‘My dear fellow,’ said he to his guest, as they were seated in his sanctum, ornamented with portraits and darkened with the quartos of the old divines, ‘I fear in politics, as in religion, people do much as they please, lecture them as you will. To listen is one thing, to practise what you hear is another. You are for the separation of Church and State, and I support you; but the respected minister who preaches in your old chapel will preach about Christ’s kingdom being not of this world, and then will go and vote for the Whig Baronet because he belongs to such a respectable family, and all the respectable Dissenters in the town will do the same, and when Christmas comes will receive their reward. Their deacons are very good men, but they will never vote to offend their rich customers. I could get a thousand people to come and hear you, to applaud all your hits, to see all your arguments, to endorse all your opinions, but I could not get ten of them to vote for you—that’s quite another thing. It is all very well to applaud Radical sentiments, so long as business is not interfered with.’ ‘But the poorer voters—there are a good many of them in the borough, are there not?’ ‘Well, they will do as their betters, and you can’t wonder at it. The Tories and the Liberals give away coal and beef and blankets at Christmas. There are lots of Radicals in the town, but they will not vote for a Radical, however much they may cheer a Radical speech. Their wives wouldn’t let them.’ ‘I fear Sloville is in a bad way,’ said Wentworth. ‘Well, it is a fair sample of an English borough. I often grieve over it, nevertheless.’ ‘Why not make it better?’ ‘Ay, that’s the question. I can see no other road to improvement but to go on talking. Liberal ideas spread and light does come, however slowly. Sometimes I almost feel inclined to ask for a drastic reform.’ ‘What is that?’ ‘To get the borough disfranchised. It would be very easy to get up a petition for bribery and corruption; it would be easier still to prove it.’ ‘And then?’ ‘The result would be that I should lose my congregation, and be the most unpopular man in the town.’ ‘Why not “dare to be a Daniel”?’ ‘Because I am poor and have a large family to keep; because I love peace and quietness; because I am a little older than you, know a little more of country life, and feel inclined to make the best of it what little time I have to live. If we are bound to run amuck at all we disapprove of, life, I fear, would be a burden too heavy to be borne. I may be slow, but, at any rate, I am sure.’ ‘So you are, old fellow. You were talking just the same way when I came here to preach—it seems to me ages ago—and a good deal has happened since then.’