I trust that my introducing these events, as they occurred, will not be deemed superfluous by the reader. I do it, because it is my intention, as it has been all along, to give a brief history of the political occurrences of my own time, and within my own recollection. It is, I think, not unadvisable to put upon record some of the transactions of the English Ministers for the last twenty years, and dispassionately place them in their true light. At the period when these things were done the public mind was in a state of heat and effervescence —it was in such a fever of political delusion and delirium, that what was written and published at the time, particularly by the diurnal press of the day, instead of enlightening, was calculated only to mislead and deceive the people. Far from recording fairly what was passing in the world of politics, the principal object of the great mass of public writers, and more especially of the conductors of public newspapers, was to disguise and conceal the truth; they were all in the pay, or under the influence, of the two great political factions, the Ins and the Outs, the Tories and the Whigs, both interested in keeping the people in the dark. They were both struggling for nothing but place and power; their great end and aim were the same. The watch-word which, notwithstanding their ostensible difference in principles, was common to them, was this—"keep the people in ignorance, or neither of our parties will be able to plunder them." Therefore, though to the superficial observer, they appeared inveterately hostile to each other, yet I repeat, that they had the same object in view, and this was proved beyond all the possibility of doubt when the Whigs came into power. For twenty long years had Mr. Fox and his party been inveighing against the measures of Mr. Pitt; yet, the moment Mr. Fox and his friends came into place, they not only adopted all the measures of Mr. Pitt, but they even followed up the most obnoxious of those measures towards the people with an unfeeling and arbitrary severity. This being the case, I shall take leave, as I go along, to represent public events in their true colours, in such as they must strike every rational, dispassionate, and unprejudiced mind.

At this period invasion was still the general topic; it was in every person's mouth, and nothing else was either thought of or talked of. It was the subject of every one's almost hourly inquiry, both in London and the country, even in the most remote parts. Mr. Cobbett well described it at the time, "a state malady; appearing by fits and starts; sometimes assuming one character, and sometimes another. At last, however, it seems to have settled into a sort of hemorrhage, the patients in Downing-street expectorating pale or red, according to the state of their disease. For some weeks past it has been remarkably vivid; whether proceeding from the heat of the dog-days, or from the quarrellings and fightings, and riotings amongst their volunteers, it would be hard to say, but certain it is, that the symptoms have been of a very alarming complexion for nearly a month."

Notwithstanding all the terror which was felt, the fact is, that Buonaparte never seriously intended to invade England; but he knew that the gun-boats at Boulogne kept this country in a continual state of tremor, and put it to an enormous expense; it was evidently the policy of France to let us alone, provided that she could keep us in a state of agitation and ferment. It is very curious to observe how well this answered the purpose of Pitt as well as of Napoleon. Mr. Pitt had, in the first instance, to raise the spirit of the country, or rather to delude John Gull, created a false and unfounded alarm of invasion by Buonaparte, long before the latter ever dreamed of it, and the trick succeeded to a miracle. Pitt knew that he could not get such immense sums from the pockets of the people, unless he could work upon their fears; and this gave rise to the bugbear of invasion. John, as was expected, took fright, and the whole country was in consequence thrown into a violent ferment. Volunteer corps and voluntary subscriptions were every where the order of the day; John opened his purse-strings widely, and patiently suffered the rapacious and cunning Minister to dip his griping fist into the treasure as deeply as he thought proper. Napoleon, who had some of the most intelligent men in the world about him, soon discovered the state malady of poor John Gull, and he and his councillors lost not a moment to set about prescribing a dose, which they were sure would increase the nervous fever that had taken possession of the whole country. Their prescription was a very simple one, it merely consisted in ordering gun-boats at Boulogne. Napoleon played Pitt's own game off to such a tune as he did not expect. Pitt created the alarm to raise taxes; Napoleon fell into the scheme, in order to continue the call for taxes upon the pockets of Gull, and to exhaust the resources, and waste the wealth of the country, which at that time appeared to some people to be absolutely inexhaustible. This Boulogne flotilla was therefore a mere playing upon the fears of the people of England, but it was a most ruinous war upon the national finances.

This was the time when the people of England were made drunk, and indeed mad, by the deleterious potions that were administered by Pitt and his colleagues, in the shape of Acts of Parliament, for raising volunteer corps, catamaran schemes, car projects for conveying troops, &c. &c. with every other species of folly and profligacy. The taxes raised this year were little short of SIXTY MILLIONS.—In February the quartern loaf was eight-pence; by December it had risen to one shilling and four pence halfpenny. Those were rare times for the farmers and the yeomanry; and they did not forget to make their poor neighbours feel their power. This rise in the price of corn was caused by the CORN BILL, which was carried through the House of Commons for the purpose; but its operation was arrested in the House of Lords, till the 15th of November. Mr. Cobbett was still one of the great advocates for war, and he wrote some very able but very mischievous papers, to prove that war did not operate to raise the price of bread, and that for the last fifty years bread had been cheaper in war than in peace. This he did for the purpose of discountenancing and reprobating the cry that had been raised of "Peace and a large loaf." Mr. Cobbett's Register at this time became a very popular work, and the great talent displayed by the author caused it to be universally read. I, for one, became one of his constant readers and zealous admirers, although I did not agree with many of his doctrines. Notwithstanding the great talent he displayed, and the knowledge in matters of political economy which it was very evident that he possessed, I could never be convinced that war in any way either promoted the freedom or happiness of the people, much less that it ever produced cheap bread, or contributed to the comfort of the poor. I must, however, do Mr. Cobbett the justice to say, that he condemned the Corn Bill, and, in glowing language, boldly and ably pointed out the folly as well as the injustice of Corn Bills, to raise the price of grain. I did not know Mr. Cobbett at that time, but I own that I longed to become acquainted with so celebrated a public writer, who had afforded me so much pleasure in the perusal of his literary works. It will be but doing common justice to him, as well as to myself, to observe here, that I have never failed to read it from that day up to the present hour; and that I have received more pleasure in reading his works, and have derived more information from him, ten times ten-fold, in subjects of political economy, than I ever derived from all the other authors I ever read besides. Mr. Cobbett, at that time, censured in strong terms the volunteer system, and ridiculed their pranks and squabbles with the most cutting irony; for he was at that time the mighty champion of a standing army. Mr. Cobbett had been a soldier, and a zealous, active, and intelligent soldier; therefore, as such, it was not only excusable in him to be an advocate for that system, with which he was so well acquainted, and whose power he so well knew, but his predilection was quite natural. He, however, then little thought what a monster he was nourishing, in the shape of a standing army. Sir Robert Wilson also was bred a soldier; and he also published a pamphlet, addressed to Mr. Pitt, under the title of "An Inquiry into the present State of the Military Force of the British Empire, with a view to its re-organization." This pamphlet was in favour of a regular army, in preference to the volunteers. In fact, the whole nation was mad; and as drunk with fear now, as they had been in the commencement of the war with France with folly and boasting. We long since began to feel the baneful effects of that war, and we are now tasting its bitter fruits, with all their appalling evils. We have now a standing army in good earnest; and now that army is kept up, in the sixth year of peace, to compel John Gull to pull out of his pocket the last shilling, to pay the interest of that debt, which, in his drunken, insane folly, he suffered his rulers, to borrow, in order, as they first told him, to humble the power of the French Jacobins; a debt which was greatly enhanced to humble Napoleon; and, lastly, it was brought to its climax to restore the Bourbons. The people of England were drunk, wickedly drunk, when they went to war to destroy the principles of liberty in France; for, be it remembered, to their shame, that the people sanctioned this war—they were duped and deceived, it is true, but it was certainly a popular war with the great mass of the people of England.

Being now arrived at the summit of power, Napoleon became more than usually anxious to secure that power. It was his interest, as it had long been his object, to be at peace with England; and in order to secure this desirable object, he wrote a letter to the king of England, with his own hand, offering the fairest terms, and expressing a sincere desire to put an end to the spilling of human blood, and to see the two nations at peace with each other. Common courtesy, and the rules of good breeding, entitled him to an answer. But, instead of this, the Secretary of State merely informed the French Minister, that the King, by treaty, was obliged to act in concert with his allies. As soon as this slight was offered to the Emperor of France, preparations were immediately renewed for invading England. Mr. Pitt finds that his difficulties have increased since his former administration; he therefore makes an effort to strengthen the Government by an union with the Addingtons, and the late Prime Minister is raised to the peerage, by the title of Viscount Sidmouth.

On the 24th of January, 1805, war was declared by England against Spain. In fact, it was absolutely necessary to declare war against Spain, or restore the three frigates and the three million dollars of which we had robbed them; and not choosing to be honest, and do an act of justice to that nation, war was inevitable. I have this moment found a copy of the letter addressed by Napoleon to the King of England, which I will insert, that the rising generation may be able to judge for themselves of the characters and dispositions of the two monarchs, George the Third and Napoleon the First. The letter is as follows:—

"SIR AND BROTHER, January 2, 1805.

