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time and waste his spirits. He now returned home to prepare for the approaching trial at York; for in consequence of Mr. Hunt's urgency, an application had been made, and successfully, to remove the trial from Lancaster to York. The collection of evidence; other preparations; the pedestrian journey, or rather procession, to York; all the particulars of the trial itself, together with sundry most amusing episodes; the 'severe, though just, exposition,' given by The Times of the whole matter; these, together with an account of our author's anxieties concerning a third journey to London, where, in the ensuing Easter term, he was bound to receive his sentence; all now follow, literally copied, truthfully repeated, gravely or humorously described, according to the nature of the case, so as to combine the utility of history with the liveliness and piquancy of romance. His walk to London fills no fewer than nearly thirty pages; but we would not they had been reduced. To himself, at all events, his walk was more pleasurable than his entertainment in our great metropolis. For what with booksellers' laughing at his offered poems; Hunt's restricted and unsympathizing hospitality; the anxieties of destitution; the disappointment that followed an application to the Court of King's Bench for a new trial; the warning execution of Thistlewood and his companions; the suspense relating to his own punishment; disgust with the follies and vices of his colleagues; a very imperfect satisfaction with parts of his own conduct, particularly with a piece of senseless bravado in which he had indulged before the court; the sentence at last to twelvemonths' imprisonment in Lincoln gaol, in addition to other precautionary restrictions; and, finally, the absolute desertion of the party by all their London friends, and the vexations and insults received from those who had the charge of his person till he entered Lincoln Castle; London and Londoners must ever after, we imagine, have awakened in his breast the strongest feelings of nausea and repugnance.

Mr. Bamford's prison-life in Lincoln was diversified with many interesting incidents, recorded in his own engaging style. Extraordinary indulgences seem to have been allowed him; by some of his quondam friends, too, he was kindly and serviceably remembered; he maintained correspondence with Hunt-no serviceable friend, however—and with others; and, altogether, his year's confinement, embittered by no particular remorse, and not darkened by the lowering and degrading frown of a condemnatory public opinion, must have been, we should imagine, among the most tolerable portions of his service and endurance for his country. His walk from Lincoln homewards, in the company of his faithful, high-souled, and most admirable wife; a few particulars about his publishing pursuits, fit for a preface only, if at all; and a few concluding remarks 'on matters relative to the nation;' these occupy the remainder of the volumes : for as to the patched on chapter called 'An Afterthought,' and three other chapters thought of after this, we scarcely can conceive of them as Bamford's, and we earnestly entreat him to expunge them, or at least their main parts, from all future editions of his work. The man who has written more than five hundred closely printed pages of such sense and English as we are about to quote, has little need, and he should have too sound a judgment and too correct a taste, to publish the poor egotism and undigested fancies, which, almost without a mixture of superior matter, bore and afflict us in these last thirty pages. Lord Abinger's kind and calmly dignified letter, and Bamford's own not infelicitous, if not quite satisfactory, reply thereto-these, with notices of his lordship’s and of others' friendly services, are alone sufficient to restrain us from even much severer animadversions. But we gladly proceed in the fulfilment of our promise, to present our readers with a few specimens of Mr. Bamford's style. Most of the best passages are far too long for our space; and we feel that on no practicable principle of selection can we do full justice to Mr. Bamford's varied powers. We refer to the following paragraph, however, as a pretty fair indication of his skill in portraiture. The scene is the House of Commons, on a great occasion.

'Canning, with his smooth, bare, capacious forehead, sat there, a spirit beaming in his looks like that of the leopard waiting to spring upon its prey. Castlereagh, with his handsome but immoveable features; Burdett, with his head carried back, and held high, as in defiance ; and Brougham, with his Arab soul, ready to rush forth and challenge war to all comers. The question was to me solemnly interesting, whilst the spectacle wrought strangely on my feelings. Our accusers were many and powerful, with words at will, and applauding listeners. Our friends were few, and far between, with no applauders save their good conscience, and the blessings of the poor. What a scene was this to be enacted by the collective wisdom of the nation. Some of the members stood leaning against pillars, with their hats cocked awry; some were whispering by half dozens ; others were lolling upon their seats; some with arms a-kimbo were eye-glassing across the house; some were stiffened immoveably by pride, or starch, or both; one was speaking, or appeared to be so by the motion of his arms, which he shook in token of defiance when his voice was drowned by a howl as wild and remorseless as that from a kennel of hounds at feeding time. Now he points menacing to the ministerial benches; now he appeals to some members on this side, then to the speaker; all in vain. At times he is heard in the pauses

