WHICH MAY SERVE TO SHOW, THAT TRUE PATRIOTISM¹ IS OF NO PARTY. The knight² had not enjoyed his repose³ above two hours, when he was disturbed by such a variety of noises, as might have discomposed a brain of the firmest texture⁴. The rumbling⁵ of carriages, and the rattling⁶ of horses’ feet on the pavement, was intermingled with loud shouts, and the noise of fiddle⁷, French horn, and bagpipe⁸. A loud peal⁹ was heard ringing in the church tower, at some distance, while the inn resounded¹⁰ with clamour, confusion, and uproar¹¹.
 
Sir Launcelot being thus alarmed, started from his bed, and running to the window, beheld¹² a cavalcade¹³ of persons well mounted, and distinguished¹⁴ by blue cockades. They were generally attired¹⁵ like jockies, with gold-laced hats and buckskin breeches, and one of them bore a standard of blue silk, inscribed¹⁶ in white letters, LIBERTY AND THE LANDED INTEREST. He who rode at their head was a jolly figure, of a florid complexion¹⁸ and round belly¹⁹, seemingly turned of fifty, and, in all appearance, of a choleric²⁰ disposition²¹. As they approached the market-place, they waved their hats, huzzaed, and cried aloud, NO FOREIGN CONNEXIONS!—OLD ENGLAND FOR EVER! This acclamation, however, was not so loud or universal, but that our adventurer could distinctly hear a counter-cry from the populace of, NO SLAVERY!—NO POPISH PRETENDER! an insinuation so ill relished²² by the cavaliers, that they began to ply²³ their horsewhips among the multitude, and were, in their turn, saluted²⁴ with a discharge or volley of stones, dirt, and dead cats; in consequence of which some teeth were demolished²⁵, and many surtouts defiled²⁶.
 
Our adventurer’s attention was soon called off from this scene, to contemplate²⁷ another procession of people on foot, adorned²⁸ with bunches of orange ribbons, attended by a regular band of music, playing God save great George our King, and headed by a thin swarthy personage, of a sallow aspect, and large goggling²⁹ eyes, arched over with two thick semicircles of hair, or rather bristles³⁰, jet black, and frowsy. His apparel was very gorgeous, though his address was very awkward; he was accompanied by the mayor, recorder, and heads of the corporation, in their formalities. His ensigns were known by the inscription³², Liberty of Conscience, and the Protestant Succession; and the people saluted him as he passed with repeated cheers, that seemed to prognosticate success. He had particularly ingratiated himself with the good women, who lined the street, and sent forth³⁴ many ejaculatory petitions in his favour.
 
Sir Launcelot immediately comprehended the meaning of this solemnity. He perceived it was the prelude³⁶ to the election of a member to represent the county in parliament, and he was seized with an eager desire to know the names and characters of the competitors.
 
In order to gratify this desire, he made repeated application to the bell-rope that depended from the ceiling of his apartment; but this produced nothing, except the repetition of the words, “Coming, sir,” which echoed from three or four different corners of the house. The waiters were so distracted by a variety of calls, that they stood motionless, in the state of the schoolman’s ass³³ between two bundles of hay, incapable³⁷ of determining where they should first offer their attendance.
 
Our knight’s patience was almost exhausted³⁸, when Crabshaw entered the room, in a very strange equipage. One half of his face appeared close shaved, and the other covered with lather³⁹, while the blood trickled⁴⁰ in two rivulets⁴¹ from his nose, upon a barber’s cloth that was tucked under his chin; he looked grim with indignation, and under his left arm carried his cutlass, unsheathed. Where he had acquired so much of the profession of knight-errantry we shall not pretend to determine; but certain it is, he fell on his knees before Sir Launcelot, crying, with an accent of grief and distraction⁴², “In the name of St. George for England, I beg a boon⁴³, Sir Knight, and thy compliance⁴⁴ I demand, before the peacock and the ladies.”
 
Sir Launcelot, astonished at this address, replied in a lofty strain, “Valiant squire⁴⁵, thy boon is granted, provided it doth not contravene⁴⁶ the laws of the land, and the constitution of chivalry⁴⁷.” “Then I crave⁴⁸ leave,” answered Crabshaw, “to challenge and defy to mortal combat that caitiff barber who hath left me in this piteous condition; and I vow⁴⁹ by the peacock, that I will not shave my beard, until I have shaved his head from his shoulders. So may I thrive in the occupation of an arrant⁵⁰ squire.”
 
