say you may find such persons, but I don't for a moment insinuate that my worthy and honourable friend opposite is one of them-if he will allow me the honour of calling him my friend. [Here Mr. Egoe rose and bowed very politely to Mr. Vanston, who, on the other side, bowed again, after which they met each other half way as before, and very cordially shook hands. Immense cheering, &c. &c., as before.] Well, gentlemen, having stated to you that I won't promise, I now beg to let you know what I will perform. And, in the first place, I think it necessary to make a frank and fearless avowal of my principles of those principles which have regulated my past life, and which shall also regulate my future; for, gentlemen, I beg to say that I am no trimmer. I and every member of my family are of the same political creed. Be assured there are no apostates among us. No, no. We do not divide ourselves in order to have a double chance of the good things that may be going among the Whigs and Tories."

[Here Mr. Egoe rose and asked— "Does the honourable gentleman mean anything personal by these insinuations?"

To which Mr. Vanston replied— "Does my honourable friend feel that my words apply to him, or any member of his family?"

Mr. Egoe. I beg to say, certainly not."

Mr. Vanston." Then I beg, of course, to say, that I made no allusion of a particular nature-I spoke generally."

Mr. Egoe. "Then I beg to say, that if the honourable gentleman did not speak particularly, but generally, I am perfectly satisfied." (Great cheering.)

Mr. Vanston proceeded-"I am, gentlemen, a friend to all classes of my countrymen; and no man would or shall go farther to serve them than myself. I am a friend to my Roman Catholic fellow-countrymen, all of whom I would and shall serve, whenever and wherever I can; but I am at the same time bound to say, that whilst I like the man, I do not approve of his principles. I do not agree in, or sympathize with his creed, nor the politics which it teaches him-and why? because the principles which it teaches him are such as would lead him and his whole party to establish, if they had the power, an oppressive and exclusively Catholic

ascendancy, where the many would keep down the few, whereas I amand I glory to say it-I am for a Protestant ascendancy, where the few, thank God, are able to keep down the many. These, gentlemen, are my principles so far; but it is monstrous for the Romish community to expect to put themselves in our places, which they would do if they could, but which I hope they will never live to accomplish. Church and state, then, gentlemen-Church and State, and Protestant ascendancy, are my honest principles, with a fixed determination to support them at the hazard of my life, for I am one of those men who have already fought to defend them, and who am ready and willing, should the occasion ever come, to fight as before, for the Protestant hearths and altars of my country. And, gentlemen, by G-d he is no honest Protestant who would not. No; I protest I would not sit with, or recognise as an acquaintance, much less as a friend, the cowardly knave, being a Protestant of course, who would not defend both with his life, for the sake of our holy religion. My honourable opponent, gentlemen, has put many questions to me in the course of his speech, which I said I would answer; for indeed I am not so churlish as to refuse information to any man who, because he is conscious of his ignorance, is not a whit ashamed to ask it. He asks me, for instance, how I voted on a certain question, and I reply, that I did not vote at all; and for the best reason in the world, because it so happened that I was not in Parliament when it came on, a circumstance which clearly proves to you all that the honourable gentleman, whatever he may be distinguished for, is at least not distinguished for a good memory. And I simply throw out this as a hint, that I think every man who deals largely in promises, ought to be gifted with the very thing which he wants, such a memory as will prevent him from forgetting, among other matters, the multitude of promises which he is in the habit of making. Gentlemen, he alludes to a law that has been made in the session that has just closed, which imposes a fine upon the innocent instead of the guilty.

"It is true he opposed the law in parliament; but, gentlemen, there is a class of men who oppose certain measures, not I believe with a hope of de

feating them, but because they know they will pass, and that they may, whilst they wish them well, enjoy at the same time all the credit of patriotism. Of course I do not say that this is the case, or was the case, with my honourable friend; all I can say is, that I have it from good authority that he helped to draw up the bill in private, which he so strongly and patriotically opposed in public. And further, gentlemen, I think I can say that a certain Commissioner of Excise, who shall be nameless, but who is not at least a perfect stranger to the honorable gentleman, was the individual who got the bill alluded to drawn up, and had it introduced into the House of Commons. So much for that transaction; and I now beg to state in reply, that I would have honestly voted against so preposterous a bill, if I had been in parliament."

Mr. Egoe. May I beg to ask, why the honourable gentleman lays such a peculiar emphasis upon the word honestly?"