"Called to the throne of France by Providence, and by the suffrages of the senate, the people, and the army, my first sentiment is a wish for peace. France and England abuse their prosperity. They may contend for ages; but do their Governments well fulfil the most sacred of their duties, and will not so much blood, shed uselessly, and without a view to any end, condemn them in their own consciences? I consider it as no disgrace to make the first step. I have, I hope, sufficiently proved to the world that I fear none of the chances of war; it besides presents nothing that I need to fear; peace is the wish of my heart, but war has never been inconsistent with my glory. I conjure your Majesty not to deny yourself the happiness of giving peace to the world, nor to leave that sweet satisfaction to your children: for certainly there never was a more favourable opportunity, nor a moment more favourable to silence all passions, and listen only to the sentiments of humanity and reason. This moment once lost what end can be assigned to a war which all my efforts will not be able to terminate. Your Majesty has gained more within ten years, both in territory and riches, than the whole extent of Europe. Your nation is at the highest point of prosperity; what can it hope from war? To form a coalition with some powers of the Continent? The Continent will remain tranquil; a coalition can only increase the preponderance and continental greatness of France. To renew intestine troubles? The times are no longer the same. To destroy our finances? Finances founded on a flourishing agriculture can never be destroyed. To take from France her colonies? The colonies are to France only a secondary object; and does not your Majesty already possess more than you know how to preserve? If your Majesty would but reflect, you must perceive that the war is without an object, without any presumable result to yourself. Alas! what a melancholy prospect to cause two nations to fight merely for the sake of fighting. The world is sufficiently large for our two nations to live in it, and reason is sufficiently powerful to discover means of reconciling every thing, when the wish for reconciliation exists on both sides. I have, however, fulfilled a sacred duty, and one which is precious to my heart. I trust your Majesty will believe in the sincerity of my sentiments, and my wish to give you every proof of it, &c.

"NAPOLEON."

Instead of his Majesty, George the Third, writing an answer to this pacific letter from the Emperor Napoleon, a letter was written by Lord Mulgrave, addressed to M. Talleyrand, the French Minister, couched in equivocal terms, and which concluded by saying that his Britannic Majesty had no power to act for himself, and that he could do nothing without consulting with his allies upon the Continent. After this conciliatory epistle from the Emperor of France, and the answer, or rather the failure of an answer, from his Britannic Majesty, no one that reads this letter of the Emperor Napoleon and the answer of Lord Mulgrave will ever believe or say that Napoleon was the cause of the continuance of the war. What oceans of blood might have been spared if the King of England, if George the Third, had accepted this liberal and candid offer of peace and reconciliation from Napoleon!

The reign of George the Third may, with the greatest propriety, be called the bloodiest reign in the annals of history. If his Majesty felt that he, having the power, neglected such an opportunity, that he threw away the delightful pleasure of sparing the lives of his fellow creatures, of stopping the effusion of human blood, if he felt this, I for one do not wonder at his Majesty's illness—the bare reflection was more than enough to drive any man out of his senses, to have distracted the strongest brain. Oh God! what a reflection! The pages of British history from that hour, that fatal hour, when the answer was written by Lord Mulgrave, dictated by the hand of a cold-blooded policy, from that hour, I say, the pages of history have been tarnished; blood having been shed, which, by a more humane policy, might have been prevented.

Let us now return to our domestic politics. At length a Committee of the House of Commons declared that George Bolton Mainwaring was not duly elected, and ought not to have been returned for the county of Middlesex; but that Sir Francis Burdett was duly elected, and ought to have been returned. This was a sad blow for the saints, who were the principal supporters of Mr. Mainwaring. Sir Francis Burdett now took his seat, out of which he had been unjustly kept at the beginning of the Sessions by the temporising and partial conduct of the sheriffs of the county of Middlesex.

At this time, in March, 1805, the tenth report of the commissioners of naval inquiry was laid before the House of Commons, which report implicated Lord Melville and Mr. Trotter in the crime of defrauding the public of the monies entrusted to them, intended to discharge those accounts as connected with the office of Treasurer of the Navy, an office held by my Lord Melville. Trotter, Lord Melville's deputy, who had a salary of no more than 800l. a year, was found to have increased his funded property since 1791, a period of fourteen years, to eleven thousand three hundred and eight pounds one shilling PER ANNUM!!—Lord Melville, on his examination before the commissioners, being asked, upon his oath, "whether Mr. Trotter had ever applied any of the naval money for his (Lord Melville's) benefit or advantage?"—he refused to answer, for fear of criminating himself. What came out upon this inquiry before the Commissioners of Naval Inquiry, now absorbed the whole of the public attention, and caused an universal sensation throughout the country. This said Lord Viscount Melville was that Henry Dundas, Esq. who was formerly a Lawyer in Edinburgh, became Lord Advocate of Scotland during the American war, and a strong supporter of Lord North's administration; was then made Treasurer of the Navy at the same epoch that Mr. Pitt first became Chancellor of the Exchequer, in Lord Shelburn's administration; again became Treasurer of the Navy in the administration of Mr. Pitt, in 1784; then became President of the Board of Controul for India affairs, and afterwards Secretary of State for the War Department, retaining all the three offices in his own person till the year 1800, when he gave up the Treasurership of the Navy, still keeping fast hold of the other two offices till he resigned, together with Mr. Pitt and the rest of that Ministry, in the month of March, 1801. This same Henry Dundas, who was again brought into place by Mr. Pitt, and put in greater power than ever, was, on the 8th of April, 1805, degraded by a censure of the House of Commons, inflicted by a solemn vote, on the motion of Mr. Whitbread, who brought the affair before them with great manliness, ability, and perseverance. The eleventh resolution moved by Mr. Whitbread, and carried by a majority of the House against all the influence and exertions of Mr. Pitt, was as follows—"That the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Melville, having been privy to, and connived at, the withdrawing from the Bank of England, for purposes of private interest or emolument, sums issued to him as Treasurer of the Navy, and placed to his account in the Bank, according to the provisions of the 25th of Geo. III. chap. 31, has been guilty of a gross violation of the law, and a high breach of duty."

Public meetings were on this occasion held all over the kingdom, calling for a rigid inquiry into the conduct of Lord Melville, and petitions were presented by the electors of Westminster, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen and Citizens of London, the electors of Southwark, from Salisbury, from the county of Surrey, city of York, the counties of Norfolk, Hants, Hereford, Bedford, Berks, Northumberland, Cornwall, Essex, &c. &c. against Lord Melville.

A county meeting was called for Wilts, at Devizes. I had myself written to the old Marquis of Lansdown, proposing to sign a requisition to the Sheriff, which his Lordship immediately complied with; but our High Sheriff, Sir Richard Colt Hoare, took that opportunity to take a trip into Wales, or some part of the West, without leaving any orders at home where his public or private letters were to be forwarded to him. In consequence of this circumstance, our county meeting was delayed three weeks or a month, and before it could be held, articles of impeachment were exhibited and agreed to by the House of Commons against Lord Melville. The meeting, however, having been at length advertised by the High Sheriff, to be held at the Town Hall at Devizes, a great number of freeholders assembled, and amongst that number were myself, Mr. Hussey and Lord Folkstone, the two members for Salisbury. In consequence of the decision of the House of Commons, to impeach Lord Melville, Mr. Hussey and Lord Folkstone recommended, that there should not be any petition sent up from the county of Wilts, because it would be prejudging the question before the House. Finding that no petition was to be submitted to the meeting, I sat down and drew up some resolutions, expressive of the indignation of the freeholders at the conduct of Lord Melville, and their approval of that of Mr. Whitbread. Amongst the number was a censure upon the High Sheriff, for his delay in calling the meeting, and his gross negligence in being absent from the county at such an important period. It was here that, for the first time, I addressed my brother freeholders at a county meeting. Mr. Collins, of Salisbury, seconded my resolutions, and they were carried by acclamation; but in consequence of the earnest entreaties of the venerable Mr. Hussey, who was the father of the House of Commons at that time, backed by those of his colleague, I, being young in politics, was prevailed upon to withdraw my vote of censure upon the conduct of the Sheriff, after having heard from him an explanation and an apology.

This was my first public entry into political life. I had always borne the character of an independent country gentleman; but I had never taken any decisive part publicly in politics till this occasion. I was very successful in my maiden speech, as it might so be called, for which I was highly complimented by Mr. Hussey and by Lord Folkestone. But, as I said before, by compliments and by flattery they wheedled me out of the main jet of my resolutions. The fact was, that my resolutions were too sweeping, as they cut at the Whigs as well as the Ministers. They contained a general condemnation of all peculations and peculators; and Mr. Hussey, as well as Lord Folkestone, who was a very young man and a very poor orator at that time, were neither more nor less than Whigs: it was therefore necessary, by a ruse de guerre, to get rid of my resolutions, which they found I was sure to carry, by a large majority of the meeting. The public spirit evinced by the Wiltshire freeholders was, however, an earnest of their future patriotic disposition to take the liberal side of the question in public matters, whenever they might again be brought upon the carpet.

