t bishop bill, I say, in the hands of his friends, had
appeared to him to be a means of almost national salvation. And then,
how great had been the good fortune of the giants in this matter! Had
they been the originators of such a measure they would not have had
a chance of success; but now--now that the two bishops were falling
into their mouths out of the weak hands of the gods, was not their
success ensured? So Dr. Grantly had girded up his loins and marched
up to the fight, almost regretting that the triumph would be so easy.
The subsequent failure was very trying to his temper as a party man.
It always strikes me that the supporters of the Titans are in this
respect much to be pitied. The giants themselves, those who are
actually handling Pelion and breaking their shins over the lower
rocks of Ossa, are always advancing in some sort towards the councils
of Olympus. Their highest policy is to snatch some ray from heaven.
Why else put Pelion on Ossa, unless it be that a furtive hand, making
its way through Jove's windows, may pluck forth a thunderbolt or two,
or some article less destructive, but of manufacture equally divine?
And in this consists the wisdom of the higher giants--that, in spite
of their mundane antecedents, theories, and predilections, they can
see that articles of divine manufacture are necessary. But then they
never carry their supporters with them. Their whole army is an army
of martyrs. "For twenty years I have stuck to them, and see how
they have treated me!" Is not that always the plaint of an old
giant-slave? "I have been true to my party all my life, and where am
I now?" he says. Where, indeed, my friend? Looking about you, you
begin to learn that you cannot describe your whereabouts. I do not
marvel at that. No one finds himself planted at last in so terribly
foul a morass, as he would fain stand still for ever on dry ground.

Dr. Grantly was disgusted; and although he was himself too true and
thorough in all his feelings, to be able to say aloud that any giant
was wrong, still he had a sad feeling within his heart that the world
was sinking from under him. He was still sufficiently exoteric to
think that a good stand-up fight in a good cause was a good thing.
No doubt he did wish to be Bishop of Westminster, and was anxious to
compass that preferment by any means that might appear to him to be
fair. And why not? But this was not the end of his aspirations. He
wished that the giants might pr