"حياة ومراسلات اللواء السير جون مالكوم، قائد فرسان وسام الطُهر، المبعوث السابق إلى بلاد فارس وحاكم بومباي؛ من رسائل ومذكرات غير منشورة. في مجلّدين. المجلد II." [‎٥‎٧‎٧] (٦٥٤/٥٩٤)

LAST STRUGGLES OF TORYISM.
another to his old friend Lady Johnston, of Westerhall
then residing at Woodeaton, Malcolm made his way to
the neighbourhood of Warfield,* and after a little time
spent in the examination and furtherance of his im
provements, returned to London on the 12th of January.
On the 17th of January, Parliament reassembled ;
and, three da^s aftei wards, the House of Commons went
into committee on the Reform Bill.f Sir John Mal
colms \isit to Shropshire had m no degree diminished
his apprehensions of the evil consequences that, in his
estimation, were likely to result from the proposed mea
sure becoming the law of the land; and hq. was among
the last, as he was among the most vehement, of its op
ponents. On the 19th of March, when the third reading
* He slept at an inn in the adja
cent parish of Binfield, where he made
the acquaintance of some of his new
neighbours; his journal contains the
following characteristic entry : "I
went through the kitchen, which was
full of the more respectable class of
customers, as the landlady informed
me—others frequenting the tap. I
sainted the party, who were farmers
and traders of ail kinds. Every one
I saw had a pot of beer and some pipes,
'lam come,' I said, 'to settle among
yon, and I hope we shall be good
neighbours. 5 ' No doubt—no doubt,'
said a tali farmer, a little in years.
' Old soldiers like you, Sir John, always
make good neighbours. I was myself a
soldier for fifteen years. Take a little
of this ale.' And he handed me a pot,
from which I took a little. An im
mense man, upwards of twenty stone,
rose up, saying,' That's a proper gentle
man. I likes to see a man familiar like,
but himself too. We have been talk
ing you over. Sir John. I think, as I
told them here, you will be a trump.
But we shall see. I kill capital meat;
I hope you will take it.' ' Why,' said
I. ' my honest fellow, I belong to
Warfield, and there may be a parish
butcher, or a man who has long sup-
E
lied the house.' c I know all that,'
lie said, ' but now and then; and de
pend upon it 1 beat Berks for the fat
and lean well mixed.' ' You look like
your meat,' I said, c yourself.' ' That's
not bad,' said the butcher; ' try a little
more ale.' And he held out his pot.
I excused myself, and left my friends
seemingly well pleased with my visit
to the kitchen."
f Soon after his return to London,
Sir John Malcolm was requested to
preside at a dinner given at the Free
masons' Tavern in commemoration of
his and Scotland's favorite poet. The
Burns Festival of 1832 is still remem
bered with pleasure by many distin
guished literary men who responded to
the toasts which Malcolm proposed with
an overflowing geniality worthy of the
occasion. There was no want of con
viviality—none of " mirth," growing,
perhaps, " fast and furious" as the
evening advanced; and it rejoiced Mal
colm's heart to witness the honor that
was done to the bard who had so often
been a delight and a solace to him in
strange places, and in strange conjunc
tions, when he had no one else with
whom he could converse in the language
of his native country.
VOL. II.