gan, pronounced (under a cartoon) that Gladstone was the
most popular man in England. In the autumn of that year, the
"Mid-Lothian Campaign" raised him to the very summit of his great
career; and, when Christmas came, most Liberals felt that it was all
over except the shouting.

On the 9th of March, 1880, Lord Beaconsfield announced that he had
"advised the Queen to recur to the sense of her people." His opponents
remarked that the nonsense of her people was likely to serve his turn a
good deal better; and to the task of exposing and correcting that
nonsense we vigorously applied ourselves during the remaining weeks of
Lent. It is true that the same statesman had once declared himself "on
the side of the Angels" in order to reassure the clergy, and had once
dated a letter on "Maundy Thursday" in order to secure the High Church
vote. Encouraged by these signs of grace, some of his followers mildly
remonstrated against a Lenten dissolution and an Easter poll. But
counsels which might have weighed with Mr. Disraeli, M.P. for Bucks (who
had clerical constituents), were thrown away on Lord Beaconsfield, who
had the Crown, Lords, and Commons on his side; and on the 24th of March
the Parliament which he had dominated for six years was scattered to the
winds.

Electioneering in rural districts was pure joy. It was a delicious
spring, bright and yet soft, and the beech-forests of the Chilterns were
in early leafage.

"There is a rapturous movement, a green growing,
Among the hills and valleys once again,
And silent rivers of delight are flowing
Into the hearts of men.

"There is a purple weaving on the heather,
Night drops down starry gold upon the furze;
Wild rivers and wild birds sing songs together,
Dead Nature breathes and stirs."[30]

In the spring of 1880, Nature had no monopoly of seasonable life.
Humanity was up and doing. Calm people were roused to passion, and
lethargic people to activity. There was hurrying and rushing and
plotting and planning, and all the fierce but fascinating bustle of a
great campaign. One hurried across the Vale from a Farmers' Ordinary,
where one had been exposing Lord Beaconsfield's nonsense about the
"Three Profits" of agricultural land, to a turbulent meeting in a chapel
or a barn (for the use of the schoolroom was denied to the Liberal
candidate). As we drove through the primrose-studded lanes, or past the
village green, the bell w