reformer, and we stuck by him. Is there any man in
Newcome, except, perhaps, our twaddling old contemporary the Sentinel,
who believes in Sir B. N. any more? We say no, and we now give the
readers of the Independent, and the electors of this borough, fair
notice, that when the dissolution of Parliament takes place, a good man,
a true man, a man of experience, no dangerous Radical, or brawling
tap orator--Mr. Hicks's friends well understand whom we mean--but a
gentleman of Liberal principles, well-won wealth, and deserved station
and honour, will ask the electors of Newcome whether they are, or are
not discontented with their present unworthy Member. The Independent for
one, says, we know good men of your family, we know in it men who would
do honour to any name; but you, Sir Barnes Newcome Newcome, Bart., we
trust no more."

In the electioneering matter, which had occasioned my unlucky
interference, and that subsequent little coolness upon the good
Colonel's part, Clive Newcome had himself shown that the scheme was not
to his liking; had then submitted as his custom was: and doing so with
a bad grace, as also was to be expected, had got little thanks for his
obedience. Thomas Newcome was hurt at his son's faint-heartedness, and
of course little Rosey was displeased at his hanging back. He set off in
his father's train, a silent, unwilling partisan. Thomas Newcome had the
leisure to survey Clive's glum face opposite to him during the whole of
their journey, and to chew his mustachios, and brood upon his wrath and
wrongs. His life had been a sacrifice for that boy! What darling schemes
had he not formed in his behalf, and how superciliously did Clive meet
his projects! The Colonel could not see the harm of which he had himself
been the author. Had he not done everything in mortal's power for his
son's happiness, and how many young men in England were there with such
advantages as this moody, discontented, spoiled boy? As Clive backed out
of the contest, of course his father urged it only the more vehemently.
Clive slunk away from committees and canvassing, and lounged about the
Newcome manufactories, whilst his father, with anger and bitterness in
his heart, remained at the post of honour, as he called it, bent upon
overcoming his enemy and carrying his point against Barnes Newcome. "If
Paris will not fight, sir," the Colonel said, with a sad look following
his son, "Priam must." Good old Priam believed his cause to be a