of attacks upon his former benefactor, and in particular, to a resolution of a Reform Club to which he belonged, that it was contrary to the rights of Englishmen, for any man to discharge another from his employ on account of a difference of opinion.

The arguments by which this was supported, though wormwood to my good host, were to me amusing; for they were all reported in the reform county papers, and a Whig senate could hardly have put them better. "The king," it was said,

"could not dismiss an officer for his vote in Parliament; why, then, should a mere squire be entrusted with the powers of dismissing his steward for an opinion?" I say entrusted," said the speaker, (who was an attorney's clerk in the neighbouring borough in question) "because, as the crown is held by the king only in trust for the people, so are all estates by their apparent owners, in trust for those who are to benefit by the expenditure of their revenues, and, of course, those who are employed in their management. These, therefore, cannot be removed, except by their own consent."

At this eminent discovery there was a universal bravo, with the exception of a brother clerk, who, it seems, generally opposed the last speaker.

This rival (whether because he was so, or looked rather further into the mill-stone,) desired them, before they adopted the argument, to be sure of

VOL. II.

"their fact," which, it appears, was a favourite, and sometimes to others, an unpalatable phrase of his. He said, though the king might not dismiss military officers for parliamentary votes, because such votes were not military offences, yet he might decline employing them, which was all that was done in this case; and that, in regard to government officers, he dismissed whom he liked. Then, taking out a somewhat soiled Whig newspaper, which, with rather provoking care, he had treasured up to serve a purpose like the present, he read a long energetic leading article, to the effect of calling upon the reform ministry to dismiss, without delay, certain great officers, both military and civil, such as commanders-in-chief, governors, and constables of places, lord-lieutenants of counties, lords of the bed-chamber, &c. &c., because of their votes in Parliament.

At this there was a universal groan, which drowned the voice of the orator; who, by way of answer, was convicted of an attempt to disturb the harmony of the club, which finally ended in his expulsion from it, as unworthy of a seat among true patriots.

This, too, was supported by precedents, we must not say among their superiors, but their fellowlabourers, among the lords and gentlemen reformers in Ireland, who, though they mustered thousands

strong, in meetings called by themselves for their own political views, went through the farce of a protest, signed by peers and commoners, asserting that Ireland was so quiet that, to allow any meeting on the other side to express different opinions, would only endanger the public tranquillity.

Think you, my grave friend and reformer, Strickland, that I have not been amused at the absurdity of this same protest? I say amused, because, as I have told you, I have taken my leave of being distressed by any thing public men can do, on either side. At any rate, can we blame our Yorkshire village politicians for thus expelling a brother who is so unreasonable as to disagree with them, when they have such illustrious examples before them as the Dukes, Lords, and Commoners who have signed this admirable protest? Never was my nil admirari so tried, or so triumphant.

All this, however, is the very reverse with my friend Oldacre. He has been fretting and fuming ever since he dismissed Watkins. "The rascal ! the ingrate! the hypocrite! the liar! And yet the wretch will be ruined; and what will his poor family do? I could put him in gaol, but I wo'n't: and this the villain knows!"

"Take him back," said I. "Ey-what ?" cried he.

"I think you will,” said I.

"I'll be d-d if I do," answered he.

Nor would he. But he watched behind a hedge, while his own carts, which he lent to move Watkins' goods, drove away from the Steward's house; at which he was much agitated; and afterwards, Mrs. Watkins having begged to see him, he was closeted with her an hour, and tears were observed in both their eyes when she left the study.

These things are now my subjects of interest, and I hope they will make you like this letter better than my last.

Adieu! Not the least subject for the nil admirari, is my still continuing to esteem such a strange medley of practical sense and theoretical nonsense as you. I trust I shall improve, and drop you in time. At present I am afraid I am still

Yours,

WALTER FITZWALTER.

LETTER IV.

THE ANSWER.

I GIVE up my regret at the strange freak you have taken, since it has led to such letters as you write me. Nothing can be more amusing, or more interesting, than old Oldacre and his Watkins; to say nothing of your club of reformers, whom I hope you do not praise ironically, for they are quite as good as any we have here, whether at the Rotunda, Crown and Anchor, or White Conduit ' House, M.P.'s included. Don't shew me up, however, for saying so, or I shall never be Solicitorgeneral.

I beseech you continue your travels and portraits. They will instruct me in what we lawyers think we know very well-human nature-a great mistake; unless it be the rogue and vagabond part of it. I can send you plenty of these in return, nay, some reformers too, which might make excellent side-dishes, or even substantial top and bottom But you shine also in the game, and wild

covers.