ELECTIONS WITH ACCOMPANIMENTS.
(To the Member for Lincoln.)
It is, Colonel Sibthorp, as you say, a mean, dirty, shabby, and disgraceful measure—that Expenses of Elections Bill, which prohibits flags and bands of music at Parliamentary elections. Flags, no doubt, materially assist a thinking man in the process of deliberation, by which he determines on a fit and proper person to represent him in Parliament. But, waving the flags, let us more particularly denounce the prohibition of music. The proposal, of course, arose from an absence of music in the soul, and a fitness for treasons on the part of the revolutionist who originated it.
But abuse, Colonel, is not argument. Relinquishing the former, let us bring forward the latter.
Election music is an institution of our ancestors; and, you may say, was intended for the promotion of harmony between opposite parties. When it was first introduced, philharmonic art was in the state wherein it had been left by Saint Cecilia, and had not arrived at the perfection which it has attained to under M. Jullien. The wisdom of our ancestors was greatly in advance of their music; their common sense was acute, but their perception of sweet sounds obtuse; they had "a reasonable good ear in music," according to Bottom's idea thereof; let them have the tongs and bones—give them Bumper Squire Jones, Old Sir Simon the King, The Roast Beef of Old England, and the like, and they were content. Tunes that the old cow died of animated them: they were enchanted by melodies that now only charm the hearts of broomsticks. Elevated, however, they were by these old rugged but patriotic strains, and in a state of elevation they rushed to the poll, and did their duty as men and Britons.
But now, what with the performances at Exeter Hall and the Promenade Concerts, what with hearing Israel in Egypt, and Rigoletto, and Beethoven's Symphony in C. Minor, and Mozart's Requiem, and Pop goes the Weasel, the public ear has got educated, and looks down—if an ear can look, as perhaps it can in a state of clairvoyance—on a perambulatory orchestra of free and independent Britons: independent chiefly in their playing.
What then? Abolish election music? Do away with a great institution because it has been inefficiently carried out? No; to be sure. Improve it, in accordance with the requirements of the age. Don't put down election bands; but give them better music to play; not, Colonel, that I shall contradict you if you say that there can be none better than The Roast Beef, &c. Have pieces composed on purpose for elections; symphonies breathing loyalty and order together with a spirit of economy and retrenchment; pastoral symphonies expressive of the feelings of the agricultural interests; marches infusing into the minds of voters courage to resist attempts at intimidation: overtures of a lofty character, different from Coppock's. At Lincoln, where you could have it all your own way, you might cause to be performed music descriptive of dislike of the Whigs, and of want of confidence in Her Majesty's Government. There are, doubtless, musical effects representative of all human emotions; disgust, even, at the recollection of the Crystal Palace.
To prevent Ministerial jobbery, let the candidates have to find the music; composers as well as executants; base is the slave who cannot pay his expenses, and something more: like a gentleman, like yourself, and like
P.S. Solos to the tune of £. s. d. to be performed by any candidates who choose, as they have a right, to do what they like with their own. The Rogue's March would be an appropriate air to celebrate the next return of the Noble Lord the Member for London. Eh?