the hearer. Provided that
their beer was unadulterated! Beer they would have; and why not, in
weather like this? But how to make the publican honest! And he was not
the only trickster preying on the multitudinous poor copper crowd,
rightly to be protected by the silver and the golden. Revelations of the
arts practised to plump them with raw-earth and minerals in the guise of
nourishment, had recently knocked at the door of the general conscience
and obtained a civil reply from the footman. Repulsive as the thought was
to one still holding to Whiggish Liberalism, though flying various
Radical kites, he was caught by the decisive ultratorrent, and whirled to
amid the necessity for the interference of the State, to stop the
poisoning of the poor. Upper classes have never legislated systematically
in their interests; and quid . . . rabidae tradis ovile lupae? says one
of the multitude. We may be seeing fangs of wolves where fleeces waxed.
The State that makes it a vital principle to concern itself with the
helpless poor, meets instead of waiting for Democracy; which is a
perilous flood but when it is dammed. Or else, in course of time,
luxurious yachting, my friend, will encounter other reefs and breakers
than briny ocean's! Capital, whereat Diana Warwick aimed her superbest
sneer, has its instant duties. She theorized on the side of poverty, and
might do so: he had no right to be theorizing on the side of riches.
Across St. George's Channel, the cry for humanity in Capital was an
agony. He ought to be there, doing, not cogitating. The post of Irish
Secretary must be won by real service founded on absolute local
knowledge. Yes, and sympathy, if you like; but sympathy is for proving,
not prating . . . .

These were the meditations of a man in love; veins, arteries, headpiece
in love, and constantly brooding at a solitary height over the beautiful
coveted object; only too bewildered by her multifarious evanescent
feminine evasions, as of colours on a ruffle water, to think of pouncing
for he could do nothing to soften, nothing that seemed to please her: and
all the while, the motive of her mind impelled him in reflection beyond
practicable limits: even pointing him to apt quotations! Either he
thought within her thoughts, or his own were at her disposal. Nor was it
sufficient for him to be sensible of her influence, to restrain the
impetus he took from her. He had already wedded her morally, and much
that he did, as well as w