trouble to CANVASS Tiverton in person," said a Liverpool elector; "and more than this, he has taken down his lady to see Mrs. Quick, the mayor's wife, and Dr. Kettle, his friend Heathcote's mover—as also Mr. Black Hole, his lordship's crony; but he does not shew himself at Liverpool, the second commercial city in the kingdom. How is this? We are told that his lordship represents large and liberal principles; then why go to such a little place as Tiverton? We are told that he is the representative of the foreign interests of the country, and that the merchants of this city are deeply indebted to him for the care he has shewn, and the attention he has displayed to them and to their interests. Then how happens it that Lord Palmerston has staid away from this northern metropolis? Why have his large principles only addressed themselves to little Tiverton, whilst Lord Sandon, with his dear loaf,' has faced the manufacturing, shipping, and commercial population of this powerful and populous city? The Whig principles and conduct are to me inexplicable. They are confusion worse confounded!"

"How is it that Lord John Russell was elected at all, even at the fagend of the city of London poll?" asked a London Liveryman, "when he imprisoned our sheriffs, and declared, in his Essay on the English Government, that the population of large cities were the worst of all people to whom to entrust the elective franchise? There is something in this return very much like confusion worse confounded.'

"Won't you give your vote to your QUEEN?" asked a medical canvasser at Windsor.

“I did not know the Queen's place was to let,” replied the voter.

"No; but her candidates for this borough represent herself and her opinions here, and she is ill with anxiety."

"This is a very unconstitutional mode of proceeding, doctor. I knew the time when the Whigs were always on the qui vive the moment the name of the king was introduced into a debate, or as being favourable to any measure; and the invariable language of such men as Tierney was, As the king can do no wrong, so the king can use no influence.''

"That was before the Reform-bill,” replied the canvasser.

Then has the Reform-bill changed the nature of a constitutional monarchy?"

"No; but it has rendered it much more difficult to obtain a fixed and decisive majority for a ministry."

"And is the Queen's name to be used to obtain that majority? If so -then the Constitutional monarchy is destroyed, and we have only one that is ABSOLUTE. There is in this state of things' confusion worse confounded."

"We live in strange times," said a Dover elector, who had been present as well at the Rochester election as at that in his own town; "the Quakers, who will not pay wartaxes, who formerly refused to mix up in any worldly associations, who establish peace societies, who give out that their religion is purely spiritual, and that their views are all pacific, are distinguishing themselves by rabid politics, and by fierce opposition to the established institutions of the country. At Rochester, Mr. Wheeler, a most vociferous and vituperative young Quaker, who seconded the Radical Dashwood, launched out into a wanton attack on the Liturgy of the Church of England, masked by a virulence which disgusted all moderate people. And at Dover old raved, foamed, and scolded for an hour, to the annoyance of good men, and the disgrace of his party. The Quakers throughout the country are assuming a new attitude. They are joining the Radical portion of political Dissenters! The concessions which were made to Quakers in the reigns of George III. and IV. were so made in consideration of the anti-political character of the body; but Joseph Pease, the ejected from Hull, led the way in their new career of political agitation. Their present state, as a body, is one of 'confusion worse confounded!"

At Nottingham the electors, under the influence of Whig gold, have stultified themselves, and declared in May, when they were not paid, that the Whig government was hateful; and in July, when they were paid, that it was not so. Bribery, bribery, from the Whig proposers of an Anti-Bribery Bill! John Cam Hob

house, the Whig minister, has beaten with 30,000l. an honest Tory candidate who would not bribe or intimidate. Yet the toast of the Whigs is "Civil and Religious Liberty all the world over." What a strange medley, and what a fearful state of "confusion worse confounded!"

The Liberal anti-bribery candidates at SUDBURY paid 100l. each for the last fifteen votes in that immaculate borough. Yet the Liberals complain of bribery, and bring in bills to suppress it! "Confusion worse confounded!"

The Whigs boast that theirs are the popular principles, and yet they have been beaten in nearly all the popular constituencies, and in the counties, by tens of thousands.

66

Confusion worse confounded!"

The Whigs vow that it is only the Tories who interfere with the votes of their tenants; and yet Lord Listowel wrote a letter to the exking, Dan, placing the votes of his tenantry in Ireland, like so many bullocks, at the Agitator's disposal. "Confusion worse confounded!"

