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tory of the Exchequer, with thousands of others, | History of Party-who since the same period were bribes for corrupting the tribunals of law, our Lord Chancellors and other judges, minor for evading punishments. The presents given isters of State and other officials; who were coloto Queen Elizabeth and to many of her prede- nial governors and judges? Let the history of cessors may be considered as bribes for royal party,-of elections,-of votes in Parliament, refavours-often for obtaining bare justice. veal the secrets of place and patronage! The most able and learned judges accepted bribes. How sorrowful is it to read in the history of our country that the father of modern philosophy-the great Bacon, one of the most able and learned of English judges-was charged with having, and that he even acknowledged to have, received large bribes.

Bribery has not for a long period been either offered to, or accepted by the learned judges who preside over our tribunals of justice; but, in other respects, during the last century, corruption was almost universally practised. The Kings bought statesmen, clergymen, authors, and other public men. Walpole considered every man was, in some way, completely open to corruption. He no doubt acted on that perfidious system of temptation, to the fascinations of which we believe there were splendid and numerous exceptions. But the success of his own bribery and corruption almost justified his dictum, that all men had their price.

How did the men vote who once sat for the sixty-six boroughs, which were annihilated by schedule A. and for those reduced to return only one member, instead of two members? Why they all, together with those elected by the eighty to one hundred still remaining rotten boroughs, were either place-men themselves, or they were the steady voters of either one or other of the two great parties who divided the politics of the country,or they were bribed, seduced, and corrupted, by the party in power, to desert the party out of power.

Has the Reform Act cured the public corruption? No! it has scarcely moderated the bribery! the results of the last general election have placed on record a monstrous catalogue of black revelations,-of bribes, perjury, and corruption; of bribery and intimidation by Whigs, Tories, Peelites, Derbyites, and Irish Brigadists,-by officials, lawyers, and priests.

In England and in Ireland, the bribery, corThe press has not only itself been often, though ruption and intimidation, were at very many not always, corrupted, but it has been used as an elections, conspicuous and shameless. From Scotengine of corruption and misrepresentation. Bri- land there was but one petition against a sitting bery and corruption were rife and systematic member, and that has failed. Scotland, the former during the government of the notorious Cabal rotten borough of the Butes and Dundases, has ministry of Charles II. Both were used as sys-not, at least in her parliamentary elections, tematic engines of power during the reigns of exhibited corruption since 1832-Scotland may Anne, and the four Georges. Pitt, Dundas, and have many other sins to atone for; but so far, Castlereagh, practised unscrupulous bribery in her representative independence has for twenty corrupting the three Kingdoms. years been maintained.

Pitt had his inducements for bribing and corrupting the English constituencies. Dundas bribed and politically demoralized the whole of that (until after the Reform) one great Rotten Borough, known in history as the ancient kingdom of Scotland. Castlereagh and others corrupted the whole Irish Parliament; which however, was only elected by a fraction of the Irish, the qualified protestants.

Well, how have Ireland and the Irish acted since 1832? Certainly not as if the nation were instructed or tempered for practical constitutional government! O'Connell was useful until after the Catholics were emancipated from political disabilities on account of religion,-afterwards he did not a little mischief. Can any one prove that he has left a trace of good for Ireland behind him? Can any one point out any practical good accomFox and the whole of the aristocratic Whigs, plished by the Pseudo Irish Patriots, called the bribed and corrupted the Prince of Wales. They Brigade? We believe not,-Ireland wants more made him a rebellious son and a debauchee. He than any other nation, the unity of her people as regent and king disavowed, shunned, and for practical usefulness-not unity for the purhated them. He indeed never loved any one. He poses of mere legislative and administrative obhad no affections but for those who ministered to struction. Her political priests are a scandal to his sensualities. their Church; not but that the Irish have just Kings and Lord Chancellors bribed even through complaints-not but that there is another Church the Church-men in holy orders received livings rich in revenues, and demanding reforms of evils from both, by the influence of party men with the which the great majority of the Irish people have Crown and the ministry. All official appointments the most just cause to complain of, as grievously were political, not impartial. The colonies, In- oppressive. Touching this Church, and some other dia, the revenue departments, the army, the navy, real, not imaginary Irish grievances, we will were all under subservience to political bribery speak at another time-in a separate article. But and corruption. The judicial benches were do bribery, intimidation, and corruption prevail at bribes, greedily sought after by, and scarcely the Irish elections? Certainly! If the secret were ever given to any but to political partisan lawyers. revealed of the seat in the north of Ireland, which Who and what were our Archbishops, Bishops, was transferred by a pretended Liberal to a member Deans, Prebends, Canons? Who and what were of Lord Derby's Government, it would in all the Peers created since the first years of the probability prove the sale of a whole constituency

by a retiring (?) member, to a minister in power. | after, be as renowned for its immorality and corIntimidation, riots, and the authority of the ruption, as it was anciently for its pilgrimages priests, were however far more conspicuous and and its miracles. It would truly require many a quite as disgraceful as bribery, during the last saint and many a miracle to render Canterbury general election in Ireland. immaculate.

