whose breasts it lay as an intolerable burden, that England should be represented among the antipodes by one who had tampered with the purity of the franchise. For them there was no rest till this great disgrace should be wiped out and atoned for. Men they were of that calibre, that the slightest reflection on them of such a stigma seemed to themselves to blacken their own character. They could not break bread with satisfaction till Mr. Romer was recalled. He was recalled, and of course ruined—and the minds of those just men were then at peace.
To any honourable gentleman who really felt his brow suffused with a patriotic blush, as he thought of his country dishonoured by Mr. Romer's presence at Hong Kong—to any such gentleman, if any such there were, let all honour be given, even though the intensity of his purity may create amazement to our less finely-organized souls. But if no such blush suffused the brow of any honourable gentleman; if Mr. Romer was recalled from quite other feelings—what then in lieu of honour shall we allot to those honourable gentlemen who were most concerned?
Sir Roger, however, lost his seat, and, after three months of the joys of legislation, found himself reduced by a terrible blow to the low level of private life.
And the blow to him was very heavy. Men but seldom tell the truth of what is in them, even to their dearest friends; they are ashamed of having feelings, or rather of showing that they are troubled by any intensity of feeling. It is the practice of the time to treat all pursuits as though they were only half important to us, as though in what we desire we were only half in earnest. To be visibly eager seems childish, and is always bad policy; and men, therefore, now-a-days, though they strive as hard as ever in the service of ambition—harder than ever in that of mammon—usually do so with a pleasant smile on, as though after all they were but amusing themselves with the little matter in hand.
Perhaps it had been so with Sir Roger in those electioneering days when he was looking for votes. At any rate, he had spoken of this seat in parliament as but a doubtful good. 'He was willing, indeed, to stand, having been asked; but the thing would interfere wonderfully with his business; and then, what did he know about parliament? Nothing on earth: it was the maddest scheme, but, nevertheless, he was not going to hang back when called upon—he had always been rough and ready when wanted,—and there he was now ready as ever, and rough enough too, God knows.'
'Twas thus that he had spoken of his coming parliamentary honours; and men had generally taken him at his word. He