The Whigs insist that they are the enemies to exclusive dealing, and yet Lord Uxbridge sent round Mr. Donaldson to demand the votes of the most respectable of the Windsor Castle tradesmen. "Confusion worse confounded!"

The Whigs insist that, after all, they are the best friends of the Church; and yet Mr. Macaulay declared at Edinburgh that "he had opposed the proposition of Sir Robert Inglis to extend the Church of England at the public expense, and should continue to oppose it." "Confusion worse confounded!"

"Who is that man crying 'cheap bread' at the top of his voice ? asked a Cambridge gownsman of a Cambridge elector.

"It is the miller. He is a leading Reformer, and an out-andout clamourer for cheap bread." But this is his history:-He has got into his power all the corn-mills, and acquired possession of nearly all the bakers' shops. At St. Ives bread is always cheap, because there is competition; but here, if any one

irresistible opposition of that monopolist. And this is one of the men who cry cheap bread!'"

"Confusion worse confounded!” replied the gownsman. "When those who affect to cry against monopolies are the monopolists themselves, there is no security for life, property, or reputation, since there's an end of all principle."

The want of Tory candidates for many boroughs, cities, towns, and counties, in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, where a Tory and a Whig have been returned instead of two Tories, in consequence of a third candidate not coming forward, has been the subject of general surprise and complaint. To see the same electors voting for black and white, blue and orange, purple and blue, and returning one candidate to support that hollow, tricky cry of "We want a Cheap Loaf," and the other to uphold our "Protestant Institutions, Church Extension, and our Agricultural and Conservative Interests," has frequently brought the blush of shame on the cheeks of Conservative electors and candidates, and led very often to the cry of "This is confusion worse confounded!"

Some specimens of these " confusing and confounding elections we cannot avoid recording :

NORWICH,

The Marquess of Douro, eldest son of the Duke of Wellington!

Mr. B. Smith, a Whig-Radical!

BURY ST. EDMUND'S.

Earl Jermyn, eldest son of the Marquess of Bristol !

Lord Charles Fitzroy, who said, "I will give my voice for reform."

EXETER.

Sir William Follett, an out-and-out Conservative.

Mr. Divett, a zealous Reformer.

YORK.

John Henry Lowther, Esq., son of Sir John Lowther. Tory to the backbone. Mr. H. R. Yorke, a Whig-Radical.

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE.

J. H. Hodgson, Esq., of a very ancient Northumberland family. A true Conservative.

Mr. Wm. Ord, who declared " that his principles were those of a thorough Reformer."

DURHAM (CITY).

Captain Fitzroy, a Conservative.
Mr. Granger, a Whig-Radical.

We could extend the list through many pages; could shew by figures in how many places where one Conservative and one Whig-Radical are returned, the third candidate had within a dozen votes of the Whig who succeeded, and might have been returned if there had not been in the electors a state of mind well expressed by the phrase "confusion worse confounded." In other places, a third candidate, being a Tory, would have been immediately returned if he had but appeared. In other places the Tory candidate appeared a few days too late in the field. All these mistakes proceeded from the same cause,—a confusion as to the duty of opposing Radicalism every where, and a confounding of false liberality with inattention to political duties. Forty elections have been lost in English boroughs, cities, and counties, from three causes:-First, no Conservative candidate coming forward; second, coming forward too late; and, third, from the Conservative candidate, who was sure of his seat, not aiding a third Conservative candidate at all, or aiding him only when too late. "Confusion worse Confounded."