On the 25th of May, three men, who had falsely sworn themselves freeholders of Middlesex, to vote for the popular candidate, were, upon conviction, sentenced to seven years' transportation each. On the 26th of May the Emperor Napoleon was crowned King of Italy at Milan.

On the 13th June, 1805, a resolution was passed by the House of Commons, and that the fullest House that ever was known, for ordering the Attorney-General to commence, in the Court of King's Bench, a criminal prosecution against Lord Melville, for having used the public money for private purposes. This resolution of the Honourable House gave universal satisfaction to the people throughout the country. The examination of Mr. Pitt before the committee excited general interest, and nothing else was talked of or thought of in the political world. His shuffling, equivocating testimony, so much resembles what has been going on, during the last ten weeks, within these walls, that I will here insert some of his answers before the committee. It will be recollected that Mr. Pitt was a man who, whenever it suited his purpose, did, with a most surprising power of memory, revert to all the arguments and opinions of his adversaries, for a space of time, comprising his whole political life; not with doubt, hesitation, or embarrassment, but with the most direct, unqualified, and positive assertion. The following were his answers before the committee.

Answers. Times.

He thinks, &c............... 6

He rather thinks........... 2

He thinks to that effect... 1

He thinks he understood. 1

He conceives ............... 7

He believes .................. 8

He rather believes ......... 1

He believes he heard ...... 1

He understood ............ 3

He understood it generally ..................... 2

He was satisfied ......... 1

He was not able to ascertain ........................ 1

He can only state the substance ...................... 1

He did not recollect (Non mi ricordo!) ............. 9

He really did not recollect 1

Answers. Times.

He had no recollection... . 1

Did not know from his own knowledge ............... 3

Did not know that it occurred to him ........... 1

Was not in his contemplation ........................ 1

Did not occur to his mind 1

No _impression was _left on his mind_ ................. 1

He could not say ......... 2

He could not undertake to say....................... 2

He could not speak with certainty ................. 1

He could not speak positively ...................... 1

He could not state the substance very generally.. 1

ANSWERS. TIMES.

He did not at present recollect .................. 2 He could not recollect with precision ............ 2 He could not recollect at this distance of time .. 1 He could not recollect with certainty ............ 1 His recollection did not enable him .............. 1 To the best of his recollection .................. 4 As well as he could recollect .................... 2 Could not pretend to recollect ................... 1 Not able to recollect at this distance of time ... 1 He had a general recollection .................... 4 He could not state with accuracy ................. 3 He could not state precisely ..................... 3 He could assign no specific reason ............... 1 He did not know .................................. 2 Not that he knew of .............................. 2 He had no means of forming a judgment ............ 1 He did not think ................................. 1 He had no knowledge .............................. 2 He could not judge ............................... 1 Probably ......................................... 1 He was led to suppose ............................ 1 He was led to believe ............................ 1 He was persuaded ................................. 1 He learnt ........................................ 1 He heard surmises to that effect ................. 1

ABSTRACT.

He thinks, rather thinks, or thinks he understood ............... 10 He conceives .................................................... 7 He believes, rather believes, &c. ............................... 10 He understood, was satisfied, &c. ............................... 6 Not able to ascertain, could only state the substance ........... 2 Did not recollect, to the best of his recollection, &c. ......... 31 He could not say, speak with certainty, &c. ..................... 6 Did not occur to his mind, &c. .................................. 7 He could not state with accuracy, precision, &c. ................ 7 He had no knowledge, not led to believe, to suppose, &c. ........ 16 I am _perfectly convinced_ ...................................... 1 No, I believe it impossible ..................................... 1 _ 104

Now it is almost impossible to imagine that a witness could have made such answers to 104 questions, unless he deliberately and pertinaciously meant to conceal and withhold the truth by equivocating.

Mr. Pitt's memory, be it observed, was equally bad and treacherous upon the trial of poor old Hardy, the shoemaker, and Mr. Horne Tooke. He then could not recollect any thing that was likely to tell in favour of the prisoners: when their exculpation was likely to be the result of a plain honest answer, "Non mi ricordo" was his reply. That Mr. Pitt had connived at the peculations of Lord Melville, was clearly proved; and also that he had lent Boyd and Benfield, two ministerial Members of the Honourable House of Commons, 40,000l. of the public money, without interest. These transactions being made known by means of Mr. Whitbread's exertions in Parliament, the public mind was in a violent ferment. Petitions were poured in from all parts of the country against the conduct of Lord Melville, and the people were delighted at the resolution passed by the House, ordering the Attorney-General to commence criminal proceedings against him in the Court of King's Bench. But they were very much mortified at the notice of the motion given by Mr. Leicester, on the 25th, for the rescinding the resolution passed on the 13th of June, and thus to do away with the vote of the House on that night, in order to substitute an impeachment of Lord Melville, instead of the criminal prosecution.

On the twenty-sixth of June, an impeachment was ordered by a vote of the House, instead of a criminal prosecution. This was considered, by every honest man in the country, to be a measure adopted for the purpose of screening the newly made noble delinquent. Mr. Cobbett took up the discussion of these proceedings, with his accustomed zeal and ability; and his Weekly Political Register was universally read, not only in the metropolis, but all over the kingdom. His clear, perspicuous, and forcible reasoning upon this transaction, convinced every one who read the Register; he proved to demonstration that Mr. Pitt had been privy to and connived at his friend Lord Melville's delinquency, and it was made evident, to the meanest understanding, that the public money had been constantly used for private purposes, and to aggrandize the Minister's tools and dependants.

This was a mortal blow to Mr. Pitt, and it is with great truth said that this was the primary cause of his death. His friends had always cried up his integrity and disinterestedness, and his total disregard of wealth. This was very true as to himself; but he aggrandized all his friends and supporters; every tool of his ambition grew rich and fattened upon the public money; and having carried on this trade for so many years, and to be caught out in this barefaced fraud at last, I believe went far towards breaking his heart; I am sure he never well recovered it. To be detected in lending Boyd and Benfield, two Members of Parliament, 40,000l. of the public money, without interest, was bad enough: but for that he had impudence enough to offer something like an excuse; and lame as that excuse was, yet he obtained a bill of indemnity for his violation of his duty. But to have connived at Sawney's tricks, and to be detected in it, was too much for his proud spirit to bear! He was, however, determined at all hazards to screen and protect him from punishment; and hence the House was surprised into a vote, to rescind the solemn decision of the House for Lord Melville to be criminally prosecuted by the Attorney-General, little Master Perceval. Oh! what shuffling and cutting there was amongst the Minister's tools in the Honourable House; but Mr. Whitbread was made of too stubborn stuff to be driven from his purpose!

In the meanwhile, the whole country was alive to the transaction, and watched with a scrutinizing eye every step that was taken by the wily Minister, who was beset in every quarter. Mr. Cobbett contributed more than any other individual to bring this nefarious affair fully before the public eye. As I had taken a conspicuous part at the Wiltshire County Meeting, I called on Mr. Cobbett the first time that I went to London after it had occurred, as I was desirous to obtain a personal interview with a man who had afforded me so much pleasure by his writings, and who had given me weekly so much useful information as to politics and political economy. He lived in Duke-Street, Westminster, where, on my arrival, I sent in my name. I was shown into a room unfurnished, and, as far as I recollect, without a chair in it. After waiting sometime, the great political writer appeared; a tall robust man, with a florid face, his hair cut quite close to his head, and himself dressed in a blue coat and scarlet cloth waistcoat; and as it was then very hot weather, in the middle of the summer, his apparel had to me a very singular appearance. I introduced myself as a gentleman from Wiltshire, who had taken a lead at the county meeting, the particulars of which I had forwarded to him. He addressed me very briefly, and very bluntly, saying that "we must persevere, and we should bring all the scoundrels to justice." He never asked me to sit down; but that might have arisen from there being no other seat in the room except the floor.

I departed not at all pleased with the interview. I had made up my mind for a very different sort of man; and, to tell the truth, I was very much disappointed by his appearance and manners, and mortified at the cool reception which he gave me. As I walked up Parliament-Street, I mused upon the sort of being I had just left, and I own that my calculations did not in the slightest degree lead me to suppose that we should ever be upon such friendly terms, and indeed upon such an intimate footing, as we actually were for a number of years afterwards. It appeared to me, that at our first meeting we were mutually disgusted with each other; and I left his house with a determination in my own mind never to seek a second interview with him. I thought that of all the men I ever saw, he was the least likely for me to become enamoured of his society. The result was, nevertheless, quite the reverse; we lived and acted together for many years with the most perfect cordiality; and I believe that two men never lived that more sincerely, honestly, and zealously, advocated public liberty than we did, hand in hand, for eight or ten years. Although, perhaps, it would be impossible to pick out two men more different, in many respects, than we are to each other; yet, in pursuing public duty for so many years together, there never were two men who went on so well together, and with such trifling difference of opinion, as occurred between Mr. Cobbett and myself. It was, however, some years after this, before we became intimate. I constantly read his Political Register with unabated admiration and delight, for even at this time he far surpassed every other political writer, in my opinion.