of that wild hubbub, but again he is borne down by the yell which awakes on all sides around him. Some talked aloud; some whinnied in mock laughter, coming, like that of the damned, from bitter hearts. Some called 'order, order,' some question, question ;' some beat time with the heel of their boots; some snorted into their napkins; and one old gentlemen in the side gallery actually coughed himself from a mock cough into a real one, and could not stop until he was almost black in the face. . . . . . The speaker alluded to was Henry Brougham. I heard at first very little of what he said ; but I understood, from occasional words, and the remarks of some whom I took for reporters, that he was violently attacking the ministers and their whole home policy. That he was so doing might have been inferred from the great exertions of the ministerial party to render him inaudible, and to subdue his spirit by a bewildering and contemptuous disapprobation. But they had before them a wrong one for being silenced, either by confusion or menace. Like a brave stag, he held them at bay, and even hurled back their defiance with

retorted scorn.' In some time his words became more audible ; presently there was comparative silence, and I soon understood that he had let go the ministry, and now, unaccountable as it seemed to me, had made a dead set at the reformers. Oh ! how he did scowl towards us, contemn and disparage our best actions, and wound our dearest feelings; now stealing near our hearts with words of wonderful power, flashing with bright wit and happy thought; anon, like a reckless wizard, changing pleasant sunbeams into clouds, 'rough with black winds and storms,' and vivid with the cruellest shafts. Then was he listened to as if not a pulse moved; then was he applauded to the very welkin. And he stood in the pride of his power, his foes before him subdued, but spared, his friends derided and disclaimed, and his former principles sacrificed to low ambition, and the vanity of such a display as this. . . . Every feeling was absorbed by the contemplation of that man whom I now considered to be the most perfidious of his race. I turned from the spectacle wiih disgust, and sought my lodgings in a kind of stupor ; almost believing that I had escaped from a monstrous dream... He sinned then, and has often done so since, against the best interests of his country ; bowing to his own image, and sacrificing reason and principle to caprice or offended self-love. But bas he not done much for mercy, and for the enlightenment of his kind ? See the African dancing above his chains! Behold the mild but irresistible light which education is diffusing over the land ! These are, indeed, blessings beyond all price ; rays of unfading glory. They are Lord Brougham's; and will illumine his tomb when his errors and imperfections are forgotten.--vol. i., pp. 26-29.

The following extract exhibits our author's extraordinary susceptibility and retentiveness of impression from external objects of even the least importance, joined with as singular an aptness in transferring his impressions to his readers' minds.

