Given in our Club-room, this twenty-eighth
day of July, A.D. 1821.
THE UNION CLUB.
A.D. 1823.
The Union Club, of rhetorical fame,
Was held at the Red Lion Inn,[9]
And there never was Lion so perfectly tame,
Or who made such a musical din.
’Tis pleasant to snore, at a quarter before,
When the Chairman does nothing in state,
But ’tis heaven, ’tis heaven, to waken at seven,
And pray for a noisy debate!
“What’s the question?”—“Reform.” “What! the old story!”—“Yes, the old story; the common good against the Commons’ House; speechifying versus starvation!” “Oh, but you’re a red-hot Radical?”—“Yes, that’s my key; every man is red-hot who is deep read!” “Reform in Parliament?”—“Yes, the only thing men are agreed upon; for the Outs can’t carry it, and the Ins can’t bear it.” “Infamous! split me!”—“Order, order! Gentlemen will be so good as to take their seats. The question for this evening’s debate is: ‘Would Reform in Parliament have been conducive to the welfare of the country at any period previous to the year 1800?’ To be opened by Mr. Pattison of St. John’s.”
And the honourable opener immediately mounts his hobby, and proceeds at a rapid rate over a level road, panting and blowing like a courier. Off he goes! Mounts[Pg 220] at Magna Charta, breakfasts with the Long Parliament, dines with William and Anne, and finds himself comfortably at home in the state of the nation.
[10]“We have heard of a time, Mr. President, when England was the envy and the terror of the whole world; we have heard of a time when commerce flourished, and the quartern loaf was sold for a penny-halfpenny; but these things are now altered; bread has risen, as stocks have fallen; we lose time in debates, and we lose men in battle; and are not all these things owing to Mr. Pitt? Unfortunate man! he had it in his power to make his country happy, and he has left it miserable; all of it encumbered with penury and taxation, and half of it fettered by a damnable religious restriction. Yes, Mr. President, from the fear of rebellion and revolution, the Protestants are wretched and spied upon; and from the dread of the Holy Alliance, the Pope, the Pretender, the Arch-Fiend Napoleon, and the Devil, the Catholics are oppressed and persecuted.”
Here the honourable member is jerked from his hobby by an orthodox hiss from the corner, and he sits down among the comments of the crowd. “What do you think of the opener?”—“Why, I think he’s all
Public debts,
Epithets,
Foul and filthy, good and great,
Glorious wars,
British tars,
Beat and bruise
Parlez-vous,
Frenzy, frown,
Commons, Crown,
Ass and pannier,
Rule Britannia!—
How I love a loud debate!”
Then the Church shakes her rattle, and sends forth to battle
The terror of Papist and sinner,
Who loves to be seen as the modern Mæcenas,
And asks all the poets to dinner.