THE HUMOURS OF AN ELECTION.

YOU are a fool, Letty; you don't know what it is to be married to a parliment-man: he can do ſuch things, child! lord, he can do any thing.

I confeſs, father, ſome parliment-men of late have proved they can do any thing. But ſurely, you can never think my booby couſin will cut any figure in the Houſe of Commons.

Why not, why not, you ſatyrical baggage?

He can't ſay boo! to a gooſe.

If he can nick the time to ſay aye, or no, he'll do more than a better orator.

And to compleat the ridicule, his mother canvaſſes for him. Sure the ſpirit of abſurdity has de⯑ſcended upon our family, and determined we ſhould be a public laughing-ſtock. She would have me with her yeſterday; and ſuch a tramp as we had! She took me through all the filthy alleys in town; then we were obliged to kiſs the children in every houſe we went into, be they never ſo dirty, and keep a pocket full of halfpence to ſlip into her hands; a proof, dear father, of what a bribe can do, when we can purchaſe nothing but a rattle with it.

Why this was mere paſtime to what I have gone through on my canvaſs. I went yeſterday to ſo⯑licit the vote and intereſt of old Smoke Jack, the chimney-ſweeper, and found his whole family ſeated at a banquet of ox-cheek and bacon. I was preſſed to eat you may be ſure; ſo down I ſat between his two eldeſt boys, as he called them, ſo black! that they looked more like two organized bags of ſoot than hu⯑man beings. I ſat clear for ſome time, 'till one of the lads reaching his brother the bread acroſs me, black'd all the ſide of my coat, which, as ill-luck would have it, happened to be cream-coloured. His father, mad at his ill manners, got up to ſtrike him; when the boy, in ſtriving to eſcape, threw me and his brother down, and before I got up I was black enough to paſs for one of the family.

And wasn't this ſufficient to give you a ſur⯑feit of canvaſſing?

What, getting a dirty coat? no, no, I never mind dirt in ſerving my country.

Ah, ſir, how happy were we before you took this notion in your head! I then had hopes my dear Belfield would be mine.

Why he takes pains to provoke me; he has ſet up in oppoſition to George; has open'd a houſe, writes ballads, gets drunk, and is riſing every day into conſequence.

O, heavens! if he ſhould be return'd, per⯑haps then, ſir, you would relent.

Zounds, don't make me mad! he ſhan't be returned: George ſhall carry you and his election together.

He may be returned for the borough of Bribewell, but Belfield has an intereſt in my heart, which no venal candidate can rob him of.

Grumble as much as you pleaſe, ma'am, but I am determined your marriage articles, and the writs for the new parliment, ſhall be returnable toge⯑ther. I fancy there are ſew who can ſay as much for themſelves as Joe Parmazan. I was bred a cheeſe⯑monger, 'tis true, but what of that? when I have a ſon in the houſe, his cloquence will pare off the rind of my obſcurity. I hope, like his father, be'll have all the blue mold of patriotiſm about him. Let me ſee, how ſtand my morning expences, (Pulls the dif⯑ferent articles out of his pocket as be names them) I have above three hundred pounds worth of goods in my pockets, that at a juſt appraiſement would not be va⯑lued at twenty ſhillings; but election wares are tickliſh articles, and whilſt the fair laſts, keen chapmen will [4]have their prices. Here's a piece of gingerbread that coſt me five guineas, that I could have bought for a penny at any baker's in London, but no price is thought too high for real parliment cakes. A child's trumpet too! a pretty play-thing this for a man of my age! It coſt me two guineas, and I muſt wait 'till my grandſon is born to blow me a tune upon it. Here's fifty pounds ſlap in a caſe of razors. Theſe razors may ſhave keen, but I think they never will cut ſo cloſe as the fellow who ſold them. Here's a toothpick-caſe, coſt me twenty pounds. If a man was to pay every day in the ſame proportion for his dinner, he might ſoon ſhut up his mouth, and give his teeth a holiday! But oh, monſtrous! in this paper I have a hundred hob-nails, for which I paid a hun⯑dred pounds down upon the nail; I was nail'd hard in that bargain. Here is ſome Scotch ſnuff, and ſome court ſticking-plaiſter, which coſt me very dear; but I don't mind that, as they are articles which will be of great uſe to the Member when he gets into the houſe.

