I am playing a game here, in which I am king, and all the rest of the cards knaves; and yet I believe I have at last managed to trump them, but it is hard work. I wish I was a bookseller in Albemarle Street, and you here. I have seen much since I left you, and if I had but time to mix up my soap and water, I think I could blow you some bubbles as big as balloons. But I am restless and itching for want of my family.
I send you a copy of my speech on proroguing this Provincial Legislature. It is, as you will perceive, rather a lengthy one, but when once I managed to open my mouth, like Balaam’s ass, it came out quite easy. I wish you could get it inserted in the London newspapers, as it will explain in England the difficulties I have had to contend with.
This is a fine country, if we could but get it quiet, in which I have really nearly succeeded by upsetting the radicals. It is a fine place for emigrants, for men coming
366 | MEMOIRS OF JOHN MURRAY |