“Prosperity Robinson,” _alias_ “Goosey Goderich,” soon to be Lord Ripon, “the dodo of the Reform party,” stepped out. Mr. Stanley, “Rupert of debate,” stepped in. The two dispossessed of Canadian power lost no time in presenting themselves at the Colonial Office, one of them going in as his small adversary, Mr. Mackenzie, happened to be coming out, and the personal interview with the possessors of “alienated affections” made the new Secretary make a bid for the return of these valuables by reinstating the ex-Solicitor-General, and giving the ex-Attorney-General the Chief-Justiceship of “Some place abroad, Where sailors gang to fish for cod,” in what was called the Cinderella of the colonies, Newfoundland. History is silent, as far as we can learn, on the state of his affections thereafter, transplanted and uprooted so often. We presume they withered and a’ wede awa’. Now this Chief-Justice had formerly called Mackenzie a reptile, and the other gentleman had dubbed him a spaniel dog--quite a leap from the general to the special, had but Darwin, then somewhere near American waters casting his search-light of enquiry from H. M. S. _Beagle_, known of it. Mackenzie was in despair: “I am disappointed. The prospect before us is indeed dark and gloomy.” But rallying from this despondency, in his usual peppery style he told Mr. Stanley the appointments would be “a spoke in the wheel in another violent revolution in America.” Hume wrote that he judged the disposition of the Secretary was to promote rather than to punish for improper conduct, and thereby encourage the misgovernment in Canada, which Lord Goderich’s policy had been likely to prevent. Well might a Canadian paper, announcing the advent of the new Attorney-General, Jameson, say: “It is to be hoped he will view the real situation of the people of this province from his own observation.” The Iroquois was always ready to drink to the King’s health, be he a George or a William; Stanley might declaim about “the most odious and blood-thirsty tyranny of French republicanism;” but this little Canadianized Scotchman, with his clever pen and tongue, misty conceptions of statesmanship, real grievances and revolutionary speech, was more than the Home Government could “thole.” The Earl of Ripon, in 1839, stated that Mackenzie in his correspondence of 1835 sought to make himself appear a very great man, whereas in reality he was a very little man. In his apologetic we find: “Well, he saw Mr. Mackenzie. He did not know that Mr. Mackenzie was a broken-down peddler. He knew that Mr. Mackenzie was an exceedingly troublesome person. He was perfectly satisfied, from the conduct of the individual, that Mr. Mackenzie was as vain and shallow a person as he had ever encountered. If the conference alluded to by Mr. Mackenzie was of only two hours’ duration, he must say it was the longest two hours he had ever known.”