But, worst of all, what mean these Conservative disputes, after the battle has been nobly fought and fairly won? What means the British Critic, whose attacks on Sir Robert Peel have filled bad men with delight, and made good men sorrowful? The British Critic must know that to its pages the friends of our institutions turn, not

VOL. XXIV. NO. CXL.

to see their long-tried supporters attacked, but to read the cheer of satisfaction, and to join in the note of triumph. But, more than this, the British Critic must know, that the enemies of our Conservative Christian Protestantism rejoice with exceeding joy at any word of disparagement on the part of a Conservative writer, either of Conservative men or of Conservative measures; and that great is the encouragement they derive when they think they perceive divisions "in the camp of the enemy." Sir Robert Peel has effected more for Conservative principles than any man living. One fatal concession he made, indeed, to Irish agitation and to Papist clamour; but he made but one. He has now to stand upon the "Reform-bill" as a final measure for the whole empire, and on the Romish protection-bill of 1829 as the last concession to Papacy! So to stand will be no easy task. To enable him to do so, he must have the undivided support of the whole of the British and Irish Conservatives. Division in the camp would infallibly lead to defeat and destruction. If Sir Robert Peel be not perfect, at least he is an able, prudent, and skilful parliamentary leader. The last acts of his career, as leader of the Tory phalanx in the House of Commons, have shewn not only his wisdom, but his energy; and not only his talent, but his zeal. The Whigs, the Radicals, the "Whig- Radicals," and the Chartists, are in a state of frantic rage, and are at once confused and confounded;" but let those who love their country, its constitution, its national faith, its crown, its hereditary nobility, its representative form of government, its moral and enlightened population, its foreign influence, and its domestic greatness-its snowclad mountains, its noble hills, its grassy plains, its fertilising rivers, its blue and beauteous lakes, its fine extending forests, its honest men, and its virtuous and blessed women-remember that, at such a moment as this, to divide, disturb, fractionise, or enfeeble the Conservative party, would be an act of treachery or of treason, and would lead to a state of things which can only be depicted by the title of our article, Confusion worse confounded!"

66

P

THERE is some peculiar influence, which no doubt the reader has remarked in his own case, for it has been sung by ten thousand poets, or versifying persons, whose ideas you adopt, if perchance, as is barely possible, you have none of your own -there is, I say, a certain balmy influence in the spring-time, which brings a rush of fresh dancing blood into the veins of all nature, and causes it to wear a peculiarly festive and sporting look. Look at the old Sun,-how pale he was all the winter through! Some days he was so cold and wretched, he would not come out at all-he would not leave his bed till eight o'clock, and retired to rest, the old sluggard! at four; but, lo! comes May, and he is up at five-he feels, like the rest of Us, the delicious vernal influence, he is always walking abroad in the fresh air, and his jolly face lights up anew! Remark the trees; they have dragged through the shivering winter-time without so much as a rag to cover them, but about May they feel obligated to follow the mode, and come out in a new suit of green. The meadows, in like manner, appear invested with a variety of pretty spring fashions, not only covering their backs with a bran-new glossy suit, but sporting a world of little coquettish, ornamental gimcracks that are suited to the season. This one covers his robe with the most delicate twinkling white daisies; that tricks himself out with numberless golden cowslips, or decorates his bosom with a bunch of dusky violets. Birds sing and make love; bees wake and make honey; horses and men leave off their shaggy winter clothing, and turn out in fresh coats. The only animal that does not feel the power of spring is that selfish, silent, and cold-blooded beast, the oyster, who shuts himself up for the best months of the year, and with whom the climate disagrees.

Some people have wondered how it is that what is called "the season" in London should not begin until spring. What an absurd subject for wondering at! How could the London season begin at any other time? How could the great, black, bilious, overgrown city, stifled by gas, and

fogs, and politics, ever hope to have a season at all, unless nature with a violent effort came to its aid about. Easter time, and infused into it a little spring-blood? The town of London feels then the influences of the spring, and salutes it after its fashion. The parks are green for about a couple of months; Lady Smigsmag, and other leaders of the ton, give their series of grand parties; Gunter and Grange come forward with iced-creams and champagnes ; ducks and green-pease burst out; the river Thames blossoms with whitebait; and Alderman Birch announces the arrival of fresh, lively turtle. If there are no birds to sing and make love, as in country places, at least there are coveys of opera-girls that frisk and hop about airily, and Rubini and Lablache to act as a couple of nightingales. "A lady of fashion remarked," says Dyson, in the Morning Post," that for all persons pretending to hold a position in genteel society "-I forget the exact words, but the sense of them remains indelibly engraven upon my mind-" for any one pretending to take a place in genteel society two things are indispensable. And what are these?