Before his master had time to inquire into particulars, they were joined by a decent man in boots, who was likewise a traveller, and had seen the rise and progress of Timothy’s disaster. He gave the knight to understand, that Crabshaw had sent for a barber, and already undergone one half of the operation, when the operator received the long-expected message from both the gentlemen who stood candidates at the election. The double summons was no sooner intimated to him, than he threw down his bason, and retired⁵¹ with precipitation, leaving the squire in the suds. Timothy, incensed⁵³ at this desertion, followed him with equal celerity into the street, where he collared the shaver, and insisted upon being entirely⁵⁴ trimmed, on pain of the bastinado. The other finding himself thus arrested, and having no time to spare for altercation⁵⁵, lifted up his fist, and discharged it upon the snout of Crabshaw with such force, that the unfortunate aggressor was fain to bite the ground, while the victor hastened away, in hope of touching⁵⁶ the double wages of corruption⁵⁷.
 
The knight being informed of these circumstances, told Timothy with a smile, that he should have liberty to defy the barber; but, in the meantime, he ordered him to saddle Bronzomarte, and prepare for immediate³⁵ service. While the squire was thus employed, his master engaged in conversation with the stranger, who happened to be a London dealer⁵⁸ travelling for orders, and was well acquainted with the particulars which our adventurer wanted to know.
 
It was from this communicative tradesman he learned, that the competitors were Sir Valentine Quickset and Mr. Isaac Vanderpelft; the first a mere⁵⁹ fox-hunter, who depended for success in his election upon his interest among the high-flying gentry⁶⁰; the other a stock jobber⁶¹ and contractor⁶² of foreign extract, not without a mixture of Hebrew blood, immensely rich, who was countenanced⁶⁴ by his Grace of——, and supposed to have distributed large sums in securing a majority of votes among the yeomanry of the county, possessed⁶⁵ of small freeholds, and copyholders, a great number of which last resided in this borough⁶⁶. He said these were generally dissenters⁶⁷ and weavers⁶⁸; and that the mayor, who was himself a manufacturer, had received a very considerable order for exportation, in consequence of which it was believed he would support Mr. Vanderpelft with all his influence and credit.
 
Sir Launcelot, roused at this intelligence, called for his armour⁶⁹, which being buckled⁷⁰ on in a hurry, he mounted his steed, attended by Crabshaw on Gilbert, and rode immediately into the midst of the multitude by which the hustings⁷¹ were surrounded, just as Sir Valentine Quickset began to harangue⁷² the people from an occasional theatre, formed of a plank⁷³ supported by the upper board of the public stocks, and an inferior rib¹⁷ of a wooden cage pitched also for the accommodation of petty delinquents⁷⁴.
 
Though the singular appearance of Sir Launcelot at first attracted the eyes of all the spectators, yet they did not fail to yield attention to the speech of his brother-knight, Sir Valentine, which ran in the following strain:—“Gentlemen vreeholders of this here county, I shan’t pretend to meake a vine flourishing speech—I’m a plain-spoken man, as you all know. I hope I shall always speak my maind without vear or vavour, as the zaying is. ‘T is the way of the Quicksets—we are no upstarts, nor vorreigners, nor have we any Jewish blood in our veins⁷⁶; we have lived in this here neighbourhood time out of mind, as you all know, and possess an estate of vive thousand clear, which we spend at whoam, among you, in old English hospitality. All my vorevathers have been parliament-men, and I can prove that ne’er a one o’ um gave a zingle vote for the court since the Revolution. Vor my own peart, I value not the ministry⁷⁷ three skips of a louse, as the zaying is—I ne’er knew but one minister that was an honest man, and vor all the rest, I care not if they were hanged as high as Haman, with a pox to’ un. I am, thank God, a vree-born, true-hearted Englishman, and a loyal, thof unworthy, son of the Church—vor all they have done vor H——r, I’d vain know what they have done vor the Church, with a vengeance—vor my own peart, I hate all vorreigners and vorreign measures, whereby this poor nation is broken-backed with a dismal⁷⁸ load of debt, and the taxes rise so high that the poor cannot get bread. Gentlemen vreeholders of this county, I value no minister a vig’s end, d’ye see; if you will vavour me with your votes and interest, whereby I may be returned, I’ll engage one half of my estate that I never cry yea to your shillings in the pound, but will cross the ministry in everything, as in duty bound, and as becomes an honest vreeholder in the ould interest—but, if you sell your votes and your country for hire, you will be detested⁷⁹ in this here world, and damned in the next to all eternity⁸⁰: so I leave every man to his own conscience.”
 
This eloquent⁸¹ oration³¹ was received by his own friends with loud peals⁸² of applause, which, however, did not discourage his competitor, who, confident of his own strength, ascended⁸³ the rostrum, or, in other words, an old cask, set upright for the purpose. Having bowed all round to the audience, with a smile of gentle condescension⁸⁴, he told them how ambitious he was of the honour to represent this county in parliament, and how happy he found himself in the encouragement of his friends, who had so unanimously agreed to support his pretensions⁸⁵. He said, over and above the qualifications he possessed among them, he had fourscore thousand pounds in his pocket, which he had acquired by commerce, the support of the nation, unde............