His Lordship might, however, have made good his retreat, with a decent orderly appearance, if he had not chosen to go out of his way to take up a Spy behind him on his new metaphysical charger, and to ride the high horse over all those, who are not the fast friends and staunch admirers of that profession, as traitors and _no true men_. Sir Francis Burdett, not relishing this assault of the master and man, pulled off the Squire, and rolling him in the mud, pelted him so unmercifully with Irish evidence and musty affidavits of his friends and relations, that his gallant patron, seeing the plight he was in, dismounted, and was condescending enough to acknowledge, that ‘cruelty was in every species detestable,’ and that ‘he lamented to think that there were miscreants in human nature capable of committing crime for the love of reward’; sentiments not new indeed, but new in his Lordship’s mouth. The country gentlemen must have felt relieved, and Lord Lascelles’s hat have recovered its primitive shape! The House of Commons is no dupe; Lord Castlereagh no driveller. Would he then seriously persuade them, that the Spy hanged his old friends and accomplices out of pure love to his country, and disinterested friendship to his Lordship? We would advise the noble Lord in the blue ribbon to _cut_ his parliamentary connexion with his police acquaintance at once. The thing cannot answer; it is against decorum. He might as well introduce his scavenger as a person of fashion at Carlton-House, as attempt to pass off his _Spy_ as a gentleman, and a man of honour, any where else! The gentlemen-ushers would turn up their noses at one of his Lordship’s necessary appendages, and the moral sense of the English nation turns with disgust from the other, when forced upon it as a _beau morceau_ of morality, with the _sauce picquant_ of ministerial panegyric! We were glad to find the former Secretary for Ireland reprobating the practice of flogging to extract evidence, as ‘a most wicked and unwarrantable piece of torture’; a confession which seemed to be extorted from his Lordship by the impression made by the reading of some of Mr. Finnerty’s affidavits, as they are called, though they are no more Mr. Finnerty’s affidavits, who procured them, than they are Mr. Bennet’s, who read them. Every thing relating to this subject is particularly interesting at this moment, when the same power is vested in the same hands in this country, that was wielded twenty years ago in Ireland—not indeed as a precedent to the English government, but as a warning to the English people. We give no opinion on the truth or falsehood of the allegations contained in the affidavits, but we do say, that the noble Secretary reasoned very badly on the subject. He says that Mr. Finnerty is not a very loyal man, that is, he is not very strongly attached to his Lordship’s person or government, and therefore neither Mr. Finnerty, nor any person taking an