their saddles, looking so fossil-like and
antediluvian. I can remember them more distinctly
than I can remember the earl's son, who was
a weak washed out young man, who looked
foolish, and stammered in his speech; but
who for all that was the representative of
our intelligent community in parliament. I
think that if I had been presented with the
earl's son's " turn out," I should have followed
the example of the Emperor of China, who,
when George the Third made him a present of a
state coach, bundled the coachman inside, and
sat on the box himself. I should have much
preferred to be the postilion in the red jacket,
to being the son of the noble earl. On that
half holiday, we boys did not indulge our
imitative propensities in making a stammering
speech like the earl's son; but in riding on
chairs like the postilions. I confess, even now,
that in after life I met with postilions who
interested me more than many members of
parliament. And yet I know the names of the
uninteresting members of parliament, and don't
know the names of the interesting postilions!

I was casting my jackets when my second
election occurred. The earl's son was again in
the field; but the earl in the mean time, having
got into difficulties and mortgaged part of his
property, there was opposition. It was necessary
for the earl's son to bestir himself. For some
time previous to the election he went about
among the tenantry, flattering them, making
them little presents, and kissing their pretty
daughters. Being a clansman of the earl's, and
a nine hundred and ninety-ninth cousin, I was
enlisted in the service. I was rigged out from
top to toe in a suit of tartan—the tartan of our
clan—and thus arrayed, and mounted upon an
ancient grey mare, I accompanied the earl's son
as an outrider. I had rather a pleasant time of it.
I came in for a great deal of haggis and mince
collops and whisky, and where there was more
kissing than my chief could do I helped him out
with it. In that tartan suit—it was bright red—
and on that spanking grey mare, I felt that
I shot through the land like a fiery meteor. I
was very impartial, and kissed the old women
as well as the young women, and without
vanity, I do think they would have elected me
in preference to the earl's son, if I had not been
so very far removed from the heirship to the
property. We didn't bribe, we didn't hint at
ejection, or abatement, or increase of rent—the
earl was too honourable a man for that—we
merely flattered and condescended, and we kissed
and we prattled with all the fair maids, and called
each the fairest she, as the song says. We won
the election. It was a very innocent affair, and
I wish I had never seen any worse mode of
canvassing for votes.

But we may all learn, if we will, from
what we see in a general election time, that
except in very special cases, it is money not
merit that makes the member of parliament.
It is vain and useless to try to do without
corruption in some form or other. Andrew
Marvell may put up for parliament with the
virtuous resolve not to spend a penny; but if
he get elected you may be sure that his friends
have spent money for him. He bribes
vicariously; he cannot help it. The law holds that
the hiring of committee-rooms and cabs is not
bribery; but morally it is bribery, and bribery
of a mean, besotted, and degrading kind. I will
state exactly what has occurred in a certain
borough. I will suppose, for example, that
our two members are liberals, and that they
represent the general politics of the
constituency. We are quite satisfied with their
conduct in parliament, and we have no desire
to make a change. When, however, we heard
that there was not likely to be any legitimate
opposition to them, we said to ourselves, " This
will never do; we highly approve of our
representatives, and have the greatest confidence in
them; but we cannot allow them to walk over
the course. This has been a very dull season;
we must do something to cause a little money
to be spent, while there is a chance left." What
did we do? Why, we got a Conservative (hired
him from a club in Pall-Mall) to start in opposition
to the two liberals. What was the consequence?
The borough woke up, and money began
to fly. Committee-rooms were engaged, bills were
printed, agents were hired, and cabs chartered
by the score. You should have seen the swarm
of half-starved human rats that came out of
their holes the minute the opposition was
announced. They were all of the same pattern—
lean, and hollow-eyed, and red-nosed, rusty,
ragged, and mouldy, with a flavour of stale
spirits about them. They looked as if they had
never seen the light since the last election, and
had now just woke up from a seven years' sleep
and crept out of their holes to get a few more
half sovereigns and another dose of drink. They
were immediately engaged, at salaries ranging
from ten shillings to half-a-crown a day; some
as committee-men, some as canvassers, others
to run errands and distribute bills.

Our opposition was not a bogus candidate.
He was the real thing; had plenty of money,
and, if he had been elected, would have been no
discredit to the borough. But if a respectable
candidate had not come forward, we could easily
have found somebody to answer the purpose. An
Old Election Hand, whom we consulted, told us
that he could find a person—a public character,
too—who would stand for a ten-pound note;
but that the difficulty with such parties was to
get them to retire when they were no longer
wanted. The Old Hand had once given a radical
lecturer ten pounds to stand, and he had to give
him twenty to sit down again. During this
election time almost every third public-house
in our borough displayed bills, informing the
free and independent electors that So-and-so's
committee " sits here daily." Do you know
what those committee-rooms mean, what they
do in them? Well; first of all, they mean from
three to ten pounds a week in the pocket of
the landlord of the house; and next, they mean
a very large extra consumption of drink at the
bar. What they do in those committee-rooms?
The most presentable rat that can be found, is
stationed there in an arm-chair with a copy of