

Moreover, Parson Bate has had his portion of meat at the King's table; and to the King's kindness he is indebted for the well supplied table he now enjoys at the public expense, as Dean of Ely; he has sold his share in the Morning Herald, and his absence has made the paper respectable. Mr. Bate was once President of the Dublin Farming Society; and that too he helped to bring into contempt, by substituting politics and Orange principles for ploughs, premiums, and philanthropy.

At a time when the people were nearly in a state of starvation, he appeared in the market place at Ely, as a Magistrate, and by the strength of his arm, shewed himself better qualified for a pillar of the Fives court, than a pillar to support a mild and peaceable church. We never heard of any sermons preached or published by him, but his novels are notorious; they will be read, when Smollet

and Fielding are forgotten. Yes, then they will be read, and not till then.

To sum up this time-serving parson's character, in a few words, for we have already done him too much honour by our notice, we give an extract from the trial between the Countess of Strathmore and A. R. S. Bowes, Esquire, published in 1799, by J. Gill, at No. 16, Paternoster Row.

"Mr. Stoney had previously married a lady of fortune, near Newcastle, who soon after died, having spent the money he got by her, and becoming a bankrupt, he conspired with Parson Bate, then editor of the Morning Post, to impose upon Lady Strathmore; when, in order to execute their plan, a sham duel was fought under pretence of vindicating Lady Strathmore from libels inserted in the Morning Post by Parson Bate; in which duel nothing really suffered but a looking glass broke by the combatants. Mr. Stoney pretended to have been wounded, and Lady Strathmore, impressed with gratitude, gave her hand to him, when he took the name of Bowes." Vide trial page 4.

Whoever is acquainted with the horrid treatment Lady Strathmore experienced from Bowes, must detest and abhor the Man who put her in his power by such an infamous plot as the above extract relates. Let the faults of a woman be ever so great, they can be no extenuation of a man's cruelty. Yet this Parson Bate is not only a pillar of the church, but a corner stone of the building. The Cathedral of Ely is very old, if it should fall suddenly in tempestuous weather, no one will be sorry if parson Bate should at the time for once be under its roof, attending to his long-neglected duties.

THE PREACHER ORENSHAW.

"For this sort, are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women, laden with sins: led away with divers lusts: men of corrupt minds." 1st. Tim. 3 Chap.

Is one of those notorious Methodists who infest the North of England, and impose upon the poor, that put their trust in them; his name and character are well known, and despised; in the course of his labours at a love feast, near Hexham, in Northumberland, he se

The Reverend Robert Chandler, Bruiser.

47

duced a poor girl, named Ellen Pots, one of 13 children, who helped to support her father, (laid up by sickness) and her younger sisters; the consequence was, she became pregnant, was dismissed from her place of a farmer's servant, and died in the workhouse; at the time he did this deed, he paid his addresses to a young woman, who had the sum of 231. in a saving bank; this he persuaded her to entrust to him, for the purpose of providing a residence for her when she became his wife; he left the country, and she heard of her money no more; he also collected, under pretence of building a place of worship, from his infatuated disciples a sum of 2001; and one woman actually confessed that she robbed her husband of 271. at divers times, which she gave to him, besides tea, sugar, and other things from the shop, for which he paid by becoming the father of two children in the husband's place. These children are now beggars, and the mother wrung by remorse, plunged into the river Tyne, and perished, a miserable victim to the lust and avarice of a ranting, hypocritical Methodist. The fellow has changed his name, and is still pursuing his calling some where in the West of England, where his crimes are unknown, and we are promised by a friend a clue by which we shall be able to ferret him from his hole, and put an end to his infamous career.

OF THE REVEREND ROBERT CHANDLER,

Bruiser.

This gentleman held two livings in Derbyshire, where he is well known as a boxer and a fox-hunter; there was not a more furious rider ever took the field; he did not run faster over the church service than he did over five-barred gates and ploughed fields: he was always the last at church, and the first in a stable; he was sure to be in at the death of a fox, and always ready to bury his head in the evening bowl of punch; but at the death-bed or burying of one of his flock, he was seldom seen; he was thrown out and distanced in many of his religious duties; he was once suspended for adultery with his brother's wife, to whom he boasted he had given an heir, in the market at Derby; he fought two far

man of

mers about a tavern bill, and beat them both. At a ball in Litchfield, he challenged Lord Derby to turn out and have a round, which was declined, and he suffered a reprimand from his Bishop. He was very intimate with Tom Cox, who kept the bagnio under Covent-Garden Piazzas, next to the Piazza coffee-house, and he lodged with Tom whenever he came to London. All the girls considered him as a Father Confessor. It must, however, be acknowledged that he was oftener at Bow-street than became his sacred character. He once fought Waddy, a performer at Drury-lane theatre, for the possession of a wench, a regular combat in the back parlour of the Brown Bear, in Bow-street, and came off victorious, though both slept in the watch-house, and were fined by the Magistrates. About five years ago, he took it in his head to be jealous of his wife with a Mr. Hall, a great property in his parish, and he one day descended from his pulpit in the midst of the sermon, kicked, cuffed, and turned Mr. Hall out of the Church, for which he was afterwards suspended, and his livings placed under sequestration. He repeatedly challenged Mr. Hall, who declined meeting him; he followed Mr. Hall to London, where he was arrested for debt, and remained three years in the Bench, where his wife sat up a boarding school, and had the patronage of the first families belonging to the county; when released, he was restored to his livings and settled again with his family; but intoxication had become such a prevailing habit, that he was constantly making himself obnoxious to all his neighbours: he has been known to attend a cocking match at Derby on Saturday afternoon; a card club in the evening: and a supper at midnight which ended in a battle; on Sunday he mounted the pulpit with two black eyes and his head giddy with drink. Eventually he again relapsed into a jealousy of Mr. Hall, and made an attempt to horsewhip him, but got the worst of it; finally his livings were once more put under interdiction, and he himself thrown into Derby Gaol for a large debt, where he remains at this day, and will probably die there.

This jolly fellow continues in the practice of his convivialities, and is "bang up" Parson to the prison, many pray themselves into eminence; but Parson Chandler has boxed his way to hard earned celebrity, and whenever he goes, will leave behind him a name not easily

Benbow, Printer and Publisher, Castle street, Leicester-Fields.