-a

BOUQUET AND AN EMBROIDERED

POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF." This is a self-evident truth. Dyson does not furnish the bouquets-he is not a market-gardener he is not the goddess Flora; but, a town-man, he knows what the season requires, and furnishes his contribution to it. The lilies of the field are not more white and graceful than his embroidered nose-ornaments, and, with a little eau des cent-milles fleurs, not more fragrant. Dyson knows that pockethandkerchiefs are necessary, and has "an express from Longchamps" to bring them over.

Whether they are picked from ladies' pockets by Dyson's couriers, who then hurry breathless across the Channel with them, no one need ask. But the gist of Dyson's advertisement, and of all the preceding remarks, is this great truth, which need not be carried out further by any illustrations from geography or natural history, that in the spring-time all nature renews itself. There is not a

country newspaper published in England that does not proclaim the same fact. Madame Hoggin informs the nobility and gentry of Penzance that her new and gigantic stock of Parisian fashions has just arrived from London. Mademoiselle M'Whirter begs to announce to the haut-ton in the environs of John-o'-Groats that she has this instant returned from Paris, with her dazzling and beautiful collection of spring fashions.

In common with the birds, the trees, the meadows in common with the Sun, with Dyson, with all nature, in fact, I yielded to the irresistible spring impulse-homo sum, nihil humani a me alienum, &c.—I acknowledged the influence of the season, and ordered a new coat, waistcoat, and trin short, a new suit. Now, having worn it for a few days, and studied the effect which it has upon the wearer, I thought that perhaps an essay upon new clothes and their influence might be attended with some profit both to the public and the writer.

One thing is certain. A man does not have a new suit of clothes every day; and another general proposition may be advanced, that a man in sporting a coat for the first time is either

agreeably affected, or disagreeably affected, or not affected at all,which latter case I don't believe. There is no man, however accustomed to new clothes, but must feel some sentiment of pride in assuming them-no philosopher, however calm, but must remark the change of raiment. Men consent to wear old clothes for ever-nay, feel a pang at parting with them for new; but the first appearance of a new garment is always attended with exultation.

Even the feeling of shyness, which makes a man ashamed of his splendour, is a proof of his high sense of it. What causes an individual to sneak about in corners and shady places, to avoid going out in new clothes of a Sunday, lest he be mistaken for a snob? Sometimes even to go the lengths of ordering his servant to powder his new coat with sand, or to wear it for a couple of days, and remove the gloss thereof? Are not these manœuvres proofs of the ef

fects of new coats upon mankind in general?

As this notice will occupy at least ten pages (for a reason that may be afterwards mentioned), I intend, like the great philosophers who have always sacrificed themselves for the public good, imbibing diseases, poisons, and medicines, submitting to operations, inhaling asphysifications, &c., in order that they might note in themselves the particular phenomena of the case-in like manner, I say, I intend to write this essay in five several coats, viz.

·-

1. My old single-breasted black frock-coat, with patches at the elbows, made to go into mourning for William IV.

2. My double-breasted green ditto, made last year but one, and still very good, but rather queer about the lining, and snowy in the seams.

3. My grand black dress-coat, made by Messrs. Sparding and Spohrer, of Conduit Street, in 1836. A little scouring and renovating have given it a stylish look even now; and it was always a splendid cut.

4. My worsted-net-jacket that my uncle Harry gave me on his departure for Italy. This jacket is wadded inside with a wool like that one makes Welsh wigs of; and though not handsome, amazing comfortable, with pockets all over.

5. MY NEW FROCK-COAT.

Now, will the reader be able to perceive any difference in the style of writing of each chapter? I fancy I see it myself clearly; and am convinced that the new frock-coat chapter will be infinitely more genteel, spruce, and glossy, than the woollenjacket chapter; which, again, shall be more comfortable than the poor, seedy, patched William-the-Fourth's black-frock chapter. The doublebreasted green one will be dashing, manly, free-and-easy; and though not fashionable, yet with a well-bred look. The grand black-dress chapter will be solemn and grave, devilish tight about the waist, abounding in bows and shrugs, and small talk; it will have a great odour of bohea and pound-cake; perhaps there will be a faint whiff of negus; and the tails will whisk up in a quadrille at the end, or sink down, mayhap, on a supper-table bench before a quantity of trifles, lobster-salads, and cham