Mr. Canvaſs, fir.

Shew him in.

My deat Canvaſs, how do you go on?

Swimmingly, ſwimmingly, ſir. I have ſecured all Corruption-row, Bribewell-alley, and Guz⯑zledown-ſtreet, to a ſingle elector.

Was my ſiſter with you?

Ay, but ſhe did me more harm than good: ſhe's too old to have any intereſt with the men, and the elector's wives like to be kiſſed by the canvaſſer.

Ecod, ſo they do, and if poſſible I ſhould have undertaken the whole canvaſs myſelf; but as I am rather too old now for ſo much buſineſs, my dear boy, don't ſpare yourſelf.

There's Full Bottom, the barber, what have you done with him? I underſtand that he can com⯑mand two votes beſides his own.

Lord! he's one of us. 'Twas I ſet him up; he's only a houſekeeper three days. He lived in a dark hole he called a ſhop, at the ſign of Gentlemen ſhaved for a penny, upon a paper lanthorn. The other two votes are his journeymen, fellows who have been all their lives garret-houſekeepers; but I have given ſecurity for a quarter's rent to qualify them.

Mr. Gooſe, the taylor, ſir, has juſt rode up to the door, and deſires to ſpeak with you.

Bid him come in.

This is one of our ſheet-anchors; he lives about ſeven miles off, and has great intereſt among the farmers and alehouſes. Go you inſtantly to the Committee, and ſee that nothing is neglected.

I have beſpoke five ſuits of clothes of this Gooſe, and yet the fellow has the impudence to talk of his con⯑ſcience, and refuſing a bribe.

Dear Mr. Gooſe, I have been juſt wiſh⯑ing for you. Come, ſit down, ſit down, and tell us the news.

I have rode hard, Mr. Parmazan, to ſerve you, and as I take no bribes, I hope my horſe hire will be paid for.

You ſhall have the beſt gelding in my ſtable.

I can't take it; my conſcience is buckram to a bribe.

But, my dear friend, conſider that you gave me your vote and intereſt, before I made this offer. Why, if one friend cannot make another friend a pre⯑ſent now and then, without incurring the cenſure of corruption, there's no friendſhip leſt in the world.

Not a ſhred. Friendſhip's like broad-cloth, it wears well in all weathers. But I have had a ſad journey of it.

I am ſorry for that.

The fright, I believe, was the worſt of it; for you muſt know, that this was the firſt time I ever mounted any thing but a ſhop-board.

You muſt want ſome refreſhment—Here, get ſome wine.—Which do you chooſe, red or white?

I have no choice. Good cloth's never of a bad colour.

Then put that pint bottle of the choice Madeira on the table. That bottle, I aſſure you, is twelve years old.

Mercy on us! it's the littleſt thing of its age I ever ſaw.

Come, George's health to the bottom of your glaſs.

I'll not leave a remnant behind me.

I made his firſt ſuit; who wou'd have thought I was taking meaſure of a Parliament Man?

Now let us proceed to buſineſs.—You muſt know, my worthy friend, I intend you for a leading man in my committee.

You don't ſay ſo?

There's ſomething ſo conſequential in your countenance, ſo manly in your manner, ſpite of your profeſſion, that you muſt command great reſpect in a croud.

Odzookers, what muſt I ſay to them?

Huzza! as often as poſſible. Cry no bribery, no corruption, no hired mob; and if our party meetmuch oppoſition, cry, no Scotchmen, and it will do wonders.

Aye, damn the Scotch with all my heart; they are no friends to our trade; I hear as how one half of them wear no breeches.

Off to the committee then immediately, and be ſure to cry loudly for liberty and property, and the conſtitution.

Friend Parmazan, the ſkirts of the conſti⯑tution are grown too long. The lappells and buttons are increaſing, and they ought to be cut ſhort after a new faſhion.

Now I ſhall inſtruct you in the duty you owe your conſtituents.

Why I thought I owed no duty but to father and mother.

There is a confuſion, George, in your ideas, that makes me tremble for your ſucceſs as a ſpeaker in the Houſe of Commons.

Sure they won't make me ſpeaker of the Houſe the firſt time I go in? I can ſpeak to be ſure, but I muſt be a little us'd to my company.

