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---------...-SIBTHORP AGAIN.


SIBTHORP AGAIN. OWING to some cause hitherto unexplained, perhaps alto- ,,e gether inexplicable, our gallant Colonel has been somewhat subdued of late. A change has come over the spirit of his dream. Since the day memorable for his kind invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Cuffy to tea, with himself, and Disraeli, and a few friends, he has not been so outrageously absurd as usual. It may be that the little affair went off with less eclat than was anticipated—that Cuffy was too dogmatic—that young Ben was too sarcastic-that the tea was too weak, or the muffins underdone. It is true that he recovered himself suf- ficiently to tell Feargus O'Connor that he was sorry the Chartists did not march over Westminster Bridge that fa- mous April the 10th, as if they had, they would have had a d d good licking. A speech which very much amused the House, but which to our mind seemed rather vulgar and In certainly profane. It was not the Colonel's genuine nature —his true Attic salt. Still we had no fears as to Sibthorp's ultimate brilliancy. We felt that this obscuration was but for a time; that he, at least, in these days of marvellous revolutions would be true to himself; and, consistent to the last, never relapse into common sense. Nor have we hoped in vain. Last Thursday, if the Par- liamentary reporters may be depended on, Sibthorp, after gravely assuring the House that he was not old enough* to, viiC OuuiVi Ksj~aa,y ll mi lit) would have the I- whole system of railways sifted to the bot- tom, that they might find who was right and who was wrong, and if they even hanged the wrong he would sub- scribe to it, for it was high time that these new customs, systems, and doctrines were annihilated altogether." Now-, at any rate, if this is not using daggers, it is speak- ing them. With what horror and trembling did we slowly read the Colonel's withering denunciations against the only system by which his admiring constituency can cheaply and expeditiously leave their own ancient town, and, from the gallery of St. Stephen's, listen whilst he roars in Erele's vein," in the senate of our land. We could almost have thought that our gallant Colonel had burned his fingers in the fire—that he had bought shares in the Diddle- sex Junction or the Grand Central Timbuctoo, and that, as men do fed most bitterly in this Christian land a pecuniary wrong, ever since he had been silently awaiting the hour of his sweet and sure revenge. We almost fancied that hope had told a flattering tale, not merely to aspiring clerks and ambitious tradesmen and merchants, more merry than wise, but to the wary Sibthorp; and hence his ire. Hinc ilia lachrymce. Wo feel, however, satisfied that our first im- pression was improbable, erroneous, absurd. Sibthorp spoke the dictates of his conscience—not from personal pique, but from. a desire for the public weal. As Sir Peter Laurie put down" suicide, so would he put down new customs, systems, and doctrines." We have another parallel passage in modern history, that of Mrs. Partington, who, with broom and mop, set to work to put down" the Atlantic. Will Sibthorp be more successful than Sir Peter Laurie-than Dame Partington P We fear not. How far are we to go back ? Where do the old prin- ciples and customs terminate ? Where do the new begin ? Surely Sibthorp would not pitch upon the reign of George ILL, with its foolish and diastrous war with America, and equally foolish and equally disastrous war with France P Nor would the days of Whig domination, during the first and second Georges, suit him. Equally objectionable would be the days of Anne or William. Would ho select, then, the time of that foolish king who lost his kingdom for a mass—whose reign was a continued crusade against right— whose ministers of justice were such wretches as Jetrcrie and Kirke ? Would he wish to bring back the days of the Merry Monarch, when Whitehall was a brothel—when honour died out in our land, the days, as Macaulay has rightly described them, "of sensnahty without love—of dwarfish virtues and gigantic vices ?" We cannot for an.' instant suppose that England under the Commonwealth, when she was feared abroad and had peace at home—when the matchless pen of the immortal Milton was wielded for the State—would please the Colonel. To the. days of Charles I., of Strafford, and of Laud, we see solid objections. The kingcraft of the stammering and foolish James was by no means of a kind to make it worth repeating. Then we have the glorious days of Queen Bess, when Puritans were exiled and Catholics were hung—of Mary, when men erf the Colonel's religion had either to recant or die—of the royal Henry, who had lax notions on the subject of divorce, and imperially and impartially burnt Catholic and Protes- tant alike. Were those times, when the king's will was law .-wh,on the House of Commons consisted of trembling slaves —when the constitution could- hardly be said to exist-were those times better than these? And the further we go, the less desirable do we find it to retrace our steps. Let the Colonel be consistent—let him retrace the path to barbarism himself—let him eschew a superfluity of cleanliness -.let him exchange Turkey carpets for rushes—let him despise, not merely silver forks, but all forks whatever—let him give up beds, and burn his books—let him sign his address to his constituents with Sibthorp-~his mark;" and then, after all, he will be but a feeble imitator of the Sibthorp of an earlier day, wbo had before, him a clerk of Chatham, a fellow as fond of new customs, systems, and doctrines, as a railway .director of this modern time. SmiLh, loquitur—The Clerk of Chatham—he can write, and read, ¡\nÜ cast accompts. •■' Cade-0, monstrous! Smith-We took him setting of boys' copies. Cade—Here's a villain Smith—H'as a book in his pocket, with red letters m it. Cacle-Nay, then, he's a conjuror. Dick-Nay, he can make obligations, and write court-hand.. Cade-I am sorry for't. The man is a proper man, on mine honour. Unless I find him guilty, he shall not die; Come hither,- sirrah. I must examine thee. What is thy name r 67erA--Ernmanuel. >-r> -u Dick-—They use to write it on the top of letters. 1 will go hard with you. Cade—Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thy name, or hast thou a mark to thyself, like an honest, plain-dealing man ? Clerk—Sir, I thank God I have been so well brought up that I can write my own name. All-He hath confessed. Away with him. He s a villain and a ti-ttitor. j. Cade—Away with him, I say. Hang him with his pen and ink-horn about his neck. And the poor fellow was hung, as Sibthorp would hang a railway director, even though that director may belong to that same great standiug-still party of which Sibtnorp is the ornament and defence. Z, What, after all, is Sibthorp, but a poor plagiarist from-a humble imitator of-Jack Cade;