aterial of criticism. If he had
achieved little for praise he had achieved nothing for detraction.
There was no inconsistent public utterance, no doubtful transaction, no
scandalous paper to bring forward to his detriment. When the fact that
he was but twenty-eight years of age had been exhausted in elaborate
ridicule, little more was available. The policy he championed, however,
lent itself to the widest discussion, and it was instructive to note how
the Opposition press, while continuing to approve the great principle
involved, found material for gravest criticism in the Government's
projected application of it. Interest increased in the South Fox
by-election as its first touchstone, and gathered almost romantically
about Lorne Murchison as its spirited advocate. It was commonly said
that whether he was returned or not on this occasion, his political
future was assured; and his name was carried up and down the Dominion
with every new wind of imperial doctrine that blew across the Atlantic.
He himself felt splendidly that he rode upon the crest of a wave of
history. However the event appeared which was hidden beyond the horizon,
the great luck of that buoyant emotion, of that thrilling suspense,
would be his in a very special way. He was exhilarated by the sense of
crisis, and among all the conferences and calculations that armed him
for his personal struggle, he would now and then breathe in his private
soul, "Choose quickly, England," like a prayer.

Elgin rose to its liking for the fellow, and even his political enemies
felt a half-humorous pride that the town had produced a candidate whose
natural parts were held to eclipse the age and experience of party
hacks. Plenty of them were found to declare that Lorne Murchison would
poll more votes for the Grits than any other man they could lay their
hands on, with the saving clause that neither he nor any other man could
poll quite enough this time. They professed to be content to let the
issue have it; meanwhile they congratulated Lorne on his chance, telling
him that a knock or two wouldn't do him any harm at his age. Walter
Winter, who hadn't been on speaking terms with Farquharson, made a point
of shaking hands with Murchison in the publicity of the post-office, and
assuring him that he, Winter, never went into a contest more confident
of the straight thing on the part of the other side. Such cavilling
as there was came from the organized support of his own party and