Another episode, of this period, gave still more trouble to Mr. Cobbett. There was an influential batch of politicians in Westminster, of which Francis Place was one of the leaders. Their liberalism went in the line of electoral purity, and verged toward Republicanism; and their favourites were Burdett and Hobhouse. At the election of June, 1818, Henry Hunt stood as a candidate, and this clique (known as the Rump Committee) opposed him with all their might. The secretary and agent was one Thomas Cleary, who had given much aid as promoter of Hampden clubs throughout the country, and was studying as a barrister. Mr. John Wright was connected with this set; and, being in possession of several hundred of Cobbett’s old letters,[12] found one among them which reflected strongly upon Hunt’s private character. We have already perused it, as the reader will recollect.[13] Wright showed this to Francis Place, and Place showed it to Cleary, who read it out to the electors, on the first opportunity: adding, “In the language of Mr. Cobbett, I have only to say, ‘He’s a sad fellow, beware of him.’” So electoral purity draws the line at some point or other: in this case, at the point outside of which lies a detestable breach of confidence. The consequences may be imagined. Mr. Cobbett first heard of it through the medium of a New York paper, and lost his temper over it. Both Cobbett and Burdett had associated with Mr. Hunt, of late years: had gone sporting with him, and had even been under the same roof with “the lady.” This was stronger in Mr. Cobbett’s recollection than the memory of his first scanty acquaintance with Hunt; and a hasty note, written more than ten years ago, had entirely faded from his memory. So he, in his first outburst of anger, charged Cleary with forging the letter; and, afterward, on several occasions, represented Wright as a rogue, “unparalleled in the annals of infamy;” giving his readers a graphic story of how the latter had falsified accounts; and how his little son had been a witness (in Newgate) of the “big drops of sweat standing upon the caitiff’s brow,” upon the occasion of his detection.