Brandon, you must write me a speech for the next session—and be sure it has plenty of general maxims, and concludes with 'my bleeding country!'"
The lawyer smiled. "You consent then to the expulsion of Sternhold and Raffden? for, after all, that is the question. Our British vessel, as the damned metaphor-mongers call the state, carries the public good safe in the hold like brandy, and it is only when fear, storm, or the devil makes the rogues quarrel among themselves, and break up the casks, that one gets above a thimble-full at a time. We should go on fighting with the rest of the world for ever, if the ministers had not taken to fight among themselves."
"As for Sternhold," said the Earl, "'tis a vulgar dog, and voted for economical reform—besides, I don't know him;—he may go to the devil, for aught I care; but Kaffden must be dealt handsomely with, or, despite the garter, I will fall back among the Whigs, who, after all, give tolerable dinners."
"But why, my Lord, must Raffden be treated better than his brother recusant?"
