‘Gentlemen, as long as a _full Gazette_ is pleasant to the _quidnunc_; as long as an empty purse is delightful to the spendthrift; as long as the cry of _Question_ is a satisfactory _answer_ to an argument, and to outvote reason is to refute it; as long as the way to pay old debts is to incur new ones of five times the amount; as long as the grand recipes of political health and longevity are _bleeding_ and _hot water_—so long must you rejoice in the privileges of Mr. Christopher Corporate, so long must you acknowledge from the very bottom of your pockets the benefits and blessings of _virtual representation_.’ This harangue was received with great applause, acclamations rent the air, and ale flowed in torrents. Mr. Forester declined speaking, and the party on the hustings proceeded to business. Sir Oran Haut-ton, Baronet, and Simon Sarcastic, Esquire, were nominated in form. Mr. Christopher Corporate held up both his hands, with his tankard in one, and his pipe in the other; and neither poll nor scrutiny being demanded, the two candidates were pronounced duly elected as representatives of the ancient and honourable borough of Onevote. [Illustration: ‘_Hail, plural unit!_’] The shouts were renewed; the ale flowed rapidly; the pipe and tankard of Mr. Corporate were replenished. Sir Oran Haut-ton, Baronet, M.P., bowed gracefully to the people with his hand on his heart. A cry was now raised of ‘Chair ’em! chair ’em!’ when Mr. Sarcastic again stepped forward. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he, ‘a slight difficulty opposes itself to the honour you would confer on us. The members should, according to form, be chaired by their electors; and how can one elector, great man as he is, chair two representatives? But to obviate this dilemma as well as circumstances admit, I move that the “large body corporate of one” whom the Honourable Baronet and myself have the honour to represent, do resolve himself into a committee.’ He had no sooner spoken, than the marquee opened, and a number of bulky personages, all in dress, aspect, size, and figure, very exact resemblances of Mr. Christopher Corporate, each with his pipe and his tankard, emerged into daylight, who, encircling their venerable prototype, lifted their tankards high in air, and pronounced with Stentorian symphony, ‘HAIL, PLURAL UNIT!’ Then, after a simultaneous draught, throwing away their pipes and tankards, for which the mob immediately scrambled, they raised on high two magnificent chairs, and prepared to carry into effect the last ceremony of the election. The party on the hustings descended. Mr. Sarcastic stepped into his chair; and his part of the procession, headed by Mr. Christopher Corporate, and surrounded by a multiform and many-coloured crowd, moved slowly off towards the city of Novote, amidst the undistinguishable clamour of multitudinous voices.