* Earl Grosvenor was the nobleman selected to present my petition to the House of Lords, and Sir Richard Phillips went with me to his mansion in Grosvenor Place, I think it was. His lordship was not at home, and we were directed to call on a certain day. It happened that Sir Richard was then engaged, and I went to his lordship myself. The great burly porter, who wore a rich livery trimmed with gold lace, would scarcely admit me within the door when he found I had not a letter of introduction. I explained to him my business with his lordship, but it was of no use; he could not send my message up. A fine table, with pens and paper, was near the window of the hall, and in my simplicity I made a move towards it, saying, I could soon write a note to his lordship: but he said he could not allow me to write there, it was contrary to orders, and would cost him his place if the other servants saw me. I accordingly bundled out, and went to a tavern, and wrote a note, which I took back ; the porter then took the note, and told me to come again in about twenty minutes, or half an hour. It was raining, and I had nowhere to go under cover save the tavern; so I went there again, not much liking, however, this mode of noble housekeeping, and waited, with impatience, the time for the interview. I again went, and now the folding doors were thrown open long before I arrived at the steps; the late surly porter received me with a respectful inclination and a smile, saying, my note had been sent up, and his lordship would see me. He then rang a bell, and a servant appeared, to whom he announced my name. The servant asked me to follow him, and he led me into a very grand room, saying, his lordship would be with me in a few minutes. I had never seen any thing like the richness of this place before ; every thing seemed almost too sumptuous, and too delicate for a human habitation; and to me it seemed a little museum of curious and costly things, arranged but to look at, and not to use. There were mirrors, and pictures, and cushions, and carpets, glowing like silk, and delicate hangings and curtains as fine as gossamer in summer ; then the tables shone like glass, and the chairs, with their high cushions trussed up, quite tempted one to sit. Well, I stood looking about me some time, and no one appeared, and at last I thought, I'll sit down, at any rate; if his lordship should come in, he cannot be so greatly offended at one taking a seat in his house. So I sat down, and was quite surprised ; I almost sank to my elbows in the soft downy cushion, and immedi. ately jumped up again, thinking those seats could never be meant for human bones to rest upon; and I would not, for the world, have been taken by his lordship sitting there, with the cushion up to my elbows like a puff of soap-suds. I began to make the thing right again ; and was so busied, when I heard a slight creaking noise. Immediately I resumed my posture of attention, and a tall gentlemanly-looking person, forty or forty-five years of age, dressed in a blue coat and yellow buttons, undoubtedly of gold, entered, and accosted me in a very courteous and affable manner, and immediately entered upon the business of my petition. I addressed him as ' my lord,' which, indeed, he was, and told him somewhat about the subject of my petition, which I now showed him, and requested he would be so kind as to present for me to the House of Lords. He looked at it a few minutes, and said he would present it. He then questioned me about the state of the country, and particularly of my own neighbourhood, to each of which I gave him brief and true answers, according to the best of my ability. He then questioned me about our new rector at Middleton, the Rev. John Houghton; and as I was bound in truth, though not at the time over partial to him, I gave his lordship a fair and honourable account of the worthy clergyman, whereat he seemed much pleased. Soon after, I made my final bow, and was myself bowed out by the porter; and so I took my leave of that grand mansion, and its immensely rich owner.' -vol. ii., pp. 42–44.

Of Mr. Bamford's good-tempered buoyancy of spirits, our readers may form some idea from the account of one of the practical jokes he perpetrated upon 'Doctor' Healey. The doctor was, certainly, the fairest game imaginable ; so almost intolerable were his obtrusive self-conceit and mischievous meddling. The occasion to which we refer was a rumoured attack upon Manchester. Whether the plot was a real one, or pretended only by the government agents, in order to entrap Bamford and others, was never made apparent; though the latter seems most probable. Neither Bamford's principles, however, nor his prudence, allowed him to sanction such a wild and wicked scheme. But before we quote his statement of what followed, we must beg our readers not to be dismayed by the dialect in which part of it is given ; but resolutely to grapple with this ancient Saxon, and to metamorphose it as they pass on, however slowly, into their own vernacular.

• It was deemed prudent that Healey and I should, on that night, sleep from home, and at some place where our stay could be proved, should anything arise to render such a step necessary. And none could tell what might be necessary; as in those days of alarm and uncertainty, no one knew what was impending. An old female reformer accordingly gave us her house and bed, and, turning the key, tocked us in ; whilst we, in our simplicity, were quite satisfied with having taken so wise a precaution against any false evidence which might by possibility be brought to connect us with the plot of which we had been apprized. We retired to rest, and lay talking this strange matter over until sleep overtook us. I was first to awake ; and seeing a brightness behind the curtain, I stepped to the window, and, sure enough, beheld in the southern sky a stream of light, which, I thought, must be that of a distant fire. It was a fine crisped morning; and, as I looked, a piece of a moon came wandering to the west from behind some masses of cloud. Now she would be entirely obscured; then streaks of her pale beams would be seen breaking on

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