The little Windsor election has quite startled the world by
the appearance of a new political comet, which shone with sudden effulgence and has disappeared again in the profound obscure. Such was Mr. Rupert Kettle. Who is he ? A barrister of the Ox- ford orbit—that is all that people have had time to learn. He op- posed the Corn-laws, the Poor-laws, the Ministry, Colonel Reid, and all that Colonel Reid did not oppose. Mr. Rupert came, was seen, and was conquered. He came to rescue the borough from its bondage—from being "dragooned" by the cooks and maids of the Castle; and he did not succeed. Nevertheless, great is the talk about the return of " the Castle" candidate : people are as indignant because the borough has deferred to the wishes of the housekeeper's room and butler's pantry as if the town were any- thing more than a larder and scullery attached to the Castle. Its singular preeminence in 1845 is due to the presence of Mr. Wal- ter; who is always attended by certain attributes,—first, some grievance about which he puts forth long writings and speeches; secondly, very long reports and peals of " thunder" in the Times, the more remarkable as he has no connexion with that journal; and thirdly, riotings. It is curious that so well-meaning- a gen- tleman should be followed everywhere, with increasing fidelity of attendance, by turmoil and failure.
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