Well, let us turn to England? We do believe that even during the whole administration of Walpole, the Minister who actually salaried Members, there never was more corrupt bribery and intimidation than during the last General Election. There were not merely two or three W. B.'s and A. S.'s, there were legions of such; but they were understrappercriminals. A digest of the evidence on the Derby, Canterbury, Chatham, and Plymouth election petitions, would indeed form a curious volume-a memorial of Derbyite recklessness and electioneering corruption. Liverpool, if we mistake not, will prove still more profligate. Who were Mr. Forbes Mackenzie's committec-men? Did any one draw a check for ten thousand pounds, to corrupt? no, but to bribe the always corrupt freemen of the old slave-trading port. Was there a man with a fat purse, who was led to hope that he would be created a baronet? Was his lady amused by the Halls of Knowsley "looming in the distance" for her reception? We will say no more, but wait to hear the revelations that will assuredly be made before the Committee on the last Liverpool elections.

The Canterbury revelations are, however, at present, the most glaring. Poor Lady Conyngham did not, however, either by her tears, or her money, succeed in returning her son-in-law for the city of St. Augustine and St. Thomas à'Becket. The archiepiscopal city may, indeed, now and herc

Bribery and corruption will, no doubt, continue to be practised. There will still be a thousand ways to bribe and corrupt, aye, and to intimidate too! The Tories have notoriously practised these means-the Whigs have done so all have done so, in degree. But none have beat the Derbyites. In their political sport they have been as reckless off the turf, as they have in their racing and betting on the turf.

If we cannot prevent, can we moderate bribery, intimidation, and corruption? The Ballot may prevent intimidation-not bribery, consequently not corruption. Extension of the Suffrage may, in some degree, abate bribery-Universal Suffrage would not! Will stringent laws and heavy penalties prevent bribery? Experience tells us no! The only really extensive, though not perfect remedy, would be to have no mere borough representatives at all. Let each county include all the towns-let the whole population of the county and towns, for example, Middlesex, Yorkshire, Lancashire, Lanarkshire, each return their fair share of Members. Let there be none of those vendible voters—miscalled freemen. Let each qualified elector, in town or county, have as many votes as the whole number of Members for the county, including its towns; and this plan would, in a great degree, prevent bribery and corruption. Let the voters have the Ballot, also, to prevent intimidation.

LEAVES FROM THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.

THE FLYING HORSE.

A TALE OF CASHMERE.

Canto the Second.

"There's something in a flying horse !"—
WORDSWORTH.-Prologue to Peter Bell.
Of all the sad swains that sigh under the sun,
Conceive yourself reader the fortunate one,
That's just stepping out of a carriage and pair
At the porch of St. George's in Hanover Square;
With, under your wing,

A "gushing young thing,"

And snug in your waistcoat the guinea gold ring.
And further, suppose
That just as you rose,

At the clinching "amen," from your knees to your

toes,

And the gushing young creature was blowing its nose,
The pompous old beadle, with business-like stride,
Pushed Mamma and Papa cavalierly aside,

And seized the small waist of your horrified bride;
And, without more ado,
Complacently flew

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T'was noon by the sun,

Ere, gloomy and dun,
The forests of strange Japan

Rose out of the sea;

"Now, harkee to me,

Young gal!" the nigger began :

"Dat howlin's quite horrid, and 'taint no good!

Don't holler, they say, till you're out of the wood,

Wal now-of all woods dat I ever come near

She could not speak-she only sprung
And clasped him round the knee;
Her frightened eyes and cheeks all hung
With tears were sad to see.

"Wat's dis?" the filthy negro cried;
"How dare you sare! dis gal's my bride!
Go 'long you ole varmin,

Trot back to your farmin'

Down yonder's the last where you'd make people hear, 'Cause, look you, I'm goin' to whip her a sarmin ;

'Cause nobody lived there-never! Dere's nothin' but monkies and green cockatoos,

You can 'splain it all clear to 'em, 'course if you choose,
But it don't seem worth yer endeavour.

