tice of a motion for a bill to reward me by a government
appointment. I am not particular as to where, or what: I only bargain
against being Secretary for Ireland, or Chief Justice at Cape Coast
Castle.

A NUT FOR REPEAL.

When the cholera first broke out in France, a worthy prefect in a
district of the south published an edict to the people, recommending
them by all means to eat well-cooked and nutritious food, and drink
nothing but _vin de Bourdeaux_, Anglice, claret. The advice was
excellent, and I take it upon me to say, would have found very few
opponents in fact, as it certainly did in principle. When the world,
however, began to consider that _filets de boeuf a la Marengo_, and
"_dindes truffees_," washed down with _Chateau Lafitte_ or _Larose_,
were not exactly within the reach of every class of the community,
they deemed the prefect's counsel more humane than practicable, and as
they do at every thing in France when the tide of public opinion
changes, they laughed at him heartily, and wrote pasquinades upon his
folly. At the same time the ridicule was unjust, the advice was good,
sound, and based on true principles, the only mistake was, the
difficulty of its practice. Had he recommended as an antiseptic to
disease, that the people should play short whist, wear red night-caps,
or pelt stones at each other, there might have been good ground for
the disfavour he fell into; such acts, however practicable and easy of
execution, having manifestly no tendency to avert the cholera. Now
this is precisely the state of matters in Ireland at this moment:
distress prevails more or less in every province and in every county.
The people want employment, and they want food. Had you recommended
them to eat strawberries and cream in the morning, to drink lemonade
during the day, take a little chicken salad for dinner, with a light
bread pudding and a glass of negus afterwards, avoiding all stimulant
and exciting food--for your Irishman is a feverish subject--you might
be laughed at perhaps for your dietary, but certes it would bear, and
bear strongly too, upon the case in question. But what do you do in
reality? The local papers teem with cases of distress: families are
starving; the poor, unhoused and unfed, are seen upon the road sides
exposed to every vicissitude of the season, surrounded by children who
cry in vain for bread. What, I ask, is the measure of relief you
propose? not a public subscription; no general