she hinted a
wish to hear Seymour Austin's opinion of Mr. Tuckham. He condensed it in
an interrogative tone: 'The other extreme?' The Tory extreme of Radical
Nevil Beauchamp. She assented. Mr. Tuckham was at that moment prophesying
the Torification of mankind; not as the trembling venturesome idea which
we cast on doubtful winds, but as a ship is launched to ride the waters,
with huzzas for a thing accomplished. Mr. Austin raised his shoulders
imperceptibly, saying to Miss Halkett: 'The turn will come to us as to
others--and go. Nothing earthly can escape that revolution. We have to
meet it with a policy, and let it pass with measures carried and our
hands washed of some of our party sins. I am, I hope, true to my party,
but the enthusiasm of party I do not share. He is right, however, when he
accuses the nation of cowardice for the last ten years. One third of the
Liberals have been with us at heart, and dared not speak, and we dared
not say what we wished. We accepted a compact that satisfied us
both--satisfied us better than when we were opposed by Whigs--that is,
the Liberal reigned, and we governed: and I should add, a very clever
juggler was our common chief. Now we have the consequences of hollow
peacemaking, in a suffrage that bids fair to extend to the wearing of
hats and boots for a qualification. The moral of it seems to be that
cowardice is even worse for nations than for individual men, though the
consequences come on us more slowly.'

'You spoke of party sins,' Miss Halkett said incredulously.

'I shall think we are the redoubtable party when we admit the charge.'

'Are you alluding to the landowners?'

'Like the land itself, they have rich veins in heavy matter. For
instance, the increasing wealth of the country is largely recruiting our
ranks; and we shall be tempted to mistake numbers for strength, and
perhaps again be reading Conservatism for a special thing of our own--a
fortification. That would be a party sin. Conservatism is a principle of
government; the best because the safest for an old country; and the
guarantee that we do not lose the wisdom of past experience in our
struggle with what is doubtful. Liberalism stakes too much on the chance
of gain. It is uncomfortably seated on half-a-dozen horses; and it has to
feed them too, and on varieties of corn.'

'Yes,' Miss Halkett said, pausing, 'and I know you would not talk down to
me, but the use of imagery makes me feel that I am addressed as