Has your oratorical preceptor been here yet?

My roar-otorical preceptor, you ſhould call him, for he makes me bawl 'till I am hoarſe again. What do you think, mother, he would hav me clap two pebbles in my mouth to make me talk clear. He told me De—De—De, ſomething, a great Gre⯑cian parliament man, didn't ſpeak a jot better than me, till he uſed theſe pebbles.

I have tried the pebbles myſelf, child, and I find they wonderfully aſſiſt me.

Mr. Mac Rhetorick.

I hope I have the honor to find your Lady⯑ſhip in parfect health. I ſtaid beyond my oor, but I have ſo many young members from my ain country to inſtruct for the new Parliment, that I have ſcarce a minute on my hands.

Mr. Mac Rhetorick, I have one queſtion to aſk you, I never aſk'd before. I hope no offence?

I attend your commands, Sir.

How the dickens can you come to teach me Engliſh, when you can't ſpeak it yourſelf? It is for all the world as if a blind man ſhould go to teach a young horſe his paces.

George, George, I do not like this ſpirit of oppoſition.

He will ken better, Madam, when he is in the hooſe. He will then find the value of a Caledo⯑nian preceptor.

Come, buſtle, buſtle, is our young Can⯑didate almoſt ready? Yonder go the mob, ſhouting moſt delightfully. Banners flying, girls giggling; every thing alive expecting the candidates on the huſt⯑ings.

I am very glad, Mr. Parmazan, you are come to be a watneſs of our young orator's progreſs in the moſt noble and perſwaſive art of eloquence, but do not expect all the flower of a Ceecero from him.

Flower! damme, do you think I'd have him a mealy-mouthed ſpeaker?

Brother, your ignorance ſhocks me.

They are falling out about me; but I'll be ſhot if I know why; for between my mother's high larning, and my maſter's broad Scotch, I may as well be amongſt the wild Iriſh, for what knowledge I get.

My brother, Sir, does not expect from your tyro—

His what?

His tyro.

Where the devil did you get that word? it's not Engliſh.

It's originally Latin, and ſignifies a young ſtudent.

A young ſtudent! it's a better name for a young pointer.

But when am I to ſpeak my ſpeech? I ſhall forget it. I never can keep one above two hours in my head.

Pegin as ſoon as you pleaſe, Sir, —"Con⯑ſidêre duces", Sir.

Yes, yes, I do conſider the uſe of it.

He ſhall ſtand in my great chair, with the back facing us, and he ſhall have a pillow for a cuſhion to thump, if he's afraid of his knuckles.

What ſhall I do? I don't remember a word of what he wrote down for me.

Ecod, I have a mind to make a ſpeech of my own; I am ſure I can do it as well as my maſter.

Before, child, you aſcend this humble roſtrum—

Lord, mother, what ſignifies preaching Parſon Palmer ſo often? I have hard words enough in my ſpeech.

Let grace be your grand object.

How often, mother, have you called me graceleſs!

Do not forget your action, —action is the life and ſoul of oratory, for as Demoſthenes—

That's the man that ſwallowed the peb⯑bles.

Zounds! let the boy ſpeak, we don't want to hear you make ſpeeches.

No more we don't, uncle, ſo here goes; but before I begin, I have carried my election, for I am chaired already.

Begin, Sir.—Gentlemen—

I think I had better ſay, neighbours, I'm ſure it's more friendly. But if it muſt be ſo, —Gen⯑tlemen, tho' my mother's one of the company, I ſay, gentlemen, I am your own town's boy, born and bred amongſt you.

What the deel is this? Why, man, this is not my language?

No, I'll be ſworn, for it's Engliſh, bad as it is.

No delicate ear can bear this.

You're deviliſh ſqueamiſh all of a ſudden, but hear me out—If you have a mind to make me a good parliament man, let me ſpeak as I think, not as other people would have me.

That's ſpoken like a true-born Engliſh⯑man, George, and ſhould be written in letters of gold, over the poll at every election.

You are ſent for, Sir, by the committee.

Odſo! I had like to have forgot myſelf; Mr. Mac Rhetorick, do you and my ſiſter watch him, and drive it into his head, if poſſible, with hammer and mallet. I muſt go the committee im⯑mediately.

