out of the hands of the Whigs, and shall find how
he will play the self-same trumps assorted by his opponents. A change is
already coming over the Conservatives; they are meek and mild, and, with
their pocket handkerchiefs at their eyes, lisp about the distresses of the
people. "When the geese gaggle," says a rustic saw, "expect a change of
weather." Lord LONDONDERRY has already begun to talk of an alteration of
the Corn-laws.

"Who knows what a minister may be compelled to do?" says Lord LONDONDERRY.
These are new words for the old harridan Toryism. She was wont, like
_Falstaff_, to blow out her cheeks and defy compulsion. But the truth is,
Toryism has a new host to contend with. Her old reign was supported by
fictitious credit--by seeming prosperity--and, more than all, by the
ignorance of the people. Well, the bills drawn by Toryism (at a long date
we grant) have now to be paid--paper is to be turned into Bank gold.
Arithmetic is a great teacher, and, with the taxman's ink horn at his
button-hole, gives at every door lessons that sink into the heart of the
scholar. Public opinion, which, in the good old days "when George the
Third was king," was little more than an abstraction--a thing talked of,
not acknowledged--is now a tangible presence. The said public opinion is
now formed of hundreds of thousands whose existence, save in the books of
the Exchequer, was scarcely admitted by any reigning minister. Sir ROBERT
PEEL has now to give in his reckoning to the hard-heads of Manchester, of
Birmingham, of Leeds--he must pass his books with them, and tens of
thousands of their scholars scattered throughout the kingdom; or, three
months after the next meeting of Parliament, he is nought.

At this moment, it is said, Sir ROBERT is studying what taxes he can best
lay upon the people. We confess to the difficulty of the case. At this
moment there is scarcely a feather so light, the addition of which will
not crack the camel's back. No; Sir ROBERT will come to the Whig measures
of relief, having so disguised them as, like _Plagiary's_ metaphors, to
make them pass for his own. The object of himself and party is, however,
attained. He has juggled himself into place. With the genius of his former
existence, as TEUFELSKOPF, the Premier has shuffled himself into
Downing-street; and there he will leave nothing untried that he may
remain. "If Cato gets drunk, then is drunkenness no shame"--"If Sir ROBERT
PEEL alter the Corn-laws, the