The farmers are not quite such fools as the town radicals are apt to fancy. Most of them had good landlords, and few of them were averse to the Church, and it was pretty clear to the agricultural mind that whilst the big loaf, like the celebrated Pickwick pen, was a boon and a blessing to men, it was a grievous loss to themselves; much more so than was anticipated by the learned, who assured the farmers that it was impossible to flood the market with American wheat under fifty shillings the quarter. At Sloville also the brewers were afraid of the Liberal Party, who seemed much inclined to shut up the public-houses or, at any rate, to worry the trade. They struck up an alliance with the Church, and that alliance between the friends of the Bible and beer threatened serious danger to Liberals at Sloville as well as elsewhere. It was clear that the battle to be fought was a very severe one; that a good deal of money would have to be spent on both sides; a great many windy orations made, and a good deal of the trickery usual at election time would have to be resorted to. The theory of representative institutions is beautiful. Nothing sounds finer than an appeal to the country. It is a grand thing for the rulers of the people to have to come to them at times, and ask for a renewal of their confidence, and a new lease of political power. It presumes that the public take an interest in public questions, that they are educated and intelligent; that they know their duty, and are prepared to discharge it; that they are above all paltry and personal considerations; that they only care for the public good. It assumes also that the candidates are men of intelligence and patriotism—not merely wealthy nobodies anxious for the social distinction of a seat in Parliament; or barristers in search of office; or aristocratic hangers-on, hoping, by means of Parliamentary influence, to secure an honourable position in one or other of the services: diplomatic, or naval, or military.