[At a public dinner given to Mr. Cobbett at Norwich, on the market-day above mentioned, the company drank the toast of _Mr. Cobbett and his "Trash,"_ the name "two-penny trash," having being at one time applied by Lord Castlereagh to the _Register_. In acknowledging this toast Mr. Cobbett addressed the company in a speech, of which the following is a passage:] "My thanks to you for having drunk my health, are great and sincere; but much greater pleasure do I feel at the approbation bestowed on that _Trash_, which has, for so many years been a mark for the finger of scorn to be pointed at by ignorant selfishness and arrogant and insolent power. To enumerate, barely to name, all, or a hundredth part of, the endeavours that have been made to stifle this _Trash_ would require a much longer space of time than that which we have now before us. But, gentlemen, those endeavours must have _cost money_; money must have been expended in the circulation of Anti-Cobbett, and the endless bale of papers and pamphlets put forth to check the progress of the _Trash_: and, when we take into view the immense sums expended in keeping down the spirit excited by the _Trash_, who of us is to tell, whether these endeavours, taken altogether, may not have added _many millions_ to that debt, of which (without any hint at a _concomitant measure_) some men have now the audacity, the unprincipled, the profligate assurance to talk of reducing the interest. The Trash, Gentlemen, is now triumphant; its triumph we are now met to celebrate; proofs of its triumph I myself witnessed not many hours ago, in that scene where the best possible evidence was to be found. In walking through St. Andrew's Hall, my mind was not so much engaged on the grandeur of the place, or on the gratifying reception I met with; those hearty shakes by the hand which I so much like, those smiles of approbation, which not to see with pride would argue an insensibility to honest fame: even these, I do sincerely assure you, engaged my mind much less than the melancholy reflection, that, of the two thousand or fifteen hundred farmers then in my view, there were probably _three-fourths_ who came to the Hall with aching hearts, and who would leave it in a state of mental agony. What a thing to contemplate, Gentlemen! What a scene is here! A set of men, occupiers of the land; producers of all that we eat, drink, wear, and of all that forms the buildings that shelter us; a set of men industrious and careful by habit; cool, thoughtful, and sensible from the instructions of nature; a set of men provident above all others, and engaged in pursuits in their nature stable as the very earth they till: to see a set of men like this plunged into anxiety, embarrassment, jeopardy, not to be described; and when the particular individuals before me were famed for their superior skill in this great and solid pursuit, and were blessed with soil and other circumstances to make them prosperous and