At this period, 1805, many volunteers having refused to pay their fines for not attending their drills, under an idea that it was not compulsory, the magistrates decided that they were legally liable, and compelled them to pay their arrears.

On the 31st of August, the old humbug of invasion having been again played off by Buonaparte, Sir Sidney Smith attacked the flotilla off Boulogne, by means of catamarans, but with very trifling success, he having done but very little mischief to the enemy.

On the 8th of September, hostilities commenced once more between Austria and France; and, on the 2d of October, the success of the French arms began, by the defeat of the Austrians at Guntzburgh, and was followed up by the action of Wirtingen on the 6th. On the 7th, the French army defeated the Austrians on the Danube; and on the 14th, Memmingen surrendered to the French. On the 16th, six thousand Austrians surrendered to Soult; and, on the 17th, Ulm was surrendered to the French by the Austrian General Mack. On the 19th, the Austrian army was again defeated near Ulm by the French; on the same day the Battle of Elchingen was fought, where the Austrians were again routed; and on the 20th, the French forces in Italy passed the Adige. Werneck surrendered with 15,000 men to Murat.

As a counterbalance to the wonderful uninterrupted success of the French arms on the continent, Lord Nelson defeated the French and Spanish fleets, off Trafalgar, on the 21st of October. In this matchless naval engagement, the English sailors under Nelson took and destroyed twenty-four ships of the enemy; in which action the brave Admiral fell. This splendid victory of Lord Nelson's roused for a time the drooping spirits of the English Ministers, who had before been almost overwhelmed by the news of the repeated and uninterrupted success of the French troops over the Austrians; and as the Russian army had now joined them, the enemies of the French boasted that the campaign would end in favour of the allied armies of Austria and Russia. On the 31st of October, however, the French defeated the Austrians once more on the Adige. Sweden now joined the Austrians and Russians, and declared war against France. On the 10th of November, the Austrians were again defeated by the French at Moelk. On the 11th, Marshal Mortier defeated the Russians; and on the 13th, the French army entered VIENNA. On the 16th, the French defeated the Russians at Gunstersdorff; and on the 2d of December, the memorable and decisive battle of Austerlitz was fought, where the combined armies of Austria and Russia were signally defeated, and routed with immense loss. On the 6th of the same month, Austria sued for an armistice, which was granted by Napoleon; and on the 26th, Napoleon compelled her to sign a treaty of peace at Presburg; upon which occasion he bestowed the title of King upon the Electors of Bavaria and Wirtemburgh, the latter of whom was the husband of the Princess Royal of England, and elevated her to the rank of Queen of Wirtemburgh. Thus did our most powerful enemy raise one of the Royal Family of England from the rank of a petty Electress to the rank of Queen; and, under all the circumstances, this was a very remarkable event. On the 27th of the same month Buonaparte caused his brother Joseph to be crowned King of Naples. This wonderful man now had at his command all the crowned heads of Europe. He made Kings and Queens with as much ease, and with as little concern, as ginger bread dolls are made for a country fair. The proud, haughty tyrant, the Emperor of Germany, was at his feet, and Alexander trembled and obeyed his nod. The fortune of war was, during the campaign, most propitious to Napoleon; he beat the enemy in every quarter, and success attended every movement of his armies: to be sure, his different corps were commanded by the most intelligent, brave, and renowned generals in the universe; such as never before adorned any age or country.

The death of Nelson, at the battle of Trafalgar, although it did not detract from the brilliancy of the victory, was, nevertheless, a great drawback upon the pleasure that the news would have otherwise afforded to the country; for every individual laid aside, on this occasion, all feelings of political hostility, forgot his errors and his crimes as a politician and a man, and lamented the loss of the hero. No one will ever dispute Nelson's cool, determined presence of mind, in the midst of danger and the greatest difficulties; he possessed this admirable quality in a super-eminent degree. His presence of mind, which never deserted him in the midst of danger, is the sure indication of real courage; and this merit will be freely conceded to Nelson, even by those who abhorred his political subserviency.

Mr. Pitt severely felt the loss of the gallant admiral; and what with the detection and exposure which was made by the 10th Report of the Naval Commissioners, and the disgrace that was consequently brought not only upon himself and his bosom friend Lord Melville, but upon the whole of his administration; and what with the repeated and signal success of Napoleon and the French armies in Germany, the health of the Heaven-born Minister was so affected that he was obliged to go to Bath for his recovery. I shall never forget my seeing him leave York House, with his friend, about 10 o'clock in the morning on the very day that he received the dispatches of the news of the battle of Austerlitz. He walked down Melsom-street smiling and laughing with his friend, on their way to the Pump-room. In the mean time the dispatches arrived express, and were delivered to him there, as I learned afterwards. I met him again, walking down Argyll-street, in his way home to his lodgings, in Laura-place. I observed the alteration in his countenance, and remarked to my friend, with whom I was walking, "that some bad tidings had arrived; that Mr. Pitt looked as if he had received his DEATH-BLOW." If he had been shot through the body, the alteration in his countenance and manner could not have been more evident; he could scarcely reel along as he leaned upon the arm of his friend; his head hung down upon his chest, and he looked more dead than alive. In ten minutes after this I arrived at the Library. The mail had brought the papers, which confirmed the news of the complete overthrow of the combined Russian and Austrian armies at the battle of Austerlitz. Mr. Pitt returned to town, and I believe that he never left his house afterwards. Such an accumulation of difficulties and disasters was too much for his already shaken mind to support, and his death, I believe, was caused thereby. He never held his head fully up after the vote of the House, which declared his friend Lord Melville to have been guilty of "a gross violation of the law, and a high breach of duty." He made every personal effort in his power, and used his all-powerful interest to prevail upon a majority of his tools in the House to agree to the amendment which he proposed to substitute, in the stead of the above important and convincing declaration; namely, he moved to leave out the words "gross violation of the law, and a high breach of duty," and insert in lieu of them, the words "contrary to the "intention of the law." But the Ministerial Members of that Honourable House, corrupt as Pitt had made them, scouted his motion; his own tools voted against him, and he and his friend Melville were left in a minority upon his own dunghill. This was too much for his haughty, stubborn spirit to bear. To be handed down to posterity, so deservedly covered with the infamous charge of having connived at peculation; for the Heaven-born Minister to have been defeated, and convicted of having winked at the plundering of the people, and betraying his sovereign, who had confided to his hands the guardianship of their treasure, was too much even for his impudent, overbearing spirit to support; and he lingered out the remainder of his existence, and descended to the grave a wretched example of bloated pride, and detected mal-administration.

The public were greatly indebted to Mr. Whitbread for his exposure of these delinquencies in Parliament; but they were much more indebted to Mr. Cobbett, for his unwearied exertions, his able, clear, and perspicuous expositions of the whole of the transactions, which were published in his Weekly Political Register; which Register was universally read, with the greatest avidity, from one end of the kingdom to the other.

The Parliament was prorogued to the 21st of January, 1806, and meanwhile no exertions were spared by the Opposition, or Whigs, to keep the public feeling alive, as to the delinquency of Lord Melville, and to prepare them for his impeachment at the next meeting of the Parliament. The people of England had never thought for themselves, but had been hitherto made the puppets of the two great contending factions of the state, the Whigs and the Tories, alternately taking part sometimes with one and sometimes with the other; and the great object of these factions appeared to be always to join in keeping the people in a state of ignorance, and that faction that could best dupe and deceive John Gull was sure to be in place and power. The Pitt faction had succeeded in this their amiable occupation for a great length of time. In the years 1793 and 1794, they had so contrived to addle the brains of the multitude that their heads had been wool-gathering ever since; their vision had been then so mystified, and their brains had been so confused by the mountebank tricks of Pitt and his associates, that nothing but the pen of a Cobbett could bring them to their right senses again.

I was a constant reader of Cobbett's Register, and although, as I have said, I had been rather disgusted with the man at my first interview with him, yet I was quite enraptured with the beautiful productions of his pen, dictated by his powerful mind. I was become a professed politician; I had imbibed the sentiments of Lord Bolingbroke, that "the Constitution of England is the business of every Englishman." I therefore made politics my study, and I looked for Cobbett's Register with as much anxiety as I had heretofore looked to the day and hour that the fox-hounds were to meet; and if by any accident the post did not bring the Weekly Register, I was just as much disappointed, and felt as much mortified, as I had previously felt at being disappointed or deprived of a good fox-chase. I beg it to be understood, however, that I by no means had given up the sports of the field, which I enjoyed with as great a zest as I ever did; but when I returned from the pleasures of the chase, or retired from the field with my dogs and my gun, instead of spending the remainder of my time in routs, balls, and plays, in drinking or carousing with bacchanalian parties, I devoted my leisure hours to reading and studying the history of my country, and the characters of its former heroes and legislators, as compared with those of that day. No man enjoyed more domestic happiness than I did; my home was always rendered delightful by its inmates studying to make each other comfortable; and thus, instead of its being a scene of strife and quarrelling, as the homes of some of my friends were, it was quite the reverse; let me be occupied abroad how or where I would, I always returned to my home with pleasure; and the certainty of being received with open arms and a sincere and gratifying welcome, always made me long for that delight whenever I was absent.