If he be not parfect in proper time, I'll ſtaund beheend him, on the huſtings, and prompt.

Zounds! that will never do. No Scotch prompter for the people of England.

How many votes, Mr. Gooſe, can you bring?

I can bring nine to-day, nine to-morrow, nine next day, and nine more, if wanted, before the poll cloſes.

What are they?

Taylors.

You know I am, by proſeſſion, a wine merchant, but, by trade, a juſtice of peace; therefore, I think I may venture to promiſe you all my bad debts, and every poor houſekeeper in my diſtrict.

Since I was a tallow-chandler, and my name Bonfire, I never knew ſuch times; my intereſt is burnt out.

You, no doubt, have great intereſt, Doctor Mac Fracture?

Nothing like what I had, I ſcarce ſell a doſe of phyſic in a weck; never called up a-nights, except by the mob breaking my windows; no chance cuſtomers dropping in for a doſe of ſalts, or to [14]get rid of a tooth; and, as I am a Chriſtian, I have not drawn a drop of blood this fortnight.

Mr. Buſtle, how do you ſtand for votes?

Why, let me ſee—there's Will Cogdie, the keeper of the EO table in Black-ball Alley, and his intereſt; then there's the landlord of the Blue Bear, the Black Horſe, the Green Man, and, my boſom friend, Love Frolic, that was put in poſſeſſion of the round-houſe laſt night; all theſe I can pro⯑miſe, to a certainty, as good reputable votes, beſides two Iriſh couſins of my wife, that at any time are ready to be qualified.

There are ſeveral electors come to offer their intereſt.

Shew them in one by one.

Ay, ſhew them in, and I'll examine them.

Pray, friend, what's your name?

Briſtle.

A very good name, truly—what trade are you?

A cobler.

A very good trade too, and ſuits Briſtle to a hair Are you a houſekeeper?

Yes.

Where do you live?

At the corner of Heeltap Alley.

A very genteel quarter of the town, near the market-place, I know it; do you let any part of your houſe to lodgers?

Yes, the roof, to chance cuſtomers.

Zounds! this fellow lives in a ſtall.

A ſtall! I ſay, ſir, it's a very good dwel⯑ling-houſe. Do you eat and drink in it, friend Briſtle?

Yes.

Do you ſleep in it?

Yes.

And pay rent for it?

Yes.

Then you are a houſekeeper, though you lived in a thimble. But, friend Briſtle, your appear⯑ance wants mending very much.

No wonder, ſir, for I carry my awl upon my back; and my credit's at an end every where.

Can we depend upon you; are you ſound?

As a new pump.

Then, here, take this paper.

Mind, I give you nothing but paper; and let me ſee you at the huſtings in about an hour.

Mind, that muſt be your own—we gave you only paper.

Yes, yes, it is my own; and my fingers are wax, it will ſtick to them.

Here comes a vote that ſeems to have no great intereſt with the taylor's company.

I'm come to give my vote and intereſt to maſter Highflight.

Why, are you a houſekeeper?

Yes; but I was burnt out.

He was burnt out of Bridewell, gentle⯑men; but his vote's good; for there's a new houſe building for him.

Get about your buſineſs, friend, we can never venture ſuch a ſhabby raſcal on the huſtings.

Softly, ſoftly, Mr. Canvaſs, a coat may be ſoil'd, and ſtill worth turning; this fellow will paſs amongſt the journeymen, if you'd diſguiſe him in a clean ſhirt, and a new ſuit of clothes—what's your name, friend?

Jail Bird.

Well, Mr. Jail Bird, if you'll go waſh your beak and your claws, I'll give you a new ſuit of feathers to your back.

Here comes a large pattern; half a dozen modern-ſized houſekeepers may be cut off him.

Is the candidate here, gentlemen?

I act for him, ſir.

Then, ſir, I have a vote for him.

May I beg to know your name and buſineſs, ſir?

I am a coal-merchant, my name's Shrimp. I live at number ſixteen, oppoſite the ſign of the Black Boy in Collier's Buildings.

Why that houſe is pulled down, and the owner of it has been dead theſe ten years.

But it's a dead lift to our cauſe, if this gen⯑tleman will vote for him.

