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the electors, that he was unfit to be a delegate, but he could not deprive him of the mind and manners of a gentleman,-(he was right, a man can never be deprived of what he never posses sed,) in both of which he was convinced that his rival was woefully deficient. (The reader must recollect the vulgar adage of the pot and kettle.):
On the twelfth day, the poll was similar to that of the preceding day. Mr. Peter Bore opened the ball, by decrying Billingsgate language, in language which would have disgraced Billingsgate!
Merryman thanked the electors, and congratu. lated them on his, or rather their triumph, as lie termed it, as they were to be benefited by it, and not himself. He particularly expressed his gratitude to the females of every description, for he did not believe that there was one single woman, at least not one good-looking one, who was not on his side. (There were some of those hireling beauties who infest the lobbies of theatres, unquestionably, on his side.) He added that if he were to notice all the lies, which malice and impudence had sent forth against him, (what
language from the lips of a person, who, only the day before, had boasted himself possessed of the mind and manners of a gentleman!) he should only waste his breath, which he should keep to cool his porridge, since he had secured it so snugly.
Sheers retorted, that since the treasurer was so degraded as to utter the most gross falsehoods, he wondered that he was not ashamed to shew his face. (He should have said the copy of his face, for the original had never made its appearance-at least on the public stage.) lle charged Peter Bore with boring the steward for a pension, and hoped that Brownbread was not going to barter his senses for a place in the Ilospital for Incurables.
We will not disgust the reader by wading through a repetition of these gross indecencies and fulsome adulations, intended to tickle the ear of the swinish mullitude, and cajole them out of their senses, which were almost the sole property left them. At the close of the poll, Bonnet and Merryman were declared to be the successful candidates. The household had supportad Merryman, not through love or respect, but
because he had wholly forgotten his former rant about placemen, pensioners, and corruption; and they dreaded the vociferation of Sheers, who had denounced eternal war against the two former, and declared that he would join to lay the axe to the root of the latter. • Reader. But where, Mr. Author, was the independence of the electors?
Author. Many had their independence at the end of their tongues, and uttered it with their votes, according to the honest dictates of their. conscience : more had it in the bottom of their pockets, where it lay smothered by treasurybills, orders in the way of trade, notices to quit their houses, &c.
Reader. The Freelanders were certainly a very aggrieved and oppressed people; but it was their own fault; the laws had defined their rights, and they ought to have displayed a proper firma. ness and determination to suffer no encroachments upon them.
Author. Hark, Reader !--Look at home! Remove the beam from thine own eye, before thou offerest to pluck the mote from thy. brother's.
Reader. Right enough-) understand you Pray, proceed with your story.
The successful candidates mounted a triumpbal car, which had been prepared at Merry. man's theatre, and they were attended by all the rabble of it, as well as by a possé of constables and peace-officers, to protect the popular Mr. Merryman from the tokens of the populace's regard. The people are always in extremes, and the only way they could deviseon this occasion, of testifying their respect for their favourite, Crispin Merryman, was by sending such a shower of mud, dead dogs and cats, at the triumphal car, that the laurels with which it was thickly covered, (these honour's probably having been foreseen,) could scarcely defend him from some of these marks of popular approbation. After parading about the manor in triumph, the household candidates adjourned to an inn, to drink success to constitutional elections, and independent electors!
The Reader. Pray, Mr. Author, what did men of sense pot the senseless rabble think of all this corruption, mockery, and insult ?
Author. Why, amidst the vociferation of the people, a sober clector addressed them in the words of the old frog in the fable, when a misehievous urchin was pelting himself and his compamons with stones :-“ This may be fun to you, my young thoughtless Sir ; but it is death to us!”