“… The decision upon the Walcheren affair is what was to be desired, I think, looking to the only object which we ought to have in view, a Reform of the Parliament. Now, then, what will the Edinburgh Reviewers say? I shall now quote their own words against themselves. Will they now openly join us, as they said they would, or will they again shuffle? At any rate, the honourable House, so far from agreeing with the country, have approved of what the country has most unequivocally condemned. This cannot fail to tell. Will the Whigs _now_ join the people? They have no other rational course left, but will they not rather sink into eternal oblivion?” In the middle of May, the Attorney-General had made up his mind; and Mr. Cobbett came up to London to the “naming” of the jury. Upon his return to Botley, his hands are fuller than ever. Money has to be provided, so that there shall be no tradesmen in Hampshire left unpaid. “Since last January we have paid for everything, the butcher excepted, as we have had it. No bills of any sort; and I must leave here none at all, if I can help it, when I go up to the trial.” Copy for the _Register_ goes up to London in undiminished quantity; and there is, besides, the preparation for his defence. Friends furnish hints, and supply him with books:-- “To-day has been devoted wholly (since seven o’clock) to the reading of the volumes sent me by the coach. That sent by Mr. Holt White is full of most excellent matter. In short, if those who are to decide are not _baseness itself_, I am safe.” Those who were to decide were, at length, brought together, and they took two minutes over it. FOOTNOTES [1] “In after-life he [‘my father’] described the ‘Hydra’ as a hell upon the waters, and the brutal flogging of the sailors for the most trivial offences as something too horrible for contemplation. ‘Often,’ he used to say, ‘have I wondered that men, who were treated as if they had neither hearts nor souls, should yet, in the hour of danger and of duty, forget their wrongs and indignities, act like true heroes, and pour out their heart’s blood with sublime unselfishness for a country that treated them so detestably.’--Charles Mackay, “Forty Years’ Recollections,” i. p. 13. [2] On the previous 25th of October, the occasion of the King’s entering the fiftieth year of his reign, there had been great “rejoicings.” The Parliamentary Reformists, however, did not approve of it, holding that _the prosperity of the country_ was a hypocritical and delusive cry. Mr. Cobbett boasted of his refusal to subscribe toward giving the twelve hundred thousand paupers “that rarity, that luxury, a bellyful,” and gave very good reasons for it. The Whig papers, too, heaped much derision upon the affair. One of the incidents of the day was a fellow sticking up a placard at Charing Cross, in these terms: “May God disperse the votaries of Cobbett, as the clouds of this day!”