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royal University, with the charming simplicity, order and regularity of my Alma Mater; and I remembered with regret,
" The thoughtless day, the easy night,
That fly th' approach of morp, Which gave me such pure, unclouded happiness in the excellent institution of St. Mary's. Then I glided down the unruffled stream of life, regardless of the sweeping whirlwind " that hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.” But, since I have acquired, by sad experience, a knowledge of mankind, my heart has gradually estranged itself from the frivolous world around me.
As I elbow my way through the crowded vale of existence, I shall brood over my sorrows in independent loneliness; and if my strength sink beneath the load of misery, I shall never have recourse to my cold blooded neighbour for assistance-I shall sink without his hypocritical condolence. For my part (says H. K. White,) I believe my dog is as sincere a friend as any I possess: and when I shall receive that summons which may not now be far distant, he will whine a funeral requiem over my grave, more piteously than all the hired mourners of Christendom.
When shall the deadly hate of faction cease,
To John D
London, August 8, 1819. I was lately present at the Smithfield Reform meeting, which had been announced for a long time by placards, hand bills, &c. At poon, I got a seat at a window which overlooked the large square of Smithfield. Twenty thousand persons were already assembled. Some of them sauntered up and down, watch. ing for the approach of the ambulating hustings; others placed themselves on the sheep-pens, lamp-posts and stalls, to be gratified with the sight of the orators. The light-fingered gentry were busily engaged in turning the patriotism or curiosity of their neighbours to the best advantage; I left my valuables at home, for fear of a visit, or rather visitation, from these amateurs of other people's property—and it was well for me that I did so, for in the very room in which I was stationed, a fellow was detected in an attempt to find what o'clock it was by his neighbour's watch!
About one P. M., the orators were safely lodged on the hustings. Hunt came forward amidst the salvos of reiterated plaudits, and
addressed the assembled multitude in a long speech, in which he developed the principles of Radical Reform, and explained
“ How tyrant's blood o'er many a region wide,
Rolls to a thousand thrones its execrable tide." The sea of upturned faces bent their eyes on the hustings as a common centre. Flags waved from the scaffold with appropriate inscriptions; one, of a blood-red hue, bore the words LIBERTY OR DEATH! “The contemptible reptile (cried Hunt,) who would not subscribe to that sentiment, ought to live a slave and die unlamented.” Afterwards, one Gast came forward, and read a string of resolutions, which were unanimously carried.
It is not my intention to detail the various speechifying of the patriots, nor the letters to and from Lord Sidmouth, nor the quiet arrest of parson Harrison, by a posse of constables, nor the ironical vote of thanks to the Lord Mayor for his anxiety about the public safety during the meeting. Under the window from which I viewed the events of that day, which was so “big with the fate of Cato and of Rome”-a ragged orator began to spout ore rotundo. After having dried his mouth with bawling, he retired to a grog-shop to “whet his whistle," and then re-appeared under my window, where he attracted an immense crowd. He began by stating that the taxes and borough-mongers had reduced him to his present state of misery-his wife and children stary
ing-himself without clothes or food. On this, a shower of sixpences fell about him from the tavern windows. He appeared to acquire new powers from this addition to his pockets-he railed away, very heartily, against all the Lords spiritual and temporal—and even quoted Cicero! at least he lugged his name in, to vouch for some of his assertions. He was interrupted by repeated cheering, and was at length care ried off in triumph on the shoulders of his ragged admirers!
Seeing bilis stuck up at the corners of the streets, announcing a singular debate, I resolved to spend the following evening in listening to the eccentric harangues which were promised. The debating room was a filthy garret in a narrow street near Soho Square. The question to be discussed was whether, in the present depressed state of the country, it were not better to submit to a foreign yoke, rather than bear the chains of ministerial tyrannyand what foreign nation would be preferable?” The debate was opened by an ancient youth, who announced that he was not an Englishmar, but had long been a resident in this country: He did not directly inform us where he had been born-but from his calling the Russians a pack of “barbarous rascals”-the Germans a set of “mongrel wretches,” and bestowing similar terms of endearment on every nation in Europe except France, and from his Gascon accent, and his preferring the French yoke
to any other, he soon“ let the cat out of the bag!”
His speech was really a curiosity; for it was the very froth of jacobinism. He said that Englishmen were ground with taxes to support a standing army, who were trained to shoot them like dogs. The fast-anchored isle, he observed, presented a formidable appearance on a superficial view—but it was like a beautiful apple-rotten at the heart. “The centre is always weakened, if the circumfe. rence be too much dilated --you have
possessions in every part of the world, and you are weak and miserable at home.” He finished his rhapsody by gravely proposing the yoke of France." Ah ye dogs! (cried he,) you well remember the amiable French lasses, their wines and fruit--you have left bastards enough among them to fix your affections there for ever!”
A venerable Nestor rose to answer this oration but the stink of the garret became so offensive, that I had to hold my nose, and escape down the ladder for fear of suffocation; however, in spite of the villainous smell, I was really much diverted with this display of popular oratory
One of the most singular dramatic entertain, ments which I have witnessed in London, was “ Mr, Mathews At Home," a species of theatrical amusement for which I have seen no parallel. Mathews related his trip to Paris, depicted the various characters he met with,