"Bravo, Winchilsea!" and waved their hats, as with the lungs of Stentor, with the gesture of a pugilist, and the frenzy of a fanatic, he proceeded. Although utterly destitute of idea, and though scarcely one distinct notion, perhaps, could be detected in his speech, yet Lord Winchilsea, by the energy of his action, and the impetuosity of his manner, and the strong evidences of rude sincerity about him, made an impression upon his auditors far greater than the cold didactic manner of Lord Camden or Lord Darnley was calculated to produce.

There can be no greater mistake than the supposition that the English people are not fond of ardent speaking, and of a vehement rhetorical enunciation. Lord Winchilsea is perfectly denuded of knowledge, reflection, or command of phrase; yet by dint of strong feeling he contrives to awaken a sympathy which a colder speaker, with all the graces of eloquence, could never attain. He seems to be in downright earnest; and although his personal vanity may be an ingredient in his sincerity, it is certain, whatever be the cause, that his ardor and vehemence are far more powerful auxiliaries to his cause, than the contemplative philosophy of the Whigs, who, conteuted with their cold integrity of purpose, adopted no efficient means to bring their tenants to the field, and encounter their opponents with the weapons which were so powerfully wielded against them.

After having whirled himself round, and having beaten his breast and bellowed for about half an hour, Lord Winchilsea sat down in the midst of the constitutional acclamations of the Brunswickers; and Mr. Sheil, and Mr. Shea, an English Catholic gentleman, both presented themselves to the Sheriff. The Sheriff gave a preference to Mr. Shea, who made a bold and manly speech, but was interrupted by the continued hootings of the Protestant party. The only fault committed by Mr. Shea was, that he dwelt too long on the pure blood of the English Catholics a topic of which they are naturally but a little tediously fond: it were to be desired that this old blood of theirs did not stagnate so much in their veins, and beat a little more rapidly in its circulation. With their immense fortunes, and a little more exertion, what might they not accom

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plish in influencing the public mind? Excellent men in private life, they are not sufficiently ardent for politicians, and should remember that their liberty may be almost bought, and that two or three thousand pounds well applied might have turned the Kent meeting.

Mr. Shea having concluded, Lord Teynham rose; and Mr. Sheil, at the Sheriff's request, gave way to him. Lord Teynham had been a Roman Catholic.* His name is Roper, and, I believe, he is descended from Mrs. Roper, the daughter of Sir Thomas More. He was assailed with reproaches for his apostasy by the Protestants; and, though he made a very good speech, it was neutralized in its effect by his desertion of his former creed. So universal (however unjust, perhaps) is the antipathy to a renegade, that among the Brunswickers themselves, his having ceased to be a Catholic rendered him an object of scorn. "That fellow's a-going to shift his religion again!"—"Oh, my Lord, there's a man here as says that what your Lordship's saying is all a d-d Popish lie!" and other ejaculations of the same character warned my Lord Teynham that his change of creeds had not rendered him more acceptable to his audience.

Lord Teynham having sat down amid the Brunswick groans, Mr. Sheil rose among them. He was vehemently applauded on the right, and as furiously howled at from the left. "Down with him, the traitor!"-"Down with the rebel!"-"Apologize for what you said of the Duke of York!"—"Send him and O'Connell to the Tower!"-"He got his freehold last night in Maidstone !"—"Down with him!"—" Off, Sheil, off!” We're not the Clare freeholders!"-" See how the viper spits!"- "How the little hanimal foams at the mouth! take care of him, he'll bite you!"—"Off, Sheil, off!" were the greetings with which this gentleman was hailed by the Brunswickers, while his own party cried ont, "Fair play !” —“ Oh, you cowards, you are afraid to hear him!"

Of what Mr. Sheil actually said, it was impossible to give any account; and the miraculous power by which "The Sun"

*

Henry Francis Roper, fourteenth Lord Teynham, born 1760, died 1842. His estate in Kent was called Liasted Lodge.-M.

newspaper of that night contrived to publish his oration in three columns, must be referred to some Hohenloe's interposition in favor of that journal. I heard but one sentence, which I afterward recognised in print, as having been spoken: "See to what conclusion you must arrive, when you denounce the advocates of Emancipation as the enemies of their country. How far will your anathema reach? It will take in one half of Westminster Abbey; and is not the very dust, into which the tongues and hearts of Pitt, and Burke, and Fox, have mouldered, better than the living hearts and tongues of those who have survived them? If you were to try the question by the authorities of the illustrious dead, and by those voices which may be said to issue from the grave, how would you determine? If, instead of counting votes in St. Stephen's Chapel, you were to count monuments in the mausoleum beside it, how would the division of the great departed stand? Enter the aisles which contain the ashes of your greatest legislators. and ask yourselves as you pass how they felt and spoke, when they had utterance and emotion, in that senate where they are heard no more: write Emancipatior' upon the tomb of every advocate, and its counter-epitaph on that of every opponent of the peace of Ireland, and shall we not have a majority of sepulchres in our favor?" With this exception, I do not think that the Irish demagogue uttered one word of what appeared in the shape of an elaborate essay in the newspapers."