It's plum in the middle I mean to pitch,
How happy my pet will be,

In her neat little wig-wam of hickory-switch,
A-sitting on Sambo's knee:

With nothin' to do

De honey-moon through,

But fondle him nicely, and tell him how true

She loves him all down from de crown to de shoe!
Dere's cocoa-nut milk for her drink so sweet,
Dere's heaps of nuts for missy to eat;

De little buzz-bee

Live top of de tree,

Me scramble to fetch her down honey for tea:Here-dis a good place

To light from our race;

Now missy-give Sambo a kiss on de face."

Indignant from the horse's back

The proud young Princess sprang,
And smote the nigger such a crack
That his ebony jawbones rang.
"Wretch! stand aside!"
She sternly cried,
"Black poodle-headed thief!
I, such a devil's nut-fed bride!
Not if as many threats he tried
As corn-seeds in the sheaf!
Stand off! beware the tiger-taught—
The daughter of Bengal!"

"Come! none of dem 'ere tricks of court,
Dey don't suit here at all,"

The ruffian said:-" dere's time enough;
Me just go rind a stick :-
If missy still cut up so rough,
High time dis gal to lick!

Ha! wat dat sound? dat nebber come
From any bird I know!

'Pears like a screamer cotched in gum;
Ha! cuss, what bugles blow?"
He'd hardly spoke when horse and hound
Came crashing through the wood,
With yelp and bound and bugle sound,
Towards where the lady stood.
The foremost on a raven steed,
A square-set peppery man

Was yet, as well the Child could read,
The lord of all Japan.

For I have heard and count for true,
That royal eyes can tell
Their equals all disguises through,
Such grace in kings doth dwell.
The monarch reined his raven steed,
And raised his hunting cap;
"Can aid so sweet a Princess need?
Or what auspicious hap
Brings one so lovely to Japan,

Where strangers touch so seldom?
And who-why gallows take the man!
Is that unwashed he-beldam?"

She want's it most precious,
She's regular vicious:

I reckon I'll break her in raal judicious:-
I allers do just what I please with my wife."

"Oh, you do!" said the King-" so do I with my knife, So look out a-head!"

With a crack and a squash To grass went the ravisher yelping "O gosh!" He kicked up his heels and he turned up his eyes, And in short, as they say in the Tragedy, [dies.] Alas, now I think of it,-Horace declares Bad people should always be killed below-stairs: And that ever, for fear the discerning should criticise, Rank blood you should carefully curtain from Pity's

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her stays,

And tried, but in vain, her sweet eyelids to raise,
Till finding her dumb as a German polony,
They trotted her home on a little black pony.
The horse in the meantime stood sober and coy,
Like the gift of Minerva when wheeled into Troy;
What the deuce could its use be and how it came
there

Quite baffled conjecture. At last, in despair,
They settled to carry it home in a cart,
As a nice little nut for anatomy's art;
"Fum Owen," said they, "will jump out of his skin,
To see such a promising mammal brought in ;
He's the man for our money,-so handy and quick!
He cries all day long for more subjects to stick.
Gad! in five minutes' time from the knife at your
throttle

Your skeleton's picked and your tripe's in a bottle!"

A broad and royal chamber,
The dawn-light slanting in,
Through panes of Orient amber,

As if one smile to win;
One waking smile from her who lies-
Deep sleep upon those curtained eyes!
Around her fragrant pillow,

A bower of plumes and gold
Droops like a glittering willow;
And still in slumber's fold,

She stirs not, though the sunbeams, now,
Have trembling kissed her queenly brow.
Hark! trumpets in the palace court,

Their clear and gay reveillée flinging;
And bang! the cannon from the fort
Set all the pictured windows ringing,
And roar to all the tower bells

To loose their clamorous tongues to-day:-
She wakes at last, as hoarsely swells,
Down street and square, one grand "hooray!''
Around her couch a maiden train,

On bended knees present their duty,

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'You'll meet him in the Peacock Hall!"

"Meet whom?" she asks, "whose halls are these?
What boisterous mirth is yonder, pray?
What guns and bells?" "Oh, dear, ma'am, please
Remember 'tis your wedding day!
They say his highness did not sleep

One mortal wink the livelong night;
And twice upon the floor did leap,

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Each time exclaiming, Hold me tight!
Don't let me dart her dreams to break!'

