bring the touchstone to such a heart.

It was not strange that under such home influences public affairs should
sink into a secondary place in Richard Lincoln's mind. He hardly looked
at the newspapers, and he never expressed political opinions or
predictions. When he did speak of the government, it was with confidence
and respect. If he doubted or distrusted, no one knew.

For two years he had lived this quiet life; but, though he turned his
eyes from many signs, the astute and silent man saw danger growing like
a malarial weed beneath the waters of the social and political life of
his country.

One morning Patterson, his business partner, who was an excitable
politician, threw down his _Times_, and turned to Lincoln with an
impatient manner.

"We are going to smash, sir, with our eyes open. We are going to the
devil on two roads."

"Who is going to smash?" asked Lincoln.

"The country. See here; there are two rocks ahead, the aristocrats and
the demagogues, and which is worse no one can say. They are getting
ready for something or other, and the good sense and patriotism of
England stand by and do nothing."

"Has anything particular happened?"

"Yes; at West Derby yesterday, the Duke of Bayswater was elected to
Parliament, getting a large majority over Tyler, a sound Republican."

"Pooh! You don't take that as a specimen of all our elections? The Derby
voters are mainly farmers, and the farmers retain their old respect for
the lords of the manor."

"And that means something," rejoined Patterson; "it is not as if those
aristocrats had accepted the Republic, which they don't even pretend to
do. There are now over forty of them in the lower house."

"Well," answered the ex-Minister, "they have been elected by the
people."

"Yes; by the uninstructed people," said Patterson, warmly. "The people
are talked to by these fellows with empty titles on one hand and by the
demagogues on the other, and they think the only choice lies between the
two."

"Surely, papa," said Mary, who was interested in the conversation, "the
people will not be so easily deceived?"

"Deceived!" interrupted Mr. Patterson. "Why, Mary, here was an election
in which the people were led to vote against one of the best Republicans
in England, and for a lord who is nearly seventy, who has never done any
good for himself or the country--an old pauper, who goes to Parliament
for the salary and the chance to plot against the people."

Mary