The poor had felt considerable relief by the fall in the price of bread, since the commencement of the year, when the quartern loaf was as high as one shilling and four-pence half-penny; but it had now fallen to ten-pence. The misery that had been entailed upon the poor during the winter of 1804-5, in consequence of the enormous price of all sorts of provisions, was most heart-rending and revolting to the feelings of every one possessing a particle of humanity. I did every thing that lay in my power to relieve the wants and sooth the sorrows of my poor neighbours in the parish of Enford; I took care that my own servants should not want any of the common necessaries of life, but numerous little comforts, and hitherto esteemed necessaries, were, however reluctantly, obliged to be dispensed with.

I saw with pain a sad falling off in the character of the labouring poor; they were for the most part become paupers, while those who still had the spirit, and the pride to keep from the parish book were suffering the most cutting penury, and the greatest privations. I have often witnessed the contending struggles of a poor but high-spirited labourer, and seen him submitting to the most pinching want before his honourable feelings would allow him to apply for parish relief; himself, his wife and children, almost driven to a state bordering upon starvation, before he could bring his mind to admit the degrading idea of asking for parochial alms. Many and many is the half-crown that I have slipped unobserved into the hand of such a man, to enable him the better to overcome the hardships of winter; with the fond, but futile hope, that the next harvest might enable him to surmount his difficulties, and with the fruit of his honest labour procure bread to stop the mouths of his half-starved wife and children. My means had been greatly curtailed by the cursed brewery at Clifton, which was a perpetual drain upon my purse; for all that I acquired by the good management of my farms was devoured by the calls made from the brewery. This rendered me less able to assist my poorer neighbours; but I have the consolation to reflect, that I did my best.

A Bill, which has been lately before the House of Commons, to protect dumb animals from the brutal treatment of more brutal man, reminds me of an occurrence or two that happened to myself, and which, in justice to my character, ought not to be omitted. As I was riding to my farm at Widdington, one summer's day, with the Reverend William White, the present Rector of Teffont, in Wiltshire, who was on a visit at my house at Chisenbury, we perceived a brute, in the shape of a man, belabouring with a large stick a poor ass, who had sunk down under the weight of his load, a large heavy bag of ruddle. Exhausted by the heat of a meridian sun, the poor beast lay prostrate upon the ground, totally deprived of the power of rising with his burden upon his back. I sharply rode up, and warmly remonstrated with the huge two-legged brute upon his inhumanity, and offered to assist him in unloading the beast, to enable him to rise, and to help him to reload the animal after he had risen. This was rudely refused, and with an oath I was desired to mind my own business; while the fellow continued, in a most unmerciful manner, to beat the wretched unresisting beast upon a raw place on the upper end of his tail. Exasperated at the fellow's brutality, I rode up to him, and having seized his bludgeon, as he was brandishing it in the air about to apply it once more to the already lacerated rump of the poor ass, with an effort of strength I wrenched the bludgeon from the inhuman monster's hand, and threw it with great violence sixty or seventy yards over the hedge, into an adjoining corn-field. Gnashing his teeth with rage at being deprived of his implement of torture, and determined to be revenged for my interference, the ruffian immediately drew out a large clasp knife from his pocket, and seizing the ass by the tail, and exclaiming, "I will show you that I have a right to do what I please with my own beast," he instantly cut off his tail within two inches of his rump, and with savage ferocity he began kicking the wounded part with all his might, with a pair of thick-topped shoes. This was too much for me to witness, without making an effort to relieve the wretched animal, and punish its brutal master. I sprung from my saddle, and having consigned my horse to the care of my acquaintance, the parson, I flew to rescue the poor beast from its inhuman tormentor. The ruffian instantly turned to meet me, and having raised the clasp knife in a menacing attitude, he swore, with the most blasphemous imprecations, that he would plunge it into my heart, if I approached him another inch. My friend, the parson, urged me to forbear; but, keeping my eye steadily fixed upon that of the monster, while his hand was still raised with the bloody knife suspended, I gave him, as quick as lightning, a blow from my fist, which took the villain under the left ear, levelled him with the earth, and made him bite the dust. The knife fell from his hand, and I instantly seized it, and before the two-legged brute, who lay stunned upon the ground, could rise, I cut the girth which bound the load upon the back of the ass, and relieved him from his burden. The cowardly ruffian still lay sprawling, fearing to rise, because he dreaded a repetition of my chastisement, which I was most anxious to have given him if he had stood upon his legs; but which I declined to do while he was prostrate. The fellow now began to beg for mercy, and pretended to be very sorry for his conduct. The parson now proposed to give him a severe hiding for his villainous treatment of the poor beast; but as the coward would not get off his breech, but remained seated upon the earth, and declared that he would not get upon his legs while I remained, he saved himself from a severe and well-merited drubbing. He very coolly offered to sell me the mutilated beast, which I instantly purchased for five shillings, to save him from again falling into the hands of his cruel master. I had it sent home, and the greatest care possible was taken of it. But with all my care and attention, the poor thing never recovered from its ill-treatment; it lingered for four or five months and died. This was the only ass I ever was master of in my life; in fact, I always objected to the keeping of an ass, because I could not bear to see the ill-treatment to which they are generally subject.

I could relate several similar instances, wherein I have placed myself in the most imminent peril, urged on by an impetuous abhorrence of tyranny, even when that tyranny is exercised towards a beast. One other instance will, perhaps, induce the reader to think that my detestation of cruelty has often led me not only into acts of indiscretion, but that my rashness upon such occasions has been almost bordering upon criminal enthusiasm. Coming down Newgate Street, one Monday afternoon, I saw a considerable crowd of people surrounding a drover, who held a butcher's knife in his hand, brandishing it in the air, and threatening any one that might approach him. I inquired the cause of the fellow's conduct, and his being thus surrounded by the enraged multitude. A beautiful ox was pointed out to me on the other side of the street, which stood trembling ready to drop down. To save himself trouble in driving the beast, the ruffian, who had undertaken to conduct it to Whitechapel for a butcher, had severed the tendon Achilles with his sharp knife; a practice which, I am informed, frequently occurs in London and which is called hamstringing. The populace, men and women, appeared very much enraged against this monster of a drover, and two constables, with their staves, stood ready to seize him; but he kept them and the whole crowd at bay, with the violent brandishing of his knife, and threatening destruction to any one who attempted to meddle with him. Several efforts were made to seize him, which he dexterously avoided. At length, I rushed up to him, and felled him to the earth, with a tremendous and well-directed blow with my fist under the ear. He was immediately seized by the constables, and the knife was taken from him. But I was not to get off quite so easy with him as I did with the ass-driver. The fellow, being disarmed, instantly stripped in buff, and offered to fight the man who had knocked him down. All eyes were fixed upon me, a perfect stranger, and the general exclamation was,—"Have nothing to do with him, Sir;" but, as the constables appeared to doubt whether they had the power to hold him in custody, there being no law against a drover maiming his beast, unless his master disapproved of it; and as I saw the fellow was likely to escape without further punishment, I instantly accepted his offer, and volunteered to punish him myself, urged on by the pitiable appearance of the poor ox, a beautiful animal which had not moved one inch the whole of this time. I therefore imprudently stripped, and having consigned my clothes into the hands of a bye-stander, I set to, and in three rounds I beat my man blind; and having a fourth time knocked him down, without receiving any injury myself, he declined to meet me again. My clothes and watch were honestly returned; and, having replaced them on my back, I departed, receiving the hearty thanks of the surrounding multitude, without being recognised by any one. In fact, I was not at all known in London at that time. I laughed heartily, as an account of it was read the next morning, in the newspapers, while I was at breakfast in the coffee-room, at the Black Lion, Water Lane; the whole party joining in the praises of the man who had chastised the brutal ruffian.