Ay, that I will.

Beſides, ſee what a ſubſtantial appearance he has!

I have given my vote at ſix different pla⯑ces, and this is the firſt time it was diſputed yet.

I beg your pardon, Mr. Shrimp, I don't en⯑tertain a doubt of the matter; but you know we can't be too circumſpect.

I'd have got any thing if I'd have taken the other ſide, but you muſt know I don't like ſome folks principles.

Sir, I am much obliged to you for the pre⯑ference you have given us, and hope to ſee you at the huſtings. In the mean time, here is a paper, which I beg you would read at your leiſure.

Tho' I can neither read nor write,

I'll make a ſhift to underſtand it. So no bribery, no corruption for me.

Mr. Proteus, gentlemen, deſires to be ad⯑mitted.

Shew him in.

I ſuppoſe, ſir, you are an elector?

I have ſix votes at your ſervice.

When can you bring them?

I can bring one every two hours.

I wiſh you could bring them in a body, as we want to cut ſome figure the firſt day upon the huſtings.

That's impoſſible, ſir, for I can't change my dreſs in leſs than an hour. I am firſt a houſe-painter, and the ſame coat, with the addition of a blue apron and a greaſy night-cap, ſerves me for a butcher. I then give my vote as a plumber and glazier; next as a barber, next as a baker, and laſt of all in the character of Ned Proteus, an humble retainer to the law, igno⯑miniouſly diſtinguiſhed by the name of a pettifogger.

Very well, Mr. Proteus; I wiſh you'd write down your ſix names for me, and the ſix different pla⯑ces of your abode, in the order you mean to give your votes, to preven any miſtakes at the polling.

This way, this way, mother; here is the Committee.

Gentlemen, I am come to attend you in proceſſion to the huſtings; my ſon and I have been on our canvaſs, and I have the pleaſure to inform you that our progreſs has been wonderful.

Uncle, ſuppoſe I make a motion to put my mother in the chair? I think ſhe'd fill it better than any of the company.

What, you dog, would you expoſe your mo⯑ther?

Gentlemen of the Committee, I humbly move that my mother takes the chair.

Oh heavens! what has the raſh boy propoſed!

Her ladyſhip to the chair!

Zounds! ſure ſhe won't take it?

Well, Gentlemen, ſince you will have it ſo, I will be your temporary preſident.

Now, Mrs. Preſident, you muſt give us a round of bumper toaſts, and I'll forfeit you a glaſs of ſalt and water, if you leave a heeltap behind you.

I muſt decline, dear George, all man⯑ner of concern in regard to the etiquette of your liba⯑tions, but in a judicial capacity I will freely examine into the validity of your votes.

For the Preſident of the Committee.

And don't you ſee the Preſident, you great booby?

What, Madam Highflight!

Come, mother, read it out, for it's Committee buſineſs.

Zounds, this is Titledeed, my attorney! this is ſome great man he has prevailed upon to aſſiſt me with his intereſt, for he ſays that no man can do ſo much.

With your leave, brother, I take the gentleman recommended to be a brother attorney.

But, mother, you know he ſays he's worth his weight in gold; then who knows but it's ſome rich Jew that's come to lend us money?

Tell the gentleman to come in.

Now behave, George, to the gentleman, with the greateſt politeneſs.

Ecod I know who it is! Did you take no⯑tice of the words, "certain perſons upon certain oc⯑caſions?" He docs not care to ſpeak out; it's Lord Pollall: Titledeed promiſed to ſpeak to him about his intereſt.

Lord Pollall! oh heavens! I muſt be [21]ready to receive him.

Why, bro⯑ther, did not you advertiſe me of this?

Well now, for my part, I don't like Lords; I'm a cunning fox, and perceive they are not ſo lucky at elections.

Here comes his Lordſhip.

Who the devil is this?

A butcher!

Ay, this is the Marquis of Leadenhall⯑market.

What do ye all ſtare at, like ſo many ſtuck pigs? which of you is the Preſident?

Now for it: here, ſir, here ſhe is.

What, that gentlewoman?

Yes, friend, I am the Preſident, and beg you would remove our ſuſpenſe by letting me know by what means you came by Lord Pollall's letter?

