Do you think them goneys that make such a touss about the Arms' Bill, care about the Irish?
No, not they; they want Irish votes, that's all--it's _Bunkum_.
Do you jist go and mesmerise John Russell, and Macauley, and the other officers of the regiment of Reformers, and then take the awkward squad of recruits--fellers that were made drunk with excitement, and then enlisted with the promise of a shillin', which they never got, the sargeants having drank it all; go and mesmerise them all, from General Russell down to Private Chartist, clap 'em into a caterwaulin' or catalapsin' sleep, or whatever the word is, and make 'em tell the secrets of their hearts, as Dupotet did the Clear-voyancing gall, and jist hear what they'll tell you.
"Lord John will say--'I was sincere!' (and I believe on my soul he was.
He is wrong beyond all doubt, but he is an honest man, and a clever man, and if he had taken his _own_ way more, and given Powlet Thompson _his_ less, he would a' been a great colony secretary; and more's the pity he is in such company.

He'll get off his beam ends, and right himself though, yet, I guess.) Well, he'd say--'I was sincere, I was disinterested; but I am disappointed.

I have awakened a pack of hungry villains who have sharp teeth, long claws, and the appetite of the devil.

They have swallered all I gave 'em, and now would eat me up without salt, if they could.

Oh, that I could hark back! _there is no satisfyin' a movement party_.' "Now what do the men say, (I don't mean men of rank, but the men in the ranks),--'Where's all the fine things we were promised when Reform gained the day ?' sais they, 'ay, where are they?
for we are wuss off than ever, now, havin' lost all our old friends, and got bilked by our new ones tarnationly.