One more circumstance of this sort will, I should think, be quite enough to convince the reader that I was always a determined foe to baseness and cruelty. As I was sitting with some ladies on a hot summer's day, in a front room of the Fountain Inn, at Portsmouth, with the window open, looking into the High-Street, observing the passing crowd, it being a fair day, we discovered an ill-looking fellow pilfering some articles from the stall of a poor woman opposite. This transaction was also observed by Admiral Montague, the Port Admiral, who was sitting in the adjoining room of the inn, with a friend, amusing himself with observing the passing scene. We hailed the poor woman, who detected the fellow in the fact; but, having dropped the articles on the pavement, he vociferously declared that he had never touched them. A crowd soon collected, particularly of women, and demanded that he should be taken into custody. He drew his knife, (always the ready resort of a coward) and placing his back in a corner against the wall, he set them all at defiance, and for a considerable length of time successfully resisted every attempt to secure him. At last he was, to all appearance, getting the better of his assailants, and by loudly asserting that she had most wrongfully and maliciously accused him, he was absolutely endeavoring to turn the tide of popular indignation against the poor woman who had detected him. The fact was, that the terror excited by his violence overcame the zeal of his accusers; and if it had not been kept up by three or four women, he would not only have escaped with impunity, but he would have turned the tables upon the poor woman whom he had endeavoured to rob. These women, however, kept up an unceasing battery with their tongues, which he at length began to put down by violence, pushing them away with one hand, and threatening them with the upraised knife in the other. This scene lasted nearly a quarter of an hour, and although my fingers itched to punish the ruffian, yet I was restrained by the entreaties of the ladies who were with me. At last he struck one of the women a violent blow, and knocked her down. This drew upon him the execration of the enraged multitude; but no one attempted either to disarm or to seize him. A second blow, inflicted upon a decent looking female, roused my indignation at the cowardice of the bye-standers, and I hastily left the room, crossed the street, and having walked deliberately up to him, pretending to inquire what was the matter, before he was at all aware of my intentions, and just as he was about to relate his story, I, with a well-directed blow, with my fist under the ear, laid him sprawling upon the pavement; his knife was seized, and I left him unarmed to the care of the Portsmouth ladies that surrounded him, who did not fail to punish him with their talons.

As I was passing over the street, on my return to the inn, Admiral Montague, who had witnessed the whole affair, looked out of his window and warmly gave me his personal thanks, for the summary justice which I had inflicted upon the ruffian thief, who had kept the street in an uproar for nearly half an hour. I went back to my party very well satisfied with the exploit I had performed; although I felt so very sensible of the danger I had incurred, that I promised my friends faithfully that I would never again volunteer in such dangerous service. About two hours afterwards, I very unexpectedly received a warrant from Sir John Carter, the Mayor, to attend immediately at his office, to appear to a charge of a violent assault, committed in the public street, &c. &c. I took my hat and attended the Mayor's officer instantly, without the slightest hesitation; but as the Admiral had left the inn I had no witness with me. I, however, sent the waiter to bring the woman who had been robbed, and one of those who had been assaulted by the ruffian, to follow me to the house of the Mayor; but, almost as soon as I had arrived there, and before the fellow had finished making his charge, in walked the Port Admiral Montague, who having heard the circumstance, came immediately to give evidence of the facts to which he had been an eye-witness from the window of the inn. The gallant Admiral related the circumstances, and passed a high eulogium upon my courage and public spirit, in which he was cordially joined by his friend Sir John Carter; and the fellow, who was a pot-house keeper, from Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, escaped with a very severe reprimand, the poor woman having declined to prosecute him.

If I were not fearful of tiring the reader, I could continue a long chain of rencontres of a similar nature, which occurred to me in my youthful days; but as I have, I think, given quite sufficient to delineate the decisive character of the author at that period, I shall proceed, with other matters; only just observing by the way, that a frequent recurrence of such events obtained for me the name of a very violent young man, though, nineteen times out of twenty my violence was exercised in the cause of humanity; or in protecting and defending the weak and helpless, against the aggressions of the rich and powerful.

Returning from London, in the Ba—- mail, on a very severe frosty moonlight night, as we were passing Cranford-bridge, the coachman got one of the hind wheels firmly locked and entangled in that of a heavy brewer's dray, which gave us a most violent shock and nearly overturned the coach. A plentiful share of the slang abuse, usually arising upon such occasions, passed between the coachman and guard of the mail and the driver and attendant of the dray. The wheel of the coach appeared to be so firmly entangled in that of the dray, that it required a considerable exertion to release it; and the guard was entreating the passengers to assist him. But an Irish officer of dragoons, who was sitting by my side, very coolly answered, that as coachee had got into the scrape he might get out of it again and be d—d. For once in my life I was determined to follow such a selfish example; but, just as I had made up my mind to sit still and enjoy my own ease and comfort, the Irishman, who was looking out of one of the windows of the coach on the opposite side to that where the dray stood, exclaimed "by Jasus there is a fellow fallen from off his horse into the water, and is drowning." The moon shone almost as bright as day, and, as this happened within half a dozen yards of the coach window, it was perfectly visible to the Irish officer, who still sat perfectly cool, and as unconcerned as possible; observing, as he leant back in the coach, "the fellow is actually gone to the bottom, and I saw the last of him as he sunk." Till now I really thought the gentleman had merely witnessed the ducking of some one who had fallen into the pond; but this last observation induced me to call loudly to the guard to open the door; and, quite forgetting my determination to follow the officer's doctrine and example, "to take things coolly and let every one look to himself," I sprang out of the coach to the edge of the water, where a hat floating thereon was the only visible proof that any one was in the water. The Irishman, however, who still sat snug in the coach, and who never budged an inch, affirmed with an oath that the man had sunk exactly under where the hat was floating. The life of a fellow creature being at stake, cold, calculating prudence was instantly banished from my ardent mind; and, without waiting another moment, I plunged into the water, which I found was beyond my depth, and having swam to the spot, which was only a few yards, I came instantly in contact with the body, which I seized and dragged to the water edge, and, with some difficulty, assisted by the guard, he was hoisted out of the pond. The Irishman had lustily, but perhaps very prudently, ordered the coachman, at his peril, not to leave his horses, although a passenger on the box had the reins in his hand. By this time assistance came from the inn (I think the Crown), kept at that time by a person of the name of Goddard. Amongst the number of those who flocked to witness this distressing scene was a young man, who exclaimed, in a frantic agony of voice and gesture, "it is my father!" and he instantly seized the apparently drowned man by the heels, and held him upright, with his head upon the ground, his feet in the air, as he said, to let the water run out of him; an old, vulgar, and long exploded practice, which has proved in almost every instance fatal. I expostulated, but in vain; I pitied the agonised feelings of the youth, while I struggled to release his father by force from the fatal posture in which he had, although with the best intention, unguardedly and obstinately placed him. He, however, resisted my efforts with personal violence, in spite of the expostulations of the guard. Seeing that I was likely to have my humane intentions frustrated by the young man's obstinacy, and, as no time was to be lost, I resorted to my usual knock-down argument, and levelled the son with the earth, to save the life of the father. This I did so effectually that he was totally incapable of resistance; and, with the aid of the guard, I bore off the drowned man upon my shoulders to the inn, about a hundred yards distant. Dripping wet, and covered with mud, I assisted to strip him before the kitchen fire, and instantly proceeded to use the means recommended by the Humane Society, (and by which means I had once restored to animation a female who had attempted to drown herself). By chafing the body with warm cloths, rubbing in brandy about the heart, applying bottles filled with hot water to his feet, &c. in which the guard manfully and zealously assisted the whole time, declaring that the coach should wait as long for me as I liked, in a very few minutes my labour and exertion was rewarded with symptoms of returning animation, by the twitching of one leg; upon which a fresh hot bottle was applied to his foot; we redoubled our exertion, and in another minute he opened his eyes and became sick. I now left him to the care of his son, the guard, and others, to continue the rubbing, while I went with the landlord and changed my clothes, having remained twenty minutes in the same state in which I had left the water, which being very muddy, I had spoiled at least ten pounds worth of wearing apparel. The landlord, however, furnished me with what I had not got in my trunk.

When I returned down stairs, I perceived my patient, who I was informed was an old post-boy, sitting in the settle of the tap-room, quite recovered; and when I was pointed out to him by his master, as his deliverer from a watery grave, the fellow attacked me in the most violent and abusive manner, and called down horrid imprecations upon my head for having saved him from that end which I now found he had courted, by throwing himself off the horse's back, with the intention of destroying himself. I was so exasperated with the fellow's ingratitude that it was with difficulty the landlord and the guard restrained me from inflicting upon him summary chastisement for his insolence; but the conviction of his insanity soon weighed still more powerfully with me to ensure my forbearance than any thing the landlord or the guard could have urged for his protection. At this moment my fellow passenger, who had never before appeared, but who had taken the advantage of this delay to get a comfortable cup of coffee, in a warm parlour, walked in, and began to moralize with me upon the folly "of troubling myself with other people's business;" and, as he did this with a very grave face, it had the desired effect, and I really began to meditate and to calculate which of the two, he or I, was the most extraordinary being; and I was almost disposed to concede to him the palm of being the most rational, a fact of which he appeared thoroughly to be convinced, and in which opinion he was strongly confirmed, after I got into the mail, and related to him the adventure of my having nearly lost my life, a few years before, in saving a female from being drowned in a deep river, on a Monday, who contrived to put an end to her existence and find a watery grave on the following Thursday, in a ditch which contained only eighteen inches of water. We travelled as far as Marlborough together, where we parted; he proceeded to Bath in the mail, and I to my home at Chisenbury, in my curricle. Parliament met on the 21st of January, and on the TWENTY-THIRD DAY OF JANUARY,1806, the Heaven-born Minister, WILLIAM PITT, DIED, at his house at Putney. This man had, for nearly a quarter of a century, reigned triumphant over the people of England with the most despotic and arbitrary sway, by the means of a corrupt majority of a set of boroughmongers, who called themselves and their agents the House of Commons; thus pretending to be the representatives of the people of England, while, in fact, they might as well have been said to represent the people of Algiers as the people of England, a majority of them being returned by one hundred and fifty-four individuals. I may, I believe, venture to give my opinion of the House of Commons, such as it was constituted in the days and reign of Pitt. The banishment act would, of course, preclude me from speaking of the present House of Commons with the same sincerity and freedom; therefore, whether there be any resemblance in the present House of Commons to that of the House as it was constituted in the reign of Pitt, I must leave for the determination of those who have paid attention to their proceedings.