Lord Pollall who the devil is he? I ne⯑ver heard of his name before.

Perhaps you got it from his footman?

His footman! I got it from old Titledeed. I was juſt going to ſee ſome fine calves, when he hoiſted me and ſeven more into a waggon at Temple-bar, and made me come here to viſit you.

Very much obliged to you, for paying us a compliment in preference to the calves: may I crave your name?

My name is Marrowbone; ſo crack your jokes upon that, if you pleaſe.

What, my old friend, Marrowbone, of Clever-alley? I had almoſt forgot you; I have not ſeen you ſince you and I raiſed the laſt mob at Brentford.

Your intereſt muſt be very great, for Ti⯑tledeed ſays that you can raiſe any number.

So I can, at a whiſtle; I'll have a mob round the huſtings, in five minutes, that will let no⯑body vote but whom they pleaſe; and burn the poll⯑books, if you think proper.

Upon my word, Mr. Marrowbone, though you may not be worth your weight in gold, you are worth your weight in braſs, at any election.

I can darken any man's day-lights, at a blow, have every mob in the kingdom at my com⯑mand— but all in the way of trade, and for the good of old England; for I hate bribery, d'ye ſee me, and undue influence.

Now, Mr. Marrowbone, we are all come to a perfect underſtanding, ſir; and if you will ſtep to the kitchen, all my intereſt, boil'd, bak'd, and roaſted, is at your ſervice for your kindneſs.

Good bye, Gooſe.

Good bye, Marrowbone.

Upon the iſſue of this day depends the whole happineſs of my life. I have ſpared neither expence nor attention to ſtrengthen my intereſt, and have ev'ry reaſon to hope and expect ſucceſs.

Suppoſe you ſhould ſucceed, how do you propoſe conducting yourſelf?

If your couſin loſes his election, I'm poſitive your father will never give you to him: therefore, in that caſe, he may liſten to my ſuit again.

Oh, fortune and love, ſhine propitious to us! But, dear Belfield, be aſſured that, though you loſe the object of your purſuit in one reſpect, no power of my father's ſhall ever force me to become another's.

My heart, my ſoul, my life are your's.

My father has ſitted a little place for me and my acquaintance to ſee the election; there I'll watch my dear Belfield with an anxious heart, that ſhall ſend up prayers from Love's own altar, in ſilent ſighs for ſucceſs to you, Adieu! Fortune attend you!

Belfield for ever, huzza!

Ar'n't you a piece of our cloth?

No; I'll make affidavit you bribed me.

Pray, ſir, may I crave the pleaſure of knowing who you vote for?

Belfield.

All journeymen for the ſame maſter, I ſind.

Make way, make way there for the Candi⯑date —make way.

I am not going to make my ſpeech yet; I'm only come to ſpeak to my friend Gooſe.

Huzza! no bribery, no corruption.

Pray, ſir, may I crave the pleaſure of know⯑ing your name?

Oven.

May I ſolicit, Mr. Oven, the upper-cruſt of your intereſt?

I'm engaged; Belfield for ever!

Belfield garters, Belfield garters!

O, I wiſh he was hung up in them.

Highflight pippins! Highflight pippins! choice pippins!

Ecod I have found a friend at laſt.

Do not croud ſo much about the huſtings; there will be no room for the electors to come and give their votes.

This popular aſſembly is a glorious ſight to a patriotic ſoul! Here we may behold old Rome again.

Damn old Rome, ſay I! what's old Rome to Old England?

Brother, brother, remember and vene⯑rate the race of heroes that ſprung from that antique ſtock.

You are a very antique ſtock yourſelf, and you have not produced a juſtice of peace yet.

Remember Regulus, who nobly ſacri⯑ficed himſelf for the people, and returned to Carthage; call to mind the Brutus who ſlew Tarquin, and freed his country; reflect on the conduct of Curtius, who voluntarily jumped into the fiery gulph to cloſe it.

I wiſh to the Lord ſomebody would jump into your fiery gulph and cloſe it. 'Sdeath, you'd make a man mad! Inſtead of jabbering ſo much about old Rome, and old fellows nobody cares twopence about but yourſelf, why don't you exert your intereſt among the electors, and try how many of theſe honeſt fellows you can get to give you plumpers.

