"It was the seventh of October. All night long, until the dawning of the eighth, the debate was continued; and until three hours after midnight, Palace Yard, and the streets about Westminster, were crowded with anxious watchers, though the weather was cold and miserably wet. Towards morning their patience was exhausted; and when the carriages of the peers and bishops rolled out in broad daylight there was no one there to greet them with the execrations and hisses they deserved. The whole of our work this session in the Commons has been done in vain. But we shall win next time, even if we compel the King to create as many new Reform peers as will pass the Bill in spite of the old Lords." "Edgar, you are talking nonsense--if not treason." "Pardon me, Father. I am only giving you the ultimatum of Reform. The Bill _must_ pass the Lords next session, or you may call Reform Revolution. The people are particularly angry at the bishops. They dare not appear on the streets; curses follow them, and their carriages have been repeatedly stoned." "There is a verse beginning, 'Inasmuch as ye did it not,' etc.,--I wonder if they will ever dare to repeat it again. They will do the church a deal of harm." "Oh, no," said Edgar. "The church does not stand on the bishops." "Be easy with the bishops," added the Squire. "They have to scheme a bit in order to get the most out of both worlds. They scorn to answer the people according to their idols. They are politically right." "No, sir," said Edgar. "Whatever is morally wrong cannot be politically right. The church is well represented by the clergy; they have generally sympathised with the people. One of them, indeed, called Smith--Sydney Smith--made a speech at Taunton, three days after our defeat, that has gone like wild-fire throughout the length and breadth of England;" and Edgar took a paper out of his pocket, and read, with infinite delight and appreciation, the pungent wit which made "Mrs. Partington" famous throughout Christendom:--