Note 5, page 64, line 24.

Samson is grace, and carries all alone.

Whoever has attended to the books or preaching of these enthusiastic people, must have observed much of this kind of absurd and foolish application of scripture history; it seems to them as reasoning.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER V.

ELECTIONS.

Say then which class to greater folly stoop,
The great in promise, or the poor in hope?

Be brave, for your leader is brave, and vows reformation; there shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny; and the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops. I will make it felony to drink small beer: all shall eat and drink on my score, and I will apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree like brothers; and they shall all worship me as their lord.

Shakspeare's Henry VI.

The Evils of the Contest, and how in part to be avoided— The Miseries endured by a Friend of the Candidate-The various Liberties taken with him, who has no personal Interest in the Success-The unreasonable Expectations of Voters The Censures of the opposing Party-The Vices as well as Follies shown in such Time of Contest-Plans and Cunning of Electors-Evils which remain after the Decision, opposed in vain by the Efforts of the Friendly, and of the Successful; among whom is the Mayor-Story of his Advancement till he was raised to the Government of the Borough-These Evils not to be placed in Balance with the Liberty of the People, but are yet Subjects of just Complaint.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER V.

THE ELECTION.

YES, our Election's past, and we've been free,
Somewhat as madmen without keepers be;
And such desire of freedom has been shown,
That both the parties wish'd her all their own:
All our free smiths and cobblers in the town
Were loth to lay such pleasant freedom down;
To put the bludgeon and cockade aside,

And let us pass unhurt and undefied.

True! you might then your party's sign produce,

And so escape with only half th' abuse;

With half the danger as you walk'd along,

With rage and threat'ning but from half the throng:
This
you might do, and not your fortune mend,
For where you lost a foe, you gain'd a friend;
And to distress you, vex you, and expose,

Election-friends are worse than

any foes ;

The party-curse is with the canvass past,
But party-friendship, for your grief, will last.
Friends of all kinds, the civil and the rude,
Who humbly wish, or boldly dare t' intrude;
These beg or take a liberty to come,

(Friends should be free,) and make your house their home;
They know that warmly you their cause espouse,
And come to make their boastings and their bows:
You scorn their manners, you their words mistrust,
But you must hear them, and they know you must.
One plainly sees a friendship firm and true,
Between the noble candidate and you;

So humbly begs (and states at large the case),
"You'll think of Bobby and the little place.”

Stifling his shame by drink, a wretch will come,
And prate your wife and daughter from the room:
In pain you hear him, and at heart despise,
Yet with heroic mind your pangs disguise;
And still in patience to the sot attend,

To show what man can bear to serve a friend.
One enters hungry-not to be denied,
And takes his place and jokes—“ We're of a side.”
Yet worse, the proser who, upon the strength
Of his one vote, has tales of three hours' length;
This sorry rogue you bear, yet with surprise
Start at his oaths, and sicken at his lies.