happy - had
to be fought against and slain. Such a time is a time of hope. Afterwards, when
the corpses of those monsters have been held up to the public wonder and
abhorrence, and yet wisdom and happiness do not follow, but rather a more
abundant breeding of the foolish and unhappy, comes a time of doubt and
despondency. But in the great Reform year hope was mighty: the prospect of
reform had even served the voters instead of drink; and in one place, at least,
there had been a dry election. And now the speakers at Reform banquets were
exuberant in congratulation and promise: Liberal clergymen of the Establishment
toasted Liberal Catholic clergymen without any allusion to scarlet, and Catholic
clergymen replied with a like tender reserve. Some dwelt on the abolition of all
abuses, and on millennial blessedness generally; others, whose imaginations were
less suffused with exhalations of the dawn, insisted chiefly on the ballot-box.
    Now on this question of the ballot the minister strongly took the negative
side. Our pet opinions are usually those which place us in a minority of a
minority amongst our own party: - very happily, else those poor opinions, born
with no silver spoon in their mouths - how would they get nourished and fed? So
it was with Mr Lyon and his objection to the ballot. But he had thrown out a
remark on the subject which was not quite clear to his hearer, who interpreted
it according to his best calculation of probabilities.
    »I have no objection to the ballot,« said Harold, »but I think that is not
the sort of thing we have to work at just now. We shouldn't get it. And other
questions are imminent.«
    »Then, sir, you would vote for the ballot?« said Mr Lyon, stroking his chin.
    »Certainly, if the point came up. I have too much respect for the freedom of
the voter to oppose anything which offers a chance of making that freedom more
complete.«
    Mr Lyon looked at the speaker with a pitying smile and a subdued h'm-m-m,
which Harold took for a sign of satisfaction. He was soon undeceived.
    »You grieve me, sir; you grieve me much. And I pray you to reconsider this
question, for it will take you to the root, as I think, of political morality. I
engage to show to any impartial mind, duly furnished with the principles of
public and private rectitude, that the ballot would be pernicious, and that if
it were not pernicious it would still be futile. I