THE "Spectator" has observed, that every reader involuntarily figures to himself some likeness of the man whose writings he may be perusing. Addison's sentiment, generally speaking, undoubtedly holds good. It is the more especially true as regards a writer who may command by his manner or attract by his abilities no inconsiderable share of public conversation or attention. Such is the case, for instance, with Mr. Cobbett. He has long been before the public eye. He has been, and continues to be, a voluminous writer, engaging undauntedly in the discussion of any question whether it be the fate of an empire or the value of the potato -the conduct of the French or the excellence of "Swedes ;" and though he may not have won upon the world's affections, he has wrung all who know any thing about him or his writings, the admission that "Mr. Cobbett is unquestionably an extraordinary man.' Thousands wish to know something about him; thousands like to read what he may write; and yet no body of men in the state no party-rely upon him or his opinions. On his support they cannot calculate for a week; if they were, a thousand to one but the next Register would make them repent their confidence. Like the nobleman mentioned in Junius's Letters, "his friendship is ruin." Mr. Cobbelt, in

from

two words wants Public Character, He has "a giant's strength ;" and yet in the world of politics he is no giant.

As a political writer-always examining one Register by itself, never placing by its side any succeeding or preceding Register on the same subject he shows himself at once able, ready, strong, and triumphant. He is equally full of energy, and of reasons for his pro tempore opinions. With vigour of frame and intellect which no labours can tire; with sagacious and cunning industry that can with ease and delight unravel the dullest or the most difficult details, and strip weaknesses in argument, so that they are made to tremble under the castigation given or threatened them; he grapples and wages war with all subjects with spirit that never seems to be weary, with clearness, and frequently strength of language that are manifest to all, and a rough eloquence of mind that has made the ablest stand aghast. These qualities were conspicuous in his examinations of "Mr. Scarlett's Poor Bill," the "Agricultural_Report ;" and his contest with Mr. Brougham, in the Court of King's Bench, in Cleary's case. But in the same Court only a few days afterwards, in Wright's case, he was worsted by Mr. Scarlett-Mr. S. denounced him as a

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savage." "A savage! do you say?" exclaimed Mr. Cobbett, evi

dently wounded to the quick. "Yes! a savage, and only fit with savages to live." It was the hardest and the most successful blow Mr. Cobbett ever received in his whole life; like his own sledge-hammer blows and Farmer grips, it was merciless and unsparing; and throughout the day he was utterly unable to rally.

But perhaps nothing contributes so much to the transient success of Mr. Cobbett-that is, to carry along with him the attention and mind of his reader-as the plain, simple, homely style of the writer and the earnestness of the man; and withal, his finished sophistry, in its unsuspected attire, by means of which powers he can make "the worse appear the better cause." Yet his sophistry is not that of the schoolsthat he would scorn; it is a sophistry of his own. He will assume certain plausible facts; he will argue on them as if they were admitted principles; and he covers all with unlimitedly expressed anxiety about the public weal, and more particularly the "class" from which he glories in having sprung. His greatest enemy is his temper. Mr. Cobbett's temper has deprived him of political strength. Towering far above his own classseeing that as far as they are concerned, it is but for him to wield the thunderbolt and for them to yield,— elsewhere he can brook no controul. Successfully to have entered the lists with him, or to baffle him, is to achieve a superiority which he will attribute to " influence," to "corruption," to 66 oppression" alone. Bow before him, and he will cherish you; deny the omnipotence of his sway, and all the powers of his mind, with dreadful fury, will be directed to crush the "heretic." Herein he is a Catholic; herein his principles are those of the Inquisition. It was his temper that made him declare he would give "Parson Cunningham what should stick by him while he lived" it was his temper that made him declare the letter which he had written about Hunt to be a forgery; it was his temper that made him, in

an iron frame of mind that was truly appalling, place his own son in the witness-box on Wright's trial; and it was that same temper which induced him, with such utter regardlessness to character-when hampered and overwhelmed with quotations from his own Registers, on the subjects of "Prices" and "Peel's Bill," and the "Gridiron," to plunge about and declare that "Extracts were made from his writings that were not to be found in his writings." He was dared to the proof, but he was silent, and proceeded on his way.

His courage too-that is, his moral courage-will not bear the test. In the hour of trial, in the moment of danger, all nerve forsakes him. When prosecuted by the Government for the libel on the soldiers of Ely, he maudlinly complained of the "taste" of his own writing, and produced Gilray's caricatures of him to show how he had been slandered and libelled; to all which the Attorney-General (Gibbs) briefly, cuttingly, coolly, replied, that perhaps Mr. Cobbett on such points had not been “ more sinned against than sinning." But, previously to that trial, he offered to compromise with the Government, to sacrifice the Register; and when he was sentenced to, and arrived at Newgate, not merely all his courage, but all the man forsook him. Again, when that storm thickened, in 1817, which he had been so instrumental in promoting, by his cheap" publications, selling at that time seventy and eighty thousand twopenny Registers each week; and when the Ministers began to prepare themselves to meet the tempest, by strengthening themselves with six Acts" he who ought to have been the Palinurus of the occasion, sought safety in flight! This is not the language of ill-nature. The early portions of this article will make any such charge fall pointless to the ground; and if it be preferred by Mr. Cobbett himself, he may be answered out of his last Register but one: "Whoever strikes in answer to an argument, is sure to be in fault."