After having stamped, and fretted, and entreated, and menaced the Brunswickers for half an hour, during which he sustained a continued volley of execrations, Mr. Sheil thought it prudent to retreat, and was succeeded by Mr. Larkin, an auetioneer from Rochester, who delivered a very clever speech in favor of radicalism, but had the prudence to keep clear of Emancipation. His occupation afforded a fine scope for Brunswick wit. "Knock him down-going, going, gone!" and similar reminiscences, exhibited the aristocracy of the mob. Mr. Larkin was not at all disturbed, but, with an almost unparalleled sang-froid, drew a flask from his pocket, and refreshed himself for the next sentence, when the uproar was at its height.

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When he had finished, Sir Edward Knatchbull, the member or the county, and Cobbett, who had been railing for hours at he long speeches, got up together. The Sheriff preferred Sir Edward, upon which Cobbett got into a fit of vehement indignation. He accused the Sheriff of gross partiality, and, while Sir Edward Knatchbull was going on, shook his hand repeatedly at him, and exhibited the utmost savageneness of demeanor and of aspect. His face became inflamed with rage, and his mouth was contorted into a ferocious grin. He grasped a large pole, with a placard at the head of it in favor of Liberty, and, standing with this apparatus of popularity, which assisted him in supporting himself at the verge of the wagon, he hurled out his denunciations against the Sheriff. The Brunswickers roared at him, and showered contumely of all kinds upon his head, but with an undaunted spirit he persevered. Sir Edward Knatchbull was but indistinctly heard in the tumult which his own party had got up to put Cobbett down. He seems a proud, obstinate, dogged sort of Squire, with an infinite notion of his own importance as an English county member, and a corresponding contempt for seven millions of his fellow-citizens. He has in his face and bearing many of the disagreeable qualities of John Bullism, without any of its frankness and plain dealing. He is rude without being honest, and offensive without being sincere.* Cobbett was almost justified in complaining that such a man should be preferred to him.

When he had terminated a speech, in which it was evident that he was thinking of the next election, at which the Deerings intended to dispute the county with him, Cobbett was allowed by the Sheriff to proceed. His hilarity was restored for a little while, and holding out his petition against tithes, he set about abusing both parties. In a letter published in the Morning Herald, he takes care, in his account of the meet

*Sir Edward Knatchbull, of Mersham Hatch, Kent (which his family have owned since the time of Henry II.), was born in 1781, and succeeded to the title in 1819. He eventually abandoned much of his intolerance, was Paymas ter of the Forces, in Peel's last Ministry, and continued comparatively liberal until his death.-M.

ing, to record the opprobrious language applied by the mult tude to others; but he omits all mention of what was said of himself. "Down with the old Bone-grubber!”—“Roast hin on his gridiron ;”—“D―n him and his Indian corn;” were shouted from all quarters. He was not, however, much dis composed at first, for he was confident of carrying his petition, and retorted with a good deal of force and some good humor on those who were inveighing against him. "You cry out too weakly, my bucks!" said he, snapping his fingers at them. "You cry like women in the family-way. There's a rascal there, that is squeaking at me, like a parson's tithe-pig."

These sallies amused everybody; but still the roar against him continued, and I was astonished to see what little induence he had with even the lower orders by whom he was surrounded. The Catholic party looked upon him as an enemy, who came to divide them, and the Brunswickers treated him with mingled execrations and scorn. At length he perceived that the day was going against him, and his eyes opened to his own want of power over the people. Though he afterward vaunted that the great majority were with him, he ap peared not to have above a dozen or two to support his prope sition, and when he sat down, evident symptoms of mortification and of rage against all parties appeared in his countenance. Altogether, he acquitted himself as badly as can be well imagined; and it seems to me as clear that he is a most inefficient and powerless speaker, as that he is a great and vigorous writer.

Hunt got up to second him, and was received almost as badly as his predecessor, though his conduct and manner were quite opposite, and he did everything he could, by gentleness and persuasiveness, to allay the fury of the Brunswick party, But, after he had begun, Sir Edward Knatchbull interrupted him in a most improper and offensive manner, which induced Lord Radnor to stand up and reprobate Sir Edward's conduct as a most gross violation of decorum. Mr. Hunt went on; but, whatever may be his sway with public assemblies on other occasions, he certainly showed few evidences of omnipotence upon this. He seemed to be crest-fallen, and to have quailed