private life is permitted a man in my position, a man in
debt. For my public plans, my views are a little altered. While I was in
Birmingham, I looked a little into reality, considered closely, and at their
source, the causes of the present troubles of this country; I did the same in
London. Unknown, I could go where I pleased, mix with whom I would. I went where
there was want of food, of fuel, of clothing; where there was no occupation and
no hope. I saw some, with naturally elevated tendencies and good feelings, kept
down amongst sordid privations and harassing griefs. I saw many originally low,
and to whom lack of education left scarcely anything but animal wants,
disappointed in those wants, ahungered, athirst, and desperate as famished
animals: I saw what taught my brain a new lesson, and filled my breast with
fresh feelings. I have no intention to profess more softness or sentiment than I
have hitherto professed; mutiny and ambition I regard as I have always regarded
them: I should resist a riotous mob just as heretofore: I should open on the
scent of a runaway ringleader as eagerly as ever, and run him down as
relentlessly, and follow him up to condign punishment as rigorously; but I
should do it now chiefly for the sake and the security of those he misled.
Something there is to look to, Yorke, beyond a man's personal interest: beyond
the advancement of well-laid schemes; beyond even the discharge of dishonouring
debts. To respect himself, a man must believe he renders justice to his
fellow-men. Unless I am more considerate to ignorance, more forbearing to
suffering, than I have hitherto been, I shall scorn myself as grossly unjust.
What now?« he said, addressing his horse, which, hearing the ripple of water,
and feeling thirsty, turned to a way-side trough, where the moonbeam was playing
in a crystal eddy.
    »Yorke,« pursued Moore, »ride on: I must let him drink.«
    Yorke accordingly rode slowly forwards, occupying himself, as he advanced,
in discriminating, amongst the many lights now spangling the distance, those of
Briar-mains. Stilbro' Moor was left behind; plantations rose dusk on either
hand; they were descending the hill; below them lay the valley with its populous
parish: they felt already at home.
    Surrounded no longer by heath, it was not startling to Mr. Yorke to see a
hat rise, and to hear a voice speak behind the wall. The