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The " arguments" from the facts

here stated are obvious. "Write for a hundred years, rail till the day of eternity, explain and split hairs with all the jabbering and all the cunning of a Jew (to quote Mr. C.'s own language), and at the last you will find, that these things, these facts, this public conduct," explain why Mr. Cobbett has, in reality no influence with, no weight in the country.

tion applies to the daughters as well as to the sons; and there is not one that is not skilful at the pen as well as with books-so that any one of them is ready to write at the father's dictation. This once led Mr. Cobbett to exclaim that "he spoke Registers, he did not write them;" and such fact may account for the ease with which he can get through vast quantities of writing, for the untired energy which equally characterizes the last and the first sentences of his Registers. There is nothing about the composition that ever looks like weariness or haste; he seems always ready to proceed further; want of space only appears to occasion the close. This is one great reason why the Registers, to the "million," more particularly, read so well. A prosy, dull, and unenergetic speaker before a crowd, however profound and extensive may be the resources of his mind, soon ceases to be listened to; while the man who appears alive to the cause, who identifies himself and all his hopes with their interests and welfare, and who has good language, though his mental resources be very humble, shall have implicit attention as well as unqualified applause. But where there is vast strength of mind, amazing resources, and a memory that seems never to suffer that to be forgotten which ought to be remembered; where such accumulated merit is aided by activity and energy that appear to know no sleep, it is not surprising that he can always command the attention of those readers (and Mr. Cobbett has many such readers) who dislike the man.

As a domestic man, however, there is every thing to admire in Mr. Cobbett. Careful in his own mode of living, indulging in no excesses, preferring even milk and water to beer; he at once regards his own health and sets a good example to all the house. When nine o'clock comes, he begins to think of bed; but then in the summer he rises with the lark, and is as cheerful too, and in the winter he will be up by daylight, at his desk or looking to the cattle. He is a great man for a garden; not a little bit of garden, with nice gravel-walks, in front of the house; but a garden consisting of at least an acre, and three or four acres of pasture. Such is the extent of his garden-ground, and meadow for the cow, horse, &c. behind Mr. C.'s present residence at Kensington. Besides the garden, there is, in fact, a little farm-yard ;and in. such grounds may be found proofs, if Mr. Cobbett's books on such subjects did not afford them, of the skill and delight he evinces in rural affairs. To judge from what may there be seen, it might be supposed that such affairs had occupied the whole of Mr. Cobbett's life and studies; indeed, the heart of the man -arguing from what may there be seen, from his " Cottage Economy," (an incontestably valuable work), his Treatise on Gardening," and parts of his "Year's Residence in America," -it might be concluded, had been wholly and entirely wedded to rural life. The family also display the effects of Mr. C.'s instruction and example. They are active and meat; highly respectable in their demeanour; and presenting steady and intelligent countenances. This descrip

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As to the person of Mr. Cobbett, he partakes of those peculiarities which the imagination of every reader might be supposed to form from a contemplation of his writings. More of the old English farmer than the author-more of the stubborn frame that sets itself up against the Government, than of the individual who desired to be praised on account of fine compositions-more of the rough and hardy, and hard-mouthed individual who would quarrel and

fight, and pull down whatever other men had raised up, than of the man who would smoothly talk and quietly write in a "study." That is the picture of Mr. Cobbett's person; in his writings you see the man. He is of good stature, of robust frame, with a round face, ruddy complexion -the farmer's ruddiness-small piercing eyes, and white hair. With his plain coat, old-fashioned doublebreasted waistcoat, and solid topboots, with straps on both sides, as they used to wear them forty years ago, his whole appearance is that of a sturdy and staunch yeoman of the tough old English and Roast-beef School. His step is firm, the general gait carrying with it the mixture of defiance and independence, as if those limbs bore the " lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,' When he got upon the tables at the Crown and Anchor, for instance, after his return from *America, and at the Mechanic's Institute," the firmness of his tread made them shake again beneath him. His countenance is decidedly manly but somewhat spoiled by the smallness of his eyes, and it displays great strength of mind, with hawk-like shrewdness. He is evidently a decidedly thinking man-a man whose thoughts are always at work, comparing, answering, exposing, or castigating; indeed, his Registers appear to be so many series of reasonings, doubtlessly being frequently commenced without knowing how they shall end, or what principles they shall enforce, and hence the inconsistencies that are to be found in Mr. Cobbett's writings. Perhaps, that which would most disappoint the physiognomist in contemplating the person of Mr. Cobbett, would be his laugh it is the silliest laugh that the world ever saw or heard. When applauded at the meetings already named, Mr. C. appeared not to know what to do with himself, and so he laughed, but it was that sort of laugh which comes upon the boobyschoolboy's face, when he finds himself cheered, soothed, and flattered, unexpectedly, in fine company, to

which he had been wholly unaccus tomed. The applause, however, being over, Mr. C. was at ease, and himself again; the silly, unmeaning smile disappeared, and with masculine, full, deep-toned voice, corresponding admirably to the firmness and manliness of his frame and demeanour, he proceeds to address an assembly as collectedly as if he were dictating a letter to his "Son William."

To recapitulate any of the points that have been urged, as illustrative of the character of Mr. Cobbett, it is to be hoped is useless. If they are not already clear, no recapitulation or explanation would make them clearer. Long and attentive observation of the man and his writings dictated what is here put down. As to the merit that may characterize the sketch, the writer will say nothing, but he feels that the honesty which has guided his pen cannot be successfully questioned. He is not Mr. Cobbett's enemy.

THE following curious incident rela. tive to a member of this family (who were peasants of Staffordshire, and by their unshaken fidelity preserved Charles II. after the Battle of Worcester), is but little known. It is related in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for 1732, under the date of February 26:

"An Issue was tried at the Court of King's Bench, at Guildhall, directed out of Chancery, wherein a minor sued for an estate of one hundred pounds per annum, as son and heir to Mr. Penderel, deceased (which estate was settled on the family for preserving King Charles 11. in the Oak); but it was proved that Mr. H. Penderel, a few days after marrying the mother of the plaintiff, retired into Staffordshire for two years