On the death of Mr. Pitt, the then House of Commons immediately voted that his debts should be paid by JOHN GULL, and that he should have a public funeral, at JOHN'S expense! This was all perfectly in character, for it was voted before the Talents or Whigs came into place and power. A ministry, a new ministry, was now made up of most heterogeneous materials; it consisted of men differing as widely from each other as any of the factions could differ; Fox and Grenville united, and, to crown the whole, Lord Sidmouth made one of the cabinet. Mr. Fox, who had been the determined opponent, the violent contemner, of all the measures of Mr. Pitt, formed an union with Lord Grenville, who had been the constant supporter of the very worst measures of Mr. Pitt! As for Lord Sidmouth, all the Addingtons appeared determined to have a "finger in the pie!" let who would be in office, the Addingtons appeared determined to have a share of the plunder, by joining them. Such opposite characters, such vinegar and oil politicians, were not likely to amalgamate so as to produce any good for the people; they might, indeed, combine to share the profits of place, but they were sure never to agree in any measure that was likely to promote the freedom and happiness of the people. This, however, was called a Whig administration; and it will not be unuseful to record the names of those personages who composed this Whig administration. They were as follow, which I beg my readers to peruse attentively:—

Right Rev. Dr. C. Manners Sutton, Archbishop of Canterbury. Thomas Lord Erskine, Lord High Chancellor. Dr. William Markham, Archbishop of York. Earl Fitzwilliam, Lord President of the Council. Viscount Sidmouth, Lord Privy Seal. William Lord Grenville, First Lord of the Treasury. Lord Henry Petty, Chancellor of the Exchequer. Earl Spencer, Viscount Howick, and Right Honorable William Windham, Secretaries of State. Right Hon. Thomas Grenville, First Lord of the Admiralty. Sir David Dundas, Commander in Chief. Right Hon. Charles Abbot, Speaker of the House of Commons. Right Hon. Sir William Grant, Master of the Rolls. Edward Lord Ellenborough, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench. Sir Arthur Pigott, Attorney General. Sir Samuel Romilly, Solicitor General. Right Hon. Sir William Scott, Judge of the Admiralty. Right Hon. Richard Brindley Sheridan, Treasurer of the Navy. Earl Temple and Lord John Townsend, Paymasters of the Army. Francis Earl of Moira, Master General of the Ordnance. Right Hon. Richard Fitzpatrick, Secretary at War. John Duke of Bedford, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.

Here, my friends, you have a pretty correct list of the Whig administration, or "All the Talents," as they were facetiously and ironically called, or rather nicknamed, who were called to office upon the death of Mr. PITT, a man of brilliant talents, and irresistible eloquence; but a man who turned these great gifts of the Supreme Being to the destruction of human liberty, and who directed his powerful genius, and the great facilities that were given him by his having the direction of the resources of this laborious and enterprising nation at his command, to the very worst of purposes, to the annihilation of the rights and liberties of his countrymen. Some of the poisonous effects of the Pitt system the nation has long been tasting, but the cup of bitterness and misery that it has produced is now filled to the brim, and its baleful contents are beginning to act fully on this once prosperous nation, and to blast and wither in the bud the very prospects of its once happy people. Mr. Pitt, in his younger days, before his ambition got the better of his principles, had been a reformer; but when he once got into place and power, he became the greatest apostate that ever existed; and, true apostate like, he endeavoured to hang his former associates and companions in that cause which he had so basely abandoned and betrayed. If there ever lived one man more deserving the execration of the whole human race than another, Mr. Pitt was that man. He corrupted the very source of justice, by bribing and packing the pretended representatives of the people; but it required the Whigs, the base Whigs, to put a stamp upon the system which Pitt created, to make it a perpetual bar and an everlasting curse to the nation.

The Whigs were at this time become popular with the nation at large, and possessed the confidence of the thinking and honourable portion of the people. The friends of rational liberty looked to them with, what was believed to be, a well-grounded hope, for some relief—some relaxation from the horrors of that accursed system which Mr. Fox and his friends had so ably and so zealously opposed for nearly twenty years; that system which they had invariably condemned and exposed, as the greatest curse that could befal a nation; and for having persisted in which infamous, impolitic, and ruinous course so long, they had predicted the downfall of this country.

I own that I was one of Mr. Fox's most enthusiastic admirers. I was too young and inexperienced a politician, to doubt for a moment the sincerity of his professions; I had for many many years watched his ardent and eloquent opposition to the measures of Mr. Pitt, and my whole heart and soul had gone hand in hand with him. I own I indulged the most confident hope that he would now realize all his former professions. Now that he was in place, and had a large majority of those who called themselves the representatives of the people at his command; now that he had the power to do good, I, for one, expected that he would tread in the "stern path of duty," and set about restoring those rights and liberties of the people, the loss of which he had so pathetically, and for so many years, expatiated on, and deplored. But, alas! my fond hopes were soon blasted; the expectations of the whole nation were soon disappointed. The very FIRST act of the Whig ministry was a death-blow to the fondly-cherished hopes of every patriotic mind in the kingdom. Lord Grenville held the sinecure office of Auditor of the Exchequer, with a salary of four thousand pounds a year; but being appointed First Lord of the Treasury, with a salary of six thousand pounds a year, it was expected, of course, on every account, that he would resign his former office of Auditor of the Exchequer, it appearing too great a farce to give a man 4,000l. a year to audit his own accounts; and, besides the barefaced absurdity of the thing, it was evidently illegal. In spite of this, these new ministers, dead to every sense and feeling of shame, brought in a bill, and it was passed a law, solely for the purpose of enabling Lord Grenville to hold, at one and the same time, these two offices, which were so palpably incompatible with each other; namely, First Lord of the Treasury, and Auditor of the Exchequer. This shook the faith of every honest man in the country. I own that I was thunder-struck, particularly as Mr. Fox brought the bill into the House of Commons himself, and maintained it with his usual ability, and appeared quite as much in earnest and as eloquent in a bad cause as he had heretofore been in a good one. A vote, as I have already mentioned, had passed the House to pay Mr. Pitt's debts, before these ministers had actually taken their places; and now another vote was passed by them, to erect, at the public expense, a monument to his memory, upon the score of his public services! and this vote was passed, recollect, by the very same men who had declared, for the last twenty years, that the measures of Mr. Pitt were destructive to the nation, burthensome and oppressive to the people, and subversive of their dearest rights and liberties. But Mr. Fox was now in place! the case was now completely altered!!

Mr. Fox's friends now began to doubt his sincerity, and recalled to their recollection the former professions of Mr. Pitt. In a speech, delivered in his place, in the House of Commons, on the 26th of May, 1797, Mr. Fox had, in the following words, reminded Mr. Pitt of his former professions: " My opinion (said Mr. Fox) is, that the best plan of representation is that which shall bring into activity the greatest number of independent voters. That Government alone is strong that has the hearts of the people; and will any man contend, that we should not be more likely to add strength to the state if we were to extend the basis of popular representation? In 1785, the Right Honourable Gentleman (Mr. Pitt) pronounced the awful prophecy, 'without a parliamentary reform the nation will be plunged into new wars; without a parliamentary reform you cannot be safe against bad ministers, nor can even good ministers be of use to you.' Such was his prediction, and it has come upon us. Good God! what a fate is that of the Right Honourable Gentleman, and in what a state of whimsical contradiction does he now stand!" This was the sarcastical language of Mr. Fox, in 1797, when speaking of the apostacy of Mr. Pitt; but which might have been very fairly retorted upon himself in 1806.

At the moment when I am writing this, at half past one o'clock on Thursday, the nineteenth day of July, 1821, I hear about thirty of the poor half-starved populace of Northover giving three cheers in honour of His Majesty's Coronation, or rather in honour of a dinner and some beer, which, I understand, is given to them by Mr. Tuson, the attorney of the place. The system that has made him rich has made his neighbours poor, and he very properly spews his generosity and his loyalty, by giving his poor neighbours a dinner upon this occasion. Poor, deluded, debased wretches! I envy not your feelings; a few months since you were amongst the first voluntarily to address the Queen upon her escape from the fangs of her persecutors, and you voluntarily illuminated your houses upon the occasion. But now your pinching wants, the cravings of your half-starved carcases, give a sort of involuntary action to your lungs, and, in spite of yourselves, your bellies cry "God save King George the Fourth;" and the sound issues from your mouths, in hopes of having the space which the wind occupies in your stomachs replaced with beef, pudding, and beer. But this is one of the dog-days!—God save King George the Fourth, they cry; huzza, again, again, and again! All that I chuse to say is, that it is two years ago, the twenty-first of next month, that Lord Sidmouth addressed a letter to the Manchester Magistrates, which expressed, by command of His Majesty, "THE GREAT SATISFACTION HIS MAJESTY derived from their prompt, decisive and efficient measures for the preservation of the public tranquillity." God preserve His Majesty from having any occasion to thank the magistrates again for the perpetration of such horrid crime.