Make way, make way, the Candidates are coming on the huſtings.

Oh hone! this tune is my own country⯑man, and is wiſhing me joy of my election, before I am returned.

I have not a word of my ſpeech yet by heart.

Silence. O yes, O yes, O yes, there are three candidates have offered themſelves to repreſent this borough, of whom two only can be returned. I am, by order of the ſheriff, to call over their names, and you are to ſignify your approbation or diſapproba⯑tion as each candidate is named, by the holding up of your hands. God ſave the King.

Huzza!

Gentlemen electors, permit me for once to forget the little delicacies of my ſex, and with the boldneſs of a Roman matron to addreſs the plebeians, the tribunes, and the patricians of this aſſembly.

Zounds! ſhe ſpeaks as if ſhe was addreſſing deputies from the Four Nations; the Squaws, the Catabaws, the Mohawks, and the Cherokees.

I am not come the herald of my ſon's panegyric; his deeds muſt ſpeak for him; but if he's bleſſed with the parts of his father, his mother need not bluſh to own him.

Hear her! hear her!

Indulge me one word, generous ple⯑beians.

Ay, ay, go on, go on.

When Titus Veſpaſian ſat down be⯑fore the walls of Jeruſalem—

I wiſh to the Lord you were ſat down before the walls of Jericho!

For ſhame, brother!

Well, go on, it will be the ſooner over.

When Titus Veſpaſian ſat down before the walls of Jeruſalem, a Roman matron brought her ſon to him, a fine youth, as my George may be; I, like the venerable matron, married for the good of the ſtate; ſo take the offspring of a patriotic Hymen into your ſervice. The widow, like me, had but one branch to beſtow; and would, for your ſake, we had both been more fructiferous!

Huzza!

Dam'me, if ever I thought it was in her! ſhe ſpeaks as bold as if ſhe had been put 'prentice to the town-cryer.

If this ſpeech was two yards longer, I could have heard it.

Gentlemen, before I go any farther, I beg leave to take up the lady, but all in the way of good manners, for I know ſhe can take me down again if ſhe pleaſes. 'Tis true, I am by birth an Iriſhman, but I was bred and born in England, and I believe I am the firſt of my countrymen who ever met oppoſi⯑tion from a lady. I could ſay a great deal to her upon liberty, and the enjoyment of a free trade; but when⯑ever an Iriſhman talks upon the ſubject, he's ſtruck dumb.

I am very glad to hear you are ſtruck damb, for now I'll ſpeak my ſpeech.—Gentlemen—

Why I've not done yet.

I thought you ſaid you was ſtruck dumb.

Och! my dear, that was only with gra⯑titude, for what my country owes to the generoſity of England.

Huzza! O'Shannon! O'Shannon!

By the honour of a man, I believe I have ſpoke my ſpeech before I have ended it; or elſe my friends have forgot to liſten to what I had further to ſay to them.

I am afraid this fellow will make a bull, and carry his election.

I ſhall ſay no more, gentlemen; but if I loſe my election I ſhall decline the poll; and ſo great a reſpect have I for you all, that I'll act the part of a faithful repreſentative, though I never am returned to a ſeat in parliament.

Now my boy, George, muſt come forward; how I tremble for him!

Now George, my boy, ſpeak out boldly. Gooſe, ſtand behind him; I hope we ſhall bring him through with honour.

I am all of a twitter; O, uncle, O, mother, dear Mr. Gooſe, if I want a word help me out.

On boldly, my boy, and we'll ſupport you.

Gentlemen, the very great honour of your repreſenting me in parliament—

You are ſpeaking contradictions.

I am ſpeaking contradictions, gentlemen, but I hope my family will aſſiſt me.

What the devil has your family to do with the matter?

What the devil has my family to do with the matter?

George, George, have you forgot your ſpeech?

Let me alone, my uncle's prompting me. I firſt imbib'd theſe patriotic ſentiments from my fa⯑ther; and hope, like my uncle, to carry them to the grave with me.

Why, you dog, you're all abroad, you are in Nova Scotia, from the point.

I am now, gentlemen, going abroad, to Nova Scotia.

You had beſt travel, next, to Newfound⯑land.

I ſhall next, gentlemen, travel to New⯑foundland.