Ah! what a husband, ma'am, he'll make!" What bondage is rhyme! Why just here I'd lay down A large sum of money-to wit half a crown,

To be loose for five minutes and tell you in prose
What grief in the Child's pretty bosom arose;
What thoughts of the Prince! O, it's cruelly hard
To shamble along like a handicapped bard,
While three-volume tinkers plod recklessly by:-
No abbey for them though,-no, no! when they die!
A sad fix was hers, because Kings of the East
Don't stand upon trifles-in courtship at least;
And boldly condense all the usual twaddle

To "will you, or won't you? a nod or a noddle!"
She felt that to stave off her destiny sad,
But one way was open,-at once to sham mad.
Now, in England, there's nothing more easy on earth;
You needn't indulge in ridiculous mirth;
Tilburina's white satin, Ophelia's sad song,
Mrs. Bloomer's pink breeches, are all far too strong.
You've simply some innocent victim to smother,-
A child three weeks old is as good as another,-
Or, coaxing your sweet-heart to walk in the garden,
Tuck a knife in his brisket, and then beg his pardon,
And lo, the deed's done! all the jury in chorus
Will snort, 66
How inhuman to bring her before us!
Bah! stop the defence! 'Twas a lunatic's act,
Our verdict, at once is, Not Guilty 'cause cracked."
The Princess, however, who lacked opportunity,
Or, perhaps, didn't care to cut throats with impunity,
Went mad in her own way; she slapped her maid's
faces,

Began to munch ribbon, kid gloves, and stay-laces,
Cried out for an omlette of toadstools and rum,
And finished by quietly sucking her thumb.
Dumbfoundered, her horrified handmaidens ran
For the chief palace-doctor,-a learned young man.
He came-put the usual questions, "for luck,"
She gave him no answer, but quacked like a duck:
That settled the business: "Alas, it's too plain!"
He muttered—" Her ladyship's clearly insane;
My questions are all so provokingly parried,
I doubt but she's even too mad to be married!"
Bright burned the King's anger on learning

state

Of one he'd been pleased to select as a mate.
Gloomily growling he stalked to and fro,
With his hands in his pockets as far as they'd go,
Then sent for the doctor,-" I wish you to know,"
Said he, "if the lady's not well in a week,
Your neck it's our royal intention to tweak:
It's just kill or cure inan, and perfectly fair;
I like to be candid, so Bolus beware!"
Poor Bolus went out with a terrified squint,
Right sorely dismayed at this practical hint:

He bled her, he cupped her,-blue bottles and red
Prescribed without ceasing, and blistered her head;
In short, all the orthodox changes were rung,
Till the end of the week, and then Bolus was hung.
The cry was,
more doctors!" more doctors there
came,

But signally failed the young lady to tame;
And daily some leech, as the patient grew worse,
Who called in his carriage, drove home in a hearse,
Demolished the Hall of those medical men.
Enraged at such failures, his Majesty, then

To jail went the College;-their ears were all clipped,
They were privately blistered, and publicly whipped:-
Each day, at the hands of the hangman, they quaffed
A fine, frothy goblet of double black-draught;-

-"The discipline's rough, but the fault is your own," Said the king, "I must raise your professional tone." As a final resource, he bade Heralds proclaim, Through all the wide land, in his Majesty's name, "Volunteers to the front! Any bold amateur, Who fancies he's able the Princess to cure, May drop in and do it. In case of success, Her weight in pure gold will but faintly express Our sense of his merit. In case he should mull it, We shall weigh him himself-with a rope round his gullet."

"But how about the luckless Prince?"

say;

I hear some reader
"Pray what has he been doing since
The Indian soared away?
Perhaps he sought an early grave,

From youth's bright hopes debarred;
Or did he simply stamp and rave?
Out with it, master Bard!"

I'll tell you. On first
Comprehending the worst,
The yells he sent after that Indian accurst
Were something quite awful;
Indeed such a jaw-full

Of terms that in Bow Street are voted unlawful,
And cheap at five shillings, you'd really have thought
He couldn't in youth have been properly taught.
On cooling, however, he clearly perceived,
'Twasn't thus that the maiden could well be retrieved:
And wisely remarked, "If the Child I can't follow,
At least she shan't think that my love is all hollow;
But follow I will!"

In those days, you should know,
Mere gentlefolks didn't a travelling go:
No cockney had ever yet ventured a stroll
On the banks of the Rhine, or beheld the Tyrol;
Mr. Smith, of Mont Blanc, had he lived at the time,
Would have scaled Shooter's Hill when in want of a

climb,

Or, may be, indulged in a heart-broken moan For Albion's white cliffs on the beach at Boulogn At present our troubles are sorely increased, When each travelled monkey tells tales of the East. the In short, it was everywhere quite understood, A tourist, as such, could be after no good; I'll simply allude to the scrapes of Lord Bateman, For which, vide passim, the life of that great man. A pilgrim passed freely, and so did a pedlar, But every one else was a "spy" or a "meddler." Our hero accordingly purchased a "pack,”— Brushed his hat the wrong way, turned his shitcollars back,

Put a pipe in his mouth and his gloves in his pocket,

And went to a general dealer's to stock it.