I trust the occasion will be an excuse for this digression. Let us now return to the period of 1806. The new ministry began to act so decided a part, that they no longer kept the nation in any suspence as to what course they would pursue. They not only trod in Mr. Pitt's steps, by adopting all his measures, but they greatly outdid him in insulting the feelings of the people. As their THIRD act, they appointed Lord Ellenborough the Chief Justice of the King's Bench, (a political Judge) "one of the cabinet." This was a most unconstitutional measure, and calculated to render the ministry justly unpopular. The FOURTH step they took was to raise the INCOME TAX from six-and-a-quarter to ten per cent. The FIFTH thing they did was, to exempt all the King's funded property from the operation of that tax, while they left that of the widow and orphan, even down to the miserable pittance of fifty pounds a year, subject to all its inquisitorial powers. Their SIXTH measure was, to raise the incomes of all the younger branches of the Royal Family, from twelve to eighteen thousand a year. Their SEVENTH measure was, to bring a bill into the House, to make all private breweries liable to the excise laws; thus daringly meditating the violation of an Englishman's boast, "that his house is his castle." But, most fortunately for the country, the Whig ministry were, in this one instance, left in a disgraceful minority by their own tools, the mock representatives of the people. Their EIGHTH measure was, to continue the French war, expressly for Hanover; Mr. Fox unblushingly declaring, that "Hanover ought to be as dear to us as Hampshire;" although the act of settlement expressly declares it to be a breach of the compact between the king and the people, to go to war on account of any of the king's foreign possessions. Their NINTH measure was, to draw up a bill, which they left in their office, making it, in Ireland, transportation for any person or persons to be seen out of their houses, in any of the prescribed districts, between sun-set in the evening and sun-rise in the morning; and this was to be carried into effect without the sanction of a jury, and merely by the fiat of two magistrates! TENTH, and lastly, they abandoned the cause of the Catholics, in order to save and keep their places, when they found that the King made that abandonment a sine qua non: they had always, for many many years, when in opposition, supported the Catholic claims for emancipation, and had pledged themselves that, whenever they had the power, they would carry that measure into effect; and, as soon as they thought that they were firmly seated in the saddle of state, and their feet well fixed in the stirrups, they brought that measure forward in Parliament, having first gained the execration of every independent man in the united kingdom, for having acted in the way which I have above described.

The ten preceding political acts of the Whig ministry, of "All the Talents," as they impudently called themselves, had rendered them sufficiently odious throughout the whole country; and it only required this last act of theirs to render them as despicable as they were detested. As soon as they gave notice of their intention to bring forward the Catholic claims, the old leaven, the refuse of the Pitt faction, who had only wanted a plausible opportunity, began to bellow aloud for the safety of Mother Church, and the Protestant Ascendancy; declaring that the church, the established religion, was in danger. They had always their intriguers about the person of the old bigotted King George the Third, who immediately took the alarm, or rather took this opportunity of getting rid of a ministry that he never liked, and with whom he had never acted cordially, although they had, in the most subservient manner, complied with all his whims and prejudices. Now was the time then for the remains of the Pitt faction to make an effort to dislodge their enemies from their strong hold of place and power! Alas! alas!! the despicable Whigs now began to cry for help from the people; from that people whom they had so infamously deceived. They, however, called in vain for the protecting hand of that people whom they had so basely betrayed; they called in vain for the helping hand of that people whom they had insulted and oppressed, and whose voice they had treated with contempt and derision, when basking in the sunshine of power. The people had been enlightened; the people had read Cobbett, and they were no longer to be deluded, and made the tools of a despicable, a hypocritical, and a tyrannical faction, such as the Whigs had proved themselves during their administration. The King was well advised of this by the old PITT creatures; he therefore treated the Whig ministers with very little ceremony; he made a very serious affair of their intention to make him violate his coronation oath; he demanded that they should abandon the Catholics, or abandon their places. The place-loving Whigs made no parley even with the King, but instantly and unconditionally agreed to comply with his demand; thus deserting the Catholics and their own principles together, to save their places. The King was astonished and disappointed; he had no idea that they would have acted so basely, and Lords Liverpool, Eldon, and Castlereagh were foiled for a moment, in their attempt to dislodge them; but their best ally was the hatred and the indignation which the people evinced towards the Whigs. Taking advantage of this, the Outs urged the King on to insult his then ministers, by demanding a written pledge from them, that they would never bring forward the measure any more in Parliament; thus openly evincing that His Majesty would not take their words. The paltry Whigs did all they could to save their places; they bore kicking with wonderful patience; they were as subservient as spaniels; they promised every thing, and they prayed lustily; but the King was determined, and persisted in demanding a written pledge. This was such a premeditated, barefaced insult, that they could not submit to it. They would bear kicking privately, but it was too much to be kicked and cuffed so publicly, and to be asked to sign their names to their own condemnation; this was too much for the most degraded of men to bear with any degree of temper. They now remonstrated, but their remonstrances were in vain; the King despised them for their meanness as much as he had before detested them for their insolence, and, without any further ceremony, he gave them one more kick, and kicked them headlong out of place and power.

Thus fell the bass Whig faction, never to rise more! deservedly execrated by all honest men, lamented by none but those who profited by their being in office, by their hangers-on, and by such men as Mr. Waithman, the city patriot, who was looking out for a place with as much eagerness and anxiety as a cat would watch to pounce upon a mouse: a few such men as these were mortified and hurt at the fall of those to whom they were looking up for situations of profit, and for pensions, which were to be extorted from the pockets of the people; but the nation at large rejoiced at the downfal of these upstart, hypocritical pretenders to patriotism. The people knew that they should not gain any thing by the change; they knew that the Pittites were open and avowed enemies to the liberties of the people; and, therefore, they did not expect any good from them. But the Whigs had professed every thing, and performed nothing; they had grossly deceived the people, and, in revenge for their treachery, everyone rejoiced at their fall. How many a good and staunch friend to Liberty did I know, at this time, who became for ever neutralized, in consequence of having been deceived in Fox; they now made up their minds never again to place any confidence in any political professions, from whomsoever they might come.

Mr. Pitt was interred, with great funeral pomp, on the 22nd day of February. On the 29th of April, the Commons impeached Lord Melville; and, after being convicted by the unanimous verdict of the whole nation, he was acquitted by a majority of his brother peers. On the 12th of June, peace was signed between the Emperor of France and our magnanimous ally the Emperor of Russia: on the 20th of July, and on the 6th of August, the sanctified Emperor of Austria abdicated the throne of Germany, and declared himself the hereditary Emperor of Austria.

On the 13th of September, Mr. Fox died at Chiswick. Oh! what an injury has the character of human nature sustained by his not having died one year before! If Mr. Fox had been taken from this world at the time when Mr. Pitt died, his name would have been immortalized, and he would have been handed down to posterity as one of the brightest and purest instances of political patriotism. But, alas! he unfortunately lived to make one of the Whig ministry, one of the "Talents" in 1806, and his deeds are recorded in the TEN acts of the Whigs, as I have enumerated them above.

About this period the conduct of the Princess of Wales was investigated by a committee of the privy council. This affair, which was called the "Delicate Investigation," lasted some time, and caused a considerable sensation throughout the country. It created great anxiety amongst politicians to ascertain what was the nature and extent of the inquiry; but it was studiously kept a profound secret, very much to the injury of the Princess, because, amongst the Prince of Wales's friends, there were not wanting friends, aspersers of character, to whisper away her fair fame.

Lord Lauderdale went to Paris on an embassy, to negotiate peace, but soon returned without any successful termination of his mission. Mr. Fox was buried by a public funeral, in Westminster Abbey, on the 10th of October, and was attended by his numerous friends, which composed a great portion of the men of talent belonging to both Houses of Parliament. One act of the Whig ministry deserves to be recorded with the highest praise; and this is a proof that few men are so worthless but they possess some good qualities. If the Whig ministers had, in other respects, conducted themselves with even a small portion of becoming decency towards the nation; and, if they had not perpetuated a system of white slavery at home, which they certainly did in almost every measure that they proposed to and carried through Parliament, they would have been immortalised by the abolition of the black slave trade abroad. But, in this measure of abolishing the slave trade, the canting Saints, with Wilberforce at their head, joined them with as great an avidity as they supported every measure to curtail the rights and liberties of the people at home. Lord Henry Petty stamped his character as a statesman, by becoming a humble imitator of Mr. Pitt, even so far as to eulogise the greatest of all frauds and humbugs, the 11 Sinking Fund." But this was always a subject which tickled John Gull's ear, at the same time that it puzzled his brains, and emptied his pockets.