profane his country's glory. Such a two-legged brute may lack opportunity---he cannot lack depravity---to prove the paricidal Judas of your interests and your fame. Trust not the kiss of a scorner. Delilah toyed till Sampson slept. Dare your tail-pinned satellite brave the just indignation of the medalled veteran, by vollying forth an anathema on the glories of Waterloo from the Hustings of Covent-garden? Will he there dare accuse the scarred soldier of having been the hired tool of national, wholesale, remorseless murder? Will he there venture to outrage the people of England by plundering them of their laurels? Not he! that were more than yourself dare attempt. Yet this, and more than this, has he done with demon malignity, in writings which, from time to time, he has retailed forth to libel his native land.

Mark my words, Sir Francis-you will probably sit for Westminster in the coming Parliament; but if its existence be prolonged beyond three or four years, you sit not, I trust, in its successor. The presentiment that finds utterance by my pen is ineradicable-a future election for Westminster may defeat the avowed Champion of Uni

versal Suffrage; the promoter of universal outrage; and the would-be monopolist of the Representation of a mighty city-one vast incorporate portion of the Metropolis of Great Britain. Not vain-boaster enough to imitate the violent and vulgar Cobbett, by threatening you with a post-obit stake through your body, and cross-road burial; I with confidence promise to strip you of your borrowed plumes, and exhibit you the naked Daw that nature fashioned you. Tautology and mannerism are the characteristics of your pen and your speech. These, though glaring defects of your inventive powers, nevertheless serve your purpose. By the repetition of their drilling, you have besotted weak minds, till you kidnapped them to the service of wicked ones. You are a special example of the sad results of the collision of gigantic ambition with pigmy genius.

In common life specimens are too plentiful of rakes, who, unable to figure among their equals to the extent of their vain wishes, purchase the captaincy of a gang of coachmen and jockeys, training-grooms and black-legs. In public life the like rakes are to be met with, wallowing only in a more extended sphere of degradation.

You, Sir Francis, are the political rake, holding the dearly-purchased captaincy of the mob. You have degraded from your station, while your right-hand men have somewhat risen above theirs, Wooler, Cobbett, Carlile, and Hone, are, in political life, what "Black Will," "Fighting Bob," "Bugle Billy," and others of nick-name notoriety, are in the ring or on the road.

Allow me to pourtray your claims to consideration in the words of the celebrated Rector of Washington, the Rev. John Davidson, who declares, “Nothing can be more easy than to give to prevailing excitement an impulse in one direction, by goading its violence; but there is neither wisdom in doing what is so unsafe, nor magnanimity in doing what is so easy." Without wisdom or magnanimity, what is a public character? He is a curse to the land that harbours him.

Sir Francis, I must draw to a conclusion, and shall therefore repeat, that we will no longer suffer you to be the eye-sore of our civil quiet; that, if my voice can be of any avail, you shall not dictate to the Electors of West

minster whatever Candidate suits your pleasure, purpose, or family connexions; that a man who canvasses, with an assurance on the tip of his tongue, that, should he be elected, he shall then "speak more libels than he can write on the House of Commons," is little likely to be at his post, but far more certain of consuming the time of his constituents in jail'; that your final lapse into the doctrine of Uni versal Suffrage has pinnacled you in infamy; that the language you suffered John Cam Hobhouse to hold respecting the late horrid plot, which strange language has excited very strange surmises in many people's minds, will stamp you for ever the twin objects of execration and abhorrence-the avoided advocates of practical outrage. Think not to marshal the rehearsal of a civil tragedy, yet remain snug behind the scenes when it is publicly acted. Think not purgatory accessible to a Methuselah in crime. As you can never make reparation to your injured country for the wrongs you have done her, look to it, while you have yet time, how you may best expiate your atracious and accumulated misdoings.

JULIUS,

LETTER XXI.

TO THE RIGHT HON. LORD CASTLEREAGH.

MY LORD,

March 13, 1820.

THE subject on which I am going to address your Lordship has already been urged upon your attention; and your time is too valuable, in my estimation, to justify any intrusion of mine upon its limits, did I merely repeat what had before claimed your consideration.

My Lord, the Duc de Cazes ought never to be received at our Court, and in our Country, as the Representative of Louis XVIII. In duty to ourselves, and in decency to the rightful Sovereign of France, we should forbid his dismissed Minister our land, as long as he would come amongst us in an official capacity. Is not an Ambassador, my Lord, the Representative of his. Monarch? Shall we, then, allow evil or precipitate counsels to send us an exile from power as the Representative of Supreme