This looks as if our young candidate was determined to take poſſeſſion of the cod and whale fiſheries.

For I am determined to take poſſeſſion of the cod and whale fiſheries.

Promiſe to beat the Congreſs rebels.

And I'll take the whole Congreſs priſoners in the Tower—now, uncle—now—what is next?

O, dam'me, I have done with you.

And then, O, dam'me, I have done with you.

No Highflight, no Highflight!

Sit down, ſit down, for ſhame!

I'll diſinherit you, you dog, if you open your lips farther.

Go on, go on.

Go on! go on, indeed! you have made a fine kettle of fiſh of it amongſt you; you have knock'd every word of that damn'd Scotchman's ſpeech out of my head; and ſo, gentlemen, as I have no more to ſay, at preſent, I beg you would conſider of it, and turn me out a member of par⯑liament.

Ay, ay; turn him out, turn him out; no Highflight, no Highflight! Belfield for ever!

We have loſt the day—but I'll ſtay and hear what this Belfield has to ſay for himſelf.

What ſhall I do! I am aſham'd to ſtay upon the huſtings; and I am afraid of my mother if I leave them.

Silence, hear Mr. Belfield, hear Mr. Bel⯑field ſpeak!

Gentlemen, I ſolicit your ſupport, this day, to be returned one of your repreſentatives; becauſe I conſider the confidence of the people to be the higheſt poſlible honour an Engliſhman can boaſt. It is repoſing the moſt ſacred truſt in him; from the moment he receives it, he becomes guarantee to the people for the ſafety of their deareſt rights; and can⯑not neglect or betray them without criminality. If he acts the faithful ſervant, his wages will be pre⯑cious; for he will be paid with the love of his coun⯑try. [33]Whatever my ability be, it ſhall be exerted in your ſervice; no private views, of intereſt or ambi⯑tion, ſhould influence the ſervant of the people; he ſhould drop ſelf, and all the meanneſs of its depen⯑dant paſſions; and feel, think, and act only for the good and proſperity of the commonweal. If choſen, by your free voices, I pledge myſelf to act upon this broad ſcale of honour and truth; and though my ta⯑lents may want ſplendor to dazzle in my country's cauſe, the integrity of my heart ſhall remain its in⯑corruptible champion.

Huzza! Belfield for ever! Belfield for ever!

Oh! if I could ſpeak like that fellow!

It's all over, I ſee—he ſpoke like an angel.

Uncle, what ſhall I do now?

Decline the poll; for I'm ſure you have no chance of being returned this bout.

Oh, diſgraceful! he ſhall ſtand his ground, and if it's only to run them to expences, we'll have a ſcrutiny.

Mr. Cryer, my uncle ſays I muſt decline the poll, and ſo you may bawl out, if you pleaſe.

Silence! One Candidate having declined the poll, the ſheriff has declared Richard Belfield, Eſq and Roderic O'Shannon, Eſq duly elected.

Huzza! huzza! huzza!

Oh, uncle, won't you forgive me, and I'll ſpeak better next time.

Out of my ſight; you dog, never come into my houſe.

Then I'm turned out of both houſes, the parliment houſe and my uncle's houſe.

Mr. Belfield, I wiſh you joy of your election. Nay, believe me, I am ſincere; your excellent talents have made a convert of me.

Sir, you overwhelm me with ſurprize and pleaſure.

I'll dine with you to-day.

You'll be the chief gueſt, dear ſir.

And you ſhall dine with me to-morrow, and by the union of your and Letitia's intereſt, have a ſon that deſerves to ſit in parliament.

What, then, is my ſon inſulted, ſlighted, and caſt off?

What, then, am I to be forſaken?

Come, my young Roman.

I am no young Roman—I am an old En⯑gliſhman —ſo come along, mother, for my friend Gooſe has got another borough cut out for me.

I wonder what the devil bewitched me as to ſuppoſe that great calf, my nephew, could ever cut a ſigure as a public ſpeaker. But, Belfield, give me your hand, which here I join with Letitia's, and [35]thus make atonement for my folly—my crime I ſhould rather ſay, for to attempt impoſing on the peo⯑ple an incapable repreſentative, is high treaſon againſt the conſtitution.