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Because, if he does, he'll get more than enough;
Suffice it to say-that convenient old phrase!—
The Prince drove away in a bagman-like chaise;
And caring but little where Fortune might lead,
Like honest Don Quixote, left that to his steed.
Towards the end of the day,
He reached a great bay,

Where lay a stout Indiaman bound for Cathay;-
The Captain was bawling,
The sailors were hauling,

Or flourishing shoreward, their hats of tarpaulin ;-
"May be,” cried the Prince, "these fine fellows will

fall in

With her whom I seek! I'll at once volunteer;
Twill be fifty times better than suivelling here!"

He did. Says the mate, "You young shaver, avast! You must mind how you haul or you'll fetch down the mast!

You sleek whipper-snapper, why what good are you? No matter, go for'ard! we're short of our crew.

If you don't pull your pound, lad, you'll dance at the gangway,"

He added, and swore a good deal in a slang way,
With divers allusions to "timbers" and "eyes,'
That shore-keeping readers would rather surprise,
And made though they wouldn't be pretty to read—
The Prince go below, very nervous indeed.

Some weeks had gone by since that fine afternoon,
When down on their course came a frightful typhoon.
It roared through the rigging and thrashed them
about,

The mate had his eyelids blown clean inside out,
The bulwarks were stove and the water washed in,
Till the men at the pumps were all up to the chin;
In short, to save life-they could hope for no more-
They put the helm up, and so ran her ashore.

The Prince, who instinctively snatched up his pack,
When he found all the timbers beginning to crack,
(At such dreadful times, as you've probably read,
The queerest of fancies come into one's head,)
Reached land on a grating; but scarcely had set
His foot on hard ground, before, sneezing, and wet,
He was pounced upon, pummelled, and gagged like
a felon,

With outrages perfectly painful to dwell on ;—
Now, listen, young man,

Your foot's in Japan!"

They shouted, "Ah! get it away if you can!
Come, try it at once, for you've no time to spare;
It's not so much longer that noddle you'll wear!"

They led the wretched youth away
Before a pig-tailed beak;

"Now, stranger, hast thou aught to say:
If so, you'd better speak!

Our laws are death to those who land
Within these isles of ours;

It seems they caught you on the strand

A Pedlar by the powers!

Unstrap his pack

From off his back,

And what the wares may be

That brought him thus
To trade with us,

We'll very quickly see!

Ha! snuff and tobacco:-a smuggler, I'll swear!

Rouge, thimbles, pins, tweezers--hem! dyes for tho

hair!

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"If that be your object, the King's Proclamation
Commands us to pass you without molestation;
But hark ye! they tell me the lucky man's fee
The weight in pure gold of that lady will be;
One-half, my young pill-box, is ample for you;
The rest must reward me for letting you through :
Should you ever return, with your head on its socket,
Remember, I've that little claim on your pocket!"

Albeit the Prince was puzzled sore,

He wisely answered, "Done;
When next we meet on yonder shore,
We halve the gold I've won :
Meanwhile, I'd thank your Lordship
To make my bearings clear,
For, as we say aboard ship,

I don't see how to steer."

The palace gates are gained at last,
The drawbridge cleared-the sentries passed:
"From foreign lands across the sea,

I come to work a cure," said he;
"Where is the lady? show me in,
And let the charm at once begin."
Outspake the palace-porter,

A very friendly man,
"To come across the water

Was but a simple plan,
Because you might have died at home,
Nor ever braved the roaring foam.
"Yon skulls that peel and blister
In the sweltering noon-day sun
Could not one bit assist her,

But came off one by one:
Aye, all you doctors fare alike,
There won't be soon one empty spike.
"Between the homœopathist,
Who grins there on the right,
And yon poor damp hydropathist,
Who only died last night,

Your head will hang to-morrow morning;-
Al-well! if you will take no warning,-
Go in and welcome: that's the door,

And there's the lady, on the floor!

66

Fly Doctor!" cried the Princess-"fly!

I can't be cured! it's vain to try!

Hence, pounder, with your pills and pack I'm mad-I know it! quack, quack, quack! Don't stay, I charge you on your life!

I'll never be the monster's wife!

What, linger still? . . . . Good gracious, yes!

I know him in his pedlar's dress!

My darling Prince! I am so glad!
My dearest, I'm not really mad!”
Quite needless were it to persist

In tearing from such scenes the veil;
The happy couple hugged and kissed,
No doubt-but that's beside my tale:
I do not rhyme to that dull elf,'
Who never did such things himself.

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