Ixxxii AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
Then peace will flourish all around, 
And none in sorrow shall be found ; 
Nor need we fear a repetition 
Of Guy’s unlucky expedition. 
When I reflect that the faith of my ancestors has 
been most cruelly assailed for centuries, by every 
man in power, from the Prime Minister of England 
down to the county magistrate; when I see it 
rising again triumphant in every part of the empire; 
and when I observe multitudes, in every rank of 
life, returning to its consoling communion, I call to 
mind, with infinite delight, those beautiful verses 
of Dryden : — 
‘A milk-white hind, immortal and unchanged, 
Fed on the lawns, and in the forests ranged. 
Without unspotted, innocent within, 
She fear’d no danger, for she knew no sin. 
Yet had she oft been chased with horns and hounds, 
And Scythian shafts, and many-winged wounds 
Aim’d at her heart; was often forced to fly, 
And doom’d to death, though fated not to die.” 
I have made no mention of my political feel- 
ings in these Memoirs. My politics, indeed, claim 
little notice. Being disabled by Sir Robert Peel’s 
Bill from holding even a commission of the peace, I 
am like a stricken deer, walking apart from the rest 
of the herd. Still I cannot help casting a compas- 
sionate eye on poor Britannia, as she lies on her 
bed of sickness. A debt of eight hundred millions 
of pounds sterling (commenced by Dutch William 
of glorious memory) is evidently the real cause of 
her distressing malady. It is a fever of the worst 
