y News" reported him, and gave him an
article all to himself; and even the "Times" condescended to make an
example of him, and to bring him up as evidence that revolutionary
doctrines were distasteful to the electors of the country generally.
The fame of Ontario Moggs certainly became more familiar to the ears
of the world at large than it would have done had he continued to run
in a pair with Mr. Westmacott. And that was everything to him. Polly
Neefit must hear of him now that his name had become a household word
in the London newspapers.

And in another respect he gained much. All personal canvassing was
now at an end for him. There could be no use in his going about from
house to house asking for votes. Indeed, he had discovered that to do
so was a thing iniquitous in itself, a demoralising practice tending
to falsehood, intimidation, and corruption,--a thing to be denounced.
And he denounced it. Let the men of Percycross hear him, question him
in public, learn from his spoken words what were his political
principles,--and then vote for him if they pleased. He would
condescend to ask a vote as a favour from no man. It was for them
rather to ask him to bestow upon them the gift of his time and such
ability as he possessed. He took a very high tone indeed in his
speeches, and was saved the labour of parading the streets. During
these days he looked down from an immeasurable height on the
truckling, mean, sordid doings of Griffenbottom, Underwood, and
Westmacott. A huge board had been hoisted up over the somewhat low
frontage of the Cordwainers' Arms, and on this was painted in letters
two feet high a legend which it delighted him to read, MOGGS, PURITY,
AND THE RIGHTS OF LABOUR. Ah, if that could only be understood, there
was enough in it to bring back an age of gold to suffering humanity!
No other Reform would be needed. In that short legend everything
necessary for man was contained.

Mr. Pile and Mr. Trigger stood together one evening looking at the
legend from a distance. "Moggs and purity!" said Mr. Pile, in that
tone of disgust, and with that peculiar action which had become
common to him in speaking of this election.

"He hasn't a ghost of a chance," said Mr. Trigger, who was always
looking straight at the main point;--"nor yet hasn't Westmacott."

"There's worse than Westmacott," said Mr. Pile.

"But what can we do?" said Trigger.

"Purity! Purity!" said the old man. "It makes me that sick that I
wish