Mr. Vanston.-" Because it is my habit so to do. Honesty, especially political honesty, is so rare a thing in this world, that whenever we chance to meet with it, or even to hear of it, we are bound to speak of it with as much emphasis as possible." (Cheers.)

Mr. Egoe." Had the honourable gentleman no other motive?"

Mr. Vanston.-"I think we are here, not to explain motives, but to state principles. If the honourable gentleman is not satisfied with this reply, let him come to me at a proper time and place, and he shall have any further satisfaction that I can give, or he may require; but at this time, and in this place, I must decline to give him any further information on the subject. Gentlemen, the British constitution is a glorious constitution, and I for one am not, nor ever will be the man to strive, by forming a coalition with its enemies, to destroy the integrity, and diminish the strength of the empire. I am not a patriot, gentlemen, in the usual acceptation of that obnoxious word; but I trust I am what is still immeasurably better-an honest man, who feels neither afraid nor ashamed to avow my principles, and

who, whatever may betide, will never be found voting against a bill which I privately aided in planning and drawing up, so as to meet all objections that might be urged against it. I name nobody, gentlemen, nor of course, you know, do I make any allusions-but the truth is that that worthy and maligned gentleman called Nobody, has more matters of this kind to answer for than all the any bodies and every bodies in the universe. Of course, gentlemen, Nobody did this, and it is only against him that I throw out the insinuation. But, gentlemen, I have already stated, that although I do not relish the religious or political principles of my Roman Catholic fellowcountrymen, yet this circumstance does not, nor ever shall, prevent me from rendering them, publicly and privately, both as a man and a politician, every service in my power that is consistent with the integrity of the British empire, and the safety of our glorious constitution, as it is established at present in Church and State. Is not this fair? Could any reasonable man expect me to vote, or in any other way work against my own principles-for, thank God, gentlemen, I have principles. And now, gentlemen, having fairly stated these opinions and principles, I trust I may calculate upon your independent support. I am not, as you know, a man of promises, nor of mere words, but a plain man of work and action. As such I offer myself to you, and I have no doubt that the close of the election will find me where I aspire to be, and where I know your votes and support can place me.'

Having concluded this harangue, a new row took place, more outrageous and fierce than any that had yet occurred. The pulling, the dragging, the knocking down, the throttling, and the barbarous ruffianism and violence which characterized the tumult, could not be described in suitable terms; nor would the description gratify the reader, even if it could.

Several other speeches were made; but as they all have the usual and uniform characteristics of violence and recrimination, we shall pass them over, and proceed to describe the other general features of the Election.

In those fine old times there was a

complication of machinery in the conduct of an election, which our readers will look upon with surpirse, if not with incredulity. The friends, for instance, of the respective candidates had each their own peculiar task assigned them. The expenses of the whole election were generally divided between them, each man paying one-half; and in those days it usually happened that the longest purse was only another name for the best cause. The usual course was to select some experienced, ripe, old villain, to marshal all the organs of corruption according to their capacities, and, indeed, to conduct the Bribery Department in general. As, however, each candidate had a committee-room, where his friends were always assembled to issue orders, draw up addresses, concoct plans, and write squibs, we shall take the liberty of introducing the reader to that of our friend Egoe, in order that he may have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the operations of the honest and independent electors who were there engaged.

On that occasion, were assembled about two dozen, or perhaps thirty, of the late member's warmest supporters, including a sprinkling of priests, who forgot the peaceful spirit of their calling, and most of the decencies of life itself, in the headlong and insane violence of religious bigotry and party feeling. Egoe himself, we put out of the question, the truth being, that he on the one side, and Vanston on the other, were mere impersonations of political depravity, and simply stood forth as its representatives, rather than as men whom the people had honestly and freely approved.

Egoe's right-hand man was an old skilful manoeuverer, named Nicholas Drudge, of Gooseberry Lodge, who, having much practice in the best and safest methods of purchasing votes, was appointed to manage this difficult department, without either rule or stipulation, everything, of course, having been left to his own prudence and diseretion. No man could select a better staff of agents than Nick, who, from long experience, was acquainted with every elector in the county, and could tell the nature of his franchise, from the gooseberry-bush to the property of the Fifty-pound Freeholder.

There was only another man in the county worthy of comparison with Nick, and that was Billy Burnside, a

man who, in point of fact, was equally notorious with Drudge, for the adroitness and chicanery which are so essential in the management of an election. Burnside was supposed to be a still better economist than Nick, and to be able to bribe as many with thirty pounds, as Nick could with fifty. The two worthies, in fact, were not dissimilar, either in personal appearance or in political qualifications, and were consequently hand and glove with every man of any note in the county, as well as with each other. Nick was a broad, weather-beaten, red-faced fellow, with a knowing, but by no means a sinister expression of countenance, unless when he became particularly confidential, and then his face puckered itself into such a varied and multitudinous exhibition of knavery as could seldom be witnessed. The mouth was small, but hard and unscrupulous; his chin and cheeks were intersected by the strong lines of cunning; move them as he might, there lurked in his eye such a disguised consciousness of his own successful duplicity, and power of overreaching, as rendered his countenance, in connection with the habits of his life, absolutely a thing to be admired. He was a round, portly-looking man, and possessed a singular, indeed a peculiar facility, not merely of expressing himself, but also a felicity of insinuation, that rendered him almost beyond all price at an election.

Burnside, in figure, somewhat resembled him, as he did also in countenance, the only difference being, that nothing, so far as the eye could infer, but the blandest good humour, and the frankest honesty that ever broke in smiles from the sunshine of a good fellow's face, could be perused upon his. In fact, they looked very like counterparts of each other, and we question whether there could have been found in the country two persons capable of attributing, without a long discussion, any superiority in their respective qualifications to either one or the other. Next in importance to Drudge, was Captain Blaze, who, in common with most of the gentry on both sides, came duly prepared with a case of duelling-pistols. Blaze was a distinguished fire-eater, who had been concerned, either as principal or second, in about twenty-seven "affairs," and was thought to be the most au fait in such matters, of any man in the

kingdom. Blaze was what might not inaptly be termed, Chairman of the "Intimidation Committee," that is to say, he undertook not only to fight himself, but to drill and regulate the rioters, so as that the outrages might be most judiciously distributed in different parts of the town, with a view to produce the greatest possible quantum of intimidation upon the irresolute and timid.

Third in degree may be named Larry O'Ladle, who had been cook to old Egoe, but who, for several years, was proprietor of the "Tare-an-ouns Tavern," an establishment long under the patronage of the Egoe family, who rewarded their faithful old domestic by installing him as its major-domo, in connexion with a good farm of land, which, to say the truth, made it an exceedingly comfortable thing for O'Ladle whose province at elections was to regulate the potwallopers-to fall back upon. Each of these men was of course the leader of a particular class; but we are not now about to enumerate the hardened and hacknied squad, of which that class was constituted. In addition to these, there was a long array of relations and personal friends on each side, all of whom left nothing corrupt or dishonest undone, to promote the interests of their respective candidates.

On this occasion our friend Blaze seemed rather sulky and out of sorts, both with himself and every one about him.

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What the deuce is the matter, Captain?" asked a cousin of Egoe's; "you're pouting like a woman. What's wrong, you old fire-eater? I hope you're not afraid of fighting Grimes.' I'm told he says he won't allow this battle to pass without having a shot at you."

"I am not at all satisfied," returned Blaze; "I have been left in the dark too much. Curse me but Egoe's getting penurious; I fought three duels for him at the last two elections, and he had the meanness to refuse me his acceptance for three hundred pounds, after the thing was done."

"Did he promise?" asked Hetherington, his cousin, aforesaid.

"If he did not, his agent Drudge here did," replied Blaze; "however, I must see my ground better this time."

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What promise did I make you?" asked Drudge.

"I said," replied Blaze, "that he (Egoe) must give me his acceptances for three hundred in case I fought." "Well?" asked Drudge, "proceed." "Why," returned Blaze, 66 you winked at me with one eye, and said, 'Mum's the word between friends,' and squeezed my hand."

"And, you pinking old sinner, doesn't every one know that that's the signal for a do. Did I squeeze the right-hand knuckle of your middle finger, or cry, Wauchob's the man?”

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No," replied Blaze; "but I took it for granted you wouldn't humbug me in such a manner."

"Did you, though? Faith, and you were never more mistaken in your life; in such a case I'd humbug my grandfather, and the twelve apostles at his back."

"Very well," replied Blaze, sulkily; "deal with Grimes and Robinson as you best can-I know they're determined on fighting. Let matters turn as they may, curse me but I hate ingratitude and want of common honesty; and I say Egoe deserves nothing at my hands but contempt-let him fight himself."

"So he will, noble captain, should circumstances render it necessary," said his cousin ; "he wouldn't be his father's son if he refused to fight. But I don't think, Blaze, you have any right to complain; you fought three duels-very good-you were paid fifty pounds for each-and, considering that two of them were directly of your own production, I don't think you have any right to complain."

"I'll tell you what," said Drudge, "if you promise to pay Blaze fifty pounds per duel, may I be hanged but he'll fight through the whole opposing party; and, unless he happens to be sent to perdition before his time, a very handsome affair he'll make of it."

"Mr. Drudge," said an agent, "I wish to have a few words with you."

"Come, Mark, my boy, something good's in the wind when you appear; what is it?"

"Why, the Forties from the Black Cosh are coming down on Thursday morning, about a hundred-and-twenty of them, to vote for Vanston; and you know if they do we're dished."

"Not a doubt of it; but what's to be done ?"

"I don't know-I was thinking of a riot, and to get out the military."

Why, you see, by getting the military out, we might make the fellows take refuge in a lugger that's lying ready for them in the harbour; we might get them under hatches, you know, go out to sea, and keep them snug there till the election's over."

But will you be able to manage all this?"

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Why, I'll try. Give me three hundred pounds; I want also about fifty intimidators, and I say, once for all, that none but hardened and determined fellows will do me-ruffians every one of them. You are not to suppose that fifty alone would do me, but these fellows must act as agitators and leaders, to influence the mob. It'll require nice management."

"It will; but it's in good hands, Mark, when it's in your's. I'll depend on you."

If I fail, I can't help it I want some flash notes."

"This is a good thought; you won't pass them, of course?"

"Perhaps not; but we can, when hard pushed, just show the word "fifty” for instance in a clean wisp of notes, as a hint of the value to be received, and when the note is given, we then slip in a good note, not for fifty pounds, but say for fifty shillings, or some five or ten pounds, and the thing is done, and cannot be undone. We labour, by the way, under one advantage, which is, that the progress of bribery always travels slowly, no man being willing to proclaim his own disgrace, or publish his own villany."

"Mr. Drudge," said a third person, approaching, "we've got the clothes all ready, but the tailor says he won't lave them unless he's ped for them, and for one-half of what he furnished at the last election."

"Give him something to stop his mouth; I believe the miserable scoundrel was not paid, certainly; however, give him something, and promise well. By the Lord Harry, there is nothing but open robbery in this villanous world. Here now is a scoundrelly knavish tailor, who charges three prices for the new frieze dresses ordered by the Personation Committee, which in this case happens to be Larry O'Ladle, Esq., and myself. Here, O'Ladle, you potwalloping villain, what's the matter about this frieze? This Pricklouse says he wasn't paid. Now, on second thoughts,

did I not give you money to pay him at the last election ?"

"Maybe so," replied Larry, with a grin; "but it's the present election we're spaking about. Maybe you did give me money to pay In, and maybe afther all that the divil a penny of it ever reached him."

"And what could have become of

it?"

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Why, what has become of the snow we had last year? The money! Have you any doubt, Mr. Drudge, but that it stuck by the way?"

"Ay, but where did it stick, you confounded knave?"

"Why thin is it axin' a confounded knave where it stuck, you are? Troth he'd be a confounded fool if he tould you."

"Ah, then, O'Ladle, he that would purchase you for a fool, would make the devil's bad bargain. Manage it with the snip as well as you can. How do you stand for wigs ?"

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Throth we're hard enough run, sir; but it's a great thing that the Bishop" stands to us so regular. Be my soul, he's the best 'Forty' we have."

"What Bishop?" asked one of the gentlemen present; I don't understand him now."

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Why," said Drudge, "there's an old man called Paddy Corrigan, a protege of the Bishop of B's, who receives from his lordship the munificent present of a cast-off wig every year. Now Paddy, you must know, who's a great friend of mine, lends me the wig, at every election, and by the assistance of it we are able to disguise the personators, so as to avoid detection."

"Very fair and very honest," said the inquirer; "and I suppose similar practices take place on the other side."

"Quite as ingenious," replied Drudge. "By the way, I've got a hint that Burnside has invented a new wig altogether, which promises to work wonders so perfect, I'm told, that a man getting it on wouldn't know himself in a looking-glass."

"And all this," said the inquirer, "to aid the purity of election ?"

"To aid the purity of election, that glorious principle on which our free, independent, and incorruptible electors ground their proudest boast. Ha, ha, ha!"

"Can such a shameful state of things be ever changed?" asked a very