During the Doctor’s address the persons in uniform kept up an incessant clamour, the most outrageous expressions being used, such as:—“A democratical scoundrel that deserves to be hanged,”—“A democrat, a democrat, a d—d democrat,”—“Out with the democrat,—no democrats,” the expressions being lavishly interlarded with scoundrel and rascal, and the interjections Bah! Boo! Boh! One of the party exclaimed, “No speech,—that won’t do,—he ought to be hanged,—out with him;” while another suggested personal violence before the offender should be allowed to depart. A grim, gaunt figure vociferated, “Irons,—irons, here: he ought to be put in irons directly.” All, however, was _vox et preterea nil_, notwithstanding one, very much out of breath with hooting and yelling, crying out “Go directly,—you must go;” whilst from behind resounded the cry “Out with him,—a democrat, a democrat, a democrat,—no democrat, a d—d democrat.” Eventually the Doctor and his party were allowed to depart unmolested, though during the time he was separated from his family in the lobby, a tall officer, when Mrs. Knox was turning back to look for her daughter, violently pushed her by the shoulder, and bade her “go along after her husband, and be d—d.” One, somewhat ashamed of his companions’ behaviour, however, assured her that no violence should be used, and added,—“He should not have come amongst us. Had he stuck to peace we should all have admired him.” Another, nodding his terrific plumes, exclaimed, “It is well his wife and children are with him, or else, &c., &c.” The son happening to cry “Shame upon you!—near twenty to one,” one of the valiant party shook him violently, saying at the same time, “Who are you, you dog? You ought to be hanged as well as your father,—if it is your father: and all such as hold his democratical principles, you dog, you!” The Doctor avers that though the world had been told that they were a parcel of drunken boys who committed the outrage, the ringleaders were veterans in age, if not in service; and he adds:—“Very few were my hearers in the church, the major part being wholly influenced by the false representations of gossips.” On Wednesday, the 21st of August, Dr. Knox and his family having occupied Mr. Grantham’s house, in North Street, a month, the period for which it was engaged, left Brighton; and soon some of the newspapers teemed with magnified accounts of a mutiny having broken out in the Brighton Camp through the Doctor’s democratical sermon. The most virulent was the _True Briton_. He also received numerous insulting and threatening letters; and one silly epistle, dated Wick Camp, near Brighton, enclosed a painted bloody hand. The _World_, of August 27th, 1793, declares the treatment which the Doctor